Characters: Tidus, Firion, and Bartz
Rating: G
Genre: Attempted humour, general.
Word Count: 269
Other Notes: A response to the ffchaoticcosmos drabble party, way back when. This was posted by my non-fandom account, electricalsocks. An attempt at brevity!

Tidus jogged after Firion, Cloud and Cecil. He let the Brotherhood dissolve as he moved, a flurry of sparks into... wherever Cosmos was letting them keep their weapons. Where that was, he had no idea. And dude, it was certainly beside the point. Made it way easier to deal with manikin attacks, like just now. He'd certainly owned their crystal hides!

"Hey, Nobara! Wait up!" He skidded to a halt beside his new friend, and then reached out to clap him on the shoulders, in a show of good-nature. Firion simply gave him an odd look, as if not entirely sure how to deal with an energetic guy like Tidus, and then nodded.

"I take it you're coming with us, then?" Firion questioned, his voice a little hesitant. Maybe he was puzzled at the sudden camaraderie. "I thought you were travelling with Zidane and Bartz."

"Psh, Bartz. That guy annoys me, man. Seriously!" Tidus told Firion, firmly, as they rounded the bluffs of the lunar subterrane. "There we were, surrounded by all sorts of manikins, I was just about to hit 'em with the good old sonic buster and then!"

"…then?" Firion raised an eyebrow at Tidus' dramatic pause. Did the man have no concept of dramatic flair?

"Bartz takes out a blitzball, looks at me, and then proceeds to own the hell out of 'em with the Jecht Shot. Miming the Jecht Shot is not cool, man. Not cool."

"…Jecht Shot?"

Tidus sighed. "Just take my word for it. Not cool. Seriously, if Bartz doesn't stop it with this mime schtick soon, I'll feed him to ExDeath myself."