Deimos
Dare we know the halo's hanging low
His eyes narrowed, watching Marcus speculatively. Limitations with water would be an issue, and if he used too much against the fire, there wouldn’t be much left for future assaults. It would make for another notion for the younger hybrid to configure through, and though momentarily disappointed, he didn’t look to put out. Head tilting, he waited against for the next motion. On this interim, he’d scattered the droplets, pulling and maneuvering them in different directions. “Clever idea,” he rumbled and invoked, because if the Olson was facing someone with a lesser experience than Deimos, it might’ve thrown them off, made them pick and choose on which interval to intercede and utilize.
Alas, it was the Sword after all – and as the water whips lashed into the fire, he simply reformed them, granting Marcus an instant to see where the ripples ate and tore at the flames, before replacing the segments, then, simply to see what he would do, he made the wall that much larger, almost as if the inferno was giving chase. “Do not be afraid to alter it either,” by way of thought – like ice. While it might not be best against fire, it could be used against another.
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