*Grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair, he shoved his arms through the fabric and shrugged the back over his shoulders as his long strides made quick work of the compound corridors. Slamming a fist a few times on the door to Dante's quarters, he burns off some excess energy by pacing back and forth in front of his brother's place, figuring the opinion of an old friend might serve him well as the errand of procuring a new phone jumped it's way to the top of his priority list* Move it, D-Man. I'm calling a village meeting and your village requires the presence of it's idiot. — with Dante Malebranche.
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