MPC 88X (42A - Reunion): DWR Orientation
Jul 7, 2021 10:55:45 GMT
Post by Bezil on Jul 7, 2021 10:55:45 GMT
MPC 88X – 42A: Reunion
I would like posts for this entry.
Bezil the Gumdramon was suffering from a mild fever disease that had spread around Ys. Thankfully it had very little chance of being fatal, just a regular sickness that happened from time to time among digimon that lived here. Still though, procedures had to be followed, and after his recently recovered brothers and grandfather had set up his room so that his boyfriend Gummy could be there with him with minimal chance of infection, Bezil’s days were considerably better. While Gummy often beat him in the video games they played together – separated by a plastic curtain that his grandfather Sten had put up, Bezil appreciated the challenge, and greatly looked forward to the time when he too would be free of the disease and be able to snuggle with his boyfriend as he wanted.
But for the time being, he had to endure the process of the fever. He hated the feeling – being so weak, having no means to be rid of this sickness. But, his parents Owen and Hikaru had taught him to be patient, so he would not do anything risky to make the disease worse.
However, while the fever burned within him, he soon found out that his most testing moments would not be by day, but by night.
Bezil had heard that fever dreams were much more vivid and intense than normal dreams, according to his brothers. But he had yet to experience how it would be like. And tonight, he would experience his first.
As Bezil lay in his bed, sweating and shuddering from his fever, he dreamed an experience he had only so far seen in the shadows of his mind – somewhere in the Western Flatlands. Previously it had only been fleeting images and sounds, but this night, as he was suffering his fever, it felt more real than it had ever been. It felt like he was there, in great danger.
Bezil felt something sharp touch the back of his neck, making him straighten up from reflex. He heard a voice. ”Paws above your head, Gumdramon, don’t test me.” a cruel voice spoke.
Bezil looked behind him, seeing a Gladimon garbed in strange runes holding him prisoner, holding the point of his sword weapon to the crook of Bezil’s neck. Had Bezil thought this was a normal dream he would have discarded this, but, it was so vivid, so real, he felt he had no choice but to cross his paws above his ears before he felt the point of the sword be pulled back.
“Good, now look ahead.” the Gladimon spoke. Bezil did so, and in front of him stood a Musyamon, holding a runed sword, dressed in armor with… symbols that Bezil vaguely recognized, but couldn’t name. The Musyamon began to speak.
“Citizens of the Digital World Republic.” he began, “The time of our stagnation is over. The path of our future will be carved right today. Those of you that stand with us and our worthy new leader, Tactimon, you will be forever welcome as heroes in our new Empire. Fail to do so, and your data will simply be loaded into us, his leal followers.”
This immediately felt wrong to Bezil. But… what could he do here? Especially when he saw a Koemon spit and was immediately destroyed and loaded by the Musyamon.
“By all means, yes, continue your defiance. One way or another, we’ll gain your power.” he spoke to the rest of the prisoners in the vicinity. Bezil froze, he couldn’t move against something like this. He felt sickened by this monstrous act, but, what could he do? He felt too weak to even evolve against it. Such was the state of his sickness.
Then he heard something in the distance from behind. Some kind of buzzing motor noise. One, then two, then five. This unsettled Musyamon too, as well as all the other horrible digimon in the vicinity. But Bezil did nothing to resist, only turned to look at what was approaching.
He saw five motorcycles arriving – all being driven by Rookie level digimon, with two further rookie digimon behind them. He saw a Bearmon, Gatomon, but the rider of the central motorcycle drew his attention. He was a Gaomon, with fierce yellow eyes, very much like his own. And all of these digimon wore khaki tunics, decorated on their shoulders with a golden sword and wheel upon red stripes.
“It’s the seven seventy fi-!” cried a Monodramon, but he was run down before he could finish his sentence.
“BATTLE POSITIONS!” the Musyamon ordered, and the Gladimon that was holding Bezil down immediately retreated to his own safety. It wasn’t much use though. Bezil realized that the digimon here under Musyamon’s command were dressed in brown-grey tunics that differed from the khaki of the 7/71st Recon. And with five of their battle motorcycles, equipped with machine guns and rockets, they soon made short work of the enemy, until the five of them were faced with only Musyamon.
“Any last words, traitor?” the Gaomon growled at him, his armed motorcycle 30 feet away.
“You’ll get yours, Captain Jaelin.” the Musyamon spat. The Gaomon responded by launching two rockets at the enemy. They made contact, and sent the data of the samurai digimon fading into the wind.
Bezil was speechless here. He watched as the digimon dismounted from their armed motorcycles, all of them keeping an eye out to make sure there was no further resistance. But they scoured the land thoroughly enough to determine it was safe. Eventually, they returned to Bezil and the other digimon that had been held prisoner here.
“Are you alright, son?” the Gaomon asked Bezil, gently. Bezil looked back up at him, seeing the same yellow eyes that his father Owen had. Well… not the same, exactly. These eyes seemed tired, resigned, full of guilt. Not the same bright, cheerful happy eyes that Owen had. But the question made Bezil answer quickly.
“Yeah, I’m okay, dad.” he said. This caused much reaction from the digimon that wore the khaki of the 7/71st.
“Oho, what’s this?” a Bearmon asked, suddenly interested. Bezil looked and somewhat recognized the grey-white digimon, thinking he looked a lot like Brad from KIZNA, but held silent on this, given that the Gaomon was looking at him with shock.
“Did… did you just call me dad?” the Gaomon asked. As he said this, a Tailmon approached his side.
“Well, sir, he does have the same eyes as you.” she said. “I see a possibility.”
Bezil at once knew the blunder he had made. No, this wasn’t Owen, it was another Gaomon. But… yet… he felt a familiarity with this one. He felt the need to de-escalate the situation.
“I’m sorry, sir, I mistook you for someone else.” he immediately said. “My father was a Gaomon… you look a lot like him. I… haven’t seen him in a while.”
“I see.” the Gaomon said, his expression lightening. “Was he in the army?”
“He was, sir…” Bezil began, trying his best to weave his story. It was hard, since he had the feeling that this digimon could quickly see through lies. “But he retired… to become a teacher.”
Captain Jaelin nodded with understanding. “I’ve known other digimon to do the same, I hope he’s well. Did he have a name?”
“Yes, sir, his name is Owen.” Bezil answered, immediately regretting bursting out with that information, but wondered if it would stir a reaction in this Captain. For a moment, he thought it did, the Gaomon’s expression growing… fuzzy somewhat. But what he said afterward put Bezil’s worries to rest.
“I see. I don’t know any Gaomon named Owen. But regardless, he had his own name, so I assume he gave you one too. What is your name, Gumdramon?”
“My name is Bezil, sir.” the furred dragon replied.
“Well, Bezil, most unfortunately you’ve stumbled upon one of the worst places at the worst time. If it weren’t for us, you’d be nothing but digital dust right now. Tell me, are you skilled in combat?”
“I… think so, sir, my father taught me everything he knew.” Bezil replied, truthfully.
“Alright then. And are you loyal to the Digital World Republic?” Jaelin asked, his eyes turning sharp, making Bezil flinch. “Speak truthfully, boy.” he left the rest of his threat unspoken.
“I am.” Bezil replied, thinking he had no other decision here.
“Then get seated behind me, we’re heading back to our front line.” Jaelin said, leaning forward to give Bezil enough room to board the recon motorcycle. Once Bezil was seated, they made their way forth. “We’re 15 kilometers from our forward base, and the enemy could be anywhere along the way. Keep an eye out for me, Bezil. For now I’ll trust you, I have a good feeling about you.”
“Yes sir, Captain Jaelin.” Bezil replied, and said nothing more.
As his fever dream proceeded, Bezil flinched and grunted in his sleep, hopefully not enough to disturb Gummy who was looking after him. But it was enough for him to think this vivid dream was real. And he didn’t know what would lay ahead.
Word Count: 1522
I would like posts for this entry.
Bezil the Gumdramon was suffering from a mild fever disease that had spread around Ys. Thankfully it had very little chance of being fatal, just a regular sickness that happened from time to time among digimon that lived here. Still though, procedures had to be followed, and after his recently recovered brothers and grandfather had set up his room so that his boyfriend Gummy could be there with him with minimal chance of infection, Bezil’s days were considerably better. While Gummy often beat him in the video games they played together – separated by a plastic curtain that his grandfather Sten had put up, Bezil appreciated the challenge, and greatly looked forward to the time when he too would be free of the disease and be able to snuggle with his boyfriend as he wanted.
But for the time being, he had to endure the process of the fever. He hated the feeling – being so weak, having no means to be rid of this sickness. But, his parents Owen and Hikaru had taught him to be patient, so he would not do anything risky to make the disease worse.
However, while the fever burned within him, he soon found out that his most testing moments would not be by day, but by night.
Bezil had heard that fever dreams were much more vivid and intense than normal dreams, according to his brothers. But he had yet to experience how it would be like. And tonight, he would experience his first.
As Bezil lay in his bed, sweating and shuddering from his fever, he dreamed an experience he had only so far seen in the shadows of his mind – somewhere in the Western Flatlands. Previously it had only been fleeting images and sounds, but this night, as he was suffering his fever, it felt more real than it had ever been. It felt like he was there, in great danger.
Bezil felt something sharp touch the back of his neck, making him straighten up from reflex. He heard a voice. ”Paws above your head, Gumdramon, don’t test me.” a cruel voice spoke.
Bezil looked behind him, seeing a Gladimon garbed in strange runes holding him prisoner, holding the point of his sword weapon to the crook of Bezil’s neck. Had Bezil thought this was a normal dream he would have discarded this, but, it was so vivid, so real, he felt he had no choice but to cross his paws above his ears before he felt the point of the sword be pulled back.
“Good, now look ahead.” the Gladimon spoke. Bezil did so, and in front of him stood a Musyamon, holding a runed sword, dressed in armor with… symbols that Bezil vaguely recognized, but couldn’t name. The Musyamon began to speak.
“Citizens of the Digital World Republic.” he began, “The time of our stagnation is over. The path of our future will be carved right today. Those of you that stand with us and our worthy new leader, Tactimon, you will be forever welcome as heroes in our new Empire. Fail to do so, and your data will simply be loaded into us, his leal followers.”
This immediately felt wrong to Bezil. But… what could he do here? Especially when he saw a Koemon spit and was immediately destroyed and loaded by the Musyamon.
“By all means, yes, continue your defiance. One way or another, we’ll gain your power.” he spoke to the rest of the prisoners in the vicinity. Bezil froze, he couldn’t move against something like this. He felt sickened by this monstrous act, but, what could he do? He felt too weak to even evolve against it. Such was the state of his sickness.
Then he heard something in the distance from behind. Some kind of buzzing motor noise. One, then two, then five. This unsettled Musyamon too, as well as all the other horrible digimon in the vicinity. But Bezil did nothing to resist, only turned to look at what was approaching.
He saw five motorcycles arriving – all being driven by Rookie level digimon, with two further rookie digimon behind them. He saw a Bearmon, Gatomon, but the rider of the central motorcycle drew his attention. He was a Gaomon, with fierce yellow eyes, very much like his own. And all of these digimon wore khaki tunics, decorated on their shoulders with a golden sword and wheel upon red stripes.
“It’s the seven seventy fi-!” cried a Monodramon, but he was run down before he could finish his sentence.
“BATTLE POSITIONS!” the Musyamon ordered, and the Gladimon that was holding Bezil down immediately retreated to his own safety. It wasn’t much use though. Bezil realized that the digimon here under Musyamon’s command were dressed in brown-grey tunics that differed from the khaki of the 7/71st Recon. And with five of their battle motorcycles, equipped with machine guns and rockets, they soon made short work of the enemy, until the five of them were faced with only Musyamon.
“Any last words, traitor?” the Gaomon growled at him, his armed motorcycle 30 feet away.
“You’ll get yours, Captain Jaelin.” the Musyamon spat. The Gaomon responded by launching two rockets at the enemy. They made contact, and sent the data of the samurai digimon fading into the wind.
Bezil was speechless here. He watched as the digimon dismounted from their armed motorcycles, all of them keeping an eye out to make sure there was no further resistance. But they scoured the land thoroughly enough to determine it was safe. Eventually, they returned to Bezil and the other digimon that had been held prisoner here.
“Are you alright, son?” the Gaomon asked Bezil, gently. Bezil looked back up at him, seeing the same yellow eyes that his father Owen had. Well… not the same, exactly. These eyes seemed tired, resigned, full of guilt. Not the same bright, cheerful happy eyes that Owen had. But the question made Bezil answer quickly.
“Yeah, I’m okay, dad.” he said. This caused much reaction from the digimon that wore the khaki of the 7/71st.
“Oho, what’s this?” a Bearmon asked, suddenly interested. Bezil looked and somewhat recognized the grey-white digimon, thinking he looked a lot like Brad from KIZNA, but held silent on this, given that the Gaomon was looking at him with shock.
“Did… did you just call me dad?” the Gaomon asked. As he said this, a Tailmon approached his side.
“Well, sir, he does have the same eyes as you.” she said. “I see a possibility.”
Bezil at once knew the blunder he had made. No, this wasn’t Owen, it was another Gaomon. But… yet… he felt a familiarity with this one. He felt the need to de-escalate the situation.
“I’m sorry, sir, I mistook you for someone else.” he immediately said. “My father was a Gaomon… you look a lot like him. I… haven’t seen him in a while.”
“I see.” the Gaomon said, his expression lightening. “Was he in the army?”
“He was, sir…” Bezil began, trying his best to weave his story. It was hard, since he had the feeling that this digimon could quickly see through lies. “But he retired… to become a teacher.”
Captain Jaelin nodded with understanding. “I’ve known other digimon to do the same, I hope he’s well. Did he have a name?”
“Yes, sir, his name is Owen.” Bezil answered, immediately regretting bursting out with that information, but wondered if it would stir a reaction in this Captain. For a moment, he thought it did, the Gaomon’s expression growing… fuzzy somewhat. But what he said afterward put Bezil’s worries to rest.
“I see. I don’t know any Gaomon named Owen. But regardless, he had his own name, so I assume he gave you one too. What is your name, Gumdramon?”
“My name is Bezil, sir.” the furred dragon replied.
“Well, Bezil, most unfortunately you’ve stumbled upon one of the worst places at the worst time. If it weren’t for us, you’d be nothing but digital dust right now. Tell me, are you skilled in combat?”
“I… think so, sir, my father taught me everything he knew.” Bezil replied, truthfully.
“Alright then. And are you loyal to the Digital World Republic?” Jaelin asked, his eyes turning sharp, making Bezil flinch. “Speak truthfully, boy.” he left the rest of his threat unspoken.
“I am.” Bezil replied, thinking he had no other decision here.
“Then get seated behind me, we’re heading back to our front line.” Jaelin said, leaning forward to give Bezil enough room to board the recon motorcycle. Once Bezil was seated, they made their way forth. “We’re 15 kilometers from our forward base, and the enemy could be anywhere along the way. Keep an eye out for me, Bezil. For now I’ll trust you, I have a good feeling about you.”
“Yes sir, Captain Jaelin.” Bezil replied, and said nothing more.
As his fever dream proceeded, Bezil flinched and grunted in his sleep, hopefully not enough to disturb Gummy who was looking after him. But it was enough for him to think this vivid dream was real. And he didn’t know what would lay ahead.
Word Count: 1522
