"Agreed," Mirage remarked, contemplative gaze not falling away from the ceiling tiles. "Especially with a light crusting of ice- it makes a nice contrast on heated plating. It is certainly useful for many things, provided that you can avoid the rust."

He allowed himself a wistful expression only for a moment. Shifting in place, the spy finally stood up all at once with a heavy sigh, as though the pleasant thought was too much to contemplate.

"Well. I'm tired of waiting, and this heat is only going to aggravate my processor ache back into being. So. If you will excuse me."

And with that, Mirage hopped up into the thin side-railings of the elevator, bracing himself up into the corner with a hand on the door frame. The other hand was already reaching up for the sealed latches of the ceiling panels.