"Throwing a tantrum, are we?"

This fair servant doesn't seem terribly impressed by the destruction, although that's possibly because his armor plating means he doesn't stand much chance of being damaged by it. He's slouched in a doorway-- the portal behind him locked, but he'd given up his search for an open door when he heard the tempest of destruction approaching-- and watching impassively with his arms crossed over his broad, shiny chest plating.