[Training] don't you know i'm not afraid to shed a little blood

DEIMOS And in your darkest hour, I hold secrets flame Another barking laugh unfurled across the blackened bay at her face, figuring he’d found some niche and nuance somewhere. “Well, I am,” and he placed his bow and arrows amongst the sled as he began to transpire and create, palms gilded and golden, as the makeshift effigy of his own design took shape. A relatively easygoing thing, only round fixtures with Neron’s face emblazoned across it, because even if the Ascended was dead, Deimos could still use his depiction and image as a lifelong mantra for contempt and abhorrence. Spite went a long way with the Sword. So while Alys could adjust her stances, he intended to practice more precision with a maneuvering feature; since none of his adversaries had ever stood still for him. Curling and contorting air magic around it, it rippled and ricocheted through the icy breeze, almost content to mill around while he retrieved his weaponry. master of nothing place; of recoil and grace