[Vidal's room was fairly easy to hide in, as it was pretty much his workshop from home -- complete with stacked crates, light coming in only from the high windows and a few lit lamps (at night), and the immense curvatures of ancient gears, likely belonging to some great mechanism that had fallen into disrepair some time ago. It had appealed to him initially because of his love for his father's watch.]
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[Vidal was not hiding however; instead seated at his table, leaning back against it for support and looking dazed and displeased.]
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[And he is. Probably because he feels bad that he didn't even check on Vidal during the fear gas thing. Knock knock, Vidal.]
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It...is open, Senor.
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[Vidal was not hiding however; instead seated at his table, leaning back against it for support and looking dazed and displeased.]
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