The ringing in his ears subsided, and Devlin slowly rose from behind the counter. A gunshot had torn through the sound barrier in the appartment over. "God fucking damnit, if that's you Drake, I'm going to kick you so hard you'll wish that ogre you met had fucked you in your ass!" He kicked the door open, drawing his second revolver. "Honestly, how many fucking times do I have to say that just because I'm bored," he smashed through the other door, unknowing it had already been opened. "Does not give you the power to randomly shoot...... why hello." He tilted his head back, sniffing the air. Human. Interesting. In his mind, human plus gunfire equals lack of boredom. "Drake, I know you're around here you little midget!" He holstered one of his pistols, deciding to search the kitchen first. "Maybe behind the counter? No?" He grinned, pulling back the hammer. "Come out you little leprachaun devil. I just wanna kill you." He chuckled, making his way to the living room. "Hm...... maybe behind the TV set?" He shoved his boot through the screen, jolting as power coursed through him. "Oh.... you are sooo dead you little imp!" He put three rounds into the TV, looking around before shrugging and making his way out. As he left, he started singing 'When the Saint's go marching in.'