040. All My Love

[samson]

[Ezio Auditore]
Hey, man. So ... last year when these magic babies disappeared, Molotov kind of wigged out. So just keep an eye out for that, I guess.

[Cross Marian]
[WOW HE STILL HATES YOU hear that terseness in his tone, bro?]

Hey. Molotov might flip out soon. And she likes you, so just keep an eye on her.

[Room 509]
[Welp, it's Saturday night, and Brock had sort of been dreading it. He was trying not to think about Andy going home tomorrow -- maybe she wouldn't, you know? Sometimes things here lasted longer than they were "supposed to."

But that still didn't keep him from deciding he was going to stay awake well past midnight to keep an eye on his fake impossible magic baby for as long as humanly possible.

He's on his way through the living room when he notices a door. Like, a freestanding door that wasn't there before.]

Uh. Hey, Molotov? What's this thing?

Comments

Room 509 (it's where the party's at)

[molotov]

[Molotov is washing her face. Of course she's staying up too, but that doesn't mean her face can't be clean. She needs a little perking up anyway.]

What thing?

[She appears next to him, brow furrowed.]

That is... odd.

party over hurr

[samson]

[He's just staring at this thing!!!!]

So you didn't put that there?

[molotov]

Nyet. Why would I want just a door?

[samson]

[Why does she wish for half the shit she does! 'I want a rug, let me wish up a bunch of bears.' Crazy woman!]

I don't know. [Rubbing at his cheek, looking at the door.] Should we ... move it? Or ...

[molotov]

[THAT WISH MADE PERFECT SENSE

Molotov looks at the door apprehensively.] I feel like we should set it on fire.

[samson]

[THOUGHTFUL CHINSTROKE.] That might set the whole house on fire...

[molotov]

Well, do you think we should just throw it off the balcony?

[samson]

It might hit somebody.

[molotov]

Then what should we do?

[samson]

[Thinking ..................]

I don't know. Put it in a closet?

[molotov]

That seems like a waste of space.

[samson]

I could take it down to the cabin in the morning.

[molotov]

And do what with it?

[Molotov tentatively reaches toward the knob.]

[samson]

[Shrug!] I don't know. Put a backdoor in.

[molotov]

[Molotov opens the door, then gawks a little.]

I do not think so...

[samson]

[He peers over the top of her head, jaw dropping a little.] Uhhhhh.

[molotov]

What in the hell is this?

[samson]

It's ... a kid's room.

[................... nudges her a little.] Go in there.

[molotov]

What, no! You go.

[samson]

Fine. If you're scared.

[CONFIDENTLY STROLLS IN and nothing happens. He turns around, arms spread wide.] It's fine.

[molotov]

[Look, this is Paradisa, there is no such thing as too cautious.

Molotov glares at him and then follows, looking around.]

[samson]

[He looks around too ...]

This is like a total princess room.

[molotov]

Da. Why is it here?

[samson]

I don't know ...

[Sidles up to the dresser. Should he ... rifle through it? Is that weird? HESITATES ...]

[molotov]

[Molotov just watches. She's not touching shit until Brock absorbs any potential surprises.]