FAMFRIT vs. Party One: Altair/Ofelia/Siana.
When Altair saw the great wave coming toward him, his first thought was for his lyre. This time of year when there was the occasional summer thunderstorm, Altair kept it wrapped in oilcloth when he wore it on his belt. He would have to pray that it would be enough to keep the strings dry enough to amplify his songs when the party needed healing later on.
He attempted to shield his equipment with his body as the wave washed over him, cold and unforgiving. When the water receded, Altair felt a bit like a drowned rat, but his lyre and revolver still seemed functional. No small miracle, that.
The two women who had joined him were not exactly members of his fan club. He opened his mouth to make a snide comment, when he paused. His words held power, and this was not the situation to squander that power. "Siana," he said instead. "In spite of our differences, there is no one I would rather fight alongside. I believe in your superior strength and skill." With any luck, that would be enough to confer upon her Bravery status.
To Ofelia, he said only, "You were right and I was wrong. What happens anywhere in the city affects us all."
Pausing only to cough water out of his lungs, he cocked his pistol and raised it, firing six fire-elemental shots through the mist and into the belly of the beast—he hoped. It was a large target, anyway, so chances were his bullets would hit something.