Danse will do Deacon the courtesy of not acknowledging the little voice crack, but he will file it privately away with pleasure nonetheless, even though pretty much every single thing that's happened today (and even before that, since that strange little argument about getting into the truck) has already been more than enough evidence that Deacon isn't as unflappable as he pretends to be. The proof remains quietly satisfying.

He slows down again, but not as much as he had before, because he can make out a ladder up ahead that's going to have him in for another tedious bout of drip-drying and put Deacon back at the advantage. He's not looking forward to dragging a heavy fish-body behind him as he climbs it, but it's not that tall. And anyway, the Institute didn't build him with guns like this for nothing, even if hauling himself around a flooded power plant on an alien planet while magically transformed into a merman is probably not what anyone there anticipated him using them for.

"That new trick of yours should come in handy for scouting up here," he says, beginning to make his way up the rungs with a grunt of exertion, and unable to maintain further conversation as he climbs. It's actually a little embarrassing, as the tail is even heavier and the climb more difficult than he imagined, and the effort is nearly wasted when he almost slips back into the floodwater as he heaves himself over the top of the ladder, but he has enough dignity left not to lie on the floor like an actual dead fish while he recovers his breath. He sits up against a wall and waits for Deacon to catch up.

Strange, though. The reflections he can see in the water below the ladder are...not consistent with what's actually around it, all of a sudden.