Prologue (WIP)

Name: Newol Hoffen

Alias: Cotter

Age: 24

Height: 6'3"

Weight: 200 lbs

Alignment: Chaotic Good (Good Men Don't Need Rules)

Birth Date: 02/01

Western Horoscope: Aquarius

Birth Place: South Carolina, USA



Skills/Talents:
Heavy Duty Diesel Repair, Second degree black in Tang Soo Do, Self taught computer hardware skills, Leadership skills (When NEEDED, never volunteered), Quick witted, generally a fast learner, and just an all around Mister Fix It, 


Backpack Contents: Newol doesn't carry a backpack often, he's more likely to be seen with his Satchel. At least for the carrying of things not directly attached to his personage. But we'll use this area here to talk about the things you can expect to see on him on a regular day to day basis. He is usually always wearing under his shirt or jacket, a digicamo underarm pouch, with the strap running from his left side to his right shoulder. It stays out of side and out of mind, and it is where he keeps a few basic simple things. A pack of menthol cigarettes. An extra Bic lighter. A bottle opener, a few hundred dollars worth of cash (Based on USD conversion to whatever country he's in), His Commercial Driver's License, a spare set of keys, lip balm, ya know. Small things of that nature. Think of it like a big ol' hidden wallet encase someone ever jacks his actual wallet. 

Then there is is actual wallet. A black leather Tri-fold chain wallet with a thick, matte black finish chain that runs from his back pocket to his right front belt loop. On his belt he carries a Zippo holster with a rebel flag zippo lighter and a small little two and a half inch tactical knife in a hard plastic holster off set to the right side of his back. The knife's more of a work knife than anything else, it's handle wrapped in digicamo paracord that's long since turned black with grease and diesel fuel, the matte black finish of the blade is scratched up a whole bunch. It's possible he'd use it as a PDW if he had to but it's honestly more for opening boxes and plastic containers and stuff like that. He of course always has his smartphone on him. It is a very large device of the Samsung Note vein of cellular devices in a very heavy duty shock case that he assembled himself personally by hand when he was in Shenzhen China, the smartphone capital of the world. He obviously also carries a large Multi-tool in a holster on the left side of his back given his line of work. And, of course, at all hours of the day, his D-Arc is attached to his left hip. 

His satchel is a weathered and battle tested and well worn olive drab military bag that he uses to carry his Laptop, a slightly modified Panasonic CF-54 Toughbook, loaded with all the major software for connected to vehicles of varying degrees and purposes, as well as the appropriate OBDII, J1569, and J1939 connection modules, as his is of course, A Technician above all other things. When he is carrying his satchel there is always a very extensive first aid kit in it as well.  




Currently, Newol uses a D-Arc Digivice with a few... personality quirks, to it. It is a dark russet brown with a very Safety Orange faceplate. Covering the Digivice's russet brown body panels are several strange markings. This device is several years old now. It has had quite a few miles put on it. The screen is cracked, the card reader no longer works. The little nylon strap which was once also safety orange has long since been covered in deep oil and grease stains. The paint is chipped and faded in several places. It has seen it's better days, for certain. BUT. It still makes light. There's still some life left in it. He intendeds to buy himself another one some day, to use as a parts donor to fix his with. 


Believe it or not, this rough and cold exterior you see when you look at Newol is a sign of progress. Of improvement. Because it's only an exterior. He's changed as the years have gone by. In his partnership with Ayarumon, he's grown. You see, when he was at his darkest and most alone, she reached out through the darkness and took his hand, and never let go for a single second since then. And through her dragging him into this world of digimon and heroism and tragedy and hardship and love and laughter, walking the road of a Digidestined, he's grown. Underneath that hard exterior, there is light and love. He is incredibly patient. His touch is soft, and his voice is calm. He tries. He tries very very hard to stay out of the way. To live a calm and quiet life with his friends and his digimon. But he doesn't turn away from his responsibility as a Tamer. When he is required to stand up, he Stands. And when he is required to lead, he Leads. He doesn't do well on his own. He never has. And that's why Ayarumon is so important to him. Because she makes sure he is never alone, so that he can step free of that cold and rough exterior and be the good thing underneath. So that that can stand at the forefront. And as such, he is loyal to a fault to her. The lengths he would go to to protect her are very extreme. They are an inseparable, symbiotic pair, the two of them. 

But even at his best, a good word to explain Newol's presence, is Subtle. Words are just words. Let the actions speak. Other simple, yet massive and impactful one liners like that. He believes in the sun coming up over the horizon. Tomorrow, babies will still be born, elders will still die, the sun will still come up, and we'll all have to pull our uniforms on and go back to work to make that bread and pay those bills. Dogs will still bark, birds will still chirp. Children will still be laughing as they run through the park, mothers will still be in the grocery story buying food for their babies, cars will still move up and down the road. Flowers bloom along a chainlink fence, and steam still rises up out of street manholes. 

The world still goes on. And that is absolutely beautiful. It's all he wants. And he's going to try and be whatever he needs to be in the moment, to make sure that everyone gets there. Everyone makes it through the night, and through the darkness, so that they can all go back to their lives. To him, there's a beautiful thing in the average ordinary way of life. 





FaceClaim: imgur.com/a/6A8Qu4B


Personal History:

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Digimon Name: Ayaru

Default Form: Rookie

Gender: Female

Alignment: Chaotic Good (Sometimes what's Right and what's Within The Rules don't always agree)

Skills/Talents:



Tactical walkie talkie collar and an olive drab Molle leg panel holding the actual walkie talkie, a small GPS tracker with a panic button, and a battery pack. All weather resistant. All her idea. She wears it on her left thigh, and usually only during the day when her Tamer is at work and she's out and about adventuring on her own. 


Ayrau's personality is much less complex than her Tamer's own. She can best be described with one word. Love. Ayrau is a Lover. She is fun loving and kind and caring. When she lays down and goes to sleep, she dreams about providing the whole world a bit warm blanket to snuggle together underneath and hide from the monsters, giggle and smile. She is a creature of heart and soul and instinct. Of stubborn, boneheaded will and Determination. She is loyal to her friends to a fault, and above all things else, Exists to tether her tamer's Soul else he drift away  back to that very dark place. Her only original purpose for forcing herself into existence was so that he didn't have to be alone and hurt inside anymore. She has grown into much more, but this core value still remains. 


Ayaru's history is... Difficult to explain. There's a few core elements about her you need to remember, and they
all stem from the same fact. Ayaru's base code is ancient. By Digimon Standards, that is. Positively prehistoric, (Again by digimon standards). It's likely that this piece of her codding was one of the original 8bit sprites beep-booping around on an old black and green, tube powered monitor back in V1.0 for all we know. Point is, there's a piece of her that has somehow survived. Through determination and shear power of will, after countless rewrites and updates and patches to the Digital World, this shard of coding hung on, for dear life. Occasionally popping up here and there as some radiant white light when it had the whim to. It's where her unique ability comes from. It's where the strange symbol on her forehead comes from. It's the reason why her code is so utterly bizarre that it can't be absorbed by other Digimon because of it's incompatibility. 

One day as the little light was going about it's merry, simple existence. Then, it felt something new. Something different. It was pain. Not physical pain. No. It heard someone's soul crying. Dying. Drowning, in a sea of loneliness and hatred and sadness and confusion and anxiety. Someone who's inner light was slowly fading out. And this little shard of data, it didn't know much. But it knew that this really hurt. Worst than any physical pain. And it really wanted to do something. It wanted to help, somehow. It thought, maybe if it could hug whoever this soul belonged to, maybe that'd be enough to pull it back up out of the waters. You see? Ayaru didn't even have shape or form yet, and she just knew what hugs were and how good hugs were, by instinct. 

So. The little light thought really hard about it. How could it go hug the person? Well, first it needed to be more than a little light. So, it made up it's mind that it'd just become something solid, what was a little alteration to itself if it meant helping someone? Only seconds after this train of thought completed, an egg finished taking shape in one of the forests within the Digital world, and light flooded the cabin of a 18 year old's old muscle car in Japan as a D-3 materialized in it's floorboard. 

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Fresh

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In-Training

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Champion

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Ultimate

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Biomerge / Burst Mode

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