MPC 48A Obligation in Parallel (Complete)
Mar 27, 2018 0:57:59 GMT
Post by Hiroyo Oda on Mar 27, 2018 0:57:59 GMT
MPC Name: Obligation in Parallel
MPC Number: 48 C
Reward Requested: Money please
The grave isn’t surprising even if it does mark their fears with a certainty they had both been hoping they would never have to face. The woman’s words about an accident, about how she came to hold their digivice are a distant but still noticed buzz as the twins stare at the name engraved in rock.
“I’ll just leave you alone for a little.” Her withdrawal from the immediate area is a relief even as Roger dreads the silence.
She has their partner’s digivice. She might not have been driving the vehicle that hit him but Roger can’t help but join her in pinning the blame for Isao’s death on her shoulders like a cape. Small sparks leap quick and furious along his body. His antenna twitch as he swings his head slowly, deliberately towards where she’s walking.
“Do not.” It’s the first words Morgan has said since they first got on the Trailmon to the human world and Roger swings his head to face him with the same menace.
“She didn’t even try to find the guilty party afterwards!” He snarls. All at once the sparks on his skin multiply and break into full on streaks of electricity that ripple along his body. His fury made manifest.
“She could not. She was hospitalized too.”
“Yeah, for alcohol withdrawl. If she wasn’t so weak minded in the first place then-“
“That is enough.” Morgan cuts him off, a finality to his voice that Roger respects.. The Fanbeemon lifts his head and turns it toward Roger, his antenna twitching against the Kunemon’s in a language only the twins speak.
‘Calm yourself. I am here. We’ll take care of this.’ They say, so clearly that he can hear Morgan’s voice in his head. Roger grinds his beak in agitation.
“He wants us to protect her.” He grits out, his voice more its normal tone instead of the near-yell it was before. Morgan’s reassuring touches still and Roger can feel the bee slump a little where he stands.
“I know, and we will. Even if you can’t look at her without anger right now, we will follow his last request.” Roger hates the words because he knows their true. He takes a deep breath though, because his brother is right. Slowly he pushes the anger down, focuses on it and prunes it into something he can deal with later. He grounds himself as Isao taught him to a life time ago.
How literal those words are stings.
They’ll do what Isao has requested of them, just as they always have. Still, he won’t let Morgan off easily for pointing out the truth.
“I mean, I can’t even look at her.” He quips, nudging one of Morgan’s shoulders with one of his. His voice edges upwards into a plaintive whine. “I don’t even know if she’s hot or not. Morgan, Morgan, you’ve gotta tell me what she looks like!”
“…” Roger’s jaws drop open a little further in a grin, his antenna twitching with the particular air of smugness that Isao always wondered at. The stillness is so palpable Roger can feel it, but it’s better than the sorrow that had come before from both the twins and the girl.
“C’mon man, how am I suppose to gauge what I’m suppose to protect her against if I don’t like, know if she has three eyes or a monoboob or what not?” He presses his luck and himself against Morgan’s side, his antenna tapping against the Fanbeemon in a needy pattern that says ’Tell me tell me tell me.’ on an infinite, soundless repeat. Morgan sighs, loud and drawn out as he pushes away from the Kunemon. Roger can feel when he takes to the air, the subtle shift in Morgan’s nervous system as he puts his wings to work buffeting Roger with air.
It probably wasn’t intentional, but Roger will take it as such regardless.
“Like a normal human, Roger.” Morgan says once he’s airborne, then he turns in midair and goes in search of the girl.
Isao might want the twins to watch over the girl, but Roger has a duty to protect his brother as well.
Roger burns with rage but Morgan has always run cold. Roger knows the damage that cold can cause mentally. He’ll keep Morgan away from the edge of the cliff called sorrow with his usual antics.
The solution is simple: he’ll keep a close eye on Morgan’s mental state, and use what resources he can spare to keep the girl out of any serious harm.
That will simply have to be enough.
They gather in front of the grave again. All three of them his time, with none of the tension that existed between them before. There’s a few insults loosed between the human and the Kunemon; quick and casual and delivered on a layer of understanding and mutual respect and trust that turns the words into names of endearment.
It’s vastly different from the first time the three gathered here together. The air is almost festive in nature as Hiroyo sits on the path with her legs crossed and Roger crawls off the grave to wind his way up her back to perch on his shoulder.
The woman laughs as he tickles behind her ear with his antenna and pours a little more sake into Morgan’s saucers. The bee dips his head in thanks and manages to stagger where he stands much to the amusement of the other two. There’s three saucers on the pathway. Morgan’s has been emptied and refilled at least four times as the trio talked to their deadman, scolding Isao’s choices and recounting their adventures by turns. Roger is pretty sure his bowl has been filled only twice, but he’s breaks off launching a joke to Morgan when he feels Hiroyo reaching beneath him to top his saucer up.
“Have you been doing that the whole night, you sneak?” He demands, feigning indignation that she managed to out play him, the one who doesn’t need eyes to see!
“Yep! Guess you must be feeling pretty relaxed. Better hope a bird doesn’t come by looking’ for a snack.” He doesn’t have to feel her bouncing her eyebrows at him or the way she’s grinning to know she is doing both of those things. He has learned, through long association and observation, that when there is that much smugness in Oda Hiroyo’s voice it shows quite plainly on her face.
Morgan has started giggling in the background so Roger plays it up for all he’s worth.
“You, you witch! You’re planning to get us both drunk and embarrass us both! Probably with stupid dresses and hats!”
“That’s mean, Rog.” The bee slurs, and Roger is struck with the sudden realization that Hiroyo has been slipping him more to drink as well! She’s slyer than he originally gave her credit for but he approves, it’s good for the Fanbeemon to loosen up every now and then. “She’s got, she’s got nice hats. Not enough boobs for anyone ‘but that dude though.”
“Hey! Rude! Uncalled for! I’m going to cut you off! I thought you were helpful!” Roger snickers a bit because even while drunk Morgan has amazing accuracy. He’s content, listening to them bicker. A thought occurs to him and he twists so that his beak is jabbing into her cheekbone, right by her ear.
“Hey! What was that for? You’re both horrible!” There’s no real heat to those words, if there was then it’d be quickly smothered by the fondness covering everything. Morgan breaks off giggling again and Roger wishes he had thumbs so he could record the noise on Hiroyo’s phone for later. That brings his wandering mind back on track.
“You, you haven’t drank anything, have you?” He keeps his question as quiet as he can because he has a suspicion that has wiggled its way into his head that he doesn’t want Morgan to catch. The bee, even drunk as he is, would feel hideously guilty if he realized.
She smiles in response-and there’s that smugness again, thick enough to make him want to bite-and sets the bottle of sake down so she can reach up gently tap-tap-tap her version of the twins’ language along his side.
’I’ve got you. Take it easy.’
He closes his beak and rotates back so he can lean his cheek against hers, for balance of course because he is suddenly warm and fuzzy throughout from the liquor. Static fuzzes along the point of contact, not enough to harm, just a brief acknowledgement before Roger pushes himself forward to slither-fall off her shoulder and onto the ground with a loud “Banzai!” He tips her dish in the process, one of his legs landing so that the saucer flips through the air in an arc, the liquid within gleaming in the light of the candles before it goes splashing down on everyone.
He can picture it brilliantly in his mind
“Roger!”
“Hey!"
He cackles as he hears the saucer crack against the ground because Morgan isn’t the only one who can aim. He skitters away from the other two, silently congratulating him on having memorized the position of everyone’s dishes by touch before! He’s lost track of Morgan’s dish, the sounds of it being scooted across the flagstones lost in the sound of laughter.
Still the fact that Hiroyo’s dish hasn’t been moved is further confirmation of the suspicion she never confirmed. He can guess the reason why, and he’ll continue to protect her from the threats in her mind as long as he’s able.
As he works his way up the back of Isao’s grave he realizes that in the very beginning all three of them were wrong. He drags himself up on top of the grave despite the protests from the other two and turns his face towards them so they can see him grinning and smug.
Hiroyo can protect herself now. That doesn’t mean their little trio is going to split up here though. They don’t protect each other because of a last request that they risks their bodies and their minds for each other.
Doing the bare minimum is no longer enough, and Roger is struck by the certainty that this- laughing, noisy, not always walking step in step but always together-is what Isao wanted all along.
'Mission achieved, cowboy.’
Word count: 1729
MPC Number: 48 C
Reward Requested: Money please
The grave isn’t surprising even if it does mark their fears with a certainty they had both been hoping they would never have to face. The woman’s words about an accident, about how she came to hold their digivice are a distant but still noticed buzz as the twins stare at the name engraved in rock.
“I’ll just leave you alone for a little.” Her withdrawal from the immediate area is a relief even as Roger dreads the silence.
She has their partner’s digivice. She might not have been driving the vehicle that hit him but Roger can’t help but join her in pinning the blame for Isao’s death on her shoulders like a cape. Small sparks leap quick and furious along his body. His antenna twitch as he swings his head slowly, deliberately towards where she’s walking.
“Do not.” It’s the first words Morgan has said since they first got on the Trailmon to the human world and Roger swings his head to face him with the same menace.
“She didn’t even try to find the guilty party afterwards!” He snarls. All at once the sparks on his skin multiply and break into full on streaks of electricity that ripple along his body. His fury made manifest.
“She could not. She was hospitalized too.”
“Yeah, for alcohol withdrawl. If she wasn’t so weak minded in the first place then-“
“That is enough.” Morgan cuts him off, a finality to his voice that Roger respects.. The Fanbeemon lifts his head and turns it toward Roger, his antenna twitching against the Kunemon’s in a language only the twins speak.
‘Calm yourself. I am here. We’ll take care of this.’ They say, so clearly that he can hear Morgan’s voice in his head. Roger grinds his beak in agitation.
“He wants us to protect her.” He grits out, his voice more its normal tone instead of the near-yell it was before. Morgan’s reassuring touches still and Roger can feel the bee slump a little where he stands.
“I know, and we will. Even if you can’t look at her without anger right now, we will follow his last request.” Roger hates the words because he knows their true. He takes a deep breath though, because his brother is right. Slowly he pushes the anger down, focuses on it and prunes it into something he can deal with later. He grounds himself as Isao taught him to a life time ago.
How literal those words are stings.
They’ll do what Isao has requested of them, just as they always have. Still, he won’t let Morgan off easily for pointing out the truth.
“I mean, I can’t even look at her.” He quips, nudging one of Morgan’s shoulders with one of his. His voice edges upwards into a plaintive whine. “I don’t even know if she’s hot or not. Morgan, Morgan, you’ve gotta tell me what she looks like!”
“…” Roger’s jaws drop open a little further in a grin, his antenna twitching with the particular air of smugness that Isao always wondered at. The stillness is so palpable Roger can feel it, but it’s better than the sorrow that had come before from both the twins and the girl.
“C’mon man, how am I suppose to gauge what I’m suppose to protect her against if I don’t like, know if she has three eyes or a monoboob or what not?” He presses his luck and himself against Morgan’s side, his antenna tapping against the Fanbeemon in a needy pattern that says ’Tell me tell me tell me.’ on an infinite, soundless repeat. Morgan sighs, loud and drawn out as he pushes away from the Kunemon. Roger can feel when he takes to the air, the subtle shift in Morgan’s nervous system as he puts his wings to work buffeting Roger with air.
It probably wasn’t intentional, but Roger will take it as such regardless.
“Like a normal human, Roger.” Morgan says once he’s airborne, then he turns in midair and goes in search of the girl.
Isao might want the twins to watch over the girl, but Roger has a duty to protect his brother as well.
Roger burns with rage but Morgan has always run cold. Roger knows the damage that cold can cause mentally. He’ll keep Morgan away from the edge of the cliff called sorrow with his usual antics.
The solution is simple: he’ll keep a close eye on Morgan’s mental state, and use what resources he can spare to keep the girl out of any serious harm.
That will simply have to be enough.
They gather in front of the grave again. All three of them his time, with none of the tension that existed between them before. There’s a few insults loosed between the human and the Kunemon; quick and casual and delivered on a layer of understanding and mutual respect and trust that turns the words into names of endearment.
It’s vastly different from the first time the three gathered here together. The air is almost festive in nature as Hiroyo sits on the path with her legs crossed and Roger crawls off the grave to wind his way up her back to perch on his shoulder.
The woman laughs as he tickles behind her ear with his antenna and pours a little more sake into Morgan’s saucers. The bee dips his head in thanks and manages to stagger where he stands much to the amusement of the other two. There’s three saucers on the pathway. Morgan’s has been emptied and refilled at least four times as the trio talked to their deadman, scolding Isao’s choices and recounting their adventures by turns. Roger is pretty sure his bowl has been filled only twice, but he’s breaks off launching a joke to Morgan when he feels Hiroyo reaching beneath him to top his saucer up.
“Have you been doing that the whole night, you sneak?” He demands, feigning indignation that she managed to out play him, the one who doesn’t need eyes to see!
“Yep! Guess you must be feeling pretty relaxed. Better hope a bird doesn’t come by looking’ for a snack.” He doesn’t have to feel her bouncing her eyebrows at him or the way she’s grinning to know she is doing both of those things. He has learned, through long association and observation, that when there is that much smugness in Oda Hiroyo’s voice it shows quite plainly on her face.
Morgan has started giggling in the background so Roger plays it up for all he’s worth.
“You, you witch! You’re planning to get us both drunk and embarrass us both! Probably with stupid dresses and hats!”
“That’s mean, Rog.” The bee slurs, and Roger is struck with the sudden realization that Hiroyo has been slipping him more to drink as well! She’s slyer than he originally gave her credit for but he approves, it’s good for the Fanbeemon to loosen up every now and then. “She’s got, she’s got nice hats. Not enough boobs for anyone ‘but that dude though.”
“Hey! Rude! Uncalled for! I’m going to cut you off! I thought you were helpful!” Roger snickers a bit because even while drunk Morgan has amazing accuracy. He’s content, listening to them bicker. A thought occurs to him and he twists so that his beak is jabbing into her cheekbone, right by her ear.
“Hey! What was that for? You’re both horrible!” There’s no real heat to those words, if there was then it’d be quickly smothered by the fondness covering everything. Morgan breaks off giggling again and Roger wishes he had thumbs so he could record the noise on Hiroyo’s phone for later. That brings his wandering mind back on track.
“You, you haven’t drank anything, have you?” He keeps his question as quiet as he can because he has a suspicion that has wiggled its way into his head that he doesn’t want Morgan to catch. The bee, even drunk as he is, would feel hideously guilty if he realized.
She smiles in response-and there’s that smugness again, thick enough to make him want to bite-and sets the bottle of sake down so she can reach up gently tap-tap-tap her version of the twins’ language along his side.
’I’ve got you. Take it easy.’
He closes his beak and rotates back so he can lean his cheek against hers, for balance of course because he is suddenly warm and fuzzy throughout from the liquor. Static fuzzes along the point of contact, not enough to harm, just a brief acknowledgement before Roger pushes himself forward to slither-fall off her shoulder and onto the ground with a loud “Banzai!” He tips her dish in the process, one of his legs landing so that the saucer flips through the air in an arc, the liquid within gleaming in the light of the candles before it goes splashing down on everyone.
He can picture it brilliantly in his mind
“Roger!”
“Hey!"
He cackles as he hears the saucer crack against the ground because Morgan isn’t the only one who can aim. He skitters away from the other two, silently congratulating him on having memorized the position of everyone’s dishes by touch before! He’s lost track of Morgan’s dish, the sounds of it being scooted across the flagstones lost in the sound of laughter.
Still the fact that Hiroyo’s dish hasn’t been moved is further confirmation of the suspicion she never confirmed. He can guess the reason why, and he’ll continue to protect her from the threats in her mind as long as he’s able.
As he works his way up the back of Isao’s grave he realizes that in the very beginning all three of them were wrong. He drags himself up on top of the grave despite the protests from the other two and turns his face towards them so they can see him grinning and smug.
Hiroyo can protect herself now. That doesn’t mean their little trio is going to split up here though. They don’t protect each other because of a last request that they risks their bodies and their minds for each other.
Doing the bare minimum is no longer enough, and Roger is struck by the certainty that this- laughing, noisy, not always walking step in step but always together-is what Isao wanted all along.
'Mission achieved, cowboy.’
Word count: 1729
