Salutations, traveler, and welcome to Digimon Forum Roleplay — the biggest, and one of the most active, roleplaying websites based on the Digimon franchise around the Web! We are a non-canon, alternate universe roleplay where you can take on the role of an original Tamer, Spirit User, Digimon, or Xros General! Look below for important links.
Carrie gulped after the large book slammed onto the ground. Well, she would have, had gotsumon and their variants had the muscles to do so. The intimidating book would have everything she'd need, if she had a way to steal it, like the license to operate a flatbed truck or that rolling log system the Ancient Egyptians had come up with. Before she could put some serious thought into it, the group was swarmed by workers and curious digimon.
She felt a small piece of relief when her first participant wasn't a horrific, monstrous demon or disturbing slug creature, but a gothic-themed D'Arcmon.
"Hello!" she greeted happily. "How can I help you today?"
Of course, on the first day of her first job she had to deal with a crisis of faith. She was no stranger to those, but usually they were her own and after particularly stressful days of work. Normally she'd respond with a big hug, but given she was made of sulfur and was supposed to be pretending to be evil, the normal, heartfelt approach would just paint a large target on her back. She'd need to be more passive and creative to fix this issue. Stupid, lousy, boring moral dilemmas...
"How about we start simply," she began, trying to channel her own therapist from before the whole 'digimon' thing ruined that relationship. "Could you tell me more about you, and how you got to this point in your life?"
Lift the pencil, sure.. The book though? What the heck. Hasenya loved books but this was way too much. If Carrie really wanted to push the topic and try to read that book then Hasenya wouldn't mind at least getting the darn thing. It'd just take a bit of effort.
Pride squadron, huh? Likely to the surprise of everyone back in Ys', Hasenya managed to keep her cool. Folding her arms and thinking for a moment while looking over the large group of Bakemon. "...If words will not solve it, have you considered a tournament? Winner takes leadership." Hasenya suggested, hoping to whatever otherworldly forces that were looking over her group that this bunch didn't decide to hold a "tournament" right there and then in Titamon's office.
"In my own personal opinion, your leader should be someone who is both strong and can communicate well on all your behalf. Good representation and all that, yeah?" Hopefully the solutions and opinions she could propose to the squadron could help them figure this out without further arguing. "You can definitely communicate well and that fancy hat can't be for nothing. Do you know why your squadmates want a change in leadership? Beyond the whole commemoration thing."
"I am a former host of Wrath! I'll call whoever I please a fool, fool!" the Vulkanusmon barked, clenching his fist. The tentacles on the same side of his body flexed simultaneously, each clenching onto their weapon tighter. "But I suppose, in the interests of preventing you from being vaporized, I shall hold my tongue."
At mention of his armaments, a wicked gleam sparking in his eye. "Oh, but of course, of course," he said, eagerly steepling his fingers together. The hand on his leftmost tentacle unscrewed, a roll of blueprints sliding out. He passed them over to Archon. "Do not rip these, whelp. They must be pristine. Now, here you have a replacement for these archaic "walls" Daemon holds so dear," he explained, pointing to the first of his schematics. They seemed to be a series of Digizoid plates, interlocked with a variety of electric lines between them. "Magnetic fields hold the Digizoid together when they stray, but repel them when they pull too closely. This allows us to minimize the amount of Digizoid needed while maximizing the amount of coverage. It should also be more resistant to trauma that would cause our walls to otherwise snap. I also suggest we use plating, instead of wastefully using dense hunks of nigh-unbreakable metal, but according to our "dear leader" that would simply be wasteful.
For offense, I devised these," he continued, pointing to a set of hand-mounted claw blades. "Daemon finds weapons distasteful, yet I had hoped these would convince him he could still get his claws dirty. The grooves within the metal are designed to help saw through opposing Digimon with ease. And these notches to the side are for drawing the data of those impaled, to help fuel Daemon's rampage. Smaller versions, of course, can be fitted to the rest of our forces. Yet the most magnificent set would be for Daemon." He sighed. "Oh, the schematics I weave. It is a pity our sources run so low, or I would have this entire army kitted out in no time."
As Archon listened to the uppity weaponsmith, Carrie was giving an impromptu therapy session. The D'arcmon sighed, sitting down and folding her wings over herself. "When the D-Reaper fallout reached Luminas, I was just a city guard, you know? I didn't agree with everything that happened up there. In fact, I thought a lot of it was kinda crazy sometimes. But I always thought I was doing my best to keep the peace. Then my commander, Angemon, told me that we needed to lock the city down and prepare to fight. Fight! Our own people! I always knew he was stubborn and hard-nosed, but I never thought he'd take it that far. I thought it had to be a mistake, but one by one the rest of us drew our swords and prepared to take our posts. And I couldn't let that happen, and just thinking about it made me so mad, and I, I, I . . .
Well, I kinda stabbed him, then exiled myself from the city. And I've been running and wandering ever since, until a nice Mephistomon showed me the way here." She sighed, finally unfurling her wings. "And I've been here since then, but it both does and doesn't feel right, you know? Like, everyone kinda looks at me like I don't belong, and I get pissed, and apparently that's a good thing here? I'm so used to keeping it locked up, but I almost feel like here things aren't locked enough. Is that weird? Am I weird? What do you do?"
At the mention of the tournament, all assembled Bakemon turned towards Soulmon. Hunger flickered in their eyes, and before anyone knew it they all dogpiled Soulmon. The ghost ball bounced around the room, bowling over quite a few Digimon in their way. Their fight was a mass of flailing limbs and gnawing teeth, repeatedly pushing other ghosts out of the way while swiping for the pointed hat. It changed hands a multitude of times, but finally one Digimon emerged from the pile. It was presumably Soulmon, but frankly it was hard to tell. They looked identical to one another when the hat wasn't in play.
"I deserve leadership because I took out a D'arcmon with nothing but a big rock!" the Soulmon said, only for another Bakemon to tackle it and steal its hat. It turned around, letting out a shrieking protest. Were they incapable of speaking without the hat? Presumably so, considering the other Bakemon was now speaking perfectly coherently. "I deserve leadership because I boosted our morale when half of these numbskulls were about to defect! I have the jokebook to prove it and everything!" he bellowed. At this point the Bakemon he attacked tackled him back, the two wrestling for control of the hat.
Another Bakemon, fatigue in his eyes, floated behind them and smashed their heads together. He then donned the hat. "And I deserve to keep my leadership for putting up with these guys 24/7," he said. Presumably, from the fatigue in his voice, this was the original Soulmon once again. "I would rather we not have this fight now, anyway. You see . . ." He looked around, then leaned towards Hasenya, stage whispering towards her conspiratorially. "We're on a secret stealth mission!"
Archon flinched as Vulkanusmon reacted with anger at his objection. But he was at least glad that it didn't come to blows, in which he couldn't hope to survive. If anything, it made him regret his reaction a little. Now he would be most likely seen as a tattletale lackey to Daemon that might not earn as much trust as he would have if he didn't object. However, he hoped on the other hand, it played off well that he would react as any normal Rookie level servant would when blasphemy against Daemon was spoken within his own domain.
Thankfully Archon's withdrawal into submissiveness helped move things along. He was given the schematics, and held them delicately. He looked dumbfounded by their intricacy, but his red eyes were taking in every bit of information that he could manage. He was also careful not to tear them, since Vulcanusmon stated that would be a bad idea.
As Vulcanusmon explained his idea, Archon quickly mulled about it in his own mind. Yes, a magnetic enhanced barrier would be far superior to a passive armored defense, but would give it a key weakness: if the magnetic field were disrupted, perhaps by sabotage, then it would be far more vulnerable to break down.
In this moment, Archon had to choose. Should he risk going to a meeting with Daemon to endorse these plans? Or should he hold his tongue for now, now that he knew the weaknesses of the current passive armored defense of the fortress? He'd hold on that decision until he heard the rest of Vulcanusmon's plans.
This offensive purpose meanwhile? Archon almost shuddered from how terrible they were. Digimon attempting to scale the walls of his fortress being deleted and absorbed... this was too horrible for him to imagine. But still, he maintained his guise as a loyal servant.
He took a deep breath to brace himself against Vulcanusmon's wrath, but used it to clear his mind and think more on the role he was playing here.
"Pardon me for questioning you on this, sir, but, this offensive capability... to remotely erase and absorb the data of enemy digimon. I acknowledge that this is an incredible ability of your design, but... I also understand that such a function would require much power to maintain. Do you think Lord Daemon would agree to such a powerful defense system, considering all the rest of his projects?"
He'd best elaborate in case he tested Vulcanusmon's patience. "I mean, for this to be an impenetrable barrier, every square inch of the walls around this fortress would have to contain and power this program... and to have it be maintained at all times, compounded with the magnetic defense barrier you have also designed... that would require an incredible amount of power, just for defense alone. Sir, I don't believe I'd be able to convince Lord Daemon of the viability of your plans... unless you have designs that can overcome this problem?"
Archon hoped that sign of humbleness would be able to convince Vulcanusmon to tell him more about this idea of his.
"Well, what about you, then? Personally I mean? Do you have any hobbies or interests? Any TV or books you like looking at? And trust me, weird isn't an issue. I've been in that spot a lot of times..." She gave a reassuring smile, or, what she hoped was a reassuring smile.
Carrie hemmed and huhed as she tried to think of a solution to the poor digimon's dilemma. Obviously the digimon needed to get out of here, but as her own D'arcmon ranted in her mind she was concerned that she may be correct on the digimon's former superior and her attitude on deserters, on the other hand though she was definitely not going to do well here, what with the incoming raid and war and probable persecution for espionage and war crimes.
"Have you ever thought about a vacation? How long have you been working, just in general? I bet if you took some time off to think and reflect, you'd come to appreciate a lot more about either choice. Your mind is probably cluttered with work, this choice, thoughts about office gossip, and the confusing moral system you're working with. But If you were to visit... say... the moon, Snowflake Village, or the human world maybe, you might be able to appreciate everything a bit more."
Hasenya just let the group have at it for a bit. Better than throwing herself into the pile trying to break it all up- That'd be far more chaotic than it's worth. The fox sort of idled around awkwardly, wondering when the fighting would stop. And then when it seemed like it wasn't going to she reached out to intervene, hoping to swipe the actual leader from the mixed pile of similar-looking ghost digis. Just for one to pop out at her and proclaim they deserved leadership for.. being tired of the group's bullcrap? "If only such a reason were valid." The Renamon shrugged, standing up straight.
"An election probably won't do it, and it's pretty obvious you all can fight 'till your hearts' content so what good's a tournament?" She muttered, trying to resolve some way of figuring out this entire leadership dilemma in a quick way. Then came the shady whispers. She just about remarked about how coincidental that was, but for obvious reasons abstained from it. "...Okay?" The fox whispered back, wondering what the point of telling her this so-called secret was.
"Such power is worth it for an impenetrable defense mixed with a relentless offense. Besides, Daemon knows the fortress is the center of his power. He should be laying down his life to protect it, let alone fund my research to enhance it." Vulcanusmon crossed his arms, real and cybernetic alike. The look in his eye was one of cold contentment. Even with his face covered, it was obvious he had a prideful smirk on his face. "In fact, were he willing to sacrifice even a shred of the power he so greedily holds, the endless reserves he and his kin possess should be more than sufficient to continue powering the Icon. And even if he is unwilling, the data siphoned from his trophies should at least keep the system functional.
Really, the viability concern isn't in the sustainability of my plans. It would be in Daemon's ability to actually perform a single act of altruism. Honestly, it's a wonder he hasn't already usurped Lucemon and Barbamon's positions through sheer selfishness alone."
D'arcmon was the opposite of Vulcanusmon's cool confidence. She looked around, giggling nervously and twiddling her thumbs as she looked at the Gotsumon. "Leave? On active duty? I can't just . . . do that," she said. She looked around, then leaned towards the Gotsumon and whispered harshly. "Are you crazy, or just trying to get me killed? You know leaving the Icon when Lord Daemon needs you is one step away from treason. And talking like that, while two former Wraths are in here . . . come on, that just isn't funny!
Though it would be a nice change of pace, being stationed somewhere else once the invasions start. I mean. The other invasions started, I think. But Lord Daemon wants all of his forces stationed here, period. I don't know what he's planning, but the drills here have been getting more intense. I think he's trying to get us ready for something big soon. But he's been trying to get us ready for that something big for so long. What am I even supposed to think?"
"Taking this motley crew and making them a worthy fighting force is the worthiest reason, I'll have you know!" the Soulmon barked. "If you were locked in a room with them for five minutes you'd agree, let alone five years. But, I get it. No special prizes for doing my job. Even if the leadership is my job." Immediately the Bakemon hissed and squawked in protest, gathering around Soulmon to try and reclaim the hat.
"See what I have to deal with? Look, I know all you Wrath followers are the masters of putting people in their place. If you're not gonna weigh in on leadership, could you at least tell me how to put these punks in their place?"
As Archon listened to Vulcanusmon's explanation, he was immediately struck by an idea - one he had learned long ago from an old, probably shitty boss in the Dark Area. One that he thought might appeal to him.
"Of course, sir. Your remarkable firewall would be the ultimate defense..." he began, then hoped he might be able to put in his A-Game and flip this around. "But... as much as I've despised being in contact with humans, I have learned lessons from them, sir, and I have learned in their recent history that reliance on defense alone has resulted in ultimate defeat."
Archon knew he could possibly be stretching too far with this, but he felt the need to make the comparison. He felt that Vulcanusmon's defenses as planned would be too much to overcome. So he would give this last-ditch attempt of persuasion to convince him to not go ahead with this. Archon hadn't studied much about the human world, but what he had studied felt relevant to this conversation.
"Of course, it was many years ago, but... there were these two proud Human nations. France and Germany. France enacted what you did, sir, and attempted to close off the border against its rival with a perfect defense. Yet... when war came, these defenses were bypassed, and France was defeated in less than two months. By all means, sir, what I am saying, as those filthy humans learned, relying entirely on defense can result in ultimate defeat. Access any book on human history and it will tell you what I have just said, sir. What I mean to say is... would the Demon Lord of Wrath be content with encasing himself within what he thinks is a perfect defense when all those pesky chosen could find a weak point, breach it, then invade our territory?"
Archon's next actions would be determined by Vulcanusmon's next reactions. If he insisted on his current course, he would have no other option but to obey. But if Vulcanusmon wanted some clarification on all this, he would be happy to provide, and encourage more resources to be spent on things other than this horrible auto-deletion wall.
It was at this point that Archon felt grateful that he had listened to his friends in Rosewood. Alan and Levi, who introduced him to humanity for one thing, and the various others that had educated him on their history.
"O-of course not! I was just joking!" Carrie said, hopefully loud enough for others to hear. "I-I'm so sorry, I'm still new here, you're literally my first client and my job orientation only lasted 2 minutes before you guys showed up." She whispered among the two, hoping her co-worker had the same heart that she did.
"OK, so, you can't leave but maybe you can get transferred to a field agent?" She suggested. "It's like a vacation, but you're doing undercover work and spying on important digimon? I mean, you probably won't get luxurious places like a vacation but you'd still get more free-time to think about yourself. And isn't having everyone here period kind of a huge, huge, huge gamble? What happens if they DO invade and digimon ar- listen, we can't talk now, the line's growing longer as we speak. I'll give you a couple phone number to call later, we'll talk more then." She quickly wrote down a few phone numbers on some sticky notes and shoved them into the D'arcmon's hands
"Pleasure talking to you, hope we helped you today, NEXT!" She shouted into the line, really hoping her attempt at a good deed wouldn't go unrewarded. The numbers given were Carrie's Cell, her home phone, and her personal therapist's.
When the Soulmon put it like that, Hasenya had another idea to fulfill this request.. Assuming it went well, it'd be done in a nice and timely manner too. "You want me to help you put these numb-skulls in their place, did I hear that correctly?" Her gaze turned to the rest of the group, her expression not anything but indifferent though something still felt off about it all. It was like as soon as Wrath was mentioned a switch had been flipped for the dark Renamon. "You tell me you can't do it yourself because you're tired from having to deal with it all.. I think I understand, and I think I know just the way to help you."
She took a risk by letting her temper get the best of her, but it felt like just the thing to get this tiresome situation out of the way so she could continue doing her job. The fox raised her hands and cracked her knuckles, staring down at the group of Bakemon trying to go for the hat. If that wouldn't get their attention, then she would turn things up a bit by allowing a bit of her fire to escape her. Creating a thin outline around her and radiating a faint aura of heat. "If you all can't be trusted to settle this issue properly and get the Hell back to work and quit wasting everyone's time, I'll settle it for you." She stated, trying to make herself as imposing and intimidating as possible in hopes of avoiding any actual fighting. They made up for a lack of height by maintaining proper posture and letting the thin aura of fire around her grow slightly. Not too much, as starting an actual fire would just make things a whole lot worse. "You could just consider me your 'champion' if you're too tired to knock some heads together." The Renamon then added, glancing over to the Soulmon wearing the hat.
"Oh, but of course, but of course. To focus simply on defense is a heinous misuse of my talent," Vulcanusmon said. "Such is why I seek to develop weaponry as well, such as those clawed gauntlets for Daemon. Yet he insists on behaving far more like this . . . "France" you speak of. Do not misunderstand me, he looks oh so forward for the chance to slaughter. Yet it seems he would rather let his quarry come to him than exert the effort of routing them himself. Perhaps he figures the other five, if sufficiently directed, can handle that matter for him. Perhaps he also figures they aren't worth sharing our equipment stores for.
Nonsense, I say. They're idiots, but they're useful idiots. To leave them to hang is to deny them that use."
He cracked his back, straightening out some. "While I am curious to hear more of these warring nations, my workshop calls to me," he said. "If you can tell me quickly, I will pay it my consideration." He turned to walk away, but looked over his shoulder to continue paying Archon mind. Considering his rather cold attitude, it seemed Archon left a good impression!
At Carrie's mention of fieldwork, the D'arcmon blushed faintly. "Fieldwork? G-goodness, do you really think I'm ready?" she asked, trying to hide her smile. "I mean, Lord Daemon's generals say there's so much more I'd need to do to prepare to see combat, and that field work's for the other sins, and that watching the Icon's our top priority. But I'm sure I might be needed somewhere, right? I mean, I know the big guy on the horse goes out on patrols, but I think he's the only one allowed. You don't think he'll pick me next, do you?"
Despite her help, Carrie was quick to shuffle the line up again. D'arcmon blinked, looked at the number in her hand, then perked up as she got the hint. "Right! Right. I'll make sure to call, okay?" she asked, before speeding away with a mighty flap of her wings. "Thank you!" she called over her shoulder, the line pulsating as the Digimon within it debated how to most efficiently cut in front.
Soulmon and his Bakemon followers had a much less pleasant exit in mind. They let out hisses and yelps of surprise, practically tripping over one another in their haste to get away from Hasenya. Immediately Soulmon took off his hat, holding it out to the other Bakemon, but they were suddenly far less willing to accept it. Soulmon sighed, putting it on, before turning back to Hasenya. "We, uh. We've come to an agreement, I think," Soulmon said, turning to the others. "Right boys?" They hissed, whined, and shriek in response, each nodding faster than the last. With that all said, Soulmon clasped his hands and bowed a little bit too fast. "S-sorry to trouble you, madam! Miss! Uh, captain! That'll be all for today bye!"
Soulmon sped off so fast, he didn't even notice that his hat blew right off of his head. Well, that answered that!
With each line vacant, it seemed like the next questioners would make their approach. However, before they could, a portal opened. A massive golden blade fell through, forming a wall between Archon, Hasenya, Carrie, and their lines. This was none other than the telltale blade of a Zanbamon, who stepped through the portal and lifted it over his shoulder. "Enough of this nonsense!" the Zanbamon shouted, his horse half rearing up gracefully and sending the line scattering.
"Hey!" shouted Titamon, standing up from his seat and drawing his own blade. "What do you think you're doing? Charging in like you own the damn place? This one's my sector!"
"Ha! As a former Wrath, I go where I please!" How many former Wraths were in this fortress? Nevertheless, judging by how Titamon stopped objecting and started glowering, it was clear he wasn't just blowing smoke. "Patrol group's thin today, and I heard you've got fresh meat to flesh out the ranks. You three!" Zanbamon jabbed a thick finger in Archon, Hasenya, and Carrie's direction. "You're with me. How about you quit the pencil-pushing and see what real Wrath's about, hm?"
"Oh, I'll show you what real Wrath's like if you even think about stealing my troops," Titamon grumbled, cracking his knuckles. "You're not the only one with free reign around these parts. And I bet that eight-armed freak'll be all too happy to put you back together once I'm done with you."
"Leave me out of this," Vulcanusmon said, voice cold. He hoped nobody would hear him mutter "But also, yes," under his breath.
Nevertheless, it seemed the two titan-sized bringers of Wrath were currently at an impasse. Their muscles tensed, just waiting for the chance to lay into each other.
Archon was pleasantly surprised by Vulcanusmon's response to all this. And as long as he could keep it short and simple, he seemed open to better suggestions.
But how could Archon word it in such a way that would not help Daemon, yet at the same time sound convincing? He thought hard on better lessons on the human wars, struggling with what he knew, then, eventually, found it.
"Mobility was the key, sir." Archon eventually said, running to keep up with him as he kept up his brisk pace. "The ability to keep a mobile attacking force was key in all victorious human conflicts, from what I've learned."
This was the half truth. A well-coordinated mobile attacking force was the key. Piecemeal mobile units meanwhile were usually parried easily or mowed down by enemy attack. Archon hoped to get away with this omission by the fact that all of a sudden, himself, Hasenya and Carrie as well as their taskmasters met up, with some parties seemingly wanting to take their labour for themselves.
With the three of them reunited, Archon quickly rushed over to Hasenya and Carrie, whispering as he approached. "I think now might be a good time for us to make our leave with what we've learned so far." he whispered to them, hoping that they could make their escape from the fortress while the "former agents of Wrath" were engaged in their dispute.
Carrie waved her away kindly, leaning over the desk to shout 'next' again, and lost her head and arm to the gesture. She felt the sword cut through her rocky form like scissors through paper, and felt her head fall to the floor, the pile of rocks scrambling to the ground as her body panicked, tapping down the shoulders where her neck once was. Her head rolled across the floor, landing upside-down against a pillar, where she saw the blade be lifted up again. "Oh god, oh god, oh god this hurts!" She shouted, the rocks composing her arm rocks rolling and rejoining to the body. The rock body stumbled, no longer having the balancing pieces to keep it from wandering away, leaning against Archon when he approached. It pointed to the severed head that had rolled across the floor, and was now in the midst of a fleeing crowd of digimon (although some were willing to battle to the death for either side, likely having been looking for a reason to fight for a while).
The sulfur-colored object was quickly lost in the scramble, and in a panic, Carrie's mind fell to the wayside as... someone else took over. "WHAT THE HELL!?" Gotsumon shouted over the crowd, furious at having another near-death experience, post-death.
In an odd and cruel way she couldn't quite put words to, seeing those Digimon back down away from her was a bit of a confidence boost. Of course, she wasn't about to make a habit out of scaring others to get her kicks.. But she thought surely that no one would fault her if she gave some dark Digimon a taste of their own medicine. "Get back to work." Was the Renamon's only response before the Soulmon dashed away, leaving their hat behind. Noticing this, Hasenya picked the hat up and turned it over in her hands a few times examining it in the brief moment before the Zanbamon made their loud and aggressive entrance.
Her first move in response was a rational one, though she wouldn't make the same promise for the next. She rejoined her group as soon as possible, though it was impossible to not notice that Carrie's head had gone off somewhere. If they weren't made up of a bunch of rocks, this would be a lot more concerning. The fox nodded her head in agreement with Archon before following where the Gotsumon was pointing with her gaze until she saw the head. Even if she hadn't noticed it herself, the shouting probably would have made it plainly obvious.
"As good an idea as that is, we probably can't leave without our friend's head.." She responded quietly and then just went for the head. Forcing her way if need be. To her there didn't seem like much time to come up with a whole plan to get the head back, so she brute forced her way in and then out. Stumbling a bit on her way back to Archon and Carrie before placing the head back onto their previously headless teammate.. Backwards.
The hat wriggled slightly in Hasenya's hands. A cloudy thought, something akin to displeasure, would start to push at the front of her forehead the second she picked it up. A few moments later and the thought would fade away in a cloud of resignation. How odd.
As she finished business with the Soulmon, Archon had already pulled together quite the solid plan. Unfortunately, the details weren't quite perfect. Poor Carrie had lost her head over it! It had rolled right into the crowd, at which point her Gotsumon form decided to wake up and demand answers.
She wasn't the only one left wanting. A Boogiemon skid to a halt, turning to Titamon and puffing out his chest. "Yeah, what the hell?" he demanded. "I finally get my chance to be heard by Lord Daemon, and you're just gonna shut down questions like that? Just because this guy shows up?" A few murmurs of agreement rose up from the crowd. While most of the Digimon present were still hell-bent on fleeing the screen, a few assorted demons, devils, and nightcrawlers now stood by Boogiemon's side.
Titamon scowled down at the amassed demons. "Yeah? Be lucky you're getting an audience at all," Titamon muttered. "Think Lord Daemon's got time for any of this? Fat chance. Like it or not we're stuck with each other. So don't make this any harder for us than it needs to be, got it?"
"Ha! You can barely handle a mob!" Zanbamon said. "No wonder you haven't lead an army in years. I bet my granddaughter could handle this crowd better than you, and she ain't even out of the egg yet!"
"You'll see what I can handle, alright," Titamon hissed. "When I handle that sword right through your guts. 'Sides, patrol's easy when you leave out half of the damn fortress. When's the last time you cycled guards, again?"
D'arcmon, who was just about to step out of the doors, perked up in response to this. A few other Digimon did as well: eager, battle hungry, and yet with pristine and untouched armor. Vulcanusmon stopped in his tracks as well, taking out a pad and jotting some notes. Whatever Zanbamon's forces were, mobile sure didn't describe them.
Zanbamon simply scoffed in response. "Better building up the strong than making a big show of ignoring the rabble," he said. Boogeymon's mob of incensed Digimon let out shouts of agreement. The Digimon by D'arcmon circled ranks against them in turn, hackles raised in case Boogeymon's mob got aggressive. All the while, Titamon and Zanbamon were too busy sizing one another up to notice the little skirmish that was gathering at their feet.
And neither of them was paying any attention to the room's exits. They were just one crowd surf away.