"Percy! Annabeth!" As if shouting out their names is some weird chant that can get them out alright.
But now that yelling that is out of the way, he rushes to help Annabeth fight the spectre off, only for another to fly in front of him and block his path. His brows draw together and he grits his teeth. A flick of his wrists and flames erupt in his open palms, and he raises one hand and hurls a ball of fire at the spectre. The red and orange blaze engulfs it and...
And nothing happens.
Aside from a few superficial burn marks, the spectre is completely undamaged. Well, crap. Leo staggers back, eyes wide and darting in all directions. They settle on the salvaged parts and immediately the gears in his brain start to turn.
Okay, fine, so fire isn't exactly super effective, but he could still trap those jerks. The calculations and designs for a multitude of traps flash in his mind like a slideshow as he swerves and darts and lands onto his knees beside the salvage. He doesn't even notice that he's scraped his skin; all concentration is focused on finding the right parts, putting them together, and building an efficient trap in the quickest way possible. As in, swift enough to finish it before the two spectres close in on him.
"Come on, come on!" he mutters to himself as he joins another part together. One of the spectres is terrifyingly close, an arm reaching out to him while he's too distracted.
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But now that yelling that is out of the way, he rushes to help Annabeth fight the spectre off, only for another to fly in front of him and block his path. His brows draw together and he grits his teeth. A flick of his wrists and flames erupt in his open palms, and he raises one hand and hurls a ball of fire at the spectre. The red and orange blaze engulfs it and...
And nothing happens.
Aside from a few superficial burn marks, the spectre is completely undamaged. Well, crap. Leo staggers back, eyes wide and darting in all directions. They settle on the salvaged parts and immediately the gears in his brain start to turn.
Okay, fine, so fire isn't exactly super effective, but he could still trap those jerks. The calculations and designs for a multitude of traps flash in his mind like a slideshow as he swerves and darts and lands onto his knees beside the salvage. He doesn't even notice that he's scraped his skin; all concentration is focused on finding the right parts, putting them together, and building an efficient trap in the quickest way possible. As in, swift enough to finish it before the two spectres close in on him.
"Come on, come on!" he mutters to himself as he joins another part together. One of the spectres is terrifyingly close, an arm reaching out to him while he's too distracted.