"Can you even fit?" Says the man in full power armor. Still- if this shit is gonna work? They're gonna need a little luck on their side. A little, a lot of luck. York's been nudging in small ways since this mess started but rolling through their options, the jar of bees vibrating on his back? He knows he at least is gonna need one big one to throw, land, and avoid getting hit by the damn things. Doesn't matter that he's in armor, bees are sneaky little fuckers and it'll jam something or other up and-

Rattling through all the ways this one thing can go wrong keeps him from worrying about how well this all could get fucked in half a second but. Okay. Hopping in the vent is a thing, Crawling along (quietly) is a thing.