[Actually, being able to hear Peter thanks to his enhanced senses is great. He can gauge where they're keeping the other mutant, continuing using his voice and the occasional glance into a room at the camera feeds to slink along the ceiling unnoticed.
That brief moment where the speedster blurs into view, face practically against the camera, earns the shortest huff of his life before his hand is flying up to cup around his mouth. He presses his belly flat to the surface, frantic eyes darting around the spanse of the hall, trying to track any movement from the corridors opposite the one he's in.]
Whew, [he breathes, relaxing from the hunched position.
He's finally coming upon the designated room, where he'll be able to use the device Beast had given him to scramble the cameras. Much to his dismay, it's also where those guards are at, so he'll have to work quickly.
Balancing on his fingertips and toes, Nightcrawler drops silently to the floor below, pokes just enough of his head up so he can peer into the window.] Perfect. [A well-timed bamf deposits him behind the first guard where he drops a limb into the side of the man's neck, a sharp, knife-handed crack that gives him the split second hesitation he needs to loop his tail around this sentry's waist and toss him aside like a ragdoll.
Two more approach, attempting to flank him, lunging forward with oversized taser rods. He drops onto an elbow, raises his other hand and the spade of his tail to grasp the weapons, guide them straight into the guards' armor-plating. What a productive (and conductive) way to be rid of two attackers.
Rolling onto his front, he leaps to his feet with ease, glancing warily between the remainder of enemies, who've drawn their convenient little handguns. He's faster than gunfire, but part of him is hesitant, the thought of having to kill them — even if it's some advantageously positioned teleporting — makes his stomach lurch.]
Don't hit anything vital! [Is all Kurt needs to hear; they've made the decision for him. Ear-splitting cracks of gunfire pop off along with the noise of air rushing to fill the spaces he begins to leap between.
If he's lucky, they will run out of ammo before he has to take drastic measures or be mindful of the exhaustion that could set in with such rapid displacements.]
no subject
That brief moment where the speedster blurs into view, face practically against the camera, earns the shortest huff of his life before his hand is flying up to cup around his mouth. He presses his belly flat to the surface, frantic eyes darting around the spanse of the hall, trying to track any movement from the corridors opposite the one he's in.]
Whew, [he breathes, relaxing from the hunched position.
He's finally coming upon the designated room, where he'll be able to use the device Beast had given him to scramble the cameras. Much to his dismay, it's also where those guards are at, so he'll have to work quickly.
Balancing on his fingertips and toes, Nightcrawler drops silently to the floor below, pokes just enough of his head up so he can peer into the window.] Perfect. [A well-timed bamf deposits him behind the first guard where he drops a limb into the side of the man's neck, a sharp, knife-handed crack that gives him the split second hesitation he needs to loop his tail around this sentry's waist and toss him aside like a ragdoll.
Two more approach, attempting to flank him, lunging forward with oversized taser rods. He drops onto an elbow, raises his other hand and the spade of his tail to grasp the weapons, guide them straight into the guards' armor-plating. What a productive (and conductive) way to be rid of two attackers.
Rolling onto his front, he leaps to his feet with ease, glancing warily between the remainder of enemies, who've drawn their convenient little handguns. He's faster than gunfire, but part of him is hesitant, the thought of having to kill them — even if it's some advantageously positioned teleporting — makes his stomach lurch.]
Don't hit anything vital! [Is all Kurt needs to hear; they've made the decision for him. Ear-splitting cracks of gunfire pop off along with the noise of air rushing to fill the spaces he begins to leap between.
If he's lucky, they will run out of ammo before he has to take drastic measures or be mindful of the exhaustion that could set in with such rapid displacements.]