Yamato Ishida (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
angry_friendship_wolf) wrote2017-12-23 11:04 pm
angry_friendship_wolf) wrote2017-12-23 11:04 pm
[01 OOM] O hai Vamdemon
“The Chosen Children are separated,” Phantomon says, at Vamdemon’s next war meeting. “And they are deep within your territory now, my liege. I can dispatch Perfect-level Digimon to their location, and -- …”
Vamdemon flicks a hand, and a bolt of red lightning engulfs Phantomon, pinning him against the far wall. PicoDevimon snickers, fluttering about the hall, while Tailmon averts her gaze. Wizarmon fixes his gaze on Phantomon’s writhing form, adjusting the brim of his hat.
“You forget, Phantomon, what our lord in his wisdom hasn’t,” Wizarmon says. “The prophecy leaves no room for interpretation: It is only by the hand of the Eighth Child that Lord Vamdemon may be struck down. Only the bearer of the Crest of Light can kill him. The other children are unimportant.”
“Unless they end up tryin’ to stop us before we can kill the little brat,” PicoDevimon says.
“There’s little chance of that,” Wizarmon says. “They are separated, and the only one whose Crest has shone has been cast away to parts unknown, perhaps never to return. Devimon and Etemon made the mistake of believing that force of arms would defeat the Chosen Children, but if they have no reason to fight, then they’ll never pursue Lord Vamdemon.”
PicoDevimon clears his throat, holding a wing in front of his mouth. “I’ve got a little best-o’-both-worlds suggestion if y’want to hear it, m’lord.”
Vamdemon regards him for a moment, then waves a hand. In the same motion, the bolt of lightning holding Phantomon in place dissipates, and he drops to the ground.
“I happen to know a few people here and there,” PicoDevimon says. “People who, for a modest fee, would be more than happy to help their lord keep the Chosen Children occupied, and make sure their Crests never shine.”
Vamdemon considers this for a moment, then reaches to the table next to him, lifting a glass of red liquid. “Then by all means, PicoDevimon.”
---
PicoDevimon darts to the mountain range that encircles one side of the great lake first, darting down deep into the space beneath one of the mountains, to a tiny shop nestled in a void of infinite stars.
“Vademon, m’old pal!” PicoDevimon calls, and the slender, large-brained Digimon bustling around the shop’s back room turns towards him. “How’s business?”
“Poor,” Vademon says, drawing out the word. “I take it you aren’t here to buy anything.”
“Nah, got no use for these, er … curiosities,” PicoDevimon says, glancing around the shop. “But boy oh boy, do I have a business opportunity! There’s a kid on top of the mountain with some stellar curiosity. Pull ‘im down here, and you could sell his curiosity on at a premium! People’ll come here from all the way on Folder to bid on it!”
Vademon narrows his eyes. “Tell me more.”
---
PicoDevimon barely has to look for the Tachikawa girl. Entranced by their friendly demeanour and chivalrous nature, she’s already wandered into the Gekomon kingdom.
They’re preparing her food when he flutters down by a small gang of Gekomon. “Hey, guys, how’s that whole thing with yer boss going?”
The Gekomon’s dour looks suggest that the whole thing with their boss is not, in fact, going well.
“How’s about I let you in on a little secret, eh?” PicoDevimon says, and glances this way and that, shuffling over to the Gekomon. “I heard, I heard, that that girl you’ve got staying with you has a voice that could raise the dead. And your boss ain’t even dead! All yous gotta do is get her to sing him a little song and he’ll be up and about in no time.”
The Gekomon start murmuring among themselves, and PicoDevimon shuffles a wing in front of his mouth.
“Although,” he murmurs, “I guess that means you can’t let her go until she’s sang for you, right?”
---
He finds Jyou Kido working off a debt he had unwisely racked up at Digitamamon’s Diner, on the lake’s shore.
“Digitamamon, m’old pal,” PicoDevimon says, floating down as the restaurant owner is serving customers.
“You, you are not allowed here anymore,” Digitamamon snaps. “Not after the last time, you hear me? It’s a new restaurant policy, no flyers.”
“Sure, sure,” PicoDevimon says smoothly, waving a wing. “I was just thinkin’, Lord Vamdemon might be persuaded to give you guys his personal seal of approval if you do a little favour for him, y’know?”
Digitamamon narrows his eyes. “Favour?”
“That kid y’got working for him. How long until he pays off his debt?” PicoDevimon asks.
“Eh, not more than a day. He earns his keep,” Digitamamon says. “We had to add a few hours on because of broken dishes, you know.”
“Sorry, sorry, I should’ve been more clear,” PicoDevimon says, and, without breaking eye contact, shoves a box off plates to the floor, shattering them all. “How long until the Kido kid works off his debt? Get what I’m saying?”
---
He finds Sora Takenouchi next, wandering the forest, too far from civilisation for him to lure her into an easy trap.
He flutters down nearby, waving a wing. “Hey, you’re that kid, riiiight? Sora, was it? One of those fancy Chosen kids.”
Sora blinks at her, even as her partner moves between them. “Do I … know you?”
“Naaah,” PicoDevimon says. “But I sure know you! PicoDevimon’s the name! I don’t know if you know, but I consider myself somethin’ of an, ahem, scholar about those Crests you all found in the Server desert.”
“Our -- our Crests?”
“Right! Like, did you know that they all represent a virtue?” PicoDevimon says. “The floofy-haired kid with the Agumon’s got Courage, and the two blondies’ve got Friendship and Hope. Koushiro Izumi’s got Knowledge, the scrawny kid’s got Reliability, and the girl with the hat’s got Sincerity. Pretty good fit, right?”
He pauses, rubbing his face awkwardly with a wing. “Well. Mostly, I guess.”
Sora blinks at him. “... Mostly?”
“Yeeeeaaaah. Turns out, sometimes you get, I dunno, mistakes. Errors,” PicoDevimon. “‘Cause someone gave you the Crest of Love.”
That has an effect. He sees Sora go pale, curling in on himself slightly, and he stifles his grin into an expression of mournful solemnity. Piyomon turns, looking up at Sora.
“... Sora?”
“Yeah, y’know what I’m talking about,” PicoDevimon says. “‘Cause how can you have the Crest of Love, right? How can you love anybody when you don’t even know what love looks like?”
“That’s -- that’s not …”
“Hey, hey, I’m not judgin’. Not-Judgey PicoDevimon is what they call me,” PicoDevimon says. “I’m just sayin’, we both know you mother’s never loved you, right? Not a single day in your life. Someone who’s never received love can’t love anyone else in return. That’s just not how it works.”
He can see Sora starting to tear up now, so he flutters up to look her in the eye. “Hey, hey, don’t cry! I didn’t mean to upset you! I’m just, you know, saying that nobody has ever loved you and also that you’ll die alone and be eaten by Shiba Inus. If that bothers you, I totally don’t know what to tell you, Sors.”
Piyomon all but shoves him away. “You don’t have to listen to this, Sora!”
“Ri-i-ight,” PicoDevimon says. “You totally don’t have to listen to this. I need to be going anyway! See you soon.”
Vamdemon flicks a hand, and a bolt of red lightning engulfs Phantomon, pinning him against the far wall. PicoDevimon snickers, fluttering about the hall, while Tailmon averts her gaze. Wizarmon fixes his gaze on Phantomon’s writhing form, adjusting the brim of his hat.
“You forget, Phantomon, what our lord in his wisdom hasn’t,” Wizarmon says. “The prophecy leaves no room for interpretation: It is only by the hand of the Eighth Child that Lord Vamdemon may be struck down. Only the bearer of the Crest of Light can kill him. The other children are unimportant.”
“Unless they end up tryin’ to stop us before we can kill the little brat,” PicoDevimon says.
“There’s little chance of that,” Wizarmon says. “They are separated, and the only one whose Crest has shone has been cast away to parts unknown, perhaps never to return. Devimon and Etemon made the mistake of believing that force of arms would defeat the Chosen Children, but if they have no reason to fight, then they’ll never pursue Lord Vamdemon.”
PicoDevimon clears his throat, holding a wing in front of his mouth. “I’ve got a little best-o’-both-worlds suggestion if y’want to hear it, m’lord.”
Vamdemon regards him for a moment, then waves a hand. In the same motion, the bolt of lightning holding Phantomon in place dissipates, and he drops to the ground.
“I happen to know a few people here and there,” PicoDevimon says. “People who, for a modest fee, would be more than happy to help their lord keep the Chosen Children occupied, and make sure their Crests never shine.”
Vamdemon considers this for a moment, then reaches to the table next to him, lifting a glass of red liquid. “Then by all means, PicoDevimon.”
PicoDevimon darts to the mountain range that encircles one side of the great lake first, darting down deep into the space beneath one of the mountains, to a tiny shop nestled in a void of infinite stars.
“Vademon, m’old pal!” PicoDevimon calls, and the slender, large-brained Digimon bustling around the shop’s back room turns towards him. “How’s business?”
“Poor,” Vademon says, drawing out the word. “I take it you aren’t here to buy anything.”
“Nah, got no use for these, er … curiosities,” PicoDevimon says, glancing around the shop. “But boy oh boy, do I have a business opportunity! There’s a kid on top of the mountain with some stellar curiosity. Pull ‘im down here, and you could sell his curiosity on at a premium! People’ll come here from all the way on Folder to bid on it!”
Vademon narrows his eyes. “Tell me more.”
PicoDevimon barely has to look for the Tachikawa girl. Entranced by their friendly demeanour and chivalrous nature, she’s already wandered into the Gekomon kingdom.
They’re preparing her food when he flutters down by a small gang of Gekomon. “Hey, guys, how’s that whole thing with yer boss going?”
The Gekomon’s dour looks suggest that the whole thing with their boss is not, in fact, going well.
“How’s about I let you in on a little secret, eh?” PicoDevimon says, and glances this way and that, shuffling over to the Gekomon. “I heard, I heard, that that girl you’ve got staying with you has a voice that could raise the dead. And your boss ain’t even dead! All yous gotta do is get her to sing him a little song and he’ll be up and about in no time.”
The Gekomon start murmuring among themselves, and PicoDevimon shuffles a wing in front of his mouth.
“Although,” he murmurs, “I guess that means you can’t let her go until she’s sang for you, right?”
He finds Jyou Kido working off a debt he had unwisely racked up at Digitamamon’s Diner, on the lake’s shore.
“Digitamamon, m’old pal,” PicoDevimon says, floating down as the restaurant owner is serving customers.
“You, you are not allowed here anymore,” Digitamamon snaps. “Not after the last time, you hear me? It’s a new restaurant policy, no flyers.”
“Sure, sure,” PicoDevimon says smoothly, waving a wing. “I was just thinkin’, Lord Vamdemon might be persuaded to give you guys his personal seal of approval if you do a little favour for him, y’know?”
Digitamamon narrows his eyes. “Favour?”
“That kid y’got working for him. How long until he pays off his debt?” PicoDevimon asks.
“Eh, not more than a day. He earns his keep,” Digitamamon says. “We had to add a few hours on because of broken dishes, you know.”
“Sorry, sorry, I should’ve been more clear,” PicoDevimon says, and, without breaking eye contact, shoves a box off plates to the floor, shattering them all. “How long until the Kido kid works off his debt? Get what I’m saying?”
He finds Sora Takenouchi next, wandering the forest, too far from civilisation for him to lure her into an easy trap.
He flutters down nearby, waving a wing. “Hey, you’re that kid, riiiight? Sora, was it? One of those fancy Chosen kids.”
Sora blinks at her, even as her partner moves between them. “Do I … know you?”
“Naaah,” PicoDevimon says. “But I sure know you! PicoDevimon’s the name! I don’t know if you know, but I consider myself somethin’ of an, ahem, scholar about those Crests you all found in the Server desert.”
“Our -- our Crests?”
“Right! Like, did you know that they all represent a virtue?” PicoDevimon says. “The floofy-haired kid with the Agumon’s got Courage, and the two blondies’ve got Friendship and Hope. Koushiro Izumi’s got Knowledge, the scrawny kid’s got Reliability, and the girl with the hat’s got Sincerity. Pretty good fit, right?”
He pauses, rubbing his face awkwardly with a wing. “Well. Mostly, I guess.”
Sora blinks at him. “... Mostly?”
“Yeeeeaaaah. Turns out, sometimes you get, I dunno, mistakes. Errors,” PicoDevimon. “‘Cause someone gave you the Crest of Love.”
That has an effect. He sees Sora go pale, curling in on himself slightly, and he stifles his grin into an expression of mournful solemnity. Piyomon turns, looking up at Sora.
“... Sora?”
“Yeah, y’know what I’m talking about,” PicoDevimon says. “‘Cause how can you have the Crest of Love, right? How can you love anybody when you don’t even know what love looks like?”
“That’s -- that’s not …”
“Hey, hey, I’m not judgin’. Not-Judgey PicoDevimon is what they call me,” PicoDevimon says. “I’m just sayin’, we both know you mother’s never loved you, right? Not a single day in your life. Someone who’s never received love can’t love anyone else in return. That’s just not how it works.”
He can see Sora starting to tear up now, so he flutters up to look her in the eye. “Hey, hey, don’t cry! I didn’t mean to upset you! I’m just, you know, saying that nobody has ever loved you and also that you’ll die alone and be eaten by Shiba Inus. If that bothers you, I totally don’t know what to tell you, Sors.”
Piyomon all but shoves him away. “You don’t have to listen to this, Sora!”
“Ri-i-ight,” PicoDevimon says. “You totally don’t have to listen to this. I need to be going anyway! See you soon.”