A Fistful of Yen (Noxis)

The man’s mind still raced after the other day’s scramble. That lady, that dame, that bitch. She was drop dead gorgeous, about as perfect as any man could imagine. The thing was, frankly she’d disrupted him quite rudely, and then the fight erupted. Graedon, who had then evolved into his ghastly ultimate form, just about had the other digimon dead. So much data could have been absorbed, so much power! And then the lady would be helpless, defenseless without her digimon partner to protect her from the big bad lawyer. Albeit, their battle had been much too close to Terminus City, and the guard force had come after them. For the sake of keeping clear of legal trouble, something Everett was only familiar with in the real world, they left the scene and headed south.

Thanks to WaruMonzaemon’s massive steps and hovering heart-bubbles, arriving at Whitewater City took very little time. It was here that the lawyer and his partner decided to lay low for a while, enjoy the great weather and fantastic coastal scenery. They’d spent plenty of time padding through the shallow waters of the Binary Archipelago, lounging at the base of palm trees and sand dunes, and most importantly, enjoying the local bars’ digi-noir and imported sake.

Today, Everett and Graedon were wandering about, still unsure of what was next on the docket. The lawyer’s target was the usual; more sake, more relaxation. His ursine friend, on the other hand, was becoming restless. As a digimon who’d recently discovered his ultimate form, he wanted to fight and train and wreak havoc! What else was a 25-ft, horror-esque body good for, especially if it came equipped with three enormous blades attached to his hand? Everett was keeping tabs on him, but it was only a matter of time before he’d purposely bump into a tamer or mean-looking digimon.

Shifting his eyes, the Bearmon felt his lips curl in a menacing grin. Sitting alone and looking exhausted was a human! Filthy attire and sweat on his face, he would be the perfect candidate. Probably easy to push, easy to annoy, and easy to mug; that briefcase of his, as tattered as it appeared, seemed to reveal a glimpse of untarnished contents. Tugging on Everett’s rolled up sleeve, the bear gestured his head towards the dreary looking stranger, as if to gesture that he was going to go and stir up some trouble. Everett, who at this point was on a nice buzz from the earlier shots of sake, simply shrugged his shoulders and kept to his lenient pace.

Sneaking quietly on the sand beneath his feet, Graedon crept up behind the bench. In one effortless leap, the thug digimon sprung over the backing and landed flat on his bum with a loud thud.
”Hey chump what’s hanging?” he spewed casually, slinging his arm up atop the bench. He sprawled his body to the point that he was taking up half the bench, and chewing on his lip, he looked the man up and down.
”Got anythin’ good in that there box of yours?” he asked cockily.

Everett was catching up to his trouble making partner albeit slowly. He overheard what the man was saying, sensing the uneasy tone from him. Oh that tone, it was the one he heard so often from an accused witness, trembling in court as they tried to convince prosecution of their innocence. A jab of nostalgia hit him, followed by a woozy grin. All those times, that tone belonged to his prey, for it was always him prosecuting them. Innocent or not, if he wanted someone behind bars they would be put there, and no amount of shakiness or pleading would ever help them.

Striding up behind the duo, Everett peered into the slit of the briefcase. Curious, he glanced at Graedon and back at the case, his digimon catching the glimpse and returning an arrogant smirk. That was when the other man offered a courteous bow, and at that the lawyer couldn’t help but cackle. Graedon joined in, both cracking up mockingly as this Tridori Yaku asked away. Oh boy, he really had no clue! Rather than answer a question, Everett placed his palms on the back of the bench, leaning into the conversation.
”Nice uhh… Suit.” he remarked, throwing his own blazer over the bench, flashing the Gucci designer tags.
”You know, you sure ask a lot of questions, friend. Where’s your digimon partner?” Staring down the man, his shades glared with the sun’s reflection.

Graedon hopped off the bench and planted himself directly in front of the man, cracking his knuckles. He tapped on the briefcase with his claw, clicking about.
”A hotel? Haha! I don’t think so. And a train to Terminus, talk about being pampered! What’s wrong, that scratch on your back botherin’ ya? Can’t walk there like the rest of us?” He smiled at Yaki, almost sincerely, as if to imply humor and friendliness disguised as sarcasm.

He didn’t have a partner? How in the world did this sorry excuse of a man get here without a digimon? Everett cackled at the remark, pulling out his flask and taking a swig of the whiskey he’d brought with him. As he downed the bitter liquid and placed it back inside his pocket, Rett’s eyes managed to make out a photo of what looked like a fine lass inside the briefcase. But his observation was cut short as the man yanked it away from his ursine friend.

Graedon was already having a blast, his grubby little paws instinctively gripping tighter when he felt the case slip away. A menacing look flashed in his eye as he listened to Yaku, almost weeping as he pleaded.
”Now now, let’s settle down here.” started the bear digimon in an entertained tone.
”First of all, what in hell were you thinking, following a Palmon? Yuck, those planters make me sick!” He inched forward, his body pressing lightly against the human’s knees as he reached forward at the case.
”Second of all-“
”Second of all, you’re a god damn sap! Get up!” Everett spat out, watching the man cower away and almost crush a passing by Motimon. If he’d be this much of a pushover, he would just get Graedon to snag the case and they’d walk away. This wouldn’t even be fun.

Reaching into his pocket, Everett pulled out a half-smoked cigar and lit it back up. The cloud of smoke drifted right into Yaku’s face, intentionally of course. Graedon padded closer to the fallen human, grabbing the briefcase forcefully and spilling its contents onto the sand.
”Let’s see what you got here… oh, look at this sexay lay-deh! Fiiiine!” the digimon whistled rudely, passing the photograph to his tamer in exchange for the cigar.
”Oh hoh! Who’s this broad? No way a guy like you can know someone like her!” The arrogance was bursting from the duo, both gawking at the photograph. Graedon grinned a rather toothy smile, and headed back to the pile of spilled contents to try and pick up the bit of yen that’d spilled along with the mounds of papers.
”Man, this guy’s a real schmuck, ain’t he Rett?” remarked the Bearmon.
”No kidding pal, no kidding!” replied the tamer.

Yikes, this fellow was just not turning out to be the fun target he’d assumed he would be. Everett rolled his eyes at the sight of this guy. Pleading, cowering, now it was becoming redundant. The tamer glanced over at his bear digimon, who was frowning at the fact that Tridori Yaku managed to scoop up all the yen before he got to it. Of course, that didn’t mean they wouldn’t grab hold of it; no way!

Everett had already come up with a plan. Sure, his bits of yen were chump change, but it wasn’t really about the money now. At this point, both tipsy Everett and trouble making Graedon were in this, they wanted to see some action! Picking on an exhausted, scruffy looking wimp with a gash on his back may not have been the best choice, but it was something. At least the suitcase proved to hold something.

Looking down at Yaku and back at the photograph, Everett’s face lit up with an impish smirk.
”Tell ya what Tridorah,” he spouted, purposely mispronouncing the name.
”The name’s Everett, for starters. Eh-Ve-Rett!” he worded each syllable, speaking slowly.
”And I got a deal for ya, a liiiiittle proposition, so to speak.” The man waved the photograph of the woman around in the air carelessly.
”You give me whatever yen you’re holding on to there and I’ll give you back this shitty photo of yours.”
At that point he slipped a lighter out of his pocket, playing with it in his palm.
”You’d better hurry up though, I ain’t got all day.”

A laugh echoed into the air as Everett felt a push on his chest. Listening to the haggard man yell was refreshing, and this was more what he was looking for. Turns out that even the shakiest chicken will freak out and go on the offensive when backed into a corner, as Everett knew all too well from his predatory days in the court room. It was just a matter of saying the right things, it was always just a matter of pushing the right button.

As Tridori stood up for himself, the duo looked over at one another, lifting one brow to each other. Graedon, excited to finally see something happen, raised his arm and motioned a yapping gesture with his hand. He chuckled, but was rudely interrupted by a pushing prod to the chest. Immediately, his chuckle morphed into a growl, his smug grin flipping around and revealing a toothy snarl.
”Watch it, bud.” said the bear in a threatening tone.
”Teddy bear, huh? You wanna see a teddy bear?” With that, Graedon began to flare up in a purple glow, his eyes filling with light as particles enveloped him. Everett’s digivice started to make noise, beeping steadily as it fed energy to the rookie digimon.
”Hey! Not too big Grae, lay low!” exclaimed the tamer as his digimon evolved.

Graedon had heard what Everett said, controlling himself and his level of energy.
”Graedon digivolve to…” His arms and legs swelled, his torso elongated and his facial features flattened. Tripling in size, the Bearmon’s skin began to lose all hair and burst open in places, revealing not flesh, but cotton. Horns and tubes shot out in various places, and his eyes receded into his skull. At last, one final tube punched out from his chest and fastened itself onto his face, like a direct gas mask from his nose to his lungs.
”Porcupamon!” This monster looked hideous, towering at a total of 10ft, looking like the outcome of an insane doctor’s splicing experiment. Spines lined every tear in his skin, his voice echoed like that of a lich king; two toned, hollow, terrifying.

The horror-esque teddy bear towered directly in front of Yaku, his warped cackle filling the air.
”Hold on Grae, give the man a second to breathe.” he passed casually.
”Not everyone’s seen real monsters before, you know. Not like you, anyway. Can’t even make eye contact with you with those stitched eyelids!”
The twisted teddy giggled, his breath as audible as a scuba diver’s.
”So uh, what was that you were saying? I mean, I couldn’t make it out earlier. It’s like you were talking, but only noise was coming out.” the lawyer spoke and jeered.
”Oh and one other thing, never, ever, touch me again.”

Despite the wimp’s forceful tone, Everett could still see how weak in the knees this guy was. Granted though, even Rett had to admit that was a pretty nice little speech. Maybe this guy had it in him to be a bit of fun? He was starting to show his teeth, would it be a matter of time before he’d bite? Then again, without a digimon partner, his bark was all the bite he could have right now.

Huffing a little, Rett shot a brief glimpse at the chump change on the sand. Nah, there was no way he’d lean down for that, not now. Before it was a teaser, just something to antagonize the other man with; at this point it would be shameful to even reach for it. Looking back at Yaku, the lawyer smirked.
”Cute speech, how long did that take you to learn?” he spoke cockily, as if the works Tridori so bravely threw out there were nothing more than a game. Really, that’s all words ever were to him anyway.
”See, yeah we’re pretty ugly inside, we know that. But at least we know how to keep ourselves held together. Cause y'know, last time I threw a tantrum like this, I was still in diapers. I grew up, I learned a thing or two about the real world. And you? Look at yourself, you might think you dress like grown man, but you’re a god damned brat.” Everett puffed on his cigar before tossing it into the pile of yen at his feet.
”You can dress a sheep in wolf’s clothing, it’s still a sheep. Grow up, Tridori, take a breath and look around you. What can you possibly do?”

Graedon, who was still towering and motionless, let out a hacking, sick sounding laugh. He reached at Yaku’s collar, looking to pick him up by the scruff of his shirt like a misbehaving cat.
”Aww, that was adorable. Hurt my feelins’, really did.” Graedon sighed a little.
”But you couldn’t be more wrong. I don’t know how your world works, but its mon-eat-mon out here. If you’re weak, you’re nothing! You sound like you come from a lovely place with rainbows and butterflies and mutual tolerance, where everyone is forced to like each other just because you’re told to. You’d better wake the hell up if you want to survive, you’re in the jungle now, pipsqueak.”
Graedon huffed out, his gas mask leaking slightly with a pungent odor.
”One thing you’re right about, though,” he paused with a chuckle, the spikes in his body elongating as he inched them out.
”I definitely ain’t human.”