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There'd been little time to get to know Team Gyro, as Brisa had been keen to do with the members of the other Omen teams. Perhaps she'd get to know them by the purest means there were – battling – and converse afterwards. Either way, they'd both known they were in for one hell of a tough fight...

"What're y'gettin' at, exactly?" asked Brisa, tail swishing. "I mean, in terms of demeanour...? Bahamut, I'd say y'were utterly despondent back then. ...Nah, more intense even than that, to tell the truth." Brisa curled a lip with the memory of admixed disgust and pity. "Wretchedly...

Brisa gave Diyem a curt nod. I'm fine, Chief. You can depend on me. Bahamut was a strange creature to begin with, with a strange psychology. Not only that, he'd been restored to life with Maple's Radiance many months ago, and further restored by Joule's light, had he not? Perhaps Shadows could...

Brisa grimaced. "Prophecy, memory, or both. And Eternatus of Etherium's intent, fixed on this world." She swallowed, conscious of every sensation, every thought. Did Bahamut know what was happening to him? If her gut was right, the necrozma had thought of a way to save his world and take out...

Brisa eyed Bahamut with care. What was the right play, here? He'd always been resistant to being understood, and so, she did not understand him. Had he meant to stun Nero, or was his mind so broken that glimpsing it dismayed the unprepared? Could it be done safely...? "I don't reckon we are...

Logging writing and art worth one wave, and the following stat allocations:

Brisa's efforts to track down one of the Miracles she was familiar with hadn't borne fruit just yet. Nobody was in the training ground, to her simultaneous disappointment and relief, and nobody was on Guild premises. Or so she'd thought. As she went to exit, she overhead part of a conversation...

Brisa chuckled, holding a paw to her chest to tamp down the pain the laughter caused her battered ribcage. "Thanks, partner. An' I wish the same fer you." She padded over to her friend, smiling. "Don't you go feelin' like y'ain't special t'me just 'cause I don't much fancy matchin' tongues...

Brisa made a face. "His 'replica' already defeated the enemy we're starin' down. An' his team neatly handed our asses to us, near-enough. Second-rate, indeed." She shook her mane, and winced at the throbbing in her aching head. Probably needed to visit the infirmary again. Or, uh, not that...

Ayy lmao

Brisa raised a brow. "I'm sure he does, an' I'm sure it's a good one, but by the stars, it'd better be. I'll be interested t'hear it either way." She sighed, and went to get herself a drink. Something light. She was keeping off the heavy stuff until Dave was a little less worrisome. "Reminds...

Brisa considered this as she stretched out, first shoulders, then haunches. "Alright, noted. If you do come along t'one of those, we'll be sure to give you a shout fer whatever's needed. We've drilled enough times that I can think fast 'bout what'll help out most." She grinned. "Lookin'...

"I have trouble tellin' the difference myself, sometimes," admitted Brisa. "Did I protect the town outta the goodness of my heart, or 'cause I felt like I had no choice? I dunno. I think it's more important that there's hope fer a better future somewhere, even if some of yer allies ain't ones...

[[Nice work, Yellow. I'm truly impressed. You had me fooled!]]

Brisa rubbed her chin. "Yeah. Yeah, y'could be right. I mean, even if it's just a spark of willingness to get some help with whatever his shit is... It could change things. His issue was he'd been workin' on the problem alone fer five years, right? Whether he sends fer me or someone else, could...

Brisa is still hotly pursuing her Colosseum career. Next up in the Omen Gauntlet, she and Starr intend to face Team Gyros. What does Owen have to say about their fighting style? Any advice for the gals?

Brisa waved her tail noncommittally. "I guess so. Fer me, this is all still about, uh, opportunity rather than selfhood. But yeah. I'd like these memories back..." She flicked an ear and grimaced at a stray thought, a stray pain. "But really I'd rather have the people back than the memories. Or...

Brisa pried herself out of unconsciousness and scraped herself off the ground to see, through that dizzy post-knockout haze, yet another mutual knockout. On the scale of two dozen participants, this time. Holy skyfire. She coughed, and blood spattered her forearm where she put it to her mouth...

"Feelings, huh?" Brisa mused on that. That feeling she had now, of hope and expectation for Gil to spark something new in her life, of fondness and admiration in retrospect for their brave little soul... If it could survive the return home, maybe she'd be alright. "That's a good thing t'hope...