[color=gray]Vulma threaded through the tightly clustered masses towards the phosphene-flare their OSS provided, favoring instinct over the real-time routing of her optical feed. [color=FA428B]<So....funny thing about that. Turns out the target is passing by my location. I could improvise something here, or I could go guns blazing on her. I leave it up to you team. I am sure P'siyah could help me out here.>[/color] By the latter part of Rose's suggestion an ingrained comms suite was already panging out reply at the speed of thought. 

[color=a187be]<There are easier ways to opt into prosthetics.>[/color] the CSM sussed into the digital ether of their shared mind, her own high-gloss chassis still surging along an erratic intercept course. [color=a187be]<Too many shooters, too little cover. Our target won't be the only one to think we're gunning for them.>[/color] A silence hitched itself to her last statement as Vulma vaulted the cloth cordon between two gambling dens and up a partially collapsed stairwell. [color=a187be]<Not to mention you may as well be packing a starting pistol; wouldn't want our only lead getting trampled.>[/color] If there was an easy anwser she didn't have it; but between Anson and P'siyah their best bad idea was bound to work.

[color=a187be]<I'm in parralel and matching target. Overwatch, do you see any detours? Sewage mains, dumping grounds--any place people are avoiding. Emperor knows what we'll be walking into if she gets where she's going.>[/color] Naturally no sooner had such a scenario been arrived at than the courier hung the sort of hard left it would look unnatural for Vulma to suddenly mirror. [color=a187be]<If someone brought a rabbit now's the time to pull it out of the hat.>[/color][/color]