Theo/Ari/Loch/René/Drake vs Cúchulainn
This time, Chiaro's song brought with it freedom of movement. Loch wasted no time in Vanishing. The beast seemed to have found other ants to crush, but she sure as hell didn't want to be in harm's way if it changed its mind. It was a lesson anyone who'd grown up on the streets knew well—when the shit hit the fan, the best place to be was somewhere trouble couldn't follow.
Hidden behind the veil of her ability, with her wounds starting to mend thanks to Chiaro's music and adrenaline fueling her, it was easier to concentrate on scanning their enemies. She focused on the head honcho, eyes cataloguing every detail she could discern—
Information flooded her mind as the ability spread outward from its focus, casting light on the flan minions and revealing their nature as well. Some measure of luck, not nearly enough to compensate for the fact that she had picked entirely the wrong day to venture outside the docks area.
"Big fucker's immune to status effects. Halves elemental damage." Even if the monsters couldn't see her, they could hear her; she made a point to walk as she spoke, to avoid presenting them with a clear target. "Its ugly friends are undead. Healing'll take care of 'em."