"Guess not." Remy replied groggily. He half-collapsed to his knees, gritting his teeth against the constant onslaught. Bile rising in his throat, Remy fought against the urge to retch, although he gave a half-cough, half-gag. "Y'just ain't nice anymore, Vee."
The guns were going to be a problem logistically. They were the only reason he hadn't blasted her himself. But Remy didn't want to think about what she'd do with him once he collapsed. Anyway he saw it, it wasn't going to be pretty. So he took the chance.
The cards were out, the flare of energy disbursing through them even he was going through the quick, practiced motion of throwing them at her. Three under her feet, exploding as they each touched the ground. The fourth, and last, card was aimed at her face. He'd (hopefully) charged it just enough to detonate right at eye level to blind and distract. He didn't want to maim her anymore that he had too. At least not yet. It was still early in this fight; things could change.