___Knives___
You push yourself up from prone gently, feeling horrible wetness of your overalls against your skin as you move your thighs and push up to a crouched position, digging around in your kit for the stretch of rope.
Looking out over the street, its practically impossible to tell where Mantis is. The spirit had obviously done its work well this evening.
Mantis signals his approach with a quick chirp over the comms and you sling your gecko gloves down to ground level, noticing how it becomes almost impossible to focus on them as they fade from view as Mantis dons them.
You sling the rope down, bracing yourself against the lip of the roof as it suddenly becomes taught.
Focussing and channelling your mana inwards, you feel your strength increase and take your queue, hauling the rope between your hands. It rasped noisily against the lip of the roofing, squealing with every haul.
You could hear Mantis banging against the brickwork, grunting as it scraped a layer of skin off. It obviously hurt like fuck, but he managed to keep a lid on it.
It took about ten seconds to haul his dead weight up the side of the building and you hear a scrabbling as the line goes slack. The hoarding moved and clattered and Mantis lands ungracefully somewhere near your feet, panting for breath, with a *thunk*. His form obscured by the arcane aid of the spirit, but noticeable by the displacement of the water he lay in.
___Scawire___
You see no change in the lack of traffic on the street and no sign of life from the target building and so decide to head across the street. Reaching the side of the building you wait for Knives to appear, opening and closing the comms channel repeatedly to create a "chirping" to indicate you'd arrived. A pair of gecko gloves appeared from a shimmering form for a milisecond before falling under gravity towards you. Knives had obviously got the message. Donning the badly fitting gloves as quickly as you could you look up again, seeing a stretch of thin rope descending towards you.
Grabbing on, you take up the slack, setting the gloves to "climb" mode, you hang on for dear life.
You ascend somewhat rapidly, your trajectory smacking you into the wall hard, the coarse brick ripping at the exposed flesh on your arms, hands and head.
The rope squeals in protest at being dragged over the threshold of the roof with your weight attached to it, sounding like all holy hell against the stillness of the late evening.
Less than 10 seconds had passed before you reached the threshold, frantically trying to clear your hands from the rope to avoid them being crushed against the threshold.
Hauling yourself up, you bang into the half-rotten advertising hoarding and collapse with no dignity into a puddle on the far side of the threshold, only two foot shaped displacements in the puddle belying Knives' presence.
Resist 4S with impact armour only
___Both___
Audio perception test only at -2
