[When the feed kicks on, the most obvious thing is that the air is full of soot. Or smoke. Or maybe both, though the ratio isn't really all that important. Hector's got it smeared down one cheek, as though he's wiped his face with a dirty hand, and across the front of his shirt, invoking the same idea.
However, it's apparent just from his expression that he is having an absolute blast, and his grin couldn't get any wider if it tried.]
If ye have need of the sixth floor, I suggest ye watch your step. Might have gotten a little overzealous with the grenades. They work a treat to blow the bloody things apart, but.
They work just as well on walls and floors, don't they.
[He gives a snort, before another cloud of smoke, along with the sound of the grenade exploding, goes off behind him, and he kills the feed.]