Initiate ain't sure what exactly a "70's rock band rebel anthem' is (sounds something illicit, probably not to be had on Alternia). He swears to ask the both of them on it for telling him know laterways. Ain't no being left out of the motherfuckin joke for him.
But later was later, the mission was now.
The Initiate was a big motherfucker. He knew that. Sometimes it got to being his disadvantage. But sometimes, it helped as for ninjas to be underestimating exactly how much of a noiseless goddamn shadow he could be. A laughsassin was laughsassin no matter how big they was.
He surges up ahead. Corner there. One guard up top, one down low. Quick shifting of the lower to swap on with another in ten. Least that's what Terezi's maps had said on patrols. He turns to Sam and Jet both, making gestures as he pulls down the cloth covering his face and mouths 'one, two' and indicates the levels. Jet wanted a hit more best to let him. Sam could cover their asses for the moment the one saw, the other would try on shooting. He gives a sharp nod and single to go once his disguise is back up.
He runs around that corner and makes the leap, grabbing the edge of that next level platform and swinging up like it's a grief trapeze-- where faith and subjugglator training got colliding beautifully. He lands atop the bars edge and doesn't listen for his back up below, knowing they'll have him. Especially since he's got this motherfucker up top to handle. If fear could be shown behind them helmets of theirs, he's sure this one was at least some sort of startled. He moves fast, yanking the Peacekeeper so the gun points angled up. He hits their back hard enough that body becomes heap in his arms-- not hard to do when he's used to straight up ripping off heads-- which he's then swinging back down with. Didn't need no more clanking on that metal than what there was.
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But later was later, the mission was now.
The Initiate was a big motherfucker. He knew that. Sometimes it got to being his disadvantage. But sometimes, it helped as for ninjas to be underestimating exactly how much of a noiseless goddamn shadow he could be. A laughsassin was laughsassin no matter how big they was.
He surges up ahead. Corner there. One guard up top, one down low. Quick shifting of the lower to swap on with another in ten. Least that's what Terezi's maps had said on patrols. He turns to Sam and Jet both, making gestures as he pulls down the cloth covering his face and mouths 'one, two' and indicates the levels. Jet wanted a hit more best to let him. Sam could cover their asses for the moment the one saw, the other would try on shooting. He gives a sharp nod and single to go once his disguise is back up.
He runs around that corner and makes the leap, grabbing the edge of that next level platform and swinging up like it's a grief trapeze-- where faith and subjugglator training got colliding beautifully. He lands atop the bars edge and doesn't listen for his back up below, knowing they'll have him. Especially since he's got this motherfucker up top to handle. If fear could be shown behind them helmets of theirs, he's sure this one was at least some sort of startled. He moves fast, yanking the Peacekeeper so the gun points angled up. He hits their back hard enough that body becomes heap in his arms-- not hard to do when he's used to straight up ripping off heads-- which he's then swinging back down with. Didn't need no more clanking on that metal than what there was.