The hotel was quiet...too quiet but on a certain floor and a certain room had enough of the long vacation. The bricks started to fall apart and then the force bursts the door open. As the smoke starts to clear a familiar figure emerges and the face flashes with a grin
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Fisher had to admit, that he as growing fond to this silence, this peace. It was easier to take the measurements of the piece of metal he had to cut, easier to polish that suppressor he was working on for his SC 20K rifle... Easier to...
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He looked around and took his pistol and knife with him, pulling a shirt on himself and stepping out of the garage.
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"What the hell is going on in here?" And still he could only think and worry about Maria. "You a fireman?" Well, the red clothing was telling him so, and he couldn't see well with the whole smoke and mirrors thing, plus the coughing wasn't helping.
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"Fireman?" His chuckles turned into crazed laughter as Dante turns around to grin at Sam with amusement. "I'm no fireman! I'm the devil!"
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...W-what was that?
[The pianist promptly excuses himself from the room, and heads for the beach in case the building itself might be collapsing. Never can be too paranoid careful...]
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Oooo, a party? That sounds like a marvelous idea~!
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I absolutely love parties, I don't see who wouldn't~
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