[Though he can't help being on edge about the whole undeath situation, Danse will take backup that freaks him out over no backup at all. There's something that becomes reassuring about those uneven hoofbeats, even, in a way he hasn't anticipated. The sound is distinct and recognizable, and keeps him steadily aware of his ally's location, even when he strays further away. The knee-jerk Brotherhood soldier in him still tells him to be ashamed of finding anything about these mutations useful or interesting, but it's quieter these days.
Danse hasn't seen that hammer in action yet, but there's certainly no better time than this. Though he's brought the manacles on himself with that preemptive attack on the judgmental machinery, he takes no issue with the command, freezing in place until Jayce strikes the offending thing off him. ]
Thanks. That was close.
[ He's seen rocket-powered sledgehammers, ones that store kinetic energy, ones that stun with electricity, but he can't place the way in which this one is out of the ordinary--he wants to ask, but he can hear the sounds of slithering leather and clinking metal coming back for more, and knows now is not the time to talk shop.
The chains are too small to strike either with his rifle or his tire iron, but the wider restraints are enough of a target for his point-blank laser fire, and the straps almost seem to make a keening noise as they curl away and collapse in a heap. As if echoing them, his rifle makes a shrill, low-charge beep like a smoke detector. ]
...damn it, I thought I'd have longer before the cells ran down. You don't have that problem.
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Danse hasn't seen that hammer in action yet, but there's certainly no better time than this. Though he's brought the manacles on himself with that preemptive attack on the judgmental machinery, he takes no issue with the command, freezing in place until Jayce strikes the offending thing off him. ]
Thanks. That was close.
[ He's seen rocket-powered sledgehammers, ones that store kinetic energy, ones that stun with electricity, but he can't place the way in which this one is out of the ordinary--he wants to ask, but he can hear the sounds of slithering leather and clinking metal coming back for more, and knows now is not the time to talk shop.
The chains are too small to strike either with his rifle or his tire iron, but the wider restraints are enough of a target for his point-blank laser fire, and the straps almost seem to make a keening noise as they curl away and collapse in a heap. As if echoing them, his rifle makes a shrill, low-charge beep like a smoke detector. ]
...damn it, I thought I'd have longer before the cells ran down. You don't have that problem.