Yamato Ishida (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
angry_friendship_wolf) wrote2019-03-11 07:58 pm
angry_friendship_wolf) wrote2019-03-11 07:58 pm
[tri OOM] Taking A Detour.
Getting into Goemon’s castle is startlingly easy. They just go to the front gate, say they’re here to announce themselves, and two guards (diminutive little Kotemon, with bamboo swords at their sides) escort them through to the antechamber.
It’s almost the archetypal picture of a Sengoku castle’s antechamber, to the point where Yamato’s not actually convinced that a castle that this perfectly represents the chanbara aesthetic even exists on Earth. Panels painted with sumi-e drawings (not, he notes, of the usual trees and rivers, but instead twisting railroads and trains) line the walls, and the wooden floor of the antechamber is almost bare save for four tatami mats at one end, set around the somewhat incongruous feature of a throne.
His eyes go to the Digimon kneeling on the mats first, and the Analyser chirps as he looks at each of them.
“FlaWizarmon. Adult-Level, Virus-type Demon Man Digimon. Using high-class programming, this magician Digimon can create the appearance of fire magic,” the Analyser announces, as he looks at furthest to the left, a rather raggedy doll the size of a young boy, dressed in red leather with a wizard hat jammed on its head.
“Hi-VisionMonitamon. Perfect-Level, Data-type LCD Digimon,” the Analyser says next, as he turns towards what looks like a tiny, chubby ninja, with its head replaced by a flatscreen television. “An ‘Ace Monitamon’ that possesses unique abilities. It is capable of analysing data rapidly, and can enhance the abilities of Digimon around it.”
He turns to the other side of the throne, towards a Digimon that could be a deadringer for Wizarmon if its robes and cloak weren’t white, and the Analyser gives a quick processing noise. “Sorcerymon. Adult-Level, Vaccine-type Demon Man Digimon. It is adept in ice and snow sorcery, and its prayers can heal wounds through a holy power.”
Finally, he turns to the last, some kind of bipedal yellow fox. “Renamon. Child-Level, Data-type Beast Man Digimon. A calm, cool, and collected Digimon with the appearance of a golden fox.”
The Digimon on the throne gives a low rumble, rising to his feet. “Are you done analysing my Grand Generals, human?”
Yamato arches an eyebrow, turning towards the Digimon. This -- this must be Goemon. He looks the part, some kind of seven-foot tall biomechanical ninja, with a white and red kimono fluttering about him, a fox mask on his face, and no less than eight swords strapped to his back.
“Nearly,” Yamato says, raising his wrist computer.
“Goemon. Perfect-Level, Virus-type Mutant Digimon. A bandit king wielding eight holy swords, Goemon’s capricious nature is matched only by the fierceness with which he takes to battle.”
“Enough of this,” Goemon rumbles, reaching for a sword on his back. “You come here claiming that you wish to announce yourself to me, then act like spies scurrying through my castle for scraps of information.”
Yamato tugs aside his jacket, pulling his digivice up, and holds it at Goemon’s eye level. As the Digimon pauses, he pulls his Crest pendant from under his shirt as well, raising it so that it catches the light.
It feels fraudulent, somehow, to be leveraging powers, status, and a destiny he doesn’t really have anymore. But if Koushiro’s languishing in a dungeon somewhere, Yamato doesn’t have time to be picky about how he goes about this.
“You must know that the Reboot has stolen our memory from us,” Goemon says, although his voice is more level now. “But I do recognise the holy device, and I recognise the Crest of Friendship, even if its light has faded.”
“The young man in your dungeons, and the Digimon he came with,” Yamato says, tucking the Crest away. “He’s one of our number, not a spy. We’d like him returned.”
“Oho?” Goemon asks, shaking his head. “And go where? The only way to go from here is north, and nobody passes down those routes anymore.”
Takeru frowns. “The Hanumon, right? How long have they been here?”
“Weeks now. That damn shapeshifter rounded up the bandits and mercenaries in the area and turned them into his own personal guards, protecting the castle over yonder, above the Great Lake,” Goemon says, turning and padding back to his throne. “All trade was cut off with the Great Lake Area. Worse than that, the shapeshifter still isn’t satisfied. He harasses every Trailmon that comes close to town, and every Trailmon that leaves, and he’s growing more paranoid and more bold by the day.”
“The Mystery Man is trying to protect something -- someone -- he’s keeping there,” Yamato says.
“A friend of ours,” Mimi adds.
“This town is in striking distance of Castle Vamdemon, it’s no wonder he wants you gone,” Yamato says.
“Aye, and he isn’t stopping there,” Goemon says. “When he realised he couldn’t starve us out, he started gathering his forces along the border line. A thousand Hanumon, two thousand Troopmon, and a thousand Bakemon, along with whatever vagrants and criminals he could convince to join up with him. It’s an invasion force, and it’ll overrun this town before long.”
“You don’t think you can fend him off?” Yamato asks. “You’ve got two Perfect-levels right here, and there’s got to be more in the town.”
“We’re a trading town, not a fortress,” Goemon replies. “And as the shapeshifter, this Mystery Man of yours, was quick to remind us, he has an ace up his sleeve.”
“MetalEtemon,” Mimi says.
“An Ultimate-level Digimon, if you can believe such a thing,” Goemon says. “Every Digimon in the whole town wouldn’t be able to fend him off, even if we were all working together. There’s nowhere for us to evacuate to, nowhere for us to hide, so we’re just waiting here to die. Now, you’re waiting here with us.”
“And our friends? Keeping them locked up does nothing to help you.”
“Aye, your friends, the lad with the red hair and the plant Digimon. I’ll release them to your custody,” Goemon says, waving a hand. “But if you want to leave, you should be prepared to meet your end out in the desert. Your Mystery Man may have let you slip through his fingers once, but he won’t a second time.”
Yamato hears Takeru hum softly behind him. Then: “Give me a day or two, and I can find us a way up north to Castle Vamdemon, aniki. A diversion here, a few less-traveled routes there, and I can get us close without anyone -- …”
“No.”
He doesn’t see Takeru tense up, but he can practically feel it. The boy’s glaring so hard at the back of his head that it’s like having a heat ray directed straight at his skull.
Goemon gives a low chuckle, tilting his head back to regard Yamato down the nose of his fox mask.
“We aren’t just going to leave you to die,” Yamato says, meeting his gaze. “We’ll stay. And we’ll help you fend off this attack.”
“Exactly!” Mimi beams. “We can’t turn down someone in need.”
“None of us can fight right now,” Takeru says, flatly. “We’re just adding eight more people to the pile of bodies. I mean, unless that’s what you want. Lately it’s tough to tell.”
“Careful,” Yamato growls, turning to give Takeru a sidelong look. His brother shrinks back slightly.
He frowns, then turns towards Mimi.
“Mimi,” he says. “I need you to start recruiting. Find any people in town willing to take part in the defence. Find a way to send a letter to TonosamaGekomon, too. If the Great Lake Area wasn’t Rebooted, he should still remember that he’s got debts to you that he’s left unpaid.”
“Recruiting and blackmail, my two favourite jobs,” Mimi says, just a little bit wryly.
“Once you release Koushiro,” Yamato says to Goemon. “We can have him begin fortifying the town. He’ll need maps, and a full rundown of the numbers and resources you have available to you.”
“As you like,” Goemon rumbles. “Although as it stands, I only have some two-hundred guards in my forces.”
“Well, that’s what Mimi’s recruiting drive is for.”
“I’m going to make posters,” Mimi adds.
“Kiddo,” Yamato says, turning towards Takeru. “You need to find places where we can secure any non-combatants, when the time comes, and I want you to scout out places to set up field hospitals and clinics while you’re at it. Once you’ve done that, you can join Koushiro on fortifying the town.”
Takeru scowls. Yamato can tell he’s thinking of protesting, but instead he just gives a flat: “Yes, aniki. What are you going to do?”
“There’s still MetalEtemon to deal with. We don’t have any Ultimate-levels to face him, and even if we did, that Chrondigizoit armour of his can’t be penetrated by a direct attack,” Yamato says. “So I guess it’s my job to figure out how to break open the ultimate defense and kill him. For good, this time.”
It’s almost the archetypal picture of a Sengoku castle’s antechamber, to the point where Yamato’s not actually convinced that a castle that this perfectly represents the chanbara aesthetic even exists on Earth. Panels painted with sumi-e drawings (not, he notes, of the usual trees and rivers, but instead twisting railroads and trains) line the walls, and the wooden floor of the antechamber is almost bare save for four tatami mats at one end, set around the somewhat incongruous feature of a throne.
His eyes go to the Digimon kneeling on the mats first, and the Analyser chirps as he looks at each of them.
“FlaWizarmon. Adult-Level, Virus-type Demon Man Digimon. Using high-class programming, this magician Digimon can create the appearance of fire magic,” the Analyser announces, as he looks at furthest to the left, a rather raggedy doll the size of a young boy, dressed in red leather with a wizard hat jammed on its head.
“Hi-VisionMonitamon. Perfect-Level, Data-type LCD Digimon,” the Analyser says next, as he turns towards what looks like a tiny, chubby ninja, with its head replaced by a flatscreen television. “An ‘Ace Monitamon’ that possesses unique abilities. It is capable of analysing data rapidly, and can enhance the abilities of Digimon around it.”
He turns to the other side of the throne, towards a Digimon that could be a deadringer for Wizarmon if its robes and cloak weren’t white, and the Analyser gives a quick processing noise. “Sorcerymon. Adult-Level, Vaccine-type Demon Man Digimon. It is adept in ice and snow sorcery, and its prayers can heal wounds through a holy power.”
Finally, he turns to the last, some kind of bipedal yellow fox. “Renamon. Child-Level, Data-type Beast Man Digimon. A calm, cool, and collected Digimon with the appearance of a golden fox.”
The Digimon on the throne gives a low rumble, rising to his feet. “Are you done analysing my Grand Generals, human?”
Yamato arches an eyebrow, turning towards the Digimon. This -- this must be Goemon. He looks the part, some kind of seven-foot tall biomechanical ninja, with a white and red kimono fluttering about him, a fox mask on his face, and no less than eight swords strapped to his back.
“Nearly,” Yamato says, raising his wrist computer.
“Goemon. Perfect-Level, Virus-type Mutant Digimon. A bandit king wielding eight holy swords, Goemon’s capricious nature is matched only by the fierceness with which he takes to battle.”
“Enough of this,” Goemon rumbles, reaching for a sword on his back. “You come here claiming that you wish to announce yourself to me, then act like spies scurrying through my castle for scraps of information.”
Yamato tugs aside his jacket, pulling his digivice up, and holds it at Goemon’s eye level. As the Digimon pauses, he pulls his Crest pendant from under his shirt as well, raising it so that it catches the light.
It feels fraudulent, somehow, to be leveraging powers, status, and a destiny he doesn’t really have anymore. But if Koushiro’s languishing in a dungeon somewhere, Yamato doesn’t have time to be picky about how he goes about this.
“You must know that the Reboot has stolen our memory from us,” Goemon says, although his voice is more level now. “But I do recognise the holy device, and I recognise the Crest of Friendship, even if its light has faded.”
“The young man in your dungeons, and the Digimon he came with,” Yamato says, tucking the Crest away. “He’s one of our number, not a spy. We’d like him returned.”
“Oho?” Goemon asks, shaking his head. “And go where? The only way to go from here is north, and nobody passes down those routes anymore.”
Takeru frowns. “The Hanumon, right? How long have they been here?”
“Weeks now. That damn shapeshifter rounded up the bandits and mercenaries in the area and turned them into his own personal guards, protecting the castle over yonder, above the Great Lake,” Goemon says, turning and padding back to his throne. “All trade was cut off with the Great Lake Area. Worse than that, the shapeshifter still isn’t satisfied. He harasses every Trailmon that comes close to town, and every Trailmon that leaves, and he’s growing more paranoid and more bold by the day.”
“The Mystery Man is trying to protect something -- someone -- he’s keeping there,” Yamato says.
“A friend of ours,” Mimi adds.
“This town is in striking distance of Castle Vamdemon, it’s no wonder he wants you gone,” Yamato says.
“Aye, and he isn’t stopping there,” Goemon says. “When he realised he couldn’t starve us out, he started gathering his forces along the border line. A thousand Hanumon, two thousand Troopmon, and a thousand Bakemon, along with whatever vagrants and criminals he could convince to join up with him. It’s an invasion force, and it’ll overrun this town before long.”
“You don’t think you can fend him off?” Yamato asks. “You’ve got two Perfect-levels right here, and there’s got to be more in the town.”
“We’re a trading town, not a fortress,” Goemon replies. “And as the shapeshifter, this Mystery Man of yours, was quick to remind us, he has an ace up his sleeve.”
“MetalEtemon,” Mimi says.
“An Ultimate-level Digimon, if you can believe such a thing,” Goemon says. “Every Digimon in the whole town wouldn’t be able to fend him off, even if we were all working together. There’s nowhere for us to evacuate to, nowhere for us to hide, so we’re just waiting here to die. Now, you’re waiting here with us.”
“And our friends? Keeping them locked up does nothing to help you.”
“Aye, your friends, the lad with the red hair and the plant Digimon. I’ll release them to your custody,” Goemon says, waving a hand. “But if you want to leave, you should be prepared to meet your end out in the desert. Your Mystery Man may have let you slip through his fingers once, but he won’t a second time.”
Yamato hears Takeru hum softly behind him. Then: “Give me a day or two, and I can find us a way up north to Castle Vamdemon, aniki. A diversion here, a few less-traveled routes there, and I can get us close without anyone -- …”
“No.”
He doesn’t see Takeru tense up, but he can practically feel it. The boy’s glaring so hard at the back of his head that it’s like having a heat ray directed straight at his skull.
Goemon gives a low chuckle, tilting his head back to regard Yamato down the nose of his fox mask.
“We aren’t just going to leave you to die,” Yamato says, meeting his gaze. “We’ll stay. And we’ll help you fend off this attack.”
“Exactly!” Mimi beams. “We can’t turn down someone in need.”
“None of us can fight right now,” Takeru says, flatly. “We’re just adding eight more people to the pile of bodies. I mean, unless that’s what you want. Lately it’s tough to tell.”
“Careful,” Yamato growls, turning to give Takeru a sidelong look. His brother shrinks back slightly.
He frowns, then turns towards Mimi.
“Mimi,” he says. “I need you to start recruiting. Find any people in town willing to take part in the defence. Find a way to send a letter to TonosamaGekomon, too. If the Great Lake Area wasn’t Rebooted, he should still remember that he’s got debts to you that he’s left unpaid.”
“Recruiting and blackmail, my two favourite jobs,” Mimi says, just a little bit wryly.
“Once you release Koushiro,” Yamato says to Goemon. “We can have him begin fortifying the town. He’ll need maps, and a full rundown of the numbers and resources you have available to you.”
“As you like,” Goemon rumbles. “Although as it stands, I only have some two-hundred guards in my forces.”
“Well, that’s what Mimi’s recruiting drive is for.”
“I’m going to make posters,” Mimi adds.
“Kiddo,” Yamato says, turning towards Takeru. “You need to find places where we can secure any non-combatants, when the time comes, and I want you to scout out places to set up field hospitals and clinics while you’re at it. Once you’ve done that, you can join Koushiro on fortifying the town.”
Takeru scowls. Yamato can tell he’s thinking of protesting, but instead he just gives a flat: “Yes, aniki. What are you going to do?”
“There’s still MetalEtemon to deal with. We don’t have any Ultimate-levels to face him, and even if we did, that Chrondigizoit armour of his can’t be penetrated by a direct attack,” Yamato says. “So I guess it’s my job to figure out how to break open the ultimate defense and kill him. For good, this time.”