( 水 )——
The brief moment of non-aggressive contact was all it took for Omi’s guard to fall. The rod grazed his arm once, and he would not allow it to happen again. Each blow his his forearm as he guarded himself, tremors shaking his entire being before he eventually found an opening. He ducked, kicking the rod from Chase’s grasp and knocking it into the water.
His breath was still and even, his energy levels heightened in the presence of his element.
"You wish to slice a carpet with me, do you?"
"if you mean 'cut a rug', i suppose, in a way, i do," he replies with a tiny smirk. to battle is like another form of dance to chase, it comes so easily. while his rod may be lost forever to the bottom of the lake, he still had his strong limbs to lash out. and omi has obviously gotten stronger.
potential, potential, potential. all wasted on xiaolin affairs.
chase tuts, then brings himself up into a defensive stance. the water ripples beneath his sandals, and his tongue drags out across his lips. "i'm waiting, young monk."












