Open; Tonight Tonight Tonight

[asheaveniswide]

Who: Zenos viator Galvus, Gabumon, Mystery Guests
What: Catch-all/intro/etc
Where: Access City
When: Early May
Warnings: Some behavior may be deemed offensive, violent or inciting. Do not use as a projectile. Sudden acceleration to dangerous speeds may cause injury. This Garlean is not designed to sustain gross weight exceeding 12,000 lbs. May contain the following: gore, mayhem, swords, scythes, violence, obsession, Gabumon, speeches, ennui, Endwalker spoilers and a lack of morals. Do not eat. Mis-use may adversely affect your health. Store in a cool, dry place.



In The Dark Of The Night

It's late. Very late; dawn might only be a handful of hours away, and the shadows are deep and all-consuming, the halos of streetlights and the glow from windows comforting pools of light in an otherwise dark and gloomy night.

And in the dark is the sound of something heavy being dragged. And rather slowly at that. There's much that could be getting towed about in Access City, but this ... also has the metallic scent of blood with it, and sharp eyes might note a long path through the patches of darkness where lamp and street light don't touch, marked in drying red. The generalized path, if one were to follow it for any length of time, seems to be headed towards where the arrived Tamers have been offered homes, albeit in a route that seems maximized to try to stay hidden.

But not much can be hidden forever, and as the persistent efforts of dragging rasp through the space between two buildings, it stops for a time - just long enough for a lone black-pelted Gabumon to peek out, eyes bright and alert, to see if anyone might have noticed, then disappear back into the alley in a Completely Unsuspicious Way. Nothing at all is happening here, surely!

In the shadows between buildings, a blond man lay in the ground, blood-speckled fingers neatly folded across his belly, eyes closed. The blood's either his or on something he's wearing, the coat rather fancy to quick glance but awfully ragged about the shoulders, full of tears and punctures, and he himself not moving. Definitely breathing, and there's a twitch now and again as Gabumon once more seizes the shoulder of his jacket in sharp teeth and begins hauling him backwards along the ground bit by bit by bit. He must be rather heavy, by the way the small digimon has to dig in all four sets of claws to get enough purchase to move his considerable bulk.

That digimon has been at it for quite a long time now by the trail. Persistence pays off, surely, sooner or later!!

The Stale Cold Smell Of Morning

With sunrise and some Adventures at night, Gabumon has ventured out presumably on his own! What's one more Gabumon, really? Sure, he's got black fur instead of white, but that's not that uncommon!

What might be more uncommon is the way he's weighing the morning crowds, looking, listening, searching for -- Aha!

What he needs is humans. Or what looks enough like humans; any will do, and as soon as he spots one that doesn't look particularly dangerous, he approaches with all apparent boldness. A tap on an elbow, or tug on a hem - anything he needs to do to get some attention will do!

"Excuse me! You're a human, right?" It's never wise to assume! There's some awfully human looking digimon.

Comments

In the Dark of the Nighth

[aetherweaver]

Nara'a prefers the nighttime. Maybe it's because of being a Keeper of the Moon, maybe it's because he works with magicks that take practice and night is quieter, or maybe it's the crisp air that he prefers. Either way he does enjoy his nighttime walks when he can't sleep, and Kotemon is reluctantly trudging along at his side, carrying his weapon with him. Nara'a stops when he smells something, though. It's almost like... blood?

He picks up speed, following the scent to its source. The dragging sounds catch his ear and he pulls out his rapier and focus, prepared to offer healing to whomever it is, but - but he stops as the glow illuminates one of the last people he'd have expected to see here. Kotemon picks his shinai up as he senses a flood of emotion from his Tamer.

"Zenos?" He should be angry, he should be frustrated, but all he can muster is a sad tone. The man who'd caused so much pain and despair, and here he was... covered in blood and barely moving.

The Stale Cold Smell Of Morning

[fallenstarmagnet]

Given his height, Themis has probably gotten used to discerning tugs at the hem of his robe as a way of getting his attention. On feeling this occur, he looks down. What had he been doing? People watching; it's something he commonly does and the locals of the area have probably gotten used to it.

"Human?" Well it's not like he hasn't heard the word before and it's usually attributed to many Tamers or toward a type of digimon- humanoid if you will. Themis then smiles and offers.

"If you're looking for a Tamer, I would say I'm one. And I'm certainly a member of mankind." By his peoples' standards anyway. "May I inquire why you are searching for a human?"

It's best to find out what's the actual issue; then Themis can determine whether he's able to help or might direct Gabumon to another.

Elecmon? This early in the morning, she's probably nested down for a bit more sleep in his hood. For now anyway.