The last farewell [Solo]
Dec 29, 2018 11:06:00 GMT
Post by Deleted on Dec 29, 2018 11:06:00 GMT
How long was that fight?
Fifteen minutes. It would of gone longer if she hadn't stumbled.
She did it on purpose. I don't know why.
Answers we'll find as we process her data.
At the edge of the blood sea sat a haggard form. Many cuts and bruises lining along her frame; her cloak itself was in tatters and the digimon herself was worn out from what happened to be one of the fiercest fights that she had ever been privy to. Above the sea of blood no less.
Each blistering strike that they shared was etched into her gloves, each swing of their sword was like memories shared between the two. It wasn't so much a fight as a dance and exchange of data proper. A strong pull between the two mons as every ounce of data that was shed was immediately taken and converted into their own.
Gracenovamon.
She was strong. Beyond comparison.
No... She had equals, she had foes and friends just like we did.
A Mon out of her time. But rather than give way to the new she sought to take it.
We all fight for what we believe in.
She'd look at the cut and torn ribbons that her cloak was now. The deep grooves of healing gouges that the gracenovamon's blades had pushed upon her body. Each had been exchanged with her in some way or another. Grunting she'd slowly stand and stare up at the sky. A hand coming up to trace along a few cuts that were still prominent on her face.
She was scared. Just like us.
Scared of what?
Being forgotten. Lost into the edges of time. Something we fear too but...
You had culture that kept you. She only had her own power.
The renamon looked down at her hands and frowned quietly. She could feel the pulsing variety of powers lacing through her data. Etching into her, healing her. Making her whole again. Something else painfully creeping up her spine. Worming it's way into her data piece by bloody piece.
Each set of data that locked in gave the renamon a pulse of powerful energy, but the memories that came with them were haunting to her. More struggling to understand what she was being shown than anything. Her jaw dropping slightly as they washed over her forcing her to take a seat again at the edge of the cliff that oversaw that wretched place of abandonment.
...The fire itself was a merry one, it caressed and brokered the light. A form weathered as her own stood in the door, the most recent harvest in his hands. Growing anything in the north was next to impossible but her J had done it...
What were these memories? They weren't... They weren't her own. They weren't what she could understand. Gripping at herself her eyes widened as the memories continued forth. Dizzying amounts of years upon years of experience with this individual known as J. But it wasn't until something peculiar sprung into her mind, as the hours passed after the fight.
...He had brought back something that she thought she would never see again. A viximon of all things! They had tried for children many a time up in the north but never once did they ever get that pull to the village but here! Now? They had a child that just appeared on the mountain steps! White furred hands reached down to pick up the babbling mon, one that looked lost and timid in her hands. Pressing the youth to her chest the renamon cooed quietly. "It's okay Momma K's got you..."
The renamon sat in abject silence as the memories of her mother continued to flow into herself. Overlaying her own memories of that time before too long... Something else happened. More memories buckled and gave into her seeking probing thoughts.
...A blade lay buried deep in her chest, She was coughing up data. Her husband lay not more than an arm's reach from them. Her daughter panicking in her room. The door itself had been broken inwards a bit but she couldn't climb it not with it on fire and in wreckage of sorts. Grunting with exertion she'd dragged myself away from her husband. The fire was spreading in the little home, it didn't take long for her to drag herself through the safer parts to that door. A single fist. Followed by a second or third. The door fell inwards and the viximon practically leaped forward burying it's head into hers. The renamon's body wasn't moving too well, she had exerted herself far too much. She'd place a single hand, lovingly on the head of the viximon as it tried to push her body towards the door in a fruitless effort. "My daughter... take my strength, my form, my name... Become better than what we were..."
"N...No.. that can't..."
Her interruption notwithstanding gave way still into the memories proper of this event. Etched ever more into the fact something was terribly wrong with all of this.
...The blue data peeled itself from her mother's frame, giving it into her without much thought. With each passing second there was less of her mother and more of her. The renamon was eventually gone in a blue haze, all of which had directed itself to the viximon. The staring sad eyes of her father was all that she could see for a brief moment before that light of digivolution took her. But there was little in the way of celebration as the weregarurumon scooped up his... daughter? in his arms and bolted out of the door now that he was 'conscious'. The flight down the mountain was one that they had to make together...
Silence greeted her further yet still.
"She... Was afraid of this."
More and more. She remembered you as a daughter. The longer her memories mixed with 'yours', the longer she found herself craving you. Not as an enemy...
"But as one to pass the torch to."
Time will pass and we will see what she wanted from us.
The renamon sighed and stretched a little bit, wincing at the tug of her wounds. She would have to rest for a few days after this at the very least, she would of course be tender the entire time and have to consider some supplements of sorts to get her back on her A-game... but the longest challenge of her life had been decided in a short span of fifteen minutes.
A fight that with every swing, every thrust wasn't one that spoke of hatred to her. But one that spoke of a mother wishing her daughter a final farewell. Given the chance by some extreme circumstances.
What now?
"I'm going to make us some stew."
Fifteen minutes. It would of gone longer if she hadn't stumbled.
She did it on purpose. I don't know why.
Answers we'll find as we process her data.
At the edge of the blood sea sat a haggard form. Many cuts and bruises lining along her frame; her cloak itself was in tatters and the digimon herself was worn out from what happened to be one of the fiercest fights that she had ever been privy to. Above the sea of blood no less.
Each blistering strike that they shared was etched into her gloves, each swing of their sword was like memories shared between the two. It wasn't so much a fight as a dance and exchange of data proper. A strong pull between the two mons as every ounce of data that was shed was immediately taken and converted into their own.
Gracenovamon.
She was strong. Beyond comparison.
No... She had equals, she had foes and friends just like we did.
A Mon out of her time. But rather than give way to the new she sought to take it.
We all fight for what we believe in.
She'd look at the cut and torn ribbons that her cloak was now. The deep grooves of healing gouges that the gracenovamon's blades had pushed upon her body. Each had been exchanged with her in some way or another. Grunting she'd slowly stand and stare up at the sky. A hand coming up to trace along a few cuts that were still prominent on her face.
She was scared. Just like us.
Scared of what?
Being forgotten. Lost into the edges of time. Something we fear too but...
You had culture that kept you. She only had her own power.
The renamon looked down at her hands and frowned quietly. She could feel the pulsing variety of powers lacing through her data. Etching into her, healing her. Making her whole again. Something else painfully creeping up her spine. Worming it's way into her data piece by bloody piece.
Each set of data that locked in gave the renamon a pulse of powerful energy, but the memories that came with them were haunting to her. More struggling to understand what she was being shown than anything. Her jaw dropping slightly as they washed over her forcing her to take a seat again at the edge of the cliff that oversaw that wretched place of abandonment.
...The fire itself was a merry one, it caressed and brokered the light. A form weathered as her own stood in the door, the most recent harvest in his hands. Growing anything in the north was next to impossible but her J had done it...
What were these memories? They weren't... They weren't her own. They weren't what she could understand. Gripping at herself her eyes widened as the memories continued forth. Dizzying amounts of years upon years of experience with this individual known as J. But it wasn't until something peculiar sprung into her mind, as the hours passed after the fight.
...He had brought back something that she thought she would never see again. A viximon of all things! They had tried for children many a time up in the north but never once did they ever get that pull to the village but here! Now? They had a child that just appeared on the mountain steps! White furred hands reached down to pick up the babbling mon, one that looked lost and timid in her hands. Pressing the youth to her chest the renamon cooed quietly. "It's okay Momma K's got you..."
The renamon sat in abject silence as the memories of her mother continued to flow into herself. Overlaying her own memories of that time before too long... Something else happened. More memories buckled and gave into her seeking probing thoughts.
...A blade lay buried deep in her chest, She was coughing up data. Her husband lay not more than an arm's reach from them. Her daughter panicking in her room. The door itself had been broken inwards a bit but she couldn't climb it not with it on fire and in wreckage of sorts. Grunting with exertion she'd dragged myself away from her husband. The fire was spreading in the little home, it didn't take long for her to drag herself through the safer parts to that door. A single fist. Followed by a second or third. The door fell inwards and the viximon practically leaped forward burying it's head into hers. The renamon's body wasn't moving too well, she had exerted herself far too much. She'd place a single hand, lovingly on the head of the viximon as it tried to push her body towards the door in a fruitless effort. "My daughter... take my strength, my form, my name... Become better than what we were..."
"N...No.. that can't..."
Her interruption notwithstanding gave way still into the memories proper of this event. Etched ever more into the fact something was terribly wrong with all of this.
...The blue data peeled itself from her mother's frame, giving it into her without much thought. With each passing second there was less of her mother and more of her. The renamon was eventually gone in a blue haze, all of which had directed itself to the viximon. The staring sad eyes of her father was all that she could see for a brief moment before that light of digivolution took her. But there was little in the way of celebration as the weregarurumon scooped up his... daughter? in his arms and bolted out of the door now that he was 'conscious'. The flight down the mountain was one that they had to make together...
Silence greeted her further yet still.
"She... Was afraid of this."
More and more. She remembered you as a daughter. The longer her memories mixed with 'yours', the longer she found herself craving you. Not as an enemy...
"But as one to pass the torch to."
Time will pass and we will see what she wanted from us.
The renamon sighed and stretched a little bit, wincing at the tug of her wounds. She would have to rest for a few days after this at the very least, she would of course be tender the entire time and have to consider some supplements of sorts to get her back on her A-game... but the longest challenge of her life had been decided in a short span of fifteen minutes.
A fight that with every swing, every thrust wasn't one that spoke of hatred to her. But one that spoke of a mother wishing her daughter a final farewell. Given the chance by some extreme circumstances.
What now?
"I'm going to make us some stew."