[center][color=#b3ccff][h2]Esben Mathiassen[/h2][/color][/center]
[hr][center][@Raineh Daze] [@Izurich] [@Click This][/center][hr]

[i][color=#b3ccff]Sand.[/color][/i]

[color=#b3ccff][i]I[/i] hate [i]sand.[/i][/color]

Esben coughed and spat, his head lifted just enough that he wasn't covering his own face with saliva and the cursed [i]sand[/i] as he tried to clear his mouth. After a moment of that, he rolled over, eyes shut as hard against the sun as they had been against the sand itself—and struggled to force some semblance of order on his jumbled senses, his balance unable to properly tell up from down when he knew, logically, he was lying in the desert.

The sun beat harsh against a face that was already wind-burnt, skin abraded by the dust that blew with every gust. He raised his left arm to try and shield it—cursed at the sudden, shooting pain in his wrist and forearm, matching the ache in his chest.

Realized he couldn't hear his own cursing past the ringing in his ears.

[color=#b3ccff]"Hvi—"[/color]

He let the arm drop, opening his eyes to the light around him. Everything was a blur, inasmuch as there was anything to focus on in the sky above; but he could catch flashes of movement in his peripheral vision, or the bright flare at the end of a gun barrel. He closed his eyes again, coughed once more. [color=#b3ccff]"Djevelen. Right."[/color] He could feel blood on his face as well, likely from his nose; the weight of the beast tackling him like it did had forced his arm right back into his body, and his fist was barely higher than his nose. Hopefully [i]that[/i] wasn't broken.

His weapons. He had to find those, force himself back into the fight—

The ringing started to subside as he rolled up onto one elbow, and back over, barely keeping himself up off the sands. His sword landed nearest him, that was quickly found. The yelling of the others was still indistinct as he cast about for his buckler, but at least he could tell the difference between the voices and the ambient sound now.

[right]—The world grew darker all of a sudden, and he could hear music begin to come from nearby. Ciradyl? It had to be.[/right]

He took his buckler in hand, started to struggle, first to his knees, then hopefully to his feet—gunfire erupted around him and the rest, the ringing returning with a vengeance and threatening to leave him just as disoriented as when he'd first started trying to move.

And the ground shattered beneath the group, sending Esben tumbling below, all sense of balance lost.

[hr]

Esben's sword and buckler clattered to the stone floor as he touched down, soft as a feather, and still he crumpled back to the floor once the full force of gravity took over. He had his eyes shut tight, trying once again to right himself within the void by force of will—focused upon the rock beneath him to the exclusion of all else. Some voice he didn't know was speaking with the others, but when faced with trying to figure out what was being said or the risk of losing the contents of his stomach, it was more important that he avoid [i]that[/i] embarrassment. Bad enough that he'd been taken out of the fight so rapidly.

After a few moments it subsided again, and he could push himself up—to his knees, and then he slid back to a normal sitting position. He opened his eyes, looking around at the others—the blood all over the front of Izayoi's clothing stood out first, followed by Rudolf, falling down hard to one knee—just as a burst of red hair filled his vision, worried green eyes and flushed cheeks coming into focus as his eyes slowly adjusted.

She was holding something out to him, but between the ringing he'd already had in his ears and the cannon barrage that had made it worse, he was having to try and read her lips more than he could really hear anything she was saying.

[i]Drink,[/i] he thought he caught.

[color=#b3ccff][i]"Hold kjeft,[/i] Mini,"[/color] he grumbled, his hoarse, almost-unrecognizable voice sounding distant in his own ears—but at least he could start focusing in on it. [color=#b3ccff]"I can't catch up. What are you holding..."[/color] His eyes crossed, the vertigo coming on again for a moment—focused again, and he could recognize the canteen for what it was. With a sigh of relief he took the water, taking a few sips just to try and ease the pain in his throat. He'd need something else for the headache, undoubtedly. [color=#b3ccff]"Thank you, thank you—go focus on one of the others, I should be alright for now. Rudi looks like he's just aged ten years since we started."[/color]

Unceremoniously dismissing the diminutive red mage, he turned around, trying to gain the positions of the others...found Éliane and Eve a short distance away, and raised his free arm to point at them, wincing again at the pain in it and his chest. [color=#b3ccff]"Eve, Elly..."[/color]

The arm bent, shaking slightly and pointing at a nose that was misshapen at least as much by the expression on his face as he forced the injured limb to bend as by any injury [i]it[/i] may have sustained.

[color=#b3ccff]"...It's not broken, is it?"[/color]