Deimos
Dare we know the halo's hanging low
He pantomimed and mimicked several expressions she couldn’t see, but otherwise, didn’t answer right away. Patient and observant as ever, he watched as she picked up the first. It would likely be the most familiar, given the way they’d shaped their lives around similar weaponry. So there was no surprise on his features as she answered, though he didn’t respond immediately. Not intending to give up his location, he threw his voice forward by way of air incantations and mischief. “Correct guess,” came from somewhere by the opposing wall, “but you missed me.” Which she would’ve noted as the blade swung into nothingness.
His turn.
Though she wouldn’t be able to observe it, the grin notched on his features remained devilish, and by way of attuned senses, she likely could’ve felt the measure of wicked glee threatening the training grounds’ hall. In a matter of moments, he instigated a deluge of water directly above her head; intending to have it pour down much like a sudden rain shower.
