Deimos
Dare we know the halo's hanging low
The gossip and information seemed to be an unending thing today, and his nosey, curious, inquiring mind snagged at it like a snare; eyes widening for half a moment at the notions of the “baby patch.” “I had heard of it, but figured it was just a rumor,” like one of those other scattered stories and legends that were passed on, embellished, and stretched too far thin to ever be of truth. To realize the garden existed brought him a light laugh and a shake of his head, maneuvering on from prying too much further. The comprehension and understanding of why was there.He let her keep the rest of her secrets without other inquiries, the arch of his brow remaining in a pretense of suspicions sort of way – before turning to listen to Noah. Familiar with the way concrete worked, having used it many, many times, he still focused, listening to the necessities of any impending task. “Sure,” he agreed, though it felt strange, odd, to wait. Once they’d molded and fixtured the foundation, he unfurled his command and control of the Air, utilizing his efforts to spin artfully and hover along the concrete, ensuring it would be dry for the upcoming and pending labor.
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Deimos uses his Mastered Air to dry out the concrete.
