
Skip Navigation
πββ&, πββ&ββ, β‘ββ§« πββ&ββ (Sci) [Mission Companion]
|
Post by Elliot and Isaac Sunderland on Jul 18, 2016 5:21:16 GMT
πββββ β¬₯βββ β¬₯β βββββ ? ββ, ββ⬧! πββ§«ββββ β β§«ββ ββ‘β⧫⬧ β⬧ β§«βββ ββββ§« βββββ ⬧⧫ β§«ββ ββββββ β§« πβ β‘β¬₯ββ β β§«βββ β¬₯βββ β ββββ ββ&β ββ§«
πββββ‘ββ β§«β‘ ββ ⬧pβββββ ββββ.
Of course Isaac wasn't okay! But was he really going to clue anyone else in on that fact? As far as he knew, when there was a will, there was a way. And right now, he still had that last sliver of hope he could cling onto. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing, and Isaac had smashed his head into walls over less. This was one hell of a wall, but Isaac refused to stop his effort for even a second.
After all, he knew what happened when he stopped. It was still so clear in his mind, how the D-Reaper nearly broke him down. With but a word, it pounced on him in that echo chamber and went for the jugular, assailing Isaac with the vision of a person who he cared about the most. Only by its own mistake, of pushing the wrong buttons in an attempt at kicking Isaac down further, did the boy manage to worm out of the trap. What would have happened if he was left alone, with nothing but Maia's soothing voice and visions of a better yesterday, was a possibility that left Isaac terrified. Maybe the D-Reaper let go, or maybe he willed himself out of its illusions with his final tantrum. If he let his blood run cold and his heart stop pounding, would it be able to snake its way back into his mind? He couldn't let himself find out.
Maybe that was what lead him to take such interest in the Ebemon's research.
It seemed that he and this new arrival had come to vastly different conclusions about the D-Reaper, though. Isaac saw a monstrosity, a blight with a terrifyingly rational mind, that sought nothing but harm for him and his friends. This Ebemon, on the other hand, seemed over the moon about it. Its excited babbling and pacing back and forth was a little hard for Isaac to hear from over there, but a few words stuck out as clearly as day. Amazing. Learning. Adapting. Potential. None of those words sounded like good news, and yet here was Ebemon acting like it had just struck oil. Was it trying to harness the D-Reaper as a weapon? Or was it just completely failing to understand what it was dealing with here? If not for the armored alien looking completely terrifying, Isaac would've been tempted to call it an idiot. One close call with death was enough for the day, though.
He didn't know what possessed him to activate his Dark Ascent, flying up to the Ebemon's side on a trail of shadows. Maybe he, too, was hoping to get a better understanding of the situation. Nonetheless, whether able to look at the screens himself or only going off of the Ebemon's words, Isaac wanted some answers.
"What are you talking about?"
|
|
|
Post by darkblade on Jul 19, 2016 1:15:55 GMT
Left undisturbed, the Ebemon would have continued going through the screens, minute after minute and hour after hour, only giving his rambling, excited responses to the Impmon he was barely aware of. What had perhaps looked like a deep interest would clearly become obvious as an obsession: this robotic mega looked over every screen, in intense detail, typing out notes in a Digital language on another, before flicking it aside and pulling up another.
Alright, so he was addicted. But if there was any solace to Isaac, this creature wasn't trying to jack into his mind or tear him into a million pieces of data, so at least the Impmon was able to think over the situation. It did put an interesting sort of tension in the room, though. Was this Ebemon directing the D-Reaper, and was Isaac staring at the pilot? Was the Ebemon helping create the constructs outside? Or was it just another hopeless, warped, trapped prisoner, with the D-Reaper still in the driver's seat?
One wouldn't be able to find out, without a little investigation. Seeing the Impmon float up, instead of batting the imp away, the Ebemon merely moved off to the side. Perhaps surprisingly, he passed a screen that he was done with over to the imp, an intangible, static-laced projection presented before him. Upon it, Elliot could see a list of several Digimon, some of which he probably wouldn't recognize: Agumon, Puppetmon, Ebidramon, Piedmon, Agunimon... an almost random list, each with an attached picture, and a description underneath. The language was absolutely indecipherable, but the inputs looked like they would respond to touch.
And if Isaac would explore further... he'd find more detail. The most prominent, at the top of each article, would be the picture of the Digimon as it last was, in some hellish, red landscape, half-consumed by some red, corrosive mass. Underneath, not only would there be more data, but data was continuing to be processed: line after line, growing at the bottom in spurts, as if some unseen hand was taking down bullet-points.
"It learns, it grows... it advances..." The Ebemon muttered, poking through a similar screen. He had given a face, to the D-Reaper's absolutely primal programming, and had grown addicted to its way of thinking. But to 'learn' by destroying... was the Ebemon truly capable of thinking like that, independently?
|
|
|
Post by Elliot and Isaac Sunderland on Jul 19, 2016 4:55:04 GMT
Yeah, this thing had clearly gone off the deep end ages ago. That was apparent as soon as Isaac saw the screen that the Ebemon had passed to him. As soon as the boy saw the first picture, he wanted to vomit. Digimon, when injured badly enough, tended to disperse into clouds and strings of data. Maybe they degenerated, maybe they just vanished into the wind. It was unnerving seeing a living being unravel like that, but it was far preferable to the dismemberment and dissolution that Isaac was seeing now. Digimon shouldn't look like that. There was something fundamentally wrong with it. And that was before considering the imagery, of these great beasts lying in bloody, red goop.
Large or small, weak or powerful, it seemed none could escape the D-Reaper's clutches. And Isaac had wandered right into its innermost sanctum.
The Ebemon didn't seem to be in control of the situation. It didn't even seem to be in control of itself, enthralled by the awe-inspiring destruction that the reaper wrought. When Isaac pressed the issue and the Ebemon merely continued the same rambles that it had made long before, Isaac knew he wouldn't likely gain any useful intel out of it. At the same time, its computers weren't much more help. The language they were in, beyond the names of the Digimon, made absolutely no sense to Isaac. He could see a few inputs, but he had no clue what any of them would do. It was unlikely that any were dangerous, even if a cursory examination of them was what opened such a grotesque gallery in the first place. After all, it was just a data terminal. Worst case scenario, he accidentally erased something, and there was no way a deletion would be anything but one of the last two input prompts. Maybe if he fiddled with the device enough times, he'd be able to find some usable information.
What else could he do but press each input in order, taking care only to avoid the last ones on the list? It was the only way he would gain any headway in this research. Knowledge was power, and he would need all the power he could get to survive his time the D-Reaper's sphere. Braving horrifying sights and confusing words was a small price to pay to make it to his friends in one peace.
Well, girlfriend. And brother.
"If you can call it learning," Isaac remarked, dismissive of the Ebemon's statement. "Looks more like it's eating to me. What's it gonna do when it's 'learned' too much, and there's nothing left?
You know, why are you here, anyway? How did you get here?"
Maybe that was a touch hypocritical of Isaac, stuck in a similar situation, to ask. However, whereas his gut reaction suggested exasperation, his brain realized that maybe this question would prove an unexpected boon. If there was a way in, there had to be a way out. If he could decipher these crazy ramblings, finding it could be so much easier.
|
|
|
Post by darkblade on Jul 20, 2016 3:31:56 GMT
Yes: Digimon definitely weren't supposed to look like whatever mess Isaac was seeing. Old, decayed, eaten away... none of these were natural states for these creatures, and yet here they were, caught up in the red mess before them, unclear if they could still even be considered live or dead. And as grotesque as it was, the Ebemon quickly moved through more and more screens, gleaning over them like they were the most important encyclopedia in the world.
But what else what else was there to do? As Isaac would run through the inputs, he would find that about half the buttons were simply inaccessible. A particular one that worked replaced the picture of the Digimon with its grid-wire frame, as well as the condition of its dilapidated core, usually near the center of its body. Another gave a percentage, over 50%, that seemed to correlate with just how much of the Digimon wasn't there. And the percentage would be slowly increasing, a 'progress bar' of sorts.
Aside from numbers, everything else would be in an intelligible language, not even translating properly to Digital speak, almost as if the D-Reaper had its own, thick coding language. The effort of translating it would ultimately boil down to the ultimate game of pick-and-swap, something that would take a highly-designed supercomputer to-
"Isaac, you need me to help you with that?"
Oh, speak of the devil! The Ebemon didn't seem to take note of it - perhaps only Isaac could hear Datamon- "Yeah, don't worry. I'm speaking into your mind on the other side. Old bigand ugly won't hear a thing."
That mystery solved, the Ebemon turned, hearing Isaac's chiding. "Once it learns, there's no need. Gone, no more: it will learn all, by making sure there's nothing more. Nothing more, nothing less, all in this world..." He paused. "How I got here? My, it let me in. Let me in, after it saw me scanning one of them myself. And now it lets me look at it all. Every Digimon, every tree, every rock it processes... oh, its simply brilliant!
And he wouldn't take it any other way! Looking towards the Impmon, he curiously tilted his head. "Wait... aren't you the same? No... no, how are you here?"
|
|
|
Post by Elliot and Isaac Sunderland on Jul 20, 2016 6:43:57 GMT
Isaac had to suppress a disgusted noise. These weren't still images. The images, or more accurately videos, were still moving, developing, and changing. The were decaying. The bar on the bottom made it obvious, as it tracked the integrity of each Digimon's code with a cold, clinical precision. The fact that the core was already dilapidated meant that this wasn't as simple as touch D-Reaper, get burned, either. It meant that the D-Reaper's goo seemed to bore into the Digimon's very being, the decay of their bodies seemingly a consequence of their core's own rotting. Would he and the others need to be checked out after this, in case the goo had gone past surface level and already started to eat away at them? What would happen to his real, very human body? Touching the D-Reaper seemed like more bad news than Isaac could have ever predicted, provided that his theorizing was correct. And the progress bars had yet to be completed, either, so it seemed whatever studying the D-Reaper was doing had yet to be completed. Perhaps it, too, was studying the archives. Or perhaps things were a bit more real time than Isaac figured. So many ideas were running through Isaac's head right now. They all paled in comparison to the loudest:
Oh, fuck, I'm watching a snuff film.
He could barely hear Datamon poking into his brain over the pounding of his own thoughts, his attempts at rational analysis and situational awareness giving way to a solid wall of holy craps. Whatever mechanism Datamon used to speak with Isaac brain-to-brain, there was no way he wouldn't notice the boy's distress and disgust. He winced away from the screens for a second, as if thinking that the decay was happening right this second made it a special kind of taboo. He wanted to run, but there was no way to escape. He wanted to fling himself at the sicko enjoying the footage, but he knew he'd have to go all the way to Orochimon just to stand a ghost of a chance. Even then, against a full-fledged Mega, he knew it would be futile. For once in his life he tried to force his burning blood to stay still, almost physically pained by this self-affirmation of helplessness. The more he learned about Ebemon, the more the echo chamber started to look preferable.
Thankfully, though, Datamon managed to break through Isaac's thoughts. He was offering to translate, a possibility that both terrified and interested him. On one hand, he would have a ton of information to share with Datamon, as well as the ability to bring up his own theories about the D-Reaper. Being able to filter his thoughts through somebody who actually had book smarts, along with knowledge of how Digimon worked, would be critical, and Ebemon's files likely didn't exist anywhere else. The resulting knowledge could be a groundbreaking weapon against the D-Reaper. On the other hand, the videos were horrific enough. Did he really want to read through the sickening commentary sure to accompany them? He was unsure his constitution could handle it, when even the videos in their own right made him want to start heaving.
Nevertheless, part of being a spirit user was stepping up to the plate. This, too, was his role. Shaking his head slightly to gather his bearings, he tried to focus his thoughts into the back of his head. Yes, please. This could be our one big shot.
The idea of the D-Reaper collaborating with any creature but its own minions left Isaac even more confused. If it willingly accepted a collaborator into this sphere, then this sphere must have been pretty critical. After all, wouldn't the Ebemon otherwise make for a perfectly "interesting" target to "study?" No, it must have been necessary for something, and this sphere must have been where it kept necessary things.
Did that mean Isaac was one of those necessary things? He tried not to let his fear at that revelation show.
Isaac tried to force his thoughts back on track. Three things were clear. One, this Ebemon was a madman who poked at dead bodies and let the agent killing them seduce him. Two, either these Digimon had been decaying for a long time or the D-Reaper's temptations acted really fast. Three, he wasn't going to die here, or at the very least not this second. Bereft of options and waiting for Datamon to run the translation, he figured he might as well try to get all of the information out of Ebemon that he possibly could. Fortunately, while his strengths seemed increasingly few, he was at least a damn good actor.
"I'm not sure," Isaac said, his tone surprisingly genuine. Then again, lies were easier to tell when they were buried in kernels of truth, and Isaac had enough kernels of confusion to grow an entire cornfield. "I don't know much about the Reaper, or about this place at all. Could you tell me more? I bet one making such genius records would be able to shed a lot of light on this."
Isaac was screaming internally at that last sentence. But at least Datamon would see he had a plan!
|
|
|
Post by darkblade on Jul 20, 2016 23:46:33 GMT
Oh yes: Isaac's disgust was more than evident, at least on the Datamon's end. Though he didn't really have a clear idea exactly what Isaac was thinking, the mental waves back in reality painted a stark picture: one of rage, of interest, and above all, of abject horror of what he was witnessing. Datamon could see this, as well as the scene through Isaac's eyes. The only disconnect was the specific thoughts that were in Isaac's head.
Thankfully, Datamon wasn't completely daft. Hearing his request, the machine would reply: "Keep it up just a little longer, kid. Hopefully a chance will come." At that, a slight blue haze would come over Isaac's eyes, the mechanical whir of Datamon's processors taking over. The symbols before the imp would be translated twice: first, into the proper language of the Digital World, and then into English, the language he seemed most comfortable with. For how stark the images were, the data produced from them seemed very disjointed. At one point, it spoke of the properties of Puppetmon's hammer; at another, the elasticity of a particular part of an elbow. The ordering was entirely random, as if it was just being thrown up in the order this red mass decided to consume it.
"Odd... I'll compare this to some records we have. I'll be dark for a bit."
For now, Isaac would be able to read the files in perfect detail (though perhaps that was a secret to keep from the Ebemon just a few feet away). The alien Digimon tilted its head, a pleased 'beep' given from him. Isaac had taken a good route: if nothing else, this mega was vain and proud of his work! "Oh, I am but a recorder at this point. This Reaper, far stronger than any computer I've seen. Far more efficient, able to process data like none other!" He looked over at the screens, fanning through them once more.
"It breaks it down and records its purpose. It then holds what makes it stronger, and... 'discards' the rest. Evolving. Almost living, even..." Was the reaper not alive to begin with? Not leaving room for questions, he went on:
"It lacks the limits of the normal world. All it wants to do? Is see the world for what it is, to understand it, and to... 'record' it, in its optimal form."
|
|
|
Post by Elliot and Isaac Sunderland on Jul 24, 2016 17:09:29 GMT
It ain't easy, Isaac muttered in the back of his head at Datamon's advice. Keeping it up a bit longer was hard enough, even if he could focus on the English data now instead of the gruesome video feed. Keeping it up for a lot longer, as it seemed he would have to with Datamon ducking out to run information comparisons? That would be a lot more difficult. Having Datamon's voice in the back of his head was a small bit of comfort, a reminder that he wasn't really alone in this situation. With Datamon going dark, now he would be plunged right back into solitude. Maybe later on he'd ask Datamon to wire Maia or Elliot in, but for now this was going to be something he did alone.
Well, not quite alone. There was the Ebemon, who seemed very pleased with his sucking up. Flattery really was the fastest way into someone's heart, wasn't it? Unfortunately, there wasn't nearly enough research for a lengthy tirade. Isaac was only able to buy a minute or two with that question, feeling a chill run down his spine at the idea of this Digimon throwing away every ambition to be the appendix of a far greater being. This was a Mega, one of the most rare and powerful beings in the Digital World, and here it was freely admitting it was little more than a scribe. No, a data recorder. An object could have served this mighty being's purpose.
Isaac was even more thankful he didn't let "Maia" seduce him. If he had receded even an inch deeper into the D-Reaper's clutches, would he have been reduced to a similarly pitiful state?
He tried to glean the Reaper's end goals from what Ebemon was saying. It seemed like it was trying to create . . . something. A perfect world? A perfect being? Suddenly, the clusters of data it absorbed made sense. Each bit of disconnected data was simply another aspect that it deemed necessary for its glorious evolution. A lot of it still left Isaac confused. Why just the tiniest part of an elbow? Was the death of countless Digimon really worth it just for something so inconsequential? Then he realized what the Ebemon's last sentence meant.
Who cared about limits or restraints, when one's end goal was to consume the entire world?
He tried to keep his composure, his Impmon gloves hiding the white-knuckled grip of his fingers. "And where are we?" he asked, hoping his inquiries could buy just a bit more time. He needed plans, and each one he came up with was discarded more quickly than the last. Escape wasn't on the table. Sitting around and doing nothing would just get him killed. Exploring the central sphere would likely get him lost, or plunge him right back into the vision. Maybe sowing dissent among the ranks? With how enthralled Ebemon was by the D-Reaper, any argument Isaac could think of would likely be dismissed with ease, but Isaac saw playing to the Mega's lingering ego as his last potential option.
He could think on it later. Maybe it'd be good to run it past Datamon when he returns, too. Who better than a supercomputer to proofread his ideas?
|
|
|
Post by darkblade on Jul 25, 2016 21:58:04 GMT
"Ah, where are we... a good question, a good question." The machine chirped, giving an almost idle glance around the ever-encompassing white ball around him. "Where we are, is the consciousness. Of what the entity wants to preserve, and be most aware, ends up here. Oh, you must be absolutely blessed, yourself, to end up in this place!"
Indeed, Ebemon's perception could not be any further from Isaac's hopes, but it spoke some truth, the machines excited sputtering proceeding in similar fashion. "Here, the Reaper can create thought. It can observe those inside acutely, through layers and layers of data. It can test, it can learn, and it can use anything inside its kernel, to its own discretion. The constructs it makes, are built of those in here. I wonder what it will use of you..."
Yeah, that last sentence was said with absolute wonder, digital eyes scanning over the rookie, almost anticipating what kind of beast that would end up being created. Perhaps thankfully, a distraction would buzz up in Isaac's ears, the Datamon's voice flowing through his head. "Oi, kid, its as I thought. There's nothing the Ebemon discovered that's outside the realm of what we already know... in fact, some of the data seems inaccurate. Well, not only inaccurate, but old. But think about where you are: that makes sense. This is a dreamscape of a creature who existed long ago; there will be limitations of what can be done." Honestly, it would make sense enough to anyone with such an analytical mind.
But the Datamon put forth a new idea, right in Isaac's head. "But... from what we know? Its incredibly likely that this entire landscape, this whole world you're in, is a product of the machine in front of you. Or, to be more specific, this whole place is his dream. Be very, very careful."
As that bit of information would be imparted to Isaac, the Ebemon would near, reaching around his back, plucking another screen from behind. "Ah, a new one. A Gazimon, this time..."
The Datamon could only imagine Isaac's reaction if the Ebemon instead said 'a Veemon'.
|
|
|
Post by Elliot and Isaac Sunderland on Aug 1, 2016 22:17:44 GMT
Great. Not only was a lot of the information Isaac getting disturbing, but it was also very inaccurate. Of all the complicated concepts currently being discussed, that was the main thing Isaac was able to grasp from the conversation. He tried to look at the silver lining of this situation. Now they would be acutely aware of the D-Reaper's limitations, and what it failed to understand about a situation. However, it completely escaped Isaac how any of this could help. Maybe if they challenged it to an arm wrestling competition, they could get the real best elbow joint to beat the D-Reaper's outdated elbow joints. Truly, Isaac's recon was making huge contributions to their team effort.
The rest of the conversation was a lot harder to grasp. They were already inside of a dream, but now they were inside the consciousness of the dream? There was some Inception-level bullshit going on here, and it wasn't helping Isaac keep track of the sequence of events any further. This was all inside the head of Ebemon, and this in particular was the consciousness of the D-Reaper, latched on like a parasite? That seemed the most likely way to put everything together, and briefly Isaac wondered if he could give the D-Reaper one major headache by trying to wreck the place.
Oh, who was he kidding? Not even his strongest forms could put even a dent in this cage. He'd be better off trying to attack Ebemon, and that in itself was an atrocious idea. Even as his blood boiled and his patience grew thin, he kept telling himself that patience was the key here. One wrong step, and his chances of seeing Elliot and Maia again would go from slim to none.
He only had one question left for Datamon. What happens if we wake it up?
It wasn't easy juggling his attention between two phases of reality, but hearing about the new arrival snapped Isaac back into focus at the kernel. Thankfully, the D-Reaper hadn't snagged one of his friends. He was equal parts relieved at their safety and horrified at the prospect of seeing a "fresh" digestion going on. He thought fast, trying to find something, anything at all to change the subject to.
"How does it make the constructs?"
He probably could've picked a better one.
|
|
|
Post by darkblade on Aug 4, 2016 19:40:52 GMT
What happened if they woke it up?
"I doubt that would even be possible in a situation like this. With him buried this far under the Sea of Blood, there wouldn't be a consciousness to wake up to. But if the consciousness is severed overall, probably the forceful release of your minds back into your original bodies while the entity relaxes back into a normal state." It was clear that the Datamon could only speak in theory; it was up to Isaac to decide if that little bit of information was helpful or not.
Thankfully, Isaac's seeming absent-mindedness would go largely unnoticed by the machine mega, already so enticed by this new chart that everything else fell by the wayside. That didn't mean that he didn't have time to answer these gems of questions the Impmon had! "Oh, that's the best part! It constructs data based on what it has comprehended to that point, runs 'tests' internally, and those that show promise or more success are given form. I can't say how exactly, but it appears the mass itself is able to produce and adapt these creatures based on the input data - what you see here, of course - and the output data, or how it works in the field. Self replicating and self improving... truly an ultimate life!"
"Or, you know, technological apocalypse with self-building robots." Datamon perked up in Isaac's ear, again. "For what its worth, kid, your friends have managed to fend off a rather large construct. They may be coming after this kernel soon enough."
|
|
|
Post by Elliot and Isaac Sunderland on Aug 29, 2016 21:27:03 GMT
So Isaac was in the nightmares of a dead Digimon walking, which were now completely intertwined with a sci-fi author's Lovecraftian horror story. And it sounded like severing the consciousness would just end their one shot at stopping the D-Reaper, instead of dealing it a vicious blow. Isaac was starting to run out of ideas on what to do, other than keep biding time. After all, it sounded like freedom could have been just around the corner. I'm so glad they're okay, he thought, his relief palpable. I just wish I could've done more to help.
At least he was gaining more intel on the Reaper, which he was constantly keeping on his mind so that Datamon could pick it out. They wouldn't know a ton about its nature, but at least they would know more about some integral aspects. Such as everything the Ebemon just told him. He did his best to look interested, even if he had the feeling Ebemon would've been perfectly content just hearing himself talk. "So it's basically cloning everything it wants, but in its own image, and leaves the rest to be discarded?" He shuddered imagining just what sorts of Digital chimeras had evolved into the beings that Isaac and his friends had previously fought. Evolved? No, more like been twisted. "Did it use anything from you?"
Of course, the more worrying question on Isaac's mind was whether it would use anything from him.
|
|
|
Post by darkblade on Aug 30, 2016 23:24:53 GMT
"Discarded? Oh, heavens no... bulk data is still useful for something. No part goes to waste!"
Well, that settled one thing: the D-Reaper, at least in part, was a construct of whatever Digimon and life got caught up in its grasp. Rather than be slowed down by this fact or reviled at all, the Ebemon answered with the simple giddiness that a scientist without limits could easily muster. If he had a moment to think, to see this rationally, the machine might have caught on that Isaac's questions were oddly specific, leading him on, like some unseen hand was guiding him from afar. But the mega didn't think that at all! Rather, he was elated to have another willing, curious, and scientific mind to rattle this off to. Isaac's obvious discomfort didn't even register to him!
"What its using from me? Oh, good question, good question... I think it's using me to help organize data. I'm an expert in Digimon construction... I've noticed that its processing speed has gradually increased the longer I've been here. Its grown oh so much! Oh, I wonder how it will be in the end... I wonder how it will use you!" He brought Isaac's silent fear to the forefront, and at once, the machine turned, looking him from the tip of the ear to the bottom of his feet.
"Mm? An Impmon... curious, curious! Brought to the epicenter, fully in the consciousness of this creature! It had to have brought you here for some reason... a condition, a rare type, maybe a partner Digimon?" He neared, and stared closely, but even an inch away from his face, he did not touch. After all, he didn't want to interfere with whatever the D-Reaper had planned! "Supple rookie, minimal damage, amazing specimen..."
"Sheesh. Sounds like he'd cut you open if he could. I don't like the way this is turning, kid..."
"Ah, only fair, dear Impmon. Tell me some things about yourself. Why do you think it brought you here?"
|
|
|
Post by Elliot and Isaac Sunderland on Aug 31, 2016 1:30:22 GMT
The more Isaac learned about this thing, the worse he loathed it. It was basically made out of melted Digimon flesh, and if what Ebemon had to say was true it was only getting faster at production. If Ebemon wasn't stopped soon, the Reaper's slow spread would soon become a cancerous advance. And yet, what was Isaac supposed to do? He was just a Rookie. Even at his strongest, he could brush against Ultimate. What chance would he stand against a Mega, especially one on his home turf that the D-Reaper would very much like to keep alive? If he tried anything, he'd be surely ripped to bits by some matter of security system. Anything he did would have to be subtle, but even that risked making things all too dangerous for him.
Briefly, he wondered if the Reaper could hear everything he was thinking, and was simply humoring him to watch him squirm.
And then any thought of subversion was quashed as Ebemon turned its eye toward him. The cybernetic alien had gotten far too close for comfort, intimately looking over Isaac as he did his best not to look intimidated. The easy part was easing his shivers, forcing his mind to tether to thoughts of Maia to ease his nerves. Just the idea of seeing her again was enough to help him relax, if only because he knew the alternative was death. The harder part was attempting to look proud as Ebemon poked and prodded at him, hovering mere inches from his face and commenting about him like a lamb on its way to the butcher's. He straightened his spine and put up his best smirk, trying to look like he owned his value. Even if that value was as meat for the harvest.
Poor Datamon's headset would practically turn to static from the mix of profanity and scrambled thoughts currently pouring into it.
Isaac was between a rock and a hard place. If he downplayed himself, he'd be dismantled as trash material. If he talked himself up, he'd be forced to put his talents to the test. And if he dared mention he was human? Isaac didn't even want to think about what would happen then. He took in a deep breath, closing his eyes as he tried to pool his thoughts, before snapping back into focus with an answer in mind.
"I'm but a humble wanderer. I've seen many places, and endured many battles. I've stared some of the most fearsome fighters dead in the eye. I've braved the Dark Area, not once but several times. Maybe it's talent. Maybe it's guts. Maybe it's all just luck, or a little of all three. But until now I have never been part of any big plan," he said. "I doubt I could ever understand the will of a being so grand, so beyond my comprehension. And yet, you seem to translate its desires so fluently.
What do you think it wants from me?"
In his attempt of stroking the egoes of host and parasite alike, Isaac had asked a question he really didn't want to hear answered. And yet, if it got Ebemon on another ramble, it could at least buy him some time. He would much rather hear about the many, many horrible fates in store for him than actually experience them.
|
|
|
Post by darkblade on Aug 31, 2016 1:50:18 GMT
"I don't know, kid... it might have been better to say nothing at all."
Datamon's concern echoed in the back of Isaac's head, as the Ebemon gave a curious tilt of the head. A grand adventurer, who didn't hesitate in the face of fear? One experienced with the lay of the land? The D-Reaper was full of these types, and there was nothing so obviously extraordinary about him!
Though, Isaac's last question earned a pleased chirp from the machine. "Oh, I can't say! But... perhaps I can ask..."
The answer was probably far more immediate than Isaac would have preferred, but Ebemon gave him no chance to give a rebuttal. Giving just the smallest step back, Ebemon's eyes pulsed a familiar red, green lines of code and data stretching over his eyes. It seemed like a stretch of the imagination, but:
"Is he actually... talking with it?"
"Hm? Oh, I see... I see!" Words echoing out through the kernel, the Ebemon's eyes focused right on Isaac, and in a flash, it would give a dash forward! It aimed to pin him right against the kernel wall, with his wired arm, a single free cord stretching above, a spark visible at the end. "I should... yes, yes!"
That cord would shoot forth, aiming right for Isaac's chest, trying to get good contact! "I should see for myself!"
|
|
|
Post by Elliot and Isaac Sunderland on Aug 31, 2016 2:33:22 GMT
Isaac had regretted his words the second he opened his mouth. That was bad enough. Then Ebemon's all-too-eager response marked the point where a bad idea became a worse one. Isaac was caught blatantly off-guard, leaving Isaac pinned right against the walls of the structure by one of the alien's twisting, wiry arms. The nerves in his thoughts gave way to outright panic, both an understandable response and a huge obstruction to any of Datamon's attempts at helping. The two voices in his head argued for flight or fight, even when Isaac knew both of them were impossible. He could die without resisting, or he could die even harder trying to fight for his life.
What would even happen if he were to be killed here? Would he just wake up in the boat with a killer headache? Amnesia? Coma? A vegetative state? Isaac didn't even want to think about it.
And yet, that cord was hovering right in front of his chest. That was when Isaac decided he wouldn't give Ebemon the satisfaction. One minute he remained inside of Ebemon's hand. The next he was gone, the wire crashing right through hot air.
Explosive Warp was a risky maneuver in this case. If Ebemon didn't like that, it would likely tick him off. And yet, would such a weak explosion do anything more than tickle the mega? As Isaac milled over the consequences of his risky escape plan he spun a bit to the side, trying to cancel out the dizziness from his warp with dizziness in the other direction. The less nauseous he was, the less likely he'd be to screw up a critical dodge.
"And that's demonstration number one!" he choked out, barely capable of keeping the stutter in his voice down at this point. Normally, he'd make a quip about having many more where that came from, but he was starting to learn the value of keeping his mouth shut after what happened the last time.
You know, five seconds ago.
|
|
|