Search results

Not quite a knockout, but a technical victory was just as good in a clash like this. And goddamn, what a battle. "Yer a real storm-with-claws," remarked Brisa, steadying her breath from the exertion of the final exchange. "That's the kind of goddamn battle I live fer. You get it. You fight like...

Brisa came out of her combat trance with a sharp roar of satisfaction. Zeraora's intent was to strike hard, Brisa could feel it in her just as plain as if there were Whiplash cords connecting them. She could probably survive a full-on onslaught – she'd tuned her aura to survive a lot – but that...

"Well, we've done all we can, chief." Brisa looked around at the gathered throngs. Her eyes met the eyes of certain others. So many brave souls, so many loved ones. Had it really been nearly a year? She'd spent so long in their precious company... And now that time together was coming to a...

Zeraora's adeptness with the Blacklight was extaordinary. Her speed, her disposition – this was exactly how Brisa sought to fight. She'd have to draw on Shadows to survive more attacks like that. She dug deep. What do you fear becomin', ranger? What d'you hope fer? To be like her...? Enough...

Brisa rolled her neck, cracked her knuckles, breathed deep and felt the Blacklight flow and ebb around, within, and between them. This duel would be something else, win or lose. It was right that it should take place here. Plasma bloomed over Brisa's body, a lightless fire embracing her, to...

Brisa didn't answer instantly. A request from a Legend should be considered. Its implications given due thought. Zeraora's species, at least in this world, was a regional guardian. Had her specialism confined her to Amp Plains, at least without surrendering a good portion of her power? Indeed...

An explanation so simple, Brisa had overlooked it. Not so great a mystery after all. "I hope that's true," she said, honestly. "As dangerous as the Blacklight is, it's all that's preserved this world of late." Luck and skill, huh? "How did you come by yer ascension, Zeraora?" asked Brisa...

Diyem, sapping corruption from the more psychologically vulnerable member of the party? Brisa nodded, and gave a tiny, dry huff of amusement. "I suspect you're right. There's a disparity between our clearer-headed fighters and the more troubled, yet they somehow get by." Zeraora truly was fully...

Brisa bowed her head a moment. Cibus was not ruled by its Legends, but respect wouldn't go amiss. Given Zeraora's apparent personality, perhaps brevity would also be best. She had that same terseness common in the Escarpa. Like Ma. "No other 'mon of Cibus, not even a Legend, has touched the...

Huh. A random strike, or a show of force? Well, Brisa had fought gods before. She'd keep her shit together. "I want to better understand what is is to be a zeraora, and to better understand myself," answered Brisa. "The Blacklight has shown me that there's still a call inside me that draws me...

Luz' description of Zeraora had been accurate, but it hadn't explained everything that Brisa now felt about her. There was power, judgement, independence in that voice. There must be a spartan personality beneath that reverberation, to control the Blacklight while remaining lucid. Brisa had the...

Brisa remained with Koa a little while longer. Not much passed in the way of conversation. They shared a long moment in the storm, allowing themselves respite from their daily duties to grieve their imminent parting. It helped. Or at least, Brisa felt that it did. Either way, they deserved it...

Despite her breath catching, and her golden bands gleaming softly in the gloom in anticipation of making a connection, of soothing Koa, Brisa let it happen, let her friend have this moment of catharsis. His Shadow changed, much as hers had, its chains dissipating rather than fragmenting. She...

Just be . . . angry? Well, she already had anger enough, and it wasn't like it would help... And yet. "Y'know what?" said Brisa, a grin inching onto her face, "fuck it, why not?" She drew a sharp breath, and when thunder next struck, she threw her head back as Koa had done, and made that same...

Brisa looked at Koa with mixed feelings. He had the look of someone who was about to go petition gods on her behalf. Kinda felt good to have a friend so firmly in her corner like that. "I 'ppreciate that, Koa. Nothin' much t'be done about it, though." Damn, but the stormclouds were a good fit...

"Betcha can fuckin' guess how I feel, kid," she replied, with a sardonic jauntiness. "Give up all the healthy relationships I've ever had an' a shinin' career doin' what I love, t'go back to livin' on my own workin' a thankless job fer people what distrust me on sight? Don't take much genius to...

Brisa's smile was dry as dust, thinking of just how fucking gruelling their final challenge may yet be, but it was a little easier to believe they could secure a victory. "You just keep showin' up to trainin', Koa," she chided, gently. "Ain't much longer now... Every hour counts."

Brisa shook her head, but her smile was rueful. "I dunno. I love a good clean fight, and that... That weren't it. I'm fine with puttin' on a show, sparrin', experimentin', whatever, but the thing that gets me is that they trash-talked us, snooped on our battle records, an' went outta their way...

Brisa nodded, and blew air through her nose in heavy acknowledgement. "You do what you can. Reposition yerself. Use a fallback technique. Recover yer stamina. Use yer items. Have y'seen the budget we've got fer this one? 'S'fuckin' princely, is what it is." She bit her lip. That wasn't quite...

"I've been damn near knocked outta fights before now 'cause of shit like that, though never quite so bad." Brisa pursed her mouth. Koa was taking it hard. Why was he so reluctant to admit that? At least he was. "Be reasonable with yerself, at least. You were immobilised, but most everyone was...