Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-26104528-20150622221614/@comment-26130256-20150819053203

"Well, unless any of you are escapologists," Azulius admitted, handing his suit jacket to Beige,  "I think that's my job." With a tone of reverence, the magician turned and handed Roaring Moxie to Ingraham. "This dame and I have been through hell and back together.  Don't teach her any bad habits while I'm gone." Grabbing his scroll and his lockpicks, he shimmied his way into the crawl space.

It was a great thing that Azzie didn't have any problems with confined spaces, because the crawl space was aptly named. He could create any light he needed with his Semblance, but it was taking all his work to snake around the bundles of wires and pipes without ruining his combat suit. Bloodstains came right off, but motor oil was still a threat, for some strange reason. After what felt like much too long, he found the marked panel, and after some quick scroll conversations, had disabled the turret's power supply. Just like the Federal Reserve job.

"Mission accomplished," he relayed back. "I don't suppose I can wire into a camera feed or something from here?  Would be nice to see what we're dealing with up ahead."