|
|
Post by sangloupmon on Oct 29, 2011 9:22:42 GMT -5
The dark starry night sky turned ablaze, as the sun approached the horizon, promising yet another morning to the digital world. Along the outskirts of the misty trees, a small camp was erected, with a few tents and a bonfire lit at it's heart. Within the camp, a large group of digimon, mostly Goblimon and Commandramon, hung around, restless and cold from the chilly air coming in from the mist.
Anticipation was in the air, and many of the digimon had their attentions outside the camp as they chattered amongst each other. Their leader had set out on a small raid of some shack further into the trees. An easy job, just some old digimon and one infant digimon had been revealed with the scout's report. Many were curious as to know what they'd bring back.
Many were curious, but Strabimon didn't share the feeling. All that particularly mattered to him was that he wasn't chosen for the raiding party, and was left in camp. To await their leader's successful return. He wasn't particularly bitter about it, but disappointment shot through him like ice. He was a skilled fighter, and he liked having the chance to fight against a real target.
Instead, Strabimon was deeper into the trees away from the camp, his targets being the trees around him. Light gleamed with every scratch and kick he aimed at them. It wasn't such an annoyance in normal conditions, but the mist made his attack's blinding quality even more potent, though it only proved counter intuitive for him as it render him blind for the moment of the attack.
Strabimon kept going in spite of it though. Simply growling at every miss, he just kept going. By the time he ceased his personal training time the surrounding trees were carved with deep scars. The wolf may have continued on, but he could hear the brigade getting excited. Heading back to camp, Strabimon arrived to see his leader and his squad carrying back quite a bit of loot, including one piece he certainly wasn't expecting, gripped in their leaders arms.
A Viximon.
|
|
|
|
Post by observer on Oct 29, 2011 13:11:03 GMT -5
For the bandit leader, Musyamon, it was, indeed, a minor fortunate encounter. A random digimon with a child and a bag of belongings going alone down the road. Such a sap. He didn't even pull out much of a fight, before being cut in half and absorbed... Fate of the weaklings, nothing more, non the less. Not that he have anything valuable anyhow... Only two things were the sword, which, he admitted, was mighty well-made, and ... the child the dead man carried...
The viximon as annoying, it screamed and bit and cried and said mean words... Feisty, she was. He liked that. It meant she had some backbone, even so small. Half of the reason he took her with him instead of putting her to the blade. The bandit leader had a practice of taking children into his gang and growing them into full-fledged raiders, loyal to him and him only. Viximon would join his ranks of loyal followers - he knew her kind can evolve into powerful, skillful digimon. He would have to break her, however... and meld her into a weapon and a tool for himself...
The fox in his hands was badly bruised, and knocked out cold. Musyamon had short temper for her shenanigans, and one strong punch sent her into unconscious delirium. Which once more showed that what he did by sparing her he did not because of kindness of his heart. He had no heart. At all. He was the embodiment of cruelty... And nobody dared thinking otherwise...
- Get your asses back to your posts before I impale them on spikes ya gawkers! - a raspy yelp came out that scared most of the peeps away from the place where the musyamon dropped his loot and the child, heavy things falling on top of her in the process. She let out a mild groan of pain from that, but the gang leader cared naught. He was more interested in ... the sword. Holding it in his hands, he admired the quality work of the jagged blade... The sheen on it's curve... the sharpness...
- How did the old hoot get it I wonder... Bah. Hey! You there, pest! Come over here! - he barked out, making a jest for the strabimon to approach. When he did, he nodded to the pile of stuff and the small digimon, and said:
- Bring these back to our loot stash. And watch for the pest. She wakes up, let me know. - he said and went away. There, no more said. Nothing. He didn't care, simply didn't care. And the child was really hurt from having her face punched in from his heavy fist too...
|
|
|
|
Post by sangloupmon on Oct 29, 2011 14:19:58 GMT -5
A bag of loot, a young digimon, and quite a brilliant sword, though as if their leader needed another. He was quite lethal with his own blades, though death rarely came to his enemies soon enough. Strabimon paid little more attention to the sword though, his gaze falling on the Viximon instead, who ended up underneath the bag of loot.
There was only one reason Musyamon would bring a young digimon back alive. To be recruited into their ranks, as what happened to him as a little Dorimon. He on the otherhand, never required this sort of brutality, he joined of his own will and was compliant with the orders given to him. This Viximon must have tried to resist... What a shame, it would only become harder from here if that continued.
"Sir yes sir!" Strabimon barked as he quickly approached the leader, ignoring the insult. He quickly pulled the loot bag over his shoulder, then carefully picking up the Viximon, trying not to prick her with his claws, he headed for the tent where they had their loot stashed.
Dropping the bag among the pile of loot, he found a place to sit down with the Viximon. Strabimon couldn't recall feeling sorry for anyone in his life, but sitting there with the yellow fluff ball cradled in his arms, he couldn't help but feel sorry for the young thing. He could only guess it was because he understood to an extent how tough this transition would be for her.
He ran his knuckles gently over the Viximon's back. He tilted his head over to see his face, frowning at the clear injury. Musyamon was brutally cruel, and Strabimon himself despised that. He himself might not have been the most moral digimon in the world, but at least he had limits. There was no need to cause such harm to such a young digimon.
|
|
|
|
Post by observer on Oct 29, 2011 14:51:24 GMT -5
Viximon's slumber was very, very uneasy, if it could be even called a slumber. Her brain was shaken after that vicious punch, so she was not sleeping. The poor little digimon was out cold, and as her mind tried to regain lost connection to her body, she got to see... Visions. Terrible, terrible ones... Last moments before things went dark... Dad facing a bunch of bandits... Fighting the raider leader... it being a tie... And then struck in the back by one of his goons... slashed.... killed, and then... absorbed...
A visible shudder came through her body as she was forced to see the horrible moment again and again... Slowly, as if her brain wanted to torture her, revoking the memory of what happened just... Well, a couple of hours ago. She was hiding in the bush, but when she saw what happened... she couldn't stay there, she jumped out, she tried to fight... and with that made things worse for herself... Who was she? Just some tiny in-training. She wouldn't cause a scratch on the evil ronin's armor, no mater how hard she would have tried...
As she slowly regained sense and consciousness, she felt herself ... in someone 's hands. Were they dad's hands? No, they were foreign, unknown hands... They captured her, she figured... Viximon was a smart girl. But ... the crushing feeling of grief then fell on her. Her world was .. destroyed, crushed, her only person in the world, killed, and, well ... eaten. There was no better word for it. He was gone. Forever. No digitama in the village of Beginnings, no returning for her and killing all these bastards... Nothing... She was done for... Finished...
The tiny fox didn't open her eyes. She didn't want to face this evil, cruel reality that was just outside her eyelids. She just... cried. And sobbed, tears falling down her cheeks, not paying attention to the person who carried her. They could tell her shut up, kick her, harm her, even kill her. She ... she didn't care right now. Just cried. Cried a lot... But tears won't bring the past back, would they?
|
|
|
|
Post by sangloupmon on Oct 29, 2011 15:41:23 GMT -5
For a moment, Strabimon wondered if she would even wake up, or if she was just going to slowly die in his arms from her wounds. If she burst into data here, what could he do? Of course Musyamon would have expected him to call for him immediately so he could absorb her. The brigade kills and absorbs data all the time. I kill and absorb data all the time. Why does it matter? The Strabimon thought. Why was his conscience choosing now to act up?
Fortunately, as fortunate as this situation could be at least, it didn't quite appear like she was dying. She didn't open her eyes, but her cries were apparent. Strabimon immediately put his hand over the Viximon's mouth, stifling the sounds of her sobs. "Hush." He muttered, as softly as he could muster. "I'm supposed to alert our leader when you awaken. You should rest as much as you can." He explained grimly.
The Strabimon couldn't offer the Viximon any consolation. No, to say everything would be alright would be a flat out lie, and lying was not something he was good at. All he could do right now was sit there, stroking the Viximon's back absentmindedly as he tried to sort through what he was taught to feel, and what his long dormant conscience was trying to get through to him. He supposed there was just something about the young digimon that struck a chord with him, maybe because he could albeit vaguely relate to this situation. He was here more or less willingly, but he always imagined what they'd do to him if he disobeyed, and what happened to Viximon wasn't really that far off.
Viximon continuing to 'sleep' would be good reason for him not to call their leader for quite a while, though they couldn't hold that ruse forever. Musyamon would lose his patience quickly if they dragged this on for too long. He just hoped she'd try to stay quiet, he would get punished if Musyamon caught her awake without Strabimon alerting him to it.
|
|
|
|
Post by observer on Oct 31, 2011 11:40:32 GMT -5
Viximon's cries were muffled with this large paw being put over her mouth. She wanted to bite it at one moment, but then ... decided not to. This raider... he wasn't mean to her, but he sure would be if she bit him. And then he would beat her up with those big legs and sharp claws, and say something bad to her and leave her lying in dirt like that. Surely!
She curled up in a tiny little ball and decided to sit very quietly so the big bossman would come to her and hurt her anymore. She closed her eyes and wept quietly, her tears moistening the part of Strabimon's lap where she lied. She cried a lot and abundantly, children always shed more tears than adults did, hardships and tragedy always hit them hardest... But sleep? No, she couldn't...
She remember all good things and how she used to live just before. They were peaceful travelers, they never even had much to steal... Why did it have to be this way? Wasn't there any bigger, more worthy prey was these ... these ravagers? But... this is why they were ravagers... Cowardly ones, who weren't afraid only when having advantage in strength or numbers... Bastards... Bastards all...
- Daddy... daddy *sniff* I'm scared... - she whimpered quietly, her cry and her plea almost a whisper. But she was calling out to a dead man. He didn't exist anymore, being absorbed by merciless Musyamon. He was simply wiped out from existence. Dead, gone. Forever. And realization of that hurt harder than a thousand punches in the face...
|
|
|
|
Post by sangloupmon on Oct 31, 2011 14:13:02 GMT -5
The Viximon's sobs had quieted down, but the young digimon still wept, dampening his leg with her tears where she lied on his lap. Strabimon was beginning to resent the ache in his mind where his conscience was screaming at him. It pounded in time with her quiet weeping, and he just didn't like it.
The question was.. how to stop it? No matter how much the crying bothered him, he knew pounding her would only make him feel even worse, even if it did grant him a moment of silence as it had to Musyamon. He supposed he could be friendly to her, but wouldn't she hate him? Even if he wasn't part of the squad that attacked her and her 'father', he was still a member of their brigade, and currently was the one holding her. People hated and feared him for far less.
As if his heart wasn't being eaten up enough already, Viximon began mumbling to her 'daddy'. The term wasn't completely foreign to him, but it was a long time since he heard anyone use it. Back, a long time ago in primary village. Some older digimon would come and take in the young digimon who had made it to in-training level. Those young digimon often referred to those that raised them as mommy or daddy. Few of those older digimon were ever interested in him, and he ended up being taken by Musyamon. He supposed that would make Musyamon his 'daddy', but the thought made him cringe more than the Viximon's tears wetting his pants was.
"Shhh... Things will be difficult from now on." He whispered softly. The Strabimon wished he could lie, he knew this truth wasn't going to make her feel better, but what truth would help her? "But I'll be here for you. I could be your friend here..." The thought made him smile warmly, but his eyes betrayed his doubt. He had no friends in this brigade and this Viximon had no reason to make that change, and all the reason to reject him. Thinking after the fact, he probably shouldn't have bothered saying anything.
|
|
|
|
Post by observer on Nov 1, 2011 4:49:37 GMT -5
Friend? Did this ... this thief, this villain utter the word "friend"? How ... how dare he! Making fun of her like that, in her time of grief... She turned her head to face him for the first time, giving him a glare that had everything written in it. Musyamon should kill people with such glares, the depth of her hate and grief was unimaginable, there was a void in her gaze... Something not expected in such a frail, little creature...
But when she saw the bandit's face, she ... she turned away. It was none of those she saw before... Not ones that delivered the blow in her dad's face... He was a great warrior and swordsman... And yet one strike from a mediocre bandit took him down... so easily... Was this the easiest way to win? No... this face was ... different... It was ... kind, sorrowful even somehow. What was the bandit's grief? Was he pitying her? Why?
And things will be difficult from now on... The viximon didn't even want to think about this. She didn't want to think at all. She just collapsed on the lap, lying on it powerlessly. What powers could a poor viximon have? She cried still, but her tears were coming to an end, they were not unending after all. She decided to just ... lie down, and ... maybe sleep a bit. Go to sleep, unfortunate one, let Hypnos embrace you even for a little bit of time... And deal with it in the morning ... in the morning... Still...
- Be my friend... - she managed to mutter. She couldn't just ignore and forsake the ... nicer bandit, compared to the rest here... But still... a bandit...
|
|
|
|
Post by sangloupmon on Nov 1, 2011 5:59:45 GMT -5
The Viximon's reaction was more or less as Strabimon expected. His attempt at friendship had been met with glare of fury, grief and out right offense. It was completely disarming, though unfortunately the only weapon he had raised was friendship, and it was utterly rejected. Go figure. He should have just stayed quiet, let the Viximon weep. He didn't know what curse ever befell his egg, but it seemed he was completely doomed to loneliness.
Strabimon fell silent, quietly bitter about being rejected when he had tried his very best to be nice. Things were going to be hard, it might not be what the Viximon wanted to hear now, but she was going to have to settle in here quickly. Musyamon could barge in at any moment wondering why the hell she hadn't come to yet. The sooner she came to terms with her imprisonment, the better. She just wasn't taking things the right way.
Then the Viximon muttered something, 'be my friend.' The Strabimon couldn't quite understand what she meant by echoing those words. Did she accept him after all? Was she just quietly resenting he even suggesting it? She was finally getting to sleep, so he didn't try to press her. He instead simply allowed her to drift off to sleep. He himself just remained seated there, allowing her to rest as long as she could. Once she was awake again, he'd call Musyamon. What happened after that, he wasn't interested in thinking about.
[/sub] |
|
