Alright, time to update I guess.
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Despite the maid's orders of fire, the continue to watch the dancing for the rest of the month (I am bad with times), again tapping her foot and getting lost to the beat as she attempts to sing along to the wordless music. This continues until the song ends, with the rest of the maids keeping in the exact same pose for the entire hiatus.
Interesting back story, before becoming vampire meido all the mooks where street performers who where often human statues. Except one, who was a mime, who is used to standing in one place to avoid being seen by the judgmental public. They where all one day from retirement before becoming vampires. I don't know any of this, and might just be making it up. In fact, this entire back-story is probably part of my deranged mind. Anyway, the music stopped and they are about to shoot me.
Now, the
next song starts. Wait, was there music to start with? Because I am totally hearing music now. It might all just be in my head.
Finding no windows to jump out of (and still being a vampire who may or may not be weak to the harsh glaze of the sun), I decide it is best to stay here and activate my amazing power.
BULLET BALLET!
The guns start going off to the beat of the song, the vampire maid former street performer mooks opening a sweeping volley of fire from right to left across the room. I pick up the maid with the .223 pistols and do a Fish Dive under the inaccurate stream of incoming fire, somehow making it to the other side unharmed as slow-motion bullets cut by inches from my face. The sweep continues to the right as the enemy reflexes struggle to catch up, destroying the drywall on the other side of the room.
Drywall. Our
real enemy. It must all be destroyed!
The eyepatch-clad maid then grits her teeth and pulls out her shotgun, aiming it at me. I throw the friendly(er) maid into the air and start performing Fouetté rond de jambe en tournant to throw her off. The shot flies towards me in slow motion, while I go from my former spinning to a Sauté, leaping over the low-aimed burst several inches wide. I clear the last piece of buckshot by just a few centimeters, reuniting with my dancing partner in mid air.
Well, that bought some time, the mooks have all begun speed-reloading.
Now what will I do?