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About Loki

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    uwaa~ sugoi ne~<3
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  1. X Sporalysis Redux

    Feel like myself? I could feel a lot of things. The heat of the miso broth sliding down my throat. The fullness in my narrow stomach. The radiant warmth of Daisuke along the shoulder closest to him. I could feel more abstract things too, I supposed. I knew a nagging in the back of my skull every time I felt stationary. I knew longing; to fight more, to study harder, to fix things. To feel myself inside of Daisuke again. To fix him, too, maybe by fixing everything around us. I wanted him to be happy. I wanted to know what happy felt like. I'm not sure I know what it feels like to feel like myself. "Could you be overthinking things?" It felt like a silly question. Daisuke, thinking too much? But... that wasn't true. He'd always been considerate. The problems now were just that much more dwarfing. "We are. We live these lives. What makes us ourselves... is whether or not we're doing what we want to do." The fishcake was soft against my lips, a sort of indirect kiss from Daisuke as I let my mind wander to thoughts of him mixing and steaming the pink-crusted loaves himself. Wasn't this food cart supposed to be his passion? Making noodles was all he talked about when we were children. Had... he gotten this far to find out it wasn't right for him? "Do you think this is what you want to do?" I slipped my hand over his knee, a furtive move hidden under the counter and shielded by our backs from the few couples wandering up and down the streets. "I... can't imagine a world distanced from the Digital World. For better or for worse, humanity is in deep with it now. We're connected to it, intimately. I think my goals have started to merge with it..." My career choices had always been motivated by the Digital World. By my guilt. But, I supposed, Daisuke was the one trying to be normal. "Maybe you'll feel better after sleeping. I think I know a way to tire you out and get your mind off of your trouble..." My fingers tightened and slid up Daisuke's thigh. I suspect he caught my meaning. - "Candmon?" A shudder of light shivered in the corner of the unfurnished room. I let him stay here. He had been my first, after all, and even disappointing as he was, no other digimon had been more satisfying. Nothing really compared to the flawless elegance of Wormmon, or his glorious evolution into Stingmon. I had always supposed that if I could evolve this worthless Candmon, then maybe I would stand on par with the chosen children. On par with Ken. My heart raced at the thought. Of course, once, I did. It started with a code splice. DigiDNA was not well understood, barely even a science when I started. But the fact was, everyone was made of code. Just, humans' code was impossible to edit. Programs you could rewrite. And there remains no reason why I should not be able to alter my Candmon into a Wormmon... the process has merely been more complex than anticipated. It started with a code splice. Digimon who took enough damage would take in loose code; it was part of an instability that led to the release of their data if they were destroyed, or the absorbtion of the data necessary to evolve. I had noticed that most of the time, data was taken in like it was only energy-- processed by the digimon like humans process food, not spawning rice-scales but fueling our natural growth. Code was devoured if it was loose and short like a grain of rice. As Candmon battled in the pits, I was bombarding him with many, many long strips of reprogramming. He morphed in pieces. His narrow, waxy arms became bulbous green legs. He rolled onto the ground as his stand became a pink-horned tail. His scream was muffled when his mouth grew pincers. But it was unstable. I screamed at him. I longed for his full transformation, but my green-torsoed idol was burning up, melting back into wax. The Stegomon fighting him was relentless even on his disfigured body, and I thought for one moment, this would be the last time I had the chance to experiment with my Candmon. His evolution was sudden and bright. What emerged was cloaked in blue, was wielding a golden staff. He was radiant, and powerful. The stegomon was blasted back against the barriers of the ring and keeled over, exhausted almost immediately. His data dissolved into a fine, shimmering mist, and rejoined the digital ether. But he was small. He was ugly. He was no Stingmon. Wizardmon was a step forward, but he had been so close to becoming everything I wanted of him. He was a failure. After that I had a Botamon again for a while; I simply haven't tried on Candmon since. The technique is better perfected on babies who have more versatile code, anyway. "Candmon." I smiled. "I think it's time to stretch your legs. There's going to be a bit of an altercation with those bad boys of mine when they get away from the police. I think our heroes might need a helping hand this time."
  2. X Sporalysis Redux

    The landscape was blank paper. Daisuke was at work, and my homework sat in a well-organized stack at the edge of my desk, polished and already forgotten. Daisuke had left for work one hour ago. I had finished my homework fifteen minutes ago. I couldn't rightly call it a new record, but the focus coming back to me would rival my childhood. My depth of care for the matters of the Digital World could not be sidetracked for anything, it seemed. Daisuke would not slow me down; I recognized that his weak logical mind and emotional way about life were not going to help us forge a plan ahead. That wasn't his strength, wasn't why I involved him in this process. If it consoled him, I would let him have his time alone to breathe. At least, as long as I was still mired in planning. The sprawling white paper was intimidating, though. Unlike my homework, the solution to this problem wasn't clear. How to find someone you didn't know? Someone who pulled the strings that pulled more strings? The whole underground world was designed to lose peons and never even stumble. There was no reason to believe I could startle the trunk of this organization while only blowing at the leaves. But I know there is a leader. And that is more than I knew yesterday. As the sun careened into the evening horizon, the only thought that had crossed my head was a grim one. Was there a way that the Kaiser personality could aid us here? Certainly, when I was an evil pit-fighting overlord, I made myself very obvious in the world. No one would be that stupid, understanding the real-world consequences for crimes now. Not... that there were many. But for someone this evil, they would find a way. I would find a way. Was this psychopath like the Kaiser had been? If I let myself back into the old mindset... would I be able to think of how he was hiding? My stomach roared against my shirt. Had it gotten late? Ah, Daisuke was expecting me for dinner. My plan was... insufficient. The rumblings of human needs were a little too pressing to work through, tonight, and I thought I could catch the closing of Daisuke's noodle stand if I hurried out now. A little past dinnertime I supposed, but better than leaving my love to feel neglected for too long. I needed him, after all. "Hey." Casual. I was a little later than expected, due to high volume on the trains. Go figure... everyone wanted to get home for the night. Daisuke was already hunched over the counters, scrubbing them clean. Behind him, the hot water for steeping the noodles was still steaming. "How was work? Hope I didn't miss our dinner date..." - "We only need one of them." I slapped my palm down on the empty table. "They can't jogress alone." "So what you suggesting? Kidnap 'em?" "So crass. No, that's much too much work. And a temporary solution. Where would we keep them? How would we prevent them from communicating? Organizational agony. And before any of you suggest it, I'd really rather not have a murder of one of our country's celebrities on our hands." I rapped my fingers, and the four lackeys lucky enough to be video chatting in with me tonight shifted uncomfortably behind their screens. What a bunch of idiots; that was probably a mistake, hiring idiots. That was how we'd gotten to this point, with Ichijouji sniffing so close to our scent that his face was metaphorically already up my ass. "This is a simple problem." I continued. "They don't need to be physically removed from each other. We only need to meddle enough to make them want to be apart. Ruin their comradery. That will silence this problem easily." "So... what do you want us to do, M?" "Exactly what you've always done. Operate, execute the plan. We only need one person to be near them for this... someone intelligent, someone they already know. Me."
  3. X Sporalysis Redux

    Minato was a weird one, that was without question. But how weird? I was in a parallel program, but essentially, he was my sempai; The immediate need to show deference was sticking out against all the red flags this kid was waving. Most people who went into the justice system looked and acted as straight laced as... well, as I did. I'd have thought the long years with Daisuke would have warmed me up to less traditional behavior, but it seemed more like I'd just gotten used to Daisuke's quirks. This man was... bold. But, not wholly offensive. He was dealing with Daisuke's intoxicated rambling very well (I was turning all sorts of red for him, but it was unfortunate to be named after a train station. Didn't his parent's know?) and he did have a healthy interest in digital issues. He was composed but not ignorant of the situation. Too often, all I met were people who didn't care, or people who ate, slept, and breathed digimon. Minato's curiosity was scientific, respectful. "It isn't about whether they rot in prison." I finally rejoined the conversation, stepping softly away from the wall. I didn't point out that obviously, these men wouldn't spend a day in any serious shackles. Daisuke didn't need to be reminded, and worse, he might not shut up. I guess I would take it more personally if they'd done that to my face, too... though, in a way, it was my face. Regardless, I didn't not hate these foreign sons of bitches, even before they made Daisuke a little less fuckable. "It's about what we can learn from them before they go right back to repeating their mistakes. Maybe a behavioral psychologist is only concerned with watching them make them..." I shrugged, but continued. "But there's more to this than this one occasion. There's something more wrong with what they've done than just the attack. It's... a deeper kind of psychotic, and these two, they strike me as dumb businessmen." I paused, stared at Minato for a long second. "That's something I think any psychologist would find suspicious." Attacking the digimon nursery and stealing the babies, that wasn't how fighters made a living. Why they'd ever had babies locked up at the pits was still beyond me, but it was only the hint that something was awry. Between Taichi and I, there would be more clues these two idiots would give up. They were too stupid to avoid it. "Daisuke, please take care of yourself while I'm in there." I rested my hand on his shoulder, as I could see on the CCTV that Taichi was packing up his things. He'd probably help Daisuke a little better than I could once he was out here, anyway. Dealing with him loopy in public was making me uncomfortable and tense. And so, it was my turn. Minato bid me away with a lopsided grin, still silent after my additions to the end of his conversation. Against my hip, I reached down into my satchel and came out with a can of coffee, and a small bottle of syrup. On my way down the small corridor into the interrogation room, I popped open the coffee, and topped off what was in the can with a healthy pour of the syrup bottle before hiding it away again. As I strode into the room, I feigned cracking the coffee open once more. "Brought this for you, thirsty?" I set it down. "Christopher is it? Something tells me you're the more in charge, here." He scratched his chin, greyish hairs poking out half a centimeter and rolling with the fat along his jaw. His top row of teeth seemed disproportionately large, and his front two even more so. He tended to keep his upper lip drawn back, eternally in a sneer. "Sorry, no speak Japanese." Really? I'd just watched him prattle on to Taichi for half an hour in that language, however labored it was. Come on, digimon everything was more famous in Japan. Of course he knew the language. But, if he wanted to play his game... "That so? Well, that shouldn't be a problem." Rich Russian rolled off my tongue. It had been a sort of hobby language in junior highschool, after I'd gotten English under my belt. The alphabet had stolen all my focus at the time, so while my grades started to scrape below "exceptional" into "well above average", I got more than just a salting of Russian knowledge. And I could tell I'd rattled the rat. "Let me state again. I brought this for you. Why were you at the digimon nursery?" "This is simple, we only were taking back what you took from us!" "You don't think I'm not suspicious of why you had baby digimon in the first place?" "They are easily indoctrinated..." Christopher took a swig of the coffee I had left out. "It's clearly good business." "Most of your clientele, they're people with their partnered digimon, aren't they? The house takes a pretty cut, doesn't wager any collateral... especially not collateral they raised themselves." We stared at each other for a few long seconds. Christopher was put off-- Taichi had a much more considerate way around his questions. Taichi wouldn't ever think of digimon as collateral. I was realistic though, and I knew what sort of language they used, how the fighters thought about digimon thrown into the pits. It made my stomach acids boil. More than anything, it seemed Christopher was wary of my line of questions. I knew more already than he'd thought I would. The strategy here was a ballsy one-- I gathered most of my information quietly and alone, but now that I had it, Daisuke and I were ready to be one very loud wrecking ball. If we needed to learn more, though, it would be downright impossible. Once these two were let go, the whole underground would know to look out for us. And as he took another swig of the coffee, he seemed to be sweating a little harder as well. Perhaps his stomach was a little upset? I pushed down a satisfied grin. "Well sometimes we needed house digimon." "Baby digimon evolve incredibly slowly compared to the human lifespan. And that's if they're raised naturally... I can't even fathom how slow it would be under abusive care." "Hnm." Christopher snorted, shrugged, and looked down. Almost as if he had something to say he wasn't sharing. "I suppose a group like you might know how those babies age. Had any of them reached in-training?" Christopher took another drink, and I could watch him get paler. A few more sips and he'd probably have drunk enough of that ipecac syrup I'd dumped in there to start vomiting. How much could I extract while he was swimming in it? "Wouldn't know." He shook his head quickly. He answered too quickly. "Because, you know, my partner was in a bit of a rush to leave, but that doesn't mean he didn't see what was going on in there." I tested my luck. Daisuke didn't remember much at all besides being really fucking pissed. Whether or not there were any digimon we failed to rescue... it was probably better that he not remember that. "It wasn't my job, what the digimon were up to." "Really? Then whose job was it? Not Nikolai's, no..." That brute was pretty far from the nurturing type. If he had a second job, it was being the personal meat tenderizer in a steak restaurant. "You would not know him. But we have comrades." Oh did they? "So you hired a nanny for your digimon as well?" "No." "How would you describe the person who looked after them?" "None of your business. We just take our orders." "From who?" "Nobody!" The idiot took a big swig from the coffee can, and turned sideways. I slid back in my chair as orangish porridge-consistency sludge came draining out of my prisoner. I stood, quite promptly, and made for the door. That... was probably enough questions. The room outside was buzzing after that show on the CCTV. Minato was staring at the screen, eyebrows knit, and mouth agape as I walked in. His gaze dropped almost immediately to me. "Maybe he's lactose intolerant." I volunteered, before he could get a word in. His hanging jaw curled up into a little grin, and he seemed to accept it with a shrug. "You're pretty impressive, Ichijouji. I hope you learned something for all that." I hooked my hand onto Daisuke's elbow, and tugged him towards the door. Time to leave. Time to come up with any way to work our way up this invisible chain of command. -- Oh, that sly motherfucker. Ichijouji had definitely learned more than he was letting on. After all... he clearly already knew more than I'd expected from him. How much more? No prior knowledge of a greater organization...? Or, just no proof? I couldn't afford to run with the assumption that Ichijouji didn't know anything. My identity was the only conclusive thing I could hold onto-- he'd never met me before in his life, despite what a tragedy that had been for me. No, it was going to be better to nip this in the bud. Soon.
  4. X Sporalysis Redux

    Daisuke took after the rat-faced bastard, and Paildramon had all of the digimon on lockdown. It wasn't a matter of whether or not Daisuke could catch and detain the rat-face to me. In the back of my mind I knew, I would need to take down the big guy if Daisuke couldn't manage the rat-face. At the front of my mind, I knew I wanted to make the big guy bleed. Our sizes were mismatched. I wasn't looking up to him quite as far as Daisuke would have, but he had a few more inches than I did. He was white, burly, and I wasn't sure we'd even be able to communicate if we did manage to slow him down. The rat-face was a safe bet for information. This man just needed to be stopped. I walked towards Big Guy. The world immediately surrounding us was a little picture of children's hell. Between swirls of fire and piles of rubble, someone calm in the chaos was nearly invisible. Important things moved past-- flying debris, groundcover exploding into dust, whole trees lobbed as projectiles. Frankly, I couldn't describe how I dodged these things myself. Like a keenness came over my whole body, a sense that extended outside my vision. Like the very hairs on my head let me know how and where to move, my mind was fired with some elevated sense of focus. I knew Daisuke by the beating of my heart and let it comfort the rage between my steps. I was just a breath away from Big Guy when he finally noticed I'd closed in. He dropped the chains from his hands, at the end of each a cart and cage carrying several kidnapped digimon babies. He seemed to be the last one left capable of completing whatever task they'd set out to do here, and somewhat determined to get it done. He didn't relent when I landed a fast jab squarely into his nose, or when I took my knee into his groin. Frankly, even though he hobbled and blood started to pour down over his lips, he wasn't slowed down in grabbing me by the throat. "Disgusting children..." Big Guy said... I think. My Russian was a hint rusty. And I struggled for air when my feet left the ground. I swung up my legs and encircled his arm, forcing enough motion that he staggered off balance and fell towards me, grip loosening. I rolled away and over the top of him, knees digging into his sides. I punched squarely at the back of his head, and again into his ear before he rolled over somewhat effortlessly, and crushed me beneath him. "Aargh!" The air rushed out of me. My heart raced as Daisuke's nose shattered some forty feet away. My mind entered a brief freefall, and the brute rolled off of me thinking I'd gone black for good. My next breath sucked in fast and woke me up, like electricity running down lines from my brain to my limbs. I shot up, grabbed for Big Guy's head and rammed it into the ground. Fuck, still plush. He reached behind and grabbed me by the arm, and rolled us both over until I was pinned beneath him. Arms under fists. Legs under knees. I'd been in this position before, but only under Daisuke. This was like being pinned under a snarling bulldog. He drolled as he attempted to think of how to hit me and hold me down all at the same time. The bastard should have choked me when he had the chance, because the longer I stayed pinned the more time I had to think. Panic whirred through me until his grip slightly slackened on my right arm. It cracked out in a strike as if on it's own-- certainly before I had conscious thought of what I was doing. Pure survival. My hand connected with his throat and pounded into that soft flesh. Then, at last, he collapsed. Onto me, again. My eyes rolled, and I shoved up against the pile of meat but... well, I supposed Daisuke would be by to help lift him off when that rat-face was detained. My squirming got me far enough out from under him that at least I could breathe. Paildramon was who finally came to pick up our baggage. He had rat-face already, and just piled the big guy up on top of him. I had Daisuke message Taichi to make sure once we got these guys through a portal, we could get them properly detained. The message back was... not pleasing. Daisuke-kun, I think we can get them detained under cruelty laws, but we don't have the laws on the books to make this a long arrest. Not if these guys are internationals, too... maybe we can buy you a couple days of these guys in federal custody, at least. We'll be ready at the other end. We'll try to guard the Digimon Nursery more closely in the future... I stopped reading. These imbeciles, these maniacs, would be free in a few days' time. I told myself, at least we could question them. We would gain something. We would do some good before releasing these sociopaths back into the wild with a taste for our, and our digimons' blood. I wanted to put them down longer than that. - We were allowed to question them the following day. Daisuke spent a few hours in the hospital when we got back, so there wasn't much day left to do anything besides. We were both quite bandaged up, but at least for me, it was just wrapping around my knuckles. Daisuke's stitches left him looking downright mean, especially with his usual dopey smile erased by the hell of our last 24 hours. I... couldn't say I felt entirely the same, though. My lips were perked enough at the corners for the both of us. Taichi had the two criminals held at a facility not too far from my school, a big precinct in Tokyo. The deposition was in a small room, not unlike the windlowless grey enclosures seen in police TV shows. Taichi was around to ask his questions, but there were four of us in total in attendance. A closed circuit TV fed the deposition room proceedings out to the group of us, and right now, Taichi was the one in the room. The other stood there, arms folded in his lab-coat sleeves, watching the screen intently. "You work here, I assume?" I stepped over to the young man-- about our age, probably. Maybe a hint older. He had long hair that was dyed blue at the ends, and under the professional-looking lab coat were just jeans and a t-shirt. His thick-rimmed glasses capped off that 'eccentric' sort of look. "Oh, oh yeah. Name's Chiba Minato. And I'm glad to meet you at last, Ichijouji." He waved at me. I did not wave back. I'd grown too accustomed to my fame being unfavorable, but that wasn't the only reason this Chiba kid could have wanted to meet me. I played neutral. "I'm a government scientist, if you were wondering. I do a lot of behavioral psychology, biology... but you know, I just love digimon. When I heard this was going on, I knew I wanted to watch." The man had a smug grin and interest stamped across his eyes. I nodded along... and sidestepped behind Daisuke, slowly. He was always the better of us, dealing with strangers...
  5. X Sporalysis Redux

    I could catch fire. I could almost smell the cinders of the hairs at the base of my neck, becoming the kindling for my own spontaneous combustion. As if it were not enough that these were babies, helpless infant digimon with no partners in sight, it had to be familiar faces coming in and robbing the place. But why? There wasn't even proof a lot of these babies would evolve to something powerful-- babies had very versatile evolutionary lines. They were practically the stem cells of the digital world; for very obvious ethical reasons, no one had done the research to know exactly how a digiegg became an eventual digimon... unless of course, you knew the digimon on a more personal level. I'd found my egg, once. So these babies were far from the partners of these men-- and frankly, there was no way they would be able to pick them out if they were. Were they... looking for a particular one? They'd kept so many of them caged up, maybe they were caging all of them until they knew what they would become. But why go through all that effort? Digimon could take a substantial chunk of a human life to age up without a proper connection. Or, at least, that was what the current knowledge on baby digimon suggested. There was no way these goons were taking those babies for their own purposes. The fact that they were taking them at all was reason enough to blow them sky high, but there was, I suspected, something more insidious at work. "Daisuke." I reached, grabbed onto his shoulder. He looked different, goggle-less. They'd always tied his look together, part of the reason I'd adopted them. But there was maybe something else about wearing, or not wearing, the goggles on the team... I steadied myself with him. Stingmon had long since been out striking at the digimon trying to bag up or carry away babies, but the damage was totally uncontrolled and spreading. I could feel the beat frequency between us, that barely-off dissonance in the frequency of our hearts. My hand clamped on his shoulder, I started squeezing to the feel of his pulse, begging of my body to calm down, to focus. Resolve came sharply to me, with the ease of sliding a new lens into an optometrist's tool. The battle slowed, and I watched it fall out before me like a chess master watches over a game. Or twelve simultaneous games. I hadn't felt this good in years. "Now, Daisuke!" My digivice flared, blue and green swelling to life from its dark monochrome. Stingmon and XV-mon abandoned their current fights in a blinding blaze, and their battle-clad body dove out from that light with a devastating swing. Dark Tyrannomon was knocked to the side, forced to let go of a metal cage loaded up with babies that he'd been carrying away. Gazimon and Agumon were blasted back, crumpling into trees some distance from the nursery-turned battleground. Uncaptured babies and their Elecmon in charge started desperately evacuating the carnage. "We have to get them out of this area... and we have to detain them." I urged Daisuke, though as Paildramon rained fire down on rat-face and friend, I could tell he had the same train of thought as I did. Possibly, we had it for different reasons. Daisuke would help me stop these men, take them down, bring them to justice. I would stop them, period... if I didn't want what information they had. They had to be alive at the end of this fight. Justice for these idiots was a side effect; I could leave it to Daisuke to open up their eyes. This was not the world's most interactive video game. Frustrating was too gentle of a word for me, to describe how so many people could fall into the same trap as I did-- I, a sick child. The dark spore had never even touched these goons. "Don't be afraid to hurt them, Paildramon, but don't go too far!" I dropped my hand from Daisuke's shoulder. If we never touched them, we didn't have the strength to bring them with us. We'd never asked Wormmon or V-mon to fight a human enemy before, though. The targets were small, fragile. The game of loss was permanent. We'd never asked Paildramon to think of humans as mortals before. We aged, and in that aging ignored what it would mean when that aging stopped. We were arming an immortal weapon that did not understand the concept of human death. "Be careful."
  6. X Sporalysis Redux

    "Daisuke..." Ah, to be a team. How often could I forget that my load was lighter because Daisuke had been carrying the other half of it? Was I petty enough to think he was insurmountable, that taking in my pain couldn't put any burden on him? I suppose I did, from time to time. I was jealous of his outward fire, his optimism and his easy confidence. Jealous that no matter how much everyone projected some brilliant genius on to me, I never felt as good as Daisuke looked all the time. Of course he'd been struggling with me, of course... it wasn't his guilt, but his love of me that dragged him into the dark. I was being selfish. Even now, he was always looking out for me. "Just... it's late. Let's go home." My nose was starting to chill and I hadn't brought a jacket. My pants had started soaking in at the rear from the dewy evening grass. "When this started, all I wanted to feel like was that I could be useful without you there. I felt like you'd been my crutch for so long, and you were... infallible. Probably even better off without me. Who needs someone so soft, so depressed all the time. I wanted a thicker skin. And now that I've actually found something worth bettering myself for, I realize I never should have excluded you. It weakens us both... but maybe I did need a reality check that you were just as human as I am." I smiled gently, and as I stood I reached down for Daisuke's hand. "Just don't abandon me either, okay?" How could I have forgotten so much about Daisuke? We really had been working too much. I laced my fingers in with his and let the trains take us back home just a couple hours before daybreak. It was back to our daily lives for all of 24 hours before alarm bells were ringing. Quite literally, Elecmon had appeared on the computer monitor on the desk in our bedroom, and was smashing on cymbals to get our attention. It was just a scratch past 4:30am, I was naked, and Daisuke, though in boxers, had screamed and pulled the blankets up to his chest. "Wh...?" "Quickly! Th-the primary village! They're taking the babies!" Elecmon pounded at the other side of the screen. "I need someone to come now!" Panic purged the room of all the drowsiness. Wormmon and V-mon had been curled up at the foot of the bed, and they were already on their feet and at the computer. I neglected modesty long enough to bound across the room to the desk, seizing my D-3. Daisuke had his ass in the air, digging for his through the shorts he'd discarded at the bedside. "Let's go Motomiya!" "Hurry, Ken!" Wormmon wriggled up to the monitor and waved his forelegs. I held my D-3 to the screen and let a radiant light envelope the four of us, yielding way to a hell on digital earth. Legions of strong, even armor-clad, digimon were terrorizing the hatched babies with flaming attacks, spiked clubs and metal tails. Patches of blanketed earth were burning, and surrounding terrain was being trampled into the digital dust by big, rough Stegomon and DarkTyrannomon. It wasn't the wild digimon that were thieving the babies though-- that was exclusively a band of big, dumb apes like those running the fighting pits the other day.
  7. X Sporalysis Redux

    The night was tepid. Damp. Sitting outside felt like being back in the stillness of the womb. I kept my knees to my chest, breeding heat within myself and letting it slowly radiate into the quiet night. Daisuke's words played like a broken record in my head, gnawing into my thoughts like acid worked the calcium out of bone. The longer they repeated, the more it seemed like I couldn't have remembered them properly. The venom behind the words, the way that again echoed in increasing volume. I grappled with my arms until my fingers were white and blood rushed up to meet my nails. Somehow in a soft cotton polo, I felt even weaker than I was. My shoulders longed for the heavy fabric of my Digital World coat, my arms for the snug fit of the belts around them there. I felt like it had been a while since I really considered how my manner of dress made me feel from day to day. It was hours before Daisuke came for me. I remained surprised that he came for me at all, that he didn't let dawn break and send me shuffling home to grab my school work so that I might salvage the rest of this week. To be fair, before I saw Daisuke running through the small park towards me, I wasn't sure that I would have gone home even for that. There was a thick pain still resting at the front of my chest, and as it throbbed I considered not talking to Daisuke and making another run for it. But where would I even go this time? Straight to hell? "I know what fear is like, Motomiya." I spoke softly, sighed between words and phrases. Daisuke was so close, and I wanted to both hug him and entangle our bodies here forever in this grass... and also to hit him one more time, get up, and leave. "If this is what I get for my honesty, I'm not so sure I will be in the future. But I never left you behind." I closed my eyes, dropped my head into the nest made between my knees and my folded arms. I wanted to forgive Daisuke... it just didn't feel right. It was like a comforting hand on my shoulder, but my shoulder was stinging and mad from a wound beneath. "I wish you knew what it felt like. To live with things you'd done... done while almost in a dream. I can't look back and ever see myself in the Kaiser. I wish you knew what it was like, to live in here." I tapped my head, rolled it to the side to look at Daisuke. I'd never felt such a chasm between myself and someone so close. --- "Wrecked?" My voice was hoarse. One entire area, blown just about to smithereens by a massive digimon that had evolved inside. The reports coming in up the network were varied-- it had been an Agumon, no, a V-mon. It had digivolved once, twice, maybe three times? Most people inside had some minor injury to speak of, and I was beginning to suspect it was all to their heads. The most potent of the rumors, though, was exactly the identity of the kid who was signed up to fight when this all happened to my arena. One Motomiya Daisuke... and hadn't everybody heard that name before. "Can we move some of the specimens to a deeper security lab?" Calmly, I assessed the damages. The worst was the babies we'd lost-- I'd made all sorts of little edits to their code, and was waiting to see if I could change their species entirely, or just make them more vicious, more powerful. They were a controlled experiment... not data I was keen on losing. Of course, I bet I knew where I could find them again. Only one place took care of babies in the Digital World... and I could pay them a little visit. Soon.
  8. X Sporalysis Redux

    Looking at Minnomon in the Village of Beginnings was never an easy sight for me. It had grown more numb over the years, since plucking him out of his basket as Leafmon, since begging his forgiveness to start again. It reminded me of better thoughts now, of Leafmon reaffirming my crest, of our reunion. But there was never not going to be a sore place in my heart from the day my rage and negligence killed Wormmon. I could tell Daisuke was holding his tongue until our partners drifted off. It was pretty obvious, actually-- tight lips, red cheeks, a bloodshot look in his eyes. It had been a long time since I'd been on the receiving end of a look like that. My chest undulated, beating with anxiety for Daisuke's response, and just a touch of arousal at seeing him so passionate. No... maybe he didn't like that he got it, maybe he wished he hadn't, but he saw through my eyes for once and was appropriately enraged. I was not quite steeled for the venom he could spit, though. "I didn't know-- Didn't mean to let it out of hand--" I tried interrupting Daisuke with answers, until one thing he said shut me down. Again. What? I coughed as he rammed the air out of my chest, strands of my hair deviating from their perfect alignment. Little spears drifted into my sight between my sharpened eyes, and Daisuke's rage. Was that a joke? Daisuke looked downright feral, his tongue lashing as I stared down into him. Did he think I wasn't serious? He was the one who wasn't taking a damn thing seriously until his pretty little worldview got a slap across the face. Oh, not everything was sunny beaches anymore? Better blame Ken, scion of all things miserable to ever happen to the digital world. "Eat shit, Motomiya." I spat back at him, heaving him away from me with strength I never knew I possessed. My hands curled into fists, and all at once my eyes burned up with tears. I wasn't sure if I ought to punch him or sob on him, and I couldn't make the choice. "Why is this about you, still? You think I threw you to the lions just to show you a party trick? Digimon are spending their entire lives being tortured and I'm trying to stop this. But no, Ichijouji is still the most evil man in the Digital World! I never meant for you to get hurt, but you're acting like you've never risked it all to save this world yourself." I flinched, and then hauled my palm across his face. The reddening smack of flesh on flesh left my right hand reeling, and, well, did more damage to Daisuke than I meant. Right across his injured cheek, leaving him reeling down into the pillowy ground with an unceremonious bounce. My heart raced. I should apologize. My throat closed up and tears came, rolling down my cheeks and burning at a thousand degrees. He deserved it. No. Not that much. But he did deserve something. My mind reeled. My heart felt like it would come tearing out of my chest like a boulder from a trap. How could Daisuke say that? He deserved it. Maybe. "If you think he's in such incapable hands, just... take him." I trembled. I looked at Minnomon, too sweetly asleep against chibimon to disturb. I ran. At some blistering speed, I let my legs carry me far beyond wherever Daisuke could catch, and to a portal back to our real, already ruined world. Fuck Daisuke. He'd know where to find me when he needed to. I wasn't going home today.
  9. X Sporalysis Redux

    Good to know that the lumbering brute they had on guard duty was only gifted in the upper half of his body. I dashed, gaining such an immediate lead on the gigantor that I was free to pivot around and look back briefly. He was thundering, his steps too heavy and solid to carry him anywhere very fast. His legs were shivering under the weight of his upper body, wildly undersized for his massive frame. And very quickly, he was becoming a tomato shade of red. "Oh, threatening." I called back to him, a grin tugging into my cheek like it had been pulled by a fishing line. He roared after me like a wild beast, and I cut around tree to see how far he'd chase me. He was still there, still rumbling along as I sapped his momentum with agile evades. He would've made a pathetic soccer player. By now I could hear the raucous mess Paildramon was whipping up inside. Ripping the pits out from the inside like an alien bursting out of their intestines. I could swell with pride, but not too far off was the chaotic panic coming from my partner. It was no daisy wooded chase in there, and there was a lot more than one ugly meathead chasing down Daisuke. My follow had just tripped himself on a tree root, so I sprung myself back towards the door. It clapped on its hinges, the whole building rattling like an earthquake coming through. I waited. I heard the muscle-man start to get up again. Paildramon was getting closer. The brute was getting closer. Daisuke was getting closer. The brute's breathing was audible now. Daisuke burst through the door with a shatter of splinters and a confetti of baby digimon. I caught him in my arms, lowered us both down to the ground. Paildramon rended the doorway into a fine mist of dirt, stone, and plant, exploding the full size of his frame through. Before I even had to utter a word, our fusion of partners had swept away the lumbering brute like he was just a ragdoll. Which is what he became, sprawled out against the forest floor, concussed by the tree he'd bounced off. "Let's get out of here, Paildramon!" I looked up at him at last. Magnificently tall, shining in his black armor... how long had it been since I'd looked into those eyes shared by our dearest friends? The warmth I felt as Paildramon scooped us into his arms was so welcoming, it was almost scalding. I helped distribute Daisuke's refugees between our arms. We were up and away so fast that soon the branches broke around us, piercing a hole in the dark canopy. Only out in the natural daylight again could I relax, and consequently, take a look at Daisuke's face. If not for those digimon in his arms, I promise you I would be sporting a black eye. "...But you see what I'm saying now, don't you?" I cocked my head forward, then winced. Maybe not the best thing to say first, Daisuke just having escaped the jaws of death. "I... I'm really glad you aren't hurt." At least... not too much. If I thought I was going to get punched out by Daisuke, it wouldn't even look half as bad as the thick blue and maroon schmear that had sunk in under Daisuke's left eye. It shot down along his nose like a lightningbolt, and swept up into his brow. A crusty, blood-caked scab ran along the line of Daisuke's cheekbone. "You... shouldn't look in a mirror today, Motomiya."
  10. X Sporalysis Redux

    There... there. Wormmon was cradled in my arms. I paced the wall, everywhere they moved Daisuke, I moved along with him. Every punch they rolled his body with, every breath they sucked out of him I felt as if it landed in my own limbs. I paced. His heart rushed. Wormmon was quiet. I paced. He was there. There. "Thank you, Wormmon." I whispered do him, my lips nuzzled into the symbol emblazoned on his head. "I think he understands now." A crashing sound came down in the bushes a short ways away. Turns out this shithole did have some outside patrol, however dumb and sloppy drunk they were. Still, at physically twice my size, it would be a little much to call him ineffective. With the sparest shreds of my attention, my legs tensed and relaxed again. Mmm... which of us was faster? "Go, Wormmon. I'll be fine." I loosened my grip on him, and he nodded warily back to me. The burly man had broken into a sprint, and I was standing right here, heart in heart with Daisuke. Hell, like I wouldn't mind losing a few teeth for him. How romantic. He was ready. Like sparklers erupting within my arms, Wormmon turned to a ball of light and radiated out from me. Much as I had anticipated, the digivolving process was no stickler for physical boundaries. I watched him dissipate into wisps through the darkened stone, my chest swelling as my spirit resonated with the emerging Paildramon. "Oi, kid!" I unleashed Paildramon inside, and my feet cut into the ground outside. All on you now, Motomiya.
  11. X Sporalysis Redux

    I swallowed hard as Daisuke gave me that last glowering look as he passed the threshold. I couldn't have planned this better... but, that was because I hadn't planned it. I gave a quick glance down at Wormmon, and the worry was a tangible spark between our eyes. Shit. I knew I couldn't follow him in, and no one gave any indication I was wrong. I'd only ever broken into one fighting pit before, and I'd learned a few things: Dinosaur-type digimon were a big favorite; Agumon, V-mon, Guillomon... as many as could be found would be in the pits. Though Andromon and other mech types were also good winners, they were rarer as partners, and as aged digimon in the wild. Most of all, many were too smart to enslave. Secondly, I'd learned that the pits did not appreciate bystanders, and thirdly, that I was a terrible actor. I couldn't even put on the airs of someone willing to throw Wormmon into the ring. Despite, or maybe because of, the fact I'd invented digimon fighting pits. Rather than get my ass handed to me (a second time) on an attempt to break in after Daisuke, I immediately dashed around the side of the building. Surely, Daisuke was going to be fine alone without me? He'd been the leader of his band of misfits-- eventually our band of misfits. He could take this one by himself? It wasn't a great risk. XV-mon was strong, so were Flamedramon and Raidramon and hell, if he could ever get Magnamon again... But they were all pretty poor in comparison to Paildramon, and especially Imperialdramon. If he needed to get out, that was our most sure-fire way. And I wasn't about to throw Daisuke to the dogs to prove my point. This building though... there were absolutely no windows, let alone a side door. If a fire caught in there, they were fucked. There probably weren't fires, though, as there wasn't even so much as a chimney to sneak into up on top. I slowed down, started to sidle along the ivy-covered wall. Daisuke was in there... how far away could I feel him? His heartbeat, distant and irregular to mine... it resonated with me if he was out in the kitchen as I folded clothes in the bedroom. I could find him in the park after he'd gotten away from me playing fetch with V-mon and a big puppy. And maybe... I could feel him now. He was in there. The pounding sound, low and shallow in my skin. I could feel him. I looked at Wormmon. "How far away... do you think you can jogress from?"
  12. X Sporalysis Redux

    "That is what I'm saying." I felt my frustration heave up again, thick as nausea in the back of my throat. I tried telling myself how much I loved Daisuke's optimistic outlook about the world. Tried to tell myself how many times that very fire in him had lit my way in the past. I knew I was dangerous to myself without him; just right now, I felt ready to grab him by the back of the head and show him each and every violation of his precious rules that riddled humanity across the digital domain. "It's not just a few bad eggs. Rules aren't helping. I... I know you're right, about Owikawa... about me... but didn't we still need to be stopped?" My hands cupped over Daisuke's, my fingers pressing down on his hands and keeping our bond tight. "I'm kind. You're courageous, you're a great friend. Some people... don't let their crest show through." I shook my head, my hair reaching a new level of disheveled. I pushed my forehead into Daisuke's, letting the pressure between us equalize. Could he feel me pushing him? I wasn't sure where I was trying to push; into him, or push him away... or just push him to look. Push us together until we jogressed into one body, until we understood each other because we couldn't afford not to. "I will show you. I will." Our time here was starting to run low. I had classes to attend. Daisuke had work to get back to. It was like trying to hold on to the sand slipping through an hourglass. I stood, taking Daisuke by the hands and pulling him to his feet. We'd mostly dried off-- enough to get our pants back on, and I threw my jacket on on top of that. My fingers sorted my hair back to its usual place, and despite my urges to let our partners keep snuggling, I roused them to be our ride. What would I do with the time we had left? Daisuke clearly wasn't nearly as burdened by the over-development of the world... fair enough. The world was just as burdened by progress as the real one, and plenty of people glossed over it, or at least, too it as inevitable. We did get a lot of cool things out of what we could only beg was nobody's exploitation. So what would really show him? We glided over the forest almost aimlessly, Stingmon leading the way. As the bushy wind-beating treetops started to come up to meet my feet, it seemed Stingmon had something he'd had in mind for this. I smiled. My partner. As the trees made way for us, it seemed we'd descended into a misleadingly deep wood. The treetops did not yield to sight of the ground, just a dark, sparsely-lit mosaic of branches. We wove down, threading through narrow polygons and sunk down further until mossy stones came into view down below. The low grasses were trampled by the rocks in a messy path, and quiet lanterns swung along alternating sides. We dismounted and Wormmon took the lead again, scuttling along until a dense thicket revealed a door that ivy vines had been knocked away from. In fact, the thicket seemed to be less foliage and more plants that had suckled onto the side of a wide, low concrete building. "Hey, you kid. You can't be fighting with that." A buttery Russian accent shocked Daisuke and I into spinning around. A big man, with an Agumon on a thick leather leash, was chewing tobacco as he stared us down. I didn't see any immediate recognition of us-- frankly, this guy hardly seemed like he cared to be literate, let alone really read. He had that thick muscle-for-brains kind of attitude. "A Wormmon? Might as well stomp it little guts out here." He barked a laugh, then nodded to V-mon and gave Daisuke a reasonable regarding look-- from muscles, to muscles. "I would like to see that, though. Da, follow." Brushing me away, he tried to take Daisuke by the shoulder and lead him beyond the mossy door. Against my tensed muscles I gave him an upward nod. Go. See things. I knew now that Wormmon and I had been here before-- and I knew well what was inside. An establishment that wasn't going to be so easy to unravel... and a popular underground sporting ring. Digimon fighting pits.
  13. X Sporalysis Redux

    Daisuke was precious. Beautiful and optimistic, like a vivid flower growing in the path of a lava flow. There was only to watch it glimmer in its last moments before reality took hold, or to save it's innocent beauty a little while longer at the cost of its life. I would not pluck Daisuke; every moment I spent withholding the truth about what I saw destroying the Digital World was killing us slowly, a flower drying in a vase. Only Daisuke thought we were more intimately coupled, for all this. I... had thought it would help. I just couldn't stand knowing what was beyond those inner islands, what was wrecking the continent and everywhere the humans could touch, and having Daisuke content to blissfully pretend things were normal. After all, some had questioned why I liked Daisuke so much, despite his stupidity-- I never saw Daisuke as stupid. But covering one's eyes and ears like this was. "I can't pretend, Daisuke." I rested a hand along the nape of his neck, let myself nuzzle into him and return a few kisses. I didn't want him to draw away, I just... struggled to find a gentle way of peeling open his eyes. "Digimon don't change everyone. Or at least, not for the better." My eyes fell onto Wormmon, and all that unfolded before me was the bloody path I'd walked everyone down because of him. It wasn't Wormmon's fault-- it was barely mine-- but without his existence, how would I have come to the digital world? Come to have been infected with the spore in the first place? "Look at all Owikawa did just to get one. And he didn't survive... would he even be happy with the world he permitted?" Despite my best efforts, a frustrated sigh slipped through. Digimon weren't the problem. Humans were the problem, and I would know, I was the original one. "When I was young... Osamu wanted pets, so badly. And of course, we couldn't keep a dog or cat, but he was Osamu, so, my parents got him fish. A big, brilliant angelfish." Speaking ill of the dead never brought me much comfort. It felt too relevant to not say. "He kept it high up on his desk where I couldn't reach the tank to feed the fish. I could watch it though, with the tank lights making his scales shine. A fish is a far cry from a digimon but... he was still beautiful, still alive. And Osamu would forget to feed him. You could tell how lethargic the fish would get by the end of the day, I could feel it stare out of the tank and ask for me. And my parents would tell me, 'leave Osamu's fish alone, it's his present.' But it was starving and it died in a matter of months." I paused only briefly, to swallow, to slow down. "When that digivice came... why wasn't it for Osamu? He was older, he was smarter, but his digivice never came. Why do we have crests, Dai? Why were there ever chosen if we could always just open the floodgates? Was it... was it just stupid human envy that made Owikawa demand everyone get a partner? Some people just aren't good to their digimon, Daisuke, I swear I see it everywhere. Just let me show you."
  14. X Sporalysis Redux

    Riding the waves and trying to fuck at the same time, it seemed I ended up getting frustrated about how hard it was to come too. I was deeply aroused inside Daisuke, aching and pulsing and needing it more with every passing second. For all my control, even I couldn't withstand something so primal, so far from my nobler mind, forever. I licked the saltwater from Daisuke's neck and pushed in deep, the ticklish welling agony sparking along my dick with each thrust. Damn this fiery partner of mine seducing me into such deep water... I was close. So close. A few strokes more, ah... I heaved in a breath and sealed my mouth over Daisuke's. I let floatation become a secondary concern, and our bodies washed below the waves as I took him with both my hands. The water resisted me and again I overpowered it, pounding once, twice, and at last, to bubbling, gasping climax deep within my goggle-headed love. I grabbed him under the arm as I kicked for the surface-- well aware I'd just nearly drowned him for an orgasm. "Can you breath, Motomiya?" It almost seemed like an afterthought, the way I took him by the waist and started to stroke at his cock. Did you come, Motomiya? I cared about that too. I was in a domineering mood, not to be conflated with cruel. I could never be cruel to my child of miracles. I swept soft kisses across his forehead, moved my controlling hand from his waist to the fluff of hair at the back of his head. Cruel was not in my nature. As a telltale twitching in my fist signified Daisuke's final, potent climax (oh, I had denied him one last night after all-- and it looked to have built up), I offered him a piggyback ride to shore. Precious, half-drowned and recovering from his little death, he wasn't putting up much of a fight at getting a tow. To be fair, it wasn't the first time I'd hauled Daisuke back home. Even back in high school, Daisuke would push himself too hard if he was practicing against me on the soccer field. The amount of work he put in to be competitive left him positively crippled on the field... but how could I not respect that? I'd heave him up against my shoulders and he'd nap until I dropped him off at his mom's. Drying off against the sand, Wormmon and V-mon had taken to their own little water game. Wormmon couldn't swim, so he was riding around on V-mon's head and shoulders while his blue digi-partner pretended to be a boat. I tossed a bottle of water towards Daisuke, knowing he'd understand I wanted him to drink it. "I miss when it was just us in the Digital World."
  15. X Sporalysis Redux

    Ah, the chase was back on. Daisuke was a slippery little fish-- and tricky enough too. I hadn't anticipated him doing much besides whining and begging when I stopped touching him, but this, this was better. I felt as if all the veins in my body had rerouted to my groin, or perhaps my heart had just relocated down there. If I'd ever suspected mixing cat and mouse with sex would eject my overtaxed, overcalculating mind and leave me in some competitive euphoria, I would have never been so passive. To become suddenly aware of a change it oneself is jarring. It gave Daisuke a momentary lead, it left me taking an extra breath of air where I should have been deep below, seeking Daisuke's lure. I pressed other thoughts away, stared at the tent Daisuke was pitching and how his boxers clung to everything underwater. I pushed my muscles and they gifted me the speed to shoot out after my courageous partner. Courage was right... there was no use trying to escape me. Then again, I'd be foolish to think he didn't want to be caught. He was taking to taking it a little better than I anticipated. I reached out, sliding forward through the water until my long fingers closed around Daisuke's leg just before a kick. He nearly bucked me off again, but my grip was sure; I had him by the ankle, and then climbed up his thigh, taking both sides of his hips and pressing them forward against my own. Our modest swimwear was not enough to disguise our shared arousal. "Tsk, caught you again. What sort of challenge is that, Motomiya?" I thrust my hips against his again, and rolled them steadily together, like the eb and flow of the waves around us. "In that case, you should wrap your legs around my waist." My voice was firm, as if I was giving an order I'd given a hundred times before-- clean the bedroom, Daisuke. Do the dishes, Daisuke. Fuck me like you mean it, Daisuke. As he obeyed, I slipped the waistband of his boxers down his legs and left them pinned between us. Mine came down just enough to let out my hardened cock, which was already poised and pressing against Daisuke's greedy hole. Third time and already a slut for it? Why had I been bottom for so long...? I looked down into Daisuke's eyes, watching them burn up at me wide with all his desires. Somehow, I felt closer to him, as if I understood how he could have always been so hungry and animalistic about sex. I pressed his head back with a kiss, and pressed his hips down onto me. Slowly I pressed him open, ever so slowly, teasing each centimeter past the entrance. One hand I kept on the round of his ass, and the other slipped between us, gently massaging the tip of Daisuke's abused (by me) erection. "How is that, Motomiya? Do you want more?" Almost certainly, I knew how he worked. Daisuke would come in seconds if left by himself to bring it on. But he wasn't getting more out of me... not until I felt like it. Maybe it would persuade me to watch him beg?