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Most Recent Posts
Yelling was the first thing Julian registered when he sat up, and his hands went up to rub his nose and adjust his glasses out of habit. The second was the number of people around him, all of whom he didn’t recognize. The third was the forest itself, and he felt fear sink its claws in because though he knew next to nothing about forests, he’d seen enough Oregon woodland to know that this forest, with its sprawling trees and vividly-hued flowers, looked nothing like the pine one he’d walked into.
Sitting up, he patted himself down rapidly, exhaling in relief when he found his phone still in his pockets. Pulling it out and turning it on, however, saw his face fall: There was no signal.
“What. The fuck.” His hand dropped, his eyes flicking over the people around him again. They looked around his age, maybe slightly older, and a few struck him more as adults than high schoolers. From what they were saying, it seemed none of them knew where they were either, much less why they were here, and fuck that girl was loud.
Looking over, Julian saw that the girl shrieking appeared to be stuck under another girl—one who was wearing the same clothes as her, but with pink details instead of green. Were they freaky twins or groupies, then, and why had they thought matching outfits was a good idea?
Thankfully, two people had arrived to help her, which meant that she’d finally shut up for a second. Her rescuers were both guys, one red-haired and one brown-haired, and Julian put them down as simps as he stood, pocketing his phone and dusting his pants off. The red-haired one, who’d been closer to Julian when he woke up, introduced himself as Marcus, and the other was identified as Brenton by a tall black guy nearby, who apparently knew him as a kid. Brenton confirmed this, naming the childhood friend as Wale like the rapper, and Julian squinted at the taller guy, wondering if Wale had named himself after a rapper. Given that ‘Wale’ didn’t really seem like a given name, he was inclined to believe so, but maybe he was jumping to conclusions. After all, it could easily have been Wale’s parents who’d named him, and if that was the case… They were some type of boomers.
As he stood, the twins identified themselves as Aina and Hannei, but they were already Pink and Green in his book. Their Japanese sounded fast and fluent enough for them to be natives, but who knew these days. Still, them being here with everyone else was strange, and it was even stranger that no one here looked like a stereotypical Oregonian, but then again what did a stereotypical Oregonian look like anyway? A hiking enthusiast with something against umbrellas?
Two girls, one head to toe in punk rock fantasy and the other freckled and dark-haired, started talking about how they got here, and their words pinged something in Julian. The last he thing remembered was… walking into the forest, which had still been a bit drippy from the rain the previous night. Forced by his mom, who’d unplugged his Playstation in her insistence that he go spend some time outside, he’d been wandering, kicking at stray leaves and branches. It was around then, while he was thoroughly annoyed by his congested nose and muddied shoes, that he’d glanced up at the sun filtering through the trees and then… this.
He swiped at his nose with a knuckle, whispering a curse under his breath as he refocused on the talking few. A girl with purple hair had started speaking, and for some reason she decided to sit down midway, like some pouting kid tired out by their tantrum. Whether or not she was actually mad or tired, Julian couldn’t tell from this angle, and the boy with the longer hair who started talking next was no more helpful. He brought up someone named Venassa, pronounced like some weird combination of Vanessa and not winning the spelling bee, and his story was vague enough to not bring anything new to the table.
“I was walking into the forest from my grandparent’s house, and…” Julian’s mouth went dry as he realized the number of eyes on him, and his brain caught up to him. Shit. Why’d he open his mouth again? It’s not like he had anything new to say, and his story was as useless as Venassa dude’s, and their conversation was going nowhere anyway, and—what the fuck had he been saying before?
Whispering a slew of curses, he focused himself, clearing his throat. “I-I’m Julian,” he said, fixing on a glare that dared anyone to comment as he shut his mouth, intent on not digging his awkward grave any deeper.
Nang Ki-woo
Mt. Moon: Group Campfire
The way Sia puffed up as she was introduced made Ella giggle, and Fabs’ decision to take a calming breath in and ignore the Jigglypuff—a rare display of restraint that was becoming more common to the Clefairy, much to Ella’s delight—made her giggle even more as she looked to JJ.
Realizing that her giggles had interrupted his words, she straightened, eyes wide. “Sorry,” she whispered. Thankfully, he seemed like a nice guy who understood a bit of personality from Fabs, or Ella would’ve had to consider returning her Clefairy. She hadn’t missed the way JJ’s eyes had stayed on Fabs longer than anyone else’s, and it’d made her wonder whether he was an aspiring coordinator. In a way, she was too, if only because teaching Pokemon to perform routines of elegance and beauty sounded like a delightful pastime, and she’d welcome a fellow enthusiast with open arms.
Sydnee, on the other hand, immediately struck Ella as a tomboy type, but Ella figured that might be more because of the girl’s short hair than her actual personality. Though she too had considered cutting her hair short, she’d Torchicked out every time she sat down in the salon chair, her future as a trainer icon flashing before her eyes as she imagined lopping off more than half her hair. That said, she respected short hair, even admired it, and as a result she admired Sydnee. Besides having a Trapinch, which evolved into a fascinating dragon-type Ella had nothing but respect for, Sydnee had an egg. Full and proper. Ella had seen eggs before, yes, but never up close, and she half-wondered whether it’d be rude to ask to hold it. Was it as hard as it seemed? How heavy was it, and was it rough to the touch, or smooth like the glass that contained it?
The answer to those questions, though, would have to wait because it was definitely rude to ask to touch the egg. It was in an egg case for a reason, after all, and Ella breathed a sigh as she refocused on Sydnee’s words, settling for petting Quinn.
At the mention of Fabs and the Clefairy population, she smiled, nodding. The Clefairy were a friendly group, and she was able to stay and watch a whole dance and a half even after she’d convinced Fabs to join her team, so the thought of them minding anything seemed silly. Zubat, however, were a very real concern, and Ella looked to Fabs worriedly. Last time she’d been here, Fabs had gotten into a scuffle with a stray Zubat that had ended up getting him poisoned, and she had a feeling he wouldn’t take too warmly to the idea of heading through a swarm of them. Returning him was a viable option, then, but while Quinn couldn’t be poisoned, she wasn’t particularly good at fighting flying-types resistant to her both her strongest moves, so Zubat sounded quite bad.
Still, despite the nervous undercurrent running around the fireplace, Sydnee was right. Ella herself had seen the extent of the cave-in, so was little reason to wait around and pretend like help would get here before their supplies ran out—or at least before hers did. Unfortunately, her tendency to under pack had caught up to her, and if it came down to sharing rations, she had little to bring to the table other than a few fruits, protein bars, and pokeblocks.
“A real adventure,” she said, her gaze sliding from Lys to Sydnee, “but I agree. We should try and find another exit. It’s a big cave, and I’m sure people have gotten trapped in here before…”
She trailed off not quite knowing how to continue that thought. The implication was that those ‘people’ had gotten out some other way, but the other option was there too. Still, she didn’t want to leave the conversation hanging on a low note, so she perked up, flashing Lys a smile.
“My compliments to the chef, though!” she said, indicating the empty bowl and spoon beside her. “A campfire and soup really hit the spot.”
— Moved —
In
The Promise - Second Star to the Right, and Straight on 'til Morning.
→
6 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Keaton Plasse
Keaton’s eyes were closed and she hadn’t moved in a good few minutes, but though sleep buzzed at the corners of her mind, it eluded her, slipping out of her grasp every time she felt like she was getting close. Perhaps it was the stress of what was to happen, or of nerves she’d refused to acknowledge so many times she’d forgotten about them. It wouldn’t be the first time she lost sleep due to anxiety, and as she shifted, one thumb rubbing the rough skin on the other, the alarm on her phone sounded.
Slapping a hand out to her nightstand, she turned the alarm off, eyes trained up at the ceiling as she lay on her back. Above was a square pattern of black vinyl tile, which was shone white where the morning sunlight hit its edges. Though she’d learned about color concepts in her interior design class, she only started appreciating the aesthetics of a black ceiling when she started living under one, and considering the furniture that came with the room, she had to admit the ship had some good interior designers. Or was it all AI?
“Caroline, did you pick the ceiling color?” she asked, not budging from her spot in bed.
“Good morning, Keaton. And no, I didn’t. The Promise predates me by three years,” Caroline answered back, and Keaton exhaled a sigh, remembering her facts.
“Sorry, yeah, my bad,” she said, getting up and stretching. “How’s your morning been?” Ever since Packet’s explanation of Cara, Keaton had made an active effort to talk to her like she would a friend, though it was difficult considering that Cara still talked like a program that knew exactly what to say when Keaton asked it. While Cara paused and thought over her answers like anyone in casual conversation, her actions were hard for Keaton to believe when her power filtered true from false with a single thought. Still, Keaton had been trying, hence Caroline instead of Cara, and sometimes she could almost believe it was working.
“Hm, my morning’s been normal. It snowed last night so it’s a bit chilly out right now. Remember to bundle up if you’re heading out, Keaton.”
“Right, will do,” Keaton said, walking over to her wardrobe to start layering sweaters. As usual, her power interrupted to tell her that yes, asking about the morning would trigger an automatic weather report, and she focused on adjusting the way the collar of her denim jacket fit over her sweater and under her hoodie. “You know, I actually hadn’t seen snow before coming here,” she said as she laced up her boots. “It doesn’t snow in LA, and I’ve never been farther north than Fresno. I guess that’s what happens when none of your relatives move around much.”
“Huh, that’s very interesting, Keaton,” came the automatic response, and Keaton swallowed a sigh as she looked at herself in the mirror. The bags under her eyes were a normal sort of dark, and apparently her lying in bed not sleeping had helped, even if she couldn’t tell how much. She could throw on some makeup, pretend that she was off to do something normal, but that didn’t feel right. What felt right was the way she could instantly picture the layout of the Spire, call up the schematics she’d memorized by heart with barely a thought. Sure her power would check her when the time came, but she had to first commit it all to memory, and that’s exactly what she’d done.
“We’re still good on the dad thing, right?” she asked, rubbing a thumb against her pointer finger. “Voice recordings, ARCH 101 TA?”
“Yes, Keaton.”
“Right.” Keaton nodded, glancing over her outfit again in the mirror before heading towards the door. “Well, I’m off then, Caroline. Thanks for being there for everyone,” she said as she opened the door. A gust of cold air blew her hair back as she stepped out.
“No problem, Keaton. I’m just doing my job.”
After a bagel and coffee at the closest diner open at five in the morning, Keaton made her way to Tia Cori’s, idly reviewing maps in her head. Though she and Nic had made some headway in terms of Spire layout, the schematics Packet had provided were a lifesaver that moved both their schedule and understanding of the Spire forward. A large part of their success, then, had been due to Packet’s contributions, and as a result Keaton’s view of him had changed from awkward teen into capable young adult, teen or not. Considering what types of jobs his power lent him to, his maturity wasn’t surprising, but it was respectable nonetheless. If not for their circumstances, Keaton could’ve seen herself befriending Packet. Sure she had nothing to offer a technomancer, but in her experience, people immersed in technicalities all day liked being able to leave that behind and relax, and that she could help with. That Packet was friends with Eli was further testament to his character, and if they got out of the Spire alive, getting to know him was on Keaton’s to-do list.
Taking the alleyway behind the coffeeshop meant walking through the dirtier part of the street where snow mixed with grease and smoke to create a sort of black sludge that Keaton deliberately refused to consider, lest her power inform her exactly what might be in said sludge. Whether she minded it coating her shoes didn’t matter; they’d soon have to walk through worse, and she’d dressed accordingly, with black leather boots and nylon pants that were advertised as waterproof. Leather was a bit extra here, but she’d wanted lace-ups over rubber, which tended to squeak, so she’d settled for looking like some covert ops wannabe from waist down. As for the top half, she was sticking with keeping her fingers crossed that no one splashed her in the sewers. The backpack on her back was small and contained simple necessities: an overstuffed first aid kit, a flashlight, and a can of pepper spray. Sure pepper spray wouldn’t get her anywhere considering where she was and who she was dealing with, but the hot pink canister had been a gift from her dad when she left for college, and packing it now, when she knew she might actually use it for the first time, seemed appropriate.
Spotting Packet and Lynn, Keaton waved, a smile crossing her face when she saw the distance between them and the awkwardness on their faces. Seeing the two together brought to mind Packet’s toaster comment, which never failed to make her smile, though by the looks of the simple annoyance on Lynn’s face, Lynn hadn’t been thinking of it.
“Did I miss anything important?” she asked, looking between them as she came to a stop beside them, her smile teasing. Jokes in the alleyway at just before six in the morning seemed to naturally fall flat, but she didn’t mind. Anything to lighten up this mood worked for her.
Cavan Maynard
Mushroom Forest || Night
“Er, what do I call you?” Cavan asked as he walked along between Bax and the Kiwimon with the cracked mask, the former of whom was glaring at the latter, prepared to growl at any time. “‘Kiwimon’ is, well, there’s a lot of Kiwimon around.”
The Kiwimon peered back at Bax, its lips curved in what Cavan could only assume was amusement. “Right,” it said, rolling its eyes. “Names. I’ll never understand why you tamers are so obsessed with them. I’m a Kiwimon, so call me a Kiwimon.” Then, after a pause, it looked back at Cavan, its one green eye giving nothing away as it looked at him in the darkness. “Flynn. You can call me Flynn,” it said, then focused its gaze forward.
“Right, Flynn, you a guy then?” While he and Bax had to maintain speed walking and jogging speeds respectively to keep up with Flynn, the Kiwimon showed no signs of wanting to slow its pace, so Cavan didn't ask.
“A guy?” Flynn repeated, glancing back again, his one green eye meeting Cavan’s gaze testily. “Don’t you have more important things to ask about?”
“Er, I guess?” Cavan rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of how to come back from that. For most digimon, their voice was enough to tell their gender since they were distinctly feminine, masculine, or neither. In Flynn’s case, however, the Kiwimon’s voice was too scratchy for Cavan to make anything specific out, though he was leaning towards masculine just because he got that vibe from the Kiwimon.
Flynn managed another eye roll. “Yeah I’m a ‘guy’. And to answer the other questions you’re probably thinking of asking, yes I’m blind in one eye, and yes these are injuries from fighting with the mushrooms, the sporous bastards.” He cocked his head the other way so that Cavan got a better look at the crack in his mask. “Mask got smashed in a fight with a Woodmon, which I don’t recommend you trying unless you can get that fluffball to digivolve, and my voice got messed up by the laughing gas,” he said, attempting a throat clear that sounded more like a wheeze than anything. “Laughing too much too long… Don’t recommend that either.”
“R-right.” Though Cavan had been wondering about those exact questions, having them answered so suddenly threw him off. Still, he was glad to have answers, especially since they lent themselves to more questions. “You said you, er, you said something about a Woodmon?” Asking about past injuries didn’t seem like a good idea, so he’d sidestepped the ask. Clumsily, sure, but hopefully he’d caught himself early enough that Flynn hadn’t noticed.
“Woodmon, Mushroomon’s digivolved form.” Flynn’s green eye lingered him, and he got the sense that the Kiwimon was considering him, which wasn’t a bad thing in itself. After another second, though, Flynn looked away, his pace as steady as it’d been when they’d set out. “A lot of things have changed since the last time tamers were here.”
“I’m getting that,” Cavan said, frowning. Woodmon? Sure he remembered chancing across descriptions of Ninjamon and maybe a single Kiwimon NPC back in the day, but Woodmon? No way, unless he and his friends had somehow missed a large and entirely optional portion of the Mushroom Forest quests, which he doubted. Him missing it on his own was believable, but a group of four all missing a quest? Considering how much smarter some of his friends were, he didn’t think that likely.
“Let’s start at the top. What do you know?” Flynn asked, his footsteps treading a low bass for the forest’s leafy ambience.
“I know that both Mushroomon and Floramon live in the forest, and that their digivolutions do too, apparently. And I know that Blossomon is the one in charge of this place.” And the one with access to the portal, but Cavan left that out. No need to make it seem like he was in to do anything else beside help.
“So you know nothing about what happened after the tamers left. Explains why you kept bringing up Blossomon like some daft hatchling.” Flynn sniffed, then continued. “Blossomon’s gone. Corrupted. The Mushroomon population kept growing, and when Woodmon started popping up, the old flower couldn’t keep up. They got to him, and he put up a good fight, but he lost in the end.” His tone turned sharp towards the end, almost scathing, as if there was blame to be assigned there. It almost sounded like he was blaming Blossomon, which Cavan didn’t know what to make of. Virus-attribute digimon like Mushroomon were notoriously difficult to deal with when their populations grew too big, which was why most of Digimon Tamers had been about battling them and keeping them in check. To hear that Blossomon had lost the fight, then, was disappointing but not difficult to believe, and Cavan had a sense that Blossomon was probably core to the mission announced on his digivice.
“Blossomon was corrupted? Did he turn virus?” The mere thought sent a shiver down Cavan’s spine. Blossomon was an Ultimate-level digimon, and in the game, players didn’t have to deal with Ultimate-level digimon until their characters were established Champion-level digimon.
“Virus? No, but he did turn something.” Flynn’s tone had taken on that tone of annoyance again, and it was clear where he was assigning blame now. “We’re almost there, so you can see for yourself.”
Another few minutes of fast-paced walking saw the colorful forest fade out in favor of the bland green of heavy woodland. Soon enough, all they passed were tan-barked trees raising leafy greens overhead, which seemed to grow denser with every step forward. The forest almost seemed to close in on them, the gaps between the trunks and branches growing smaller and smaller as they moved forward.
“We’ll be climbing from here,” Flynn said when they reached a fence-like row of trees, the texture of the bark resembling rope more than wood.
“Climbing?” Cavan looked around uncertainly. All he could see were trees.
Crouching down, Flynn boosted himself into a leap that easily cleared the top of Cavan’s head, landing cleanly on a branch above. “Yeah, climbing,” he said, looking down at Cavan and Bax with his one green eye. “You two coming?”
“Er.” Cavan looked to Bax, eyes widening when he saw the Black Gabumon easily scale up the bark of the tree Flynn had jumped into. Right, Bax was a beast-type digimon equipped with a pair of long, sharp claws that made short work of anything digging and climbing. He’d have no problem climbing, unlike Cavan.
Approaching a tree with a low-hanging branch, Cavan grasped it, attempting to raise himself but settling for inching up by trying to find leverage in the bark with his feet and kick himself up onto the branch. As he struggled to hoist himself up, his feet scrabbling against the bark, he caught Bax staring at him, and he grunted, managing a grin. “I’m fine!”
Bax didn’t look like he believed him in the slightest, and he jumped over, easily landing on the branch Cavan was struggling with, his claws scoring the bark like it were clay. Leaning over, he opened his mouth, and at the sight of the row of sharp teeth, Cavan cried out and dodged his mouth.
“What was that for?” he demanded, looking at Bax with wide eyes.
“Hold still,” Bax snapped back, leaning over again and snapping up his sleeve. When he started tugging, it clicked for Cavan that he was trying to help, and with his help, Cavan managed to heft himself up onto the branch, breathing out a sigh of relief when he did.
“Thanks,” Cavan said when he caught his breath, giving Bax a thankful look that the Gabumon pointedly avoided.
“You two planning on doing that for every single branch?” Flynn asked, his tone casual but betraying a note of amusement.
“What’s it to you?” Bax snapped back, throwing a glare at Flynn, who managed a scratchy laugh.
“Well, I don’t want to be here forever, you see.” Flynn cocked his head, looking around, then jumped over to the branch Cavan and Bax were on as well. “Look, I’m only offering because I want to get this over with as fast as possible,” he said, bending his head down so that it was lower than his body, “so hurry up.”
Cavan widened his eyes. “I, er, don’t think you’ll be able to carry me,” he said, frowning.
Flynn shot him an annoyed look. “Who’s carrying anyone? I’m telling you to use me to reach the next branch since Gabumon here’s too short to do it.”
“Oh. Right.” Cavan got up, pausing to regain his balance before walking over to Flynn, his steps slow and careful. “Thanks,” he said as he stepped onto Flynn’s head, then body, surprised when the Kiwimon barely budged at his weight.
“Just hurry up,” Flynn ground out as he hefted Cavan onto the next branch up with a push of his head. “We’ll need to climb another five, at least.”
Though Bax was clearly unhappy about Flynn’s earlier comment about him not being able to help, he didn’t protest much as he followed Cavan’s slow progression up the branches, which Cavan was grateful for. Bax was too short-tempered for his own good sometimes, and Cavan was glad to see that there were moments when the Gabumon knew to hold back his anger. As for Flynn, Cavan was glad to find that there was a decent soul underneath his can’t-phase-me exterior. Despite Flynn’s annoyance, the Kiwimon clearly wanted to help, and Cavan was getting the sense that there was more to Flynn’s story than he was letting on. His scars, for one, were uniquely his. The digimon Cavan had seen on the Flower Council lacked scars like Flynn’s, though Cavan admittedly hadn’t gotten a good look at many digimon there. Still, even Flynn’s annoyance at Blossomon seemed to stem from a deeper concern, either for the forest or its inhabitants, and that thought made him realize he could probably do to take this all more seriously.
“Here is fine,” Flynn said, hopping up to the branch Cavan had hoisted himself up onto.
“What’re we looking for exactly?” Cavan asked between pants, his eyes flicking aimlessly over the woody landscape below. All he could see were trees, trees, and more trees.
“There, that thing.” Flynn stabbed his beak at a particularly strange set of woody stalks in the sea of forest. “Four legs, petal head?”
As soon as he pointed it out, Cavan saw it: A giant lizard made of wood and leaves, its tail and spines long and made entirely of brown ropes of wood that swirled in on themselves to form thick stalks. Even from a distance, Cavan could tell the thing was massive, the length of the ring of red, leaf-like petals around its head tall enough to clear the first row of branches near it. Though its eyes were closed, the leaves on its back rustled restlessly, and Cavan felt a shiver of fear crawl down his spine.
“What is that?” he asked, his eyes not leaving the leafy lizard that he was this close to calling a dragon. The woody tendrils on its back were tall enough for Cavan to easily picture them as a set of large wings if they bound together, and its frill of red leaves didn’t help persuade him otherwise.
“That, my friend, used to be Blossomon,” Flynn said, his tone hard. “More wood than flower these days, and a whole lot more hungry too.”
Cavan broke his stare to look at Flynn, eyes round. “H-hungry?”
“Yeah, we feed him. Every other day, usually, or every three if we can’t get our hands on some Mushroomon.” Flynn shook his head. “There’s no way around it. If he doesn’t eat, he starts rampaging, and he ends up destroying the forest with these ‘trees’ he summons. You can tell,” he said, nodding at the trees beside them. “These things around here—they’re weird. Wrong. They don’t grow like normal, don’t seed and flower. They just… exist.”
Cavan’s eyes returned to the beast in the forest, his stomach sinking. He’d expected some virus-afflicted Blossomon, an Ultimate-level digimon, but that thing? That thing looked way bigger than Ultimate. Mega? Ultra? Cavan would believe either at this point.
A black structure a small distance from the beast caught his eyes, and he pointed at it, glancing at Flynn. “What’s that?”
“That?” Flynn leaned forward, squinting his eye. “No idea. But it’s always been there.”
Cavan looked back at it, the weight in his gut growing heavier. It was the portal—or something like it. It had to be. Blossomon was the guardian of the forest, and he guarded the portal. That meant that the beast really was Blossomon, and was likely the key to his mission.
“Well, how about it, tamer?” Flynn asked, looking at him. “Any questions? Ideas on how you’re going to help? And if you still want to talk to Blossomon, be my guest. He might eat you, but that’d help too.”
Alice Takigawa
Mushroom Forest || Night
Hearing that Izzy was clueless as well wasn’t comforting, but Alice supposed there was little that could comfort her except answers she didn’t have at this point. There was something about not being in the know—not being in control—that was profoundly irritating, but she was distracted by Sunny’s question of whether or not she and Doru would be okay alone.
“Reporting back?” That was a good idea. Why hadn’t she thought of that? But, now that Izzy had called the role, there was little point in leaving with her. The most she could do if she tagged along was confirm Izzy’s account, which no one would doubt anyway. Clockmaker didn’t joke around, and anyone who’d seen guild chats recently knew that.
“I-I think Doru and I will stick around, yeah. You report back,” Alice said, looking to Doru, who gave a delayed but confirming nod. “We might not be here when you get back, but we’ll text when we head back ourselves.”
“Nice to meet you both too, and stay safe,” Doru said from beside her, offering Sunny a wave as the bird digimon waddled away with Izzy.
“Yeah, that too,” Alice said, realizing that she probably should’ve said that. Honestly, in-person conversations were exhausting, with all the thinking and second-guessing she needed to do. On top of that was the matter of her missing her emoticons. With them, it was so much easier to make her words sound happy and kind. Without them, however, she came off sounding more awkward and depressed than she wanted to, and since trying to emote her emoticons was out of the question, she was stuck like this.
“I should’ve remembered to say bye,” she muttered, kicking at a stray branch near her feet. It was such a basic thing, saying bye, and she’d forgotten it, getting too caught up with her next step to pay attention to Izzy’s. Her parents had taught her better, but she’d forgotten.
“That’s okay. I said bye,” Doru said, looking at her. His gaze was a little too interested in Alice’s comfort, and she clenched her teeth, crossing her arms as she looked around for a direction to walk them in.
“We’re going this way,” she said, starting off in said direction without waiting for Doru’s response. Within seconds, though, Doru had caught up with her, his steps larger than hers as he walked along beside her.
“Where are we going?” he asked after another second, and Alice clenched her teeth tighter because she didn’t know. She just didn’t want to stand there like some clueless person, but admitting that would be admitting that she was just a clueless person heading in a random direction, and she didn’t want to do that.
“Forwards,” she managed at last, her annoyance too apparent in her tone for her liking, but Doru didn’t pursue the point further, so maybe it was fine. Silence was better than having to admit she was wrong, after all, and it gave her time to focus on the forest, which had started out calming but was beginning to strike her as creepy. What did this place look like in the daytime? Would it be equally dark, considering the dense foliage overhead, or would there be enough sunlight filtering through the leaves to light the place up?
“There’s someone up ahead,” Doru said, and Alice froze, her eyes wide as the bushes ahead rustled. Out burst a tall, purple-haired girl whose shorts and platform boots were clearly not meant for forest-trekking. Her eyes were pink and flat—contacts, really?—as they looked over Alice and Doru, giving the impression that the girl wasn’t impressed, and the curl of annoyance that inspired was enough for Alice to guess who the girl was even before her Monodramon stepped out into the moonlight.
“Afton? Effie?” she asked, crossing her arms.
“Alice, Doormaus,” the girl replied, mimicking the delivery of her words but with none of her tone, which only irked Alice more.
“Nice to meet you, I’m Doru,” Doru asserted, stepping forward with a careful glance at Alice. Despite the annoyed look Alice shot him, though, he focused on the Monodramon sizing him up, meeting the dragon digimon’s narrowed eyes with a small smile.
Afton Reimer
Mushroom Forest || Night
Sure Alice wasn’t completely what Afton was expecting for D00rmaus. D00rmaus emoted like she breathed, sounded as upbeat as a leaf blower full of flowers and glitter, but take the glitz and glamor away and Afton could see where the wannabe groupee ended and the awkward, deadpan girl began. If Alice’s crossed arms didn’t spell out her dislike for Afton clearly enough, the distaste on her face did, and Afton figured it a waste of time to try and correct that opinion. Having D00rmaus feel awkward around her seemed like a win-win.
The Dorumon at Alice’s side, however, was interesting. Alice had named him Doru, as if people couldn’t see what digimon he was and what line he was from, which showed her lack of creativity and originality. She was probably the type to gravitate towards math, science, and history, the type to interpret art literally and fail to understand the subtext of pieces she came across, be that of music, literature, or otherwise. But that was enough about her. The Dorumon was what intrigued Afton. Unlike Monodramon, Doru seemed to understand nuance, and the smile he directed at Monodramon despite the dragon digimon’s open hostility revealed his maturity. Where Monodramon was quick to judge Doru to be below him, turning up his nose with a sniff, Doru understood that hostility or not, they were allies for the moment, and being polite now would serve him well in the long run. He had more maturity and intellect than many humans, nevermind digimon, and Afton respected that.
That all said, Afton wouldn’t get along with him either, and in a strange way, Monodramon fit her more. Sure Monodramon was prone to anger and arrogance, and sure she’d have to work that streak of dishonesty out of him, but he was something Afton could work with. He wouldn’t think to settle, wouldn’t think she’d gone too far or been too rude. Doru, on the other hand, would end up limiting her just as he limited himself, pushing her to grow in directions she didn’t want to grow in, and Afton could live without that. She wanted to rein her digimon in, not the other way around, and Monodramon worked perfectly with that role.
“How did you find us?” Alice asked, and Afton met her eyes solidly, noticing the way she looked at Afton like she was trying to figure out designs on some strange piece of pottery. It’d taken her a lot to ask that question, and she didn’t want to talk to Afton any more than Afton wanted to talk to her.
“We walked in one direction and got lucky,” Afton replied. The disapproval in Alice’s eyes was amusing, to say the least. What she wore was her business, and while she agreed she might look strange to most, she looked different, and that worked for her. Purple hair and pink colored contacts that matched her clothes and nails tied her look together, and if Alice thought her judgement meant anything to Afton, she could keep on.
“We met Clockmaker and Sunny earlier. They went back to inform the group,” Doru said, his voice cool but friendly. When Alice shot him another withering glare, Afton decided firmly that she liked Doru, if only because he too knew that Alice wasn’t doing herself any favors with that attitude.
“We almost ran into some Mushroomon earlier,” Afton said, her words and gaze directed at Doru. “I’m thinking they have something to do with the mission.”
Alice made a face, probably because she came to some realization she should’ve come to earlier. “What about the Floramon?”
“They’re probably our allies. Data versus virus and all,” Afton said, sparing her a glance. “We should try and find a Floramon to talk to.”
“Talk to the pansies? Count me out,” Monodramon said, sniffing.
“Let’s go,” Afton said, turning towards the woods. “No use in standing around.”
Alice glanced between her and Monodramon, brows furrowed, before shooting her one last look of annoyance. “Fine.”
Dorumon nodded, reaffirming Afton’s view of him as the reasonable half of the pair. “Lead the way.”
Beside Afton, Monodramon looked between them incredulously. When Afton's gaze flicked to him, however, he huffed. “Fine. Let's find some pansies.”
@LuckyBlackCat Ack I completely forgot to tack on the toadstool thing but I blame it on it being late, but thanks, I’ll move him!
@LuckyBlackCat Dropping this off and joining the Discord, lemme know if there's anything to fix
— Moved —
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