James/Emily/Cian v. Bandercoeurl
Cian had to admit, usually his bike was in danger of destruction by monsters lately (or, on one memorable occasion, Palings), but today, he had to swerve out of the way of a second -- and riderless -- bike skidding to a stop. He had to admire the dismount of the guy who'd been riding it moments earlier -- one smooth motion from riding to fighting, weapons already in hand.
Admiration didn't mean he wasn't annoyed, however.
For one, there were fucking monsters loose in the city. Again.
He might have left this here, only he'd learned the hard way that when these things happened, it was better to glue himself to a Fighter than try to find safety. That was an elusive resource in this Faram-damned city.
And so he sent the first card flying, its razor edge embedding itself in the giant cat-thing's side. It growled its displeasure and Cian grinned. "Looks like you could use a little help, buddy!"