((Crap, I forgot how fast this forum goes while I'm out.))
Alistor kicked the Pyro's foot. "Just keep that shit away from everyone else. Explosions and freakin' fireballs only make my god damn job harder." Alistor was sitting on the ground. His medical supplies were next to him, container open, he was taking inventory. "I don't got much morphine. Y'all might want to pick up medical supplies while you're walking." He said, in his thick accent, which was a jumbled mess of Southern U.S., Irish, British, Canadian, and Russian. He took out a hacksaw from his tools and began sharpening it.
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