[The intercom. system had kicked on, then off, five times before Elena simply had enough. 'Nervous Intern' from Ivan's Office' (or whatever her name was, she really hadn't been much concerned to ask first they met) had been bumbling about with the microphone receiver for what felt like an eternity, serenading the public with the occasional jolting
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This is the rations line to get the booklets, sir.
-=oh, yes, he recognizes you.=-
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Well, gimme it.
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Excuse me? That language is not tolerated in mixed company, sir.
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Depends on how badly you want your fucking face smashed in.
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[[Huh, wonder why. Anywhoo.... he'll probably get shot]]
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It'll be a reality in about two fucking seconds.
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I can see another possible reality.
/*standing behind Grimmjow rather nonchalantly, barrel of her gun almost pressed to the back of his head but not quite; thumb pulls back on the hammer, a clicking sound*/
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Do you happen to have your ID with you, sir?
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*Throws a fist at Maes' goddamn stupid face.*
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*Jumps over towards Maes, raising his fist again. Is determined not to miss this time.*
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