[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/FjVCFoQ.png[/img][/center]
[center][color=cyan][h2]Etoile[/h2]
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It was a good thing that Pagonia put his hand on Etoile's shoulder; otherwise, in that moment—the absurd adrenaline starting to leak out of her bloodstream—she probably would have fallen. She grit her teeth tightly, struggling to keep herself upright. [i][color=cyan]Don't you fall, Etoile. Don't you dare FUCKING fall.[/color][/i] Her breaths rattled in and out, rasping against her scratched-up throat. When she spoke, her voice was just as scratchy, and withering. "[color=cyan]Don't patronize me, Pagonia. I haven't practiced properly in months. I know full well my form is garbage.[/color]" Her breaths kept heaving in and out, eyes narrowed to slits, concentrating on not feeling the nails in her head. No magic for a few minutes, at least. So...her mind started to race. No magic, at least for a while. She couldn't cast any spells. Her leg wound was starting to bother her again, after that run; blood was starting to leak down her leg. At least until she could deal with that, no intense combat. No magic for squad support. No direct intense combat against the maleficarum. So what [i]could[/i] she do?

[b]"[color=B22222]I'm no good a fighter like the rest of you, but I'm sure you know what I [i]can[/i] do by now, so if there's anything I can do to help defeat [i]that[/i], then you can bet on every god above that I'll gladly take the chance.[/color]"[/b]

Etoile turned, and for a moment her head spun. Clara. The dome of wind she'd erected around the Thlecian had kept her safe, and she'd managed to haul herself off the ground. And here she was. Just as incapacitated as Etoile was, if not more, and yet still offering everything she was. Etoile's teeth gnashed. She needed to do something. She needed to do [i]something![/i] She [i]needed[/i] to [i]DO SOMETHING![/i]

"[color=cyan]Glad you're safe, Clara. Can you do me a favor?[/color]" She breathed deeply, taking her sabre and slashing through her trousers and the makeshift bandage she'd wrapped there, revealing the full extent of the wound on her inner thigh. It was ugly, it was painful, and the blood wouldn't stop coming. "[color=cyan]Gotta stop this from bleeding. Don't care if it hurts, I need to know I'm not going to bleed out. So take some of that crystal and just...[i]jam it in there,[/i] okay?[/color]"

She heaved in another deep breath and straightened up, blotting out the pain. She didn't know whether Clara was going to crystal up her leg. But it didn't really matter if she did or didn't. She walked with the barest limp up to Sparky and Zestasia, settling into a graceful combat stance. She opened her mouth, then thought for a moment. As much as she wanted to, she couldn't give orders. Sparky was impetuous. Just because she was in combat didn't mean she wouldn't dispute, and even a momentary lapse of concentration—for either and both—could spell disaster. She wasn't the best fighter right now, but...she had her mind. So she didn't give orders. She gave [i]information,[/i] voice low, hoarse, and fast.

"[color=cyan]Zes, if you need to recharge, sunlight is to your eight o' clock, about twenty feet away. Sparks, better to use your sword as a foci than a weapon right now.[/color]" Her headache had abated some. Hmm. A couple minutes and she'd have a few spells left in her. "[color=cyan]Malum maleficara externalize some of their magic, you can probably feel it in the air. Their ether is always open. Better to hit them with raw magic over using a physical weapon, they're more susceptible to it.[/color]" 

She took a deep breath, fighting past her sore throat. Her voice lowered even further to barely over a breath, pitched only to reach the two next to her as the maleficarum clawed her way out of the tree Pythia had launched her into. "[color=cyan]I'm mostly useful right now in my capacity as a decoy. I'll do my best to draw her attention, see if I can give you two a clear shot.[/color]" Another, final deep breath. And then, teeth clenched tightly and sword held in a long-practiced grip—the pain rippling through told her thigh told her that Clara had accreted her crimson crystal there—she ran at the maleficarum. 

[i][color=cyan]I really hope I can trust them.[/color][/i]