[Center][img]https://i.imgur.com/JwcCfB0.png[/img] [color=DEBA42]LOCATION:[/color]The Maw [color=DEBA42]WORD COUNT:[/color]584(+1 EXP) [color=DEBA42]MENTIONS:[/color] Link, Geralt [/Center] [hr] They were both right. Mirage lowered his guard somewhat, setting his kitchen tool-turned weapon onto the ground as it'd be a pain to haul in a sneaking situation. He'd been letting his anger cloud his judgement on an approach, and upon closer observation of the kitchen it became very obvious that being too rash wouldn't help them. Observing the workers outside of their hiding spot, he slowly nodded. [color=DEBA42]"Right. Just have to find a path through where we won't get detected."[/color] Sneaking was necessary sometimes, back in the games. But there it was really difficult, considering the wide range of skills and abilities combatants tended to have. These guys just seemed like average chefs, so maybe giving them the slip would be possible. Though, with the sheer forces around, and their frantic movements, it still looked plenty difficult. However, Link seemed to have a plan. Those circling carts? Mirage glanced between them and Link as the plan was explained to him, his brain as a marksman thinking about the shot. [color=DEBA42]"I might, but not from this angle."[/color] The area beside them had some pipes dangling down, seeming to be a sink of sorts. The carts turned from their table and went down towards that direction, so if he wanted a good shot at the wheels he'd need to relocate that way. Adding onto their plan, he realized this commotion could get the attention of their guest upstairs, too. [color=DEBA42]"We might not be able to use the actual stairs, in case baldy decides to come down."[/color] He pointed out, gesturing towards the hooks and honestly sorta-gross looking sausages. [color=DEBA42]"With all the commotion though, we can climb up those? Shorter distance than the stairs, and it ain't like these guys are gonna be sliding down them."[/color] Crash and dash, the plan was pretty much set in his mind. Giving an O.K hand gesture to the duo of Link and Geralt, Mirage startled to scamper off towards the sink. They didn't want the commotion right next to them, after all. [color=DEBA42]"Keep ready to run; I'll crash that thing and get rid of the evidence, then book it after you guys."[/color] He took a few test shots towards the wall beneath the sink, refamiliarizing with the speed of his projectiles. The carts weren't the fastest, but risking a miss didn't seem ideal. All that was left after that was to study the carts, and wait for an opportune time to shoot. Link thought he should wait until the lumpy guy ended up grabbing something off the cart, to frame the crash as his fault, Mirage figured. Devious, and the type of trickery he could get behind. He kept low, dart gun in both hands. His tongue slightly stuck out the side of his mouth, trying to keep focused as there was no telling when the chef would give them an opportunity. And if he missed it, then who knew how long it'd be until there was another one? His part was clear. Fire a dart, hit the wheel, tip it over, then pop off enough darts out of view to make sure that the chefs couldn't identify foul play. Then all he had to do was catch up to the other guys, and they'd possibly be golden. He'd done quite a bit of running today, and he definitely wasn't fond of having to go through it again... But this time felt less dangerous than balancing on those poles, or jumping the catwalks. At least, as long as he didn't get caught.