Soot plopped on the ground with a soft ‘oof’ as Bowlyn pushed her out of the fray. ‘I’ve been getting thrown about a fair bit tonight,’ the painter thought, ‘I don’t think I care for it much’. She watched the standoff between Om and Bowlyn, her heart fluttering as she looked between her criminal ‘girlfriend’ and the Bound Titan. A terrible pang of guilt rang through her as she looked at Bowlyn, sacrificing so many opportunities to strike down the host because Soot couldn't handle herself… 

She jumped to her feet, disregarding everyone's instructions and dashed forward, throwing herself between Bowlyn and Om. If Bowlyn was going to prioritise her safety, she would do the same. Admittedly going back into danger was a questionable plan, but the Painter was mostly going off instinct. Her Bag dripped paint behind her, as she clutched her scattered brush. Arms outstretched between the preparing duelists. 
 
“Please!” The Painter shouted out, “Enough! Honestly! We don’t need to do this!” Soot looked to Bowlyn, her eyes full of concern she whispered ‘She.. Might be too much, even for you.. please…’ before turning to Om with a furrowed brow.

“I-, I  mean I don’t know for sure. But I feel like you don’t want this! Do you even know how incredible you look, free and wild! But.. running around like a mutt for a Tyrant!” She maintained her serious brow, but her eyes were wide. Filled with the fear of both pissing off Bowlyn further, and also getting thrown off a roof by Om. 

The Painter then looked up at the shouting Nahla, the distant figure not quite obviously the Servant from dinner. “And you!” Soot shouted “Mind your business; S-sometimes three girls make some noise y-you know!” Her face was flush: from yelling, embarrassment, and fear mixing together.