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Brisa shook her mane free of Colosseum dust and coughed a little in the cloud. "Knew we could count on ya, fella," she wheezed. "I wanna see that fuckin' replay footage." She patted Owen firmly on the shoulder while she caught her breath, then gave him a firm hug when she had it. Then, there...

"We got this, Owen," cried Brisa, as she kited Sprout for the final combo. "Let him have every strike y'can muster!" Salt and sand, he was tough, and she and Astrid were on their last legs. Was Owen really gonna have to finish the fight? ...If he did, it'd be a hell of a full circle. I...

[flavour in the morning: marvel at the transformation, get bestowed, go ape shitt, whiplash him, friends are great] Brisa squinted up at a titanic figure, the kind of motherfucker you'd normally need a whole team to fight. Yet here they were, squaring up against a guy who could practically see...

Brisa swore under her breath. Sprout's dancing and calling and infuriating evasiveness were getting to her. "I'm gonna take him apart," she spat, and roared as she contrived to unleash a lightningstorm on the aspirant zygarde's position.

Brisa blinked. Gods, it was weird seeing a strong, confident incineroar besides Starr move like that on the battlefield. He fought pretty differently, but still. If she squinted, it was almost like she was watching Starr drill a different moveset. It was . . . enjoyable. Good fucking gods...

Brisa blew a low breath. That was some supernatural charisma right there. Damnit, she hadn't expected him to get them with interference. Whatever. She'd strike hard, fast, and save enough energy to do it again on the next burst... She dashed for Sprout faster than most could follow, knowing he...

Brisa cracked her neck and slammed one zeraora fist into the other zeraora palm. She knew what the crowd liked. "Don't you worry, Sprout," she called, "I'm gonna do my level goddamn best t'kick yer ass. I expect the same of you, fella!" The rush of searing Radiance blared in her ears...

Brisa coughed blood and made hacking sounds of laughter as she pulled herself to all fours, then rose up on her knees. 'Yield' indeed. What a hell of a fight. And their meltdown strategy had paid off as intended. Brilliant. Utterly fucking brilliant. "Closest one yet?" she called. "Whaddaya...

Whatever their commander had planned . . . Brisa trusted in him for it to be worth it. Win or lose, she'd fight – and fight to win, at that. No matter how battered her body felt, Brisa Escarpa was still born ready for fights like this. "You know I ain't the type to call it early, Diyem!" she...

She was getting . . . tired. Diyem was giving them the fight of their goddamn lives and then some. Every limb felt like so much pulverised muscle tissue and shattered bone, even as Blacklight energy stitched her back together and sealed her wounds. Do yer job, ranger. You can rest when this...

Nevermind Inan, Astrid was cute as hell. Love her. But there was a fight to win, and Brisa intended to see it through, no matter how broken and bruised she felt. "Welcome to Cibus, kid," she drawled, wiping blood from her brow. "Why don'tcha show us what ya got?" Brisa let up her paws, and –...

Brisa didn't waste breath on words while she had striking to do. Diyem was a ponderous opponent when harried by the right techniques, and if she was lucky, and attracted less attention than Astrid's characteristic leap towards the void, she'd cling to consciousness a little longer. One shield...

Brisa grunted with defiant, stubborn resolve as the hammer came crashing down. Motherfucker was stronger than ever. "Thank us after we kick yer ass, Chief," she snarled. "No matter how hard you hit me, I ain't goin' down afore I hit you harder'n that." Blacklighting crackled around her body...

Brisa stared down Diyem, bared her teeth, and felt her hackles shiver. This was a more daunting challenge in some ways than they'd ever faced as a trio. She honestly didn't know if they could expect to win. But she'd fight anyway, 'cause that was what she did. "You'll see us at our best...

Brisa peeled away a little from the bear hug she'd been giving Starr to look quizzically at Starr's alt-timeline counterpart. "Huh? You an' Red goin' worldhoppin' again t'gether or somethin'?"

The final moments of the fight were a mixture of sharply-rising panic, anger, and grim assurance that if there was a damn thing to be done, Starr would do it. Brisa couldn't take off at a run as intended with the crowd so agitated, but she could jump from seat cushion to railing and downwards...

From the stands, Brisa and Luz watched with avid attention, and discussed the flow of the match in their private telepathic link. Naturally, they did not join in the whoops and cheers for Giovanni, but anyone could feel the energy in the stadium. As Astrid went down, Brisa grinned with...

Brisa tried not to show alarm in front of the crowd. It wouldn't do. "Kyukon. Bow t'the crowd and calmly take yer leave. We're gonna go find Truffle in the Colo's infirmary. Y'got it?" Brisa padded over Leg, who was anxiously stitching together her disguise. Brisa extended a paw, not to shake...

Seven strikes. That's how many lightning flash-step blows she could deliver, at her current level of fatigue. Truffle still thought he could win, but if she fought for real, she could fucking kill him. Damn it, should she refuse to fight? Would he even stop fighting if she did? Truffle's eyes...

Brisa tensed up, a pit in her stomach. Beside her, Icetales still gave voice to eterna-empowered exhortations and encouragement, to which her body yet keenly responded. "C'mon, Truffle, give it up! I ain't fuckin' smack-talkin', cut it out already!" Maybe if she broke that disguise for good...