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Gazimon
Champion
Digimook
Posts: 89
OOC Name: Opal
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Post by Gazimon on Jun 14, 2019 0:33:33 GMT
It was only after Gazimon was well and truly free of the many-hued silken morass that he felt able to stop and catch his breath. Not that he had been running, precisely, but the atmosphere of Tenebrous always gave one the impression that they were on the lamb.... Especially when one has something that doesn't technically belong to them. Not that this, in and of itself, was unusual down in the dark. What was more unusual was swiping one of the favourite toys of Octmon, one of the fixtures of the local black market, who was said to have a tentacle in everything... An expression most, Gazimon included, ascribed to in the literal sense. How long before his mooks--some former friends and cousins of Gazimon's acquaintance--were sent to search for the little artifact, or even chase him down in particular.
Gazimon extended his tongue back the direction he came, accompanying it with a shuddering sigh. He was shaky, but that nervous energy felt good. Felt better than a 500 bit meal, and left him feeling fuller, somehow. He smirked as he watched the midnight market below for some time, the varied digital figures moving to and fro as they saw to the shady workings of the place. The silken banners barely blew, this time of night. The wind was still. But the carefully woven fabrics covered so much of the hidden niche store fronts, stands and stalls that they seemed to bring a psychedelic rainbow to the vast, dim chamber. Voices below below accompanied the quiet creaking of the tangled web of bridges traversing the great cavern room. Sudden nostalgia seized the would be expatriate. This had been home--or something of the sort. But it didn't last long. Now, it was time for Gazimon to slip away.
He quietly backed further into the narrow opening of the smuggler's tunnel he'd planned to take to the surface and fished around inside for a moment, before drawing out his latest prize--a small d-terminal, which he raised to inspect in the dim light. Living so long in the pits meant he was able to see it clearly enough... It was a bit rusty here and there, and the screen was scratched, but the tinkerer had seen far worse. He grinned wide and moved to push the button on.
Nothing.
A frown proceeded, followed by a series of low, snarling swears as he tried the button again more times than strictly necessary... Then banged on it a bit, and seeing that it still would not yield. Only then did he flip it over to inspect the battery compartment. Empty. His roughly canid features scrunched up in a display somewhere between annoyance and embarrassment, with embarrassment mostly winning out.
"No juice," He huffed in exasperation, casting a cursory glance back off the direction he'd come. Best not descend back into the MalMarket just yet. Maybe he could work something out with the materials he was already carrying. Either way, he shouldn't linger much longer than necessary. With a quick flourish of his clawed limbs the Terminal was returned to a pouch in his pack. Just as quickly, he hefted it and began through the dark and winding ratsway upwards, towards the eventual outlet which would lead to the sewer-ways of Terminus, then into the city itself.
He moved warily, feeling both anxious about his new freedom--of sorts--as well as at the prospect of meeting someone in the tunnel by happenstance. As the Mammal digimon slipped quietly through the darkness, his tail stood at alert, and he sniffed his way forward for any sign of unexpected guests.
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Post by Cross on Jun 29, 2019 5:55:04 GMT
"Gazi. . .?" A voice called out in the darkness. A trio of pinpricks of crimson light that soon formed into the three eyes of a small feminine Baalmon as they came into the Gazimon's line of vision. Their brow furrowed as they eyed the mammal digimon a moment in confusion. Calling out to him with not his name, but the name of one of the head of one of Tenebrous's major smuggling operations. Only to pause sniffing the air.
"Ah. My apologies. You are not the Gazimon I am acquainted with." They murmured as they politely inclined their head their eerie striking crimson eyes flickering from the rookie to the tunnel leading to the city behind him.
"I wasn't expecting to come across anyone on this route. Might I inquire why you're in such a hurry? I hope the city isn't on fire or some such nonsense," She questioned making light of the idea that Tenebrous was possibly under threat in voice alone. For for all their teasing the sharpness of the Demon digimon's gaze and the way they tensed ready to defend their home was clues enough that they cared very much if the city was in danger.
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Gazimon
Champion
Digimook
Posts: 89
OOC Name: Opal
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Post by Gazimon on Jun 29, 2019 7:01:51 GMT
"Eh, who'sat?" The diminutive gray-furred figure barked, the hollow echo in the narrow space rather less intimidating to his own ear than he had intended to give it in his throat. Instead, he just sounded surprised. His tension increased for a few long beats as his own red eyes glinted, catching what few stray particles of light they could in the shabby under-earth tunnel, and shifted to glare into their richer-coloured counterparts. Fight-or-flight was writ clear on the mammalian digimon's face as clear it was instilled in his code. Fortunately, before he was forced to pick one or the other--and inevitably do something stupid--the voice came again, diffusing the short-fused timebomb that was the Gazimon's snap-decision instinct.
Hearing the offered apology and explanation, he couldn't help but give a snort, straightening to his insubstantial height in the dark, and raising a clawed forelimb to scratch at his face. All the tight-wound tension that had been building seemed to have been blown out in that simple sound-effect. "Yeah, yeah, get that all the time. Kinduva bummer but hey, comes in handy sometimes too."
"Likewise, cous. Might say it's because I am in a hurry." Of course, giving an honest explanation just like that was out of the question. This unexpected back-tunnel Baalmon definitely wasn't one of Octomon's daft-headed implements, but it was almost more concerning that she was not. Had she been, Gazimon would at least know what he was dealing with. He swallowed hard and put on his best crooked smile, raising his foreclaws in a mitigating motion.
"Nothin' so dire, just a spot of business, you know how it is--timer's always tickin'. Don't think there's been anything like a fire since, uh, few months ago maybe, Candlemon got drunk in a bad way and decided to take a nap in Tenebrous Textiles. Not just on the floor or anything, but in the store's store. The actual textiles. Think he'll probably be workin' that debt off to Arukenimon for his next few cycles, heh." It wasn't purely nervous habit that sent him rambling. Well, it was that, but there was more to it. He could read the other digimon's motions, at least at the most basic level--and if she was an under-town regular too then just this sort of familiar my-cousin-told-me-his-friend's-squeeze's kind of story might help to put them on a level. Or at least on something approaching a level for two digimon of extremely varied level meeting in an awkwardly narrow pass. It also just might help as a verbose smoke-screen to cover the actual question asked.
"... What you doin' down this way yourself, come to think?" He asked suddenly, curiosity getting the better of him as her face--or what of it one could see--resolved into clearer form in the shadows. "Ain't exactly one of the mainways. Some business takin' you down, maybe, or up?"
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Post by Cross on Jun 29, 2019 7:23:30 GMT
"Drunk you say?" The Baalmon asked with an amused hum, a mischievous and dangerous glittering to their strange glowing crimson eyes, "I heard a very different story about drugs slipped into a Candlemon's drink to burn down a textile shop that was competing a little too effectively with another shop backed by an Octmon's small time gang." She quipped with a wry tilt of her head, the Demon digimon clearly rather well informed.
"I've been meaning to look into the matter. It's funny how things change as they filter down the gossip vine," The Baalmon added striding a bit closer though they came to a stop a polite arms length from the Gazimon so as not to startle the poor rabbit cat.
"As for myself. . . well I'm returning home from business. Though I was intending to stop in at one of my favorite shops for a spot of tea." She explained her gaze shifting at the distant sound of rapid footsteps further into the tunnel behind the Gazimon.
"Would you care to join me for a cup? I'd be interested to hear your thoughts on Tenebrous and you'll find not many find interrupting my conversations appealing." The Baalmon offered holding out a hand to the Gazimon, a gesture of sanctuary whether he understood it or not.
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Gazimon
Champion
Digimook
Posts: 89
OOC Name: Opal
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Post by Gazimon on Jun 30, 2019 20:16:00 GMT
"Uh, ya don't say?" The Gazimon blinked openly at that informed retort. His features showed a quick trinary cycle, eyes and features moving between searching for any hint that she was joking or spinning, pausing to verify it against the frayed thread-ends of rumours he himself had picked up on, then checking her face again as if some additional detail might have been written out on it since the last time he checked. This all resolved after a few long seconds of silence in the dark. He blinked. In the end, his attempt to put them on a level had simply made more clear what a difference in level there was. Well, that was at least as valuable. "Y'know, now you mention, does seem awful fishy Candlemon would just doze off like that in such a place, drunk or no. Guy's a hothead, sure, but he's not irresponsible. Sounds like the sort of racket Octmon might run, too... Though sounds like the sort of thing any number of small-timers could have their hands, claws, tentacles, or other variable appendages in..." He scratched the side of his face.
"Heh, sure, I guess. Like a thousand-player game of Mailmon, all in the dark," The chimeric mammal physically braced as the Baalmon approached, but his gaze followed hers, resulting in his head tilting back slightly to keep eye contact. He didn't know what he thought might happen if he looked away. He just felt like he shouldn't. Just who was this lady?..
"Uhuh, well sounds lovely, but I--" His voice trailed off, leaving the unlikely conversation partners both all too aware of the sound of approaching footsteps. His ears twitched and honed backwards, and he started to turn his head, only to stop before he looked all the way. His mouth went dry and he licked his lips. Somewhere in his head, he was calculating his options. Zeroes and ones resolving into holographic dice on a table. Baalmon could probably see his eyes flickering minutely to follow them.
"... Now you mention it, I'm parched!" Gazimon's jaw set in an attempt to preserve his smile, spreading it wide and fragile across his face. Bet on the Devimon you don't know, that was his motto! He crowded just slightly closer to her and that offered hand of his own accord. "My business can wait 'til after tea-time," He energetically waved the very thought aside like so many lingering bugs. Somehow, his voice rode the edge between easy-going and manic, leaning more distinctly into the latter as those footsteps drew nearer, and he tried to count just how many there were. "You said you got a favourite spot in mind?"
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Post by Cross on Jun 30, 2019 21:41:39 GMT
Taking the Gazimon's clawed hand in her own the Baalmon glanced down at the rookie with a smile. "Are you any good at keeping a secret Gazimon?" She questioned with a tilt of her head as the footsteps gradually grew louder and closer. There was at least, from the sounds of them, three individuals or maybe more. "Because I don't find myself in much a mood for a fight and you seem clever enough. I'd really rather hate to have to kill you after I'm making such an effort to save you." The Baalmon explained as she reached across to raise her sleeve revealing a rather strange looking D-terminal clasped to her wrist where she held Gazimon's hand as she tapped a few commands into it. In a moment the Baalmon's frankly eerie signal was muffled, the Digimon itself disappearing from sight to be replaced by a human. A human woman with pale skin, off-blue eyes, and wild blond hair pulled back into a ponytail wearing dark clothes and a white Doctor's lab coat. A woman who's appearance caused the angry looking Ogremon, Cyclomon, and Monodramon that came around the corner to freeze in their tracks. "Holy shit it's the Doctor. . ." The Monodramon whispered breathlessly rapidly back-pedaling in fear as the woman stared at the group impassively her grip never loosening on the Gazimon's hand who seemed to appear to have been forgotten at her sudden appearance. "You're supposed to be dead!" The Ogremon exclaimed in horror, the Cyclomon with him spinning and looking around the tunnel with his one eye as if enemies would materialize from the rocks themselves and rip them to shreds just for laying eyes on the human. He'd heard the rumors. "Oh," The Woman murmured voice a low deadly purr as she tilted her head their words seeming to be news to her, "But I am." She added a slow predatory smile spreading across her face that seemed to be enough for the small time thugs as they turned tail and outright fled. They weren't paid enough to deal with a ghost that wasn't a Bakemon. "Now. . ." The woman spoke clicking the holosuit off as the Baalmon reappeared once more in her place and began to leisurely tug the Gazimon after the way the thugs had fled towards the exit. "I mentioned tea." |
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Gazimon
Champion
Digimook
Posts: 89
OOC Name: Opal
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Post by Gazimon on Jun 30, 2019 23:01:09 GMT
Gazimon blinked and gawked at that sudden question, a non-sequitur surpassed only by the meeting of these two very different souls in a shabby smuggler's tunnel in the first place. "Well, yeah, uh, yeah sure. Don't make it too far in night-town without knowin' when to keep your trap shut," He nervously assured her.
"Whoa, say-say now cous, ehe, no need for anything so drastic! Right?" The smaller digimon suddenly gave a few ineffectual tugs at the Baalmon's comparatively grave-like grip. His fur bristled as that unusual D-terminal was flashed before his prying red eyes, finding himself for not the first time at a crossroads between intense instinct to survive and it's natural enemy, curiosity.
His wide cinnabar eyes restlessly started to patrol between his suddenly very human-looking acquaintance and the path back, not precisely certain what to make of this. Would such a transformation from dread-aura digimon to--at least comparatively--unassuming human really have a positive net effect? He had the sense not to ask, demonstrating the virtue of that most essential trap-shutting skill he extolled earlier, lapsing into an anxious silence as he watched the bizarre back and forth play out before him.
The rookie virus very nearly slumped to the ground as the thuggish triad retreated back into the familiar shadows from whence they came, very likely only kept afloat by the firm hold on his arm. He turned and lifted his gaze just in time to watch that human face resolve again into the red-eyed visage that had first greeted him, and blinked. There was something familiar, yet missing, about that distinctly not-digimon mask the demonic digimon had worn. Something important, if the way his fellow Tenebrous residents reacted was anything to go by. He filed a clear memory of the image away.
"Hey, flash trick, sis..." He commented dumbly as he allowed himself to be tugged along like a particularly pointy, bristly plush-doll. He was getting the distinct impression that he was in over his head... And with it, that familiar sickening excitement that would often accompany. Wouldn't be the first time. Best he could do was hold his breath and keep paddling for the surface, as always, and just maybe he'd break the tarry surface of the deep-city shadows to live another night. "You do rebirthday parties, too?" He chuckled weakly as he followed the course back the way he'd come under the glaring red supervision of his new associate. "Tea, yeah, tea would hit the spot right about now actually. We go halfsies or what?"
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Post by Cross on Jul 1, 2019 18:07:20 GMT
"Once," The Baalmon murmurs at his question about rebirth parties her wry smile filled with pain and self-depreciating humor, "I wasn't asked for an encore." She explains tugging him down the winding tunnel and out into the artificial light of Tenebrous by the hand like one would a small child. Guiding him down the rusty metal rebar steps, built from salvage to be sturdy, but far from pretty.
"You may call me Cross. Needless to say you didn't see that human back there." She informs him as they join the throng of merchants and shoppers the Gazimon had been observing not so long ago from above. Threading their way through colorful stalls till they find a small shop situated in the rusty shell of an old building patched over with fabric to give it a sense of solidarity rather then the moth eaten husk of it's former appearance. Stepping inside with a brush of her hand to part the curtains reveals a small tea room set with low tables and piled round with pillows as a small Demidevimon flits around neatening things.
"Oh! Customers! Please please! Have a seat!" She, from the sounds of the Demidevimon's high pitched voice, chirps up motioning the pair to have a seat. Cross settling them at the table furthest from the door, her back to a solid wall where she could watch the entryway as she pats the pillow beside her.
"We'd like two cups of your best blend and. . ." The Baalmon trails off eyeing the Gazimon's thin frame and ragged coat with a keen eye. Her gaze one that says she finds something lacking though with the sharp disapproval that speaks of her disappointment being not in him, but the world, "And three orders of your house pie." She adds, the DemiDevimon flapping off quickly to fill their orders.
"You can pay me back by informing me of why those thugs were chasing you," Cross informs the Gazimon before he has the chance to open his mouth and argue over the bill.
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Gazimon
Champion
Digimook
Posts: 89
OOC Name: Opal
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Post by Gazimon on Jul 2, 2019 0:00:03 GMT
The Gazimon watched the phantom-esque figure of the Baalmon forge the way back along the path he had traversed in what felt like much shorter time, and then back out into the varied luminescence of the main cavern. The change in lighting wasn't exactly night and day, but it was still enough to make the short mammal wince as he was tugged along at the tea-driven whim of this mysterious digimon. For his part, though, he kept up pretty well for his size, only tripping once or twice as they traversed the occasionally irregular footing of the caves and walkways, sidestepping obstacles and passerby by ducking beneath his unusual guide's flowing cape and stepping over the frequent tentacle-like cable feeding power to and from who-knows-where.
"Cross? Sure, sure. I'm Gazimon--just Gazimon. Who ever heard'a just bumping into a human on one of the backways anyway? Those other guys, though, who knows what kinda shadow-addled hallucinations they're gonna be mouthin' off about," The rookie straightened up a bit as they came to pause in the entryway of the little teapot stop-off, his ears likewise raising to further extend his diminutive size. He allowed his gaze to wander over the comparatively peaceful little nook, and offered a few small sniffs at the lightly fragrant air, picking up on the scents of the eponymous tea with a few undertones of it's accompanying suspects. He'd never been here before, and that was clear from the contemplative look on his face. But then, that wasn't unusual in a place where a thousand little shops catering to this fancy or that cooperated and competed, some flourishing for only a profitable week before vanishing into hibernation, or never to be seen again.
He immediately decided he liked the place, and, after letting his pack slip off next to the offered seat with a small grunt, took his place on the pillow gratefully, shifting and squirming a bit before deciding he was comfortable enough. He allowed himself to look back up at Cross in time to catch the discerning look she was giving him. Indeed, even among the stereo-typically poor-to-do and shady breed of the Gazimon, he cut perhaps a particularly scruffy figure that hadn't been improved by his two day anxiety-enforced fasting before he set his plan in motion. Judging by the growing frown, the lingering glare back up, and the building tension in his slender form, he didn't particularly like the look she was giving him, and not because he wasn't accustomed to it. Instead, he had seen it too many times. The sort of look that made him feel like he was in a line-up, or maybe a sympathetic piece of meat.
Before he had the opportunity to mouth off, though, his ears perked at that order of pie, and he smiled suddenly, quite mollified. That accompanying demand seemed to give him a moment's pause, though. Finally, he sighed, "Well, ya might be better off takin' that up with them, lady. Could be any number'a things got them chompin' after my tail." That was the truth, at least, but given the trouble that the Baalmon had gone through--and the intensifying scent of pie in the air--he felt like he owed her a bit more than that. He turned to his pack, taking a moment to feel around in one of the pockets before withdrawing the battered, sleek shape of a D-Terminal. He slid it onto the table, near to the central floral arrangement of a plastic flower and a glistening bioluminescent stalk set together in a label-worn glass bottle, the kind of quirky table setting one could only really find in a Tenebrous establishment.
"Though most likely, Octmon put 'em on me over this. Decided to take it as a little severance pay for previous service rendered without pay before I split town. Seemed a small enough thing... Figured no-one would miss it, least not right away." He shrugged, letting himself lean back and tilting his gaze over towards Cross. "Guess it was more important than I gathered, judgin' by how quick and how many them guys came after me. Well, heh, if it was me they were after, and over this." The digimon scratched, with long sharp claws, at the protrusion of his nose "Might be Tentacles was daff enough to store some data on the thing worth more'n figured, or maybe it was important to some scheme of his. Or maybe he just really likes the thing. Didn't really have time to check it before I made off." Suddenly, he grinned up at his table-mate, a rare glitter of genuine enthusiasm in those rich red cinnabar eyes. "Pretty interestin', right?"
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