SOLO DIGIMON
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Post by Dote on Oct 9, 2017 18:36:22 GMT
Dote's mind was filled with relief as he believed someone was finally about to lay down the law, create a real pecking order. He didn't mind that little miss Dolcemon failed to hit him again, he'd forgotten he was hit twice in the first place. He lifted a clawed mitt promptly in a placating manner from his relaxed pose on the ground. Fully invested in allowing the talkative one to be boss if Leader wasn't going to get in her way.
Then, apparently, Leader's brilliant plan was exposed. That was probably what was happening, at least in Dote's eyes, as Wiseguy was whisked away along with everything else at the picnic. Dote didn't much mind that all the food was gone, he was just happy that he didn't have to make anymore decisions for the time being. He only needed to follow the leader like he was conscripted to do in the not-so-distant past.
He diligently and deliberately plodded slowly along after the clown fiesta of child-level digimon making a big ruckus in the large park. Completely uncaring of all the people who were probably starting to take their phones out and catch funny little videos of the doll being dragged through the mud by the slightly restrained bug man. Nothing to worry about there whatsoever. He just kept trying to close the distance between himself and those more important people.
Should they, at some point, stop it was more than a real possibility that he would barrel into one of them at his very slow pace. He'd absolutely do that.
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Post by Skitter on Oct 10, 2017 4:14:43 GMT
Jerk. Jerk. Jerk. JERK. Jerk. Jerk. Skitter had been very specific in mentioning that he was to be addressed as Skitter, nor jerk. He later muddled this notion by claiming to be leader. Didn't matter. However obscure and hard to follow his directions were, he didn't like being called a jerk, and now, not only was he addressed as such, he was addressed as a jerkprick.
Skitter lifted the edge of the cloth and tucked it into his restrained hand, whilst his good hand gripped the cord that attached his blade to his arm. He wasn't going to let this end peacefully. Spinning with precise control thanks to his many legs, he whipped the cloth, that unbeknownst to him, had bound Wiseguy and tossed it over his shoulder, sack style. Using his good arm, he whipped the blade down in the direction the voice had come from. It dug down with a squelch, cleanly bisecting... an empty expanse of grass.
A cold sweat dripped down Skitter's neck. He was sure the voice came from behind him. He could see the Fat Dog slowly approaching, but the small one was nowhere in sight. Such skill, such domineering combat prowess, such amazing intuition, or whatever the explanation may be, his attack had been seen through. Skitter held his breath. Had he made a tell? It had been so fast he was sure he caught them by surprise.
"Stop hide!" Skitter dragged his blade back towards himself while scanning the area for his 'adversary'. He was displaying some bravado, but truth be told, he was wary of his opponent. The ability necessary to avoid his surprise attack without leaving a trace was not something he was prepared to compete with.
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Post by wiseguy on Oct 10, 2017 4:36:00 GMT
One of the many simple suggestions born of self-preservation was simply to not agitate and taunt one’s captor. When it came to Wiseguy, her petty sense of pride and fear of her own inadequacies often superseded self-preservation to the point it was a miracle she was still alive. Faced with a near-miss of a bisection, she did what any reasonable doll would do: gloat. While she remained daze she started to write an entire conversation in her head, planning to really tell him once she stopped being nauseous.
The jumbled mess of a telling off she wrote vanished once she realized that things had at least slowed down.This was going to be her moment. While Skitter was distracted with Hyde, she was going to free herself, roll out, and try to remember the speech she wrote. As one might expect, she, after a few brief milliseconds of trying to untie the knot the bound her, completely gave up, after swearing up her second storm of the day. She was going to have to be creative if she was going to free herself. It was then that she her lack of self-preservation struck her once more. “Ha! You miththed me, tough guy!” She jeered.
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Post by Dote on Oct 10, 2017 4:45:56 GMT
Dote was the casual observer, watching all the action. It was his preferred role. Following orders. Orders like stop hiding, which after he heard he climbed onto two legs instead of crawling around on all fours like an infant. Unsteadily approaching the randomly flailing blade of Skitter and the even more unpredictably sharp tongue of Wiseguy, Dote kept his hands up. It was like he was hugging the air.
Hugging the air or trying to use it to crawl while walking maybe, it wasn't very graceful. His graceless pants and hurried breath accompanied him as he sought to keep his betters company.
"No one's here. Just me." He said, getting closer to the stalled Skitter. "Can I have a break."
He collapsed a small way away from the two, probably on one of the blunt sides of Skitter's hand blade that was sticking out of the grass, letting out several huffs and a few puffs. Dote had done more anything than he'd usually do in a year.
"I'll be good, let's sit down."
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Post by Skitter on Oct 10, 2017 8:10:38 GMT
Oh god. Skitter hadn't thought the situation could get any worse, but now he was screwed entirely. The first thing he noticed was the voice coming from directly behind him. He felt a shiver down his spine as he turned his burlap sacked head and peered at the doll hanging over his shoulder. She seemed to have cleverly tethered herself to the cloth he had grabbed, and was now in prime position to deliver a death blow.
When Skitter yanked on his cord to respond by swinging his blade frantically, he found it was firmly held in place. His worst nightmare was transpiring. The fat dog was now holding the blade while it was stabbed into the ground. Despite his scary appearance, Skitter wasn't very strong. He was unable to free the blade or displace the Dog.
He had the doll behind him, primed and ready to kill him at a moment's notice. He had the dog sealing his blade, so he couldn't attack or defend himself with it. Then it started talking, saying things like 'break' and 'sit down'. Skitter was too frantic to understand entirely, but he assumed these were threats, and they were working on him.
"I-I surrender." Skitter released his grip on the cloth, allowing the Doll to fall to the ground. He also curled his torso into a coil, and 'sat' down.
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Post by wiseguy on Oct 11, 2017 0:40:27 GMT
Wiseguy’s plan was a bit more complex. She thought was aiming to have the worm guy swing his senselessly sharp blade at her once more, only for her to expertly dodge and have the tablecloth cleaved in her stead. Simply being freed was pretty disappointing. Before she could muse on the lie she would tell, she finally made contact with the ground, face first. Luckily for Wiseguy, she was a stuffed toy, so she was at least able to cushion her own faceplant.
What managed to save it all was what was said, or what was said twice. Two different variations on the theme of “I yield” had crossed Wiseguy’s ears. With some shaking and struggling, she stood up. As a result of being dragged, the entirety of her front was a mess of grass, soil, and asphalt. She had never gotten this far, which was a running theme for her today. This had been her goal, and after so much posturing and saber-rattling she stumbled into it by mistake.
Her silence was eventually cut by the most pretentious, snobby chortle that could possibly leave a doll. The stereotypical rich-girl laugh was cut short once Wiseguy began to speak once more, ”Yeah. That’th right, you’re gonna thit down.” She snarled, giving both her apparent adversaries the daggers in her eyes. Her maddog moxie came to a brief halt, ”The thix of you. . .” She uttered in an uncharacteristic meekness that was followed up with her joining the sit-in by falling on her back, unconscious.
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Post by Dote on Oct 11, 2017 1:05:47 GMT
This was... this was going terribly. The promising bossman had seemingly seeded his position and the doll's attempt to grab control was meager, wavering, a pipedream at best. Something had to be done. Order was collapsing around Dote as the vacuum of leadership weighed on his conscious. The pressure of having to decide what to do so he wouldn't have to decide what to do in the future. The possibilities were endless, he could carpe those diems more ways than a carp had scales.
A dizzied Dote made a drastic decision.
"Sh-shut up, you're not the boss!"
He proclaimed, facing Wiseguy. His proclamation wasn't exactly loud, forceful, or demanding. It was an exceedingly average tone to take. Then, he took action! Dote clambered around the blade and Skitter before going for the pin.
1...2...
Dote wrestled a sure victory for his leader, the now properly respected Skitter. He gave a thumbs up to Skitter so that bossman got the message.
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Post by Skitter on Oct 11, 2017 3:40:08 GMT
From a loss to a victory. That is how Skitter viewed this situation. He didn't think he had overestimated his opponents though. He was positive that the doll had done something truly impressive to get behind him. The Fat Dog had managed to skillfully suppress his blade. They had unquestionably good teamwork, and had him backed into a corner.
The reason Skitter had misread the situation so badly was simply because... he underestimated himself. His decision to slam the doll down onto the ground by releasing the cloth, and his masterful taunting to get the Fat Dog to release the blade, and fall lazily into a pile with the doll was so tactically brilliant that he wasn't even aware he had done it. But obviously he had, otherwise why would they both be grounded and motionless?
Skitter smiled under his sack, his clackity insect-like pincers gnashing menacingly. He looked down at the two piled on top of one another as if looking at a plate of the finest cuisine. Casually, he yanked his blade towards his hand, so he could cut through the meat before him. He was watching the 'meal' as the blade whipped up and clonked him in the head, knocking him forward and down onto said 'meal'. He had joined the pile.
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Post by wiseguy on Oct 11, 2017 4:39:09 GMT
Usually dark darkness forced Wiseguy into an odd claustrophobic corner. She was seated at a small ornate table, with nothing but a teapot and a chipped tea cup in front of her. While she mostly sat in silence, occasionally, just occasionally, she could hear a tap which was always followed up a frantic scurrying. Something compelled her to pour herself a drink, although she did not feel thirsty. At first she kept herself from touching the teapot, but as time passed and the scurrying closer she found it all but impossible to resist. Green tea, with the slightest hint of mint. She was just disappointed. All that build up and it was just actual tea. Calming down, she took a sip, where it turned it spiders in her mouth. Now, she was just angry. Just how could she be gotten by the oldest trick in the book? Who even had the disrespect to… of course! There was only one creature that could skitter like that! She turned, and the room was quickly illuminated, and there she was, “Your… elbows are on the table! Kekekekekekekekekeke. Poor fooooooooooooooooooooorm!” Maidmon screeched, jer jaw unhinging. Faced with this nightmare, Dolcemon threw the entire teapot at her head, ”Get... out... of... here..., won’t... ya?” She taunted, struggling to say every word, as if she had a heavy weight on her chest. It was then that the mass of crows lept from Maidmon’s maw, and-- Wiseguy’s eyes weakly opened. She was certainly out of it, and for whatever reason her head was pounding. Once she caught herself she quickly realized she wasn’t in the old lady’s house anymore, and more urgently she was outside. Taking in the surroundings, Wiseguy thought to herself, ‘Man, these would be some swanky digs for a tea party.’ After several attempts at moving, she came to a more obviously realization; two digimon she had never seen in her life were stacked on top of her. She handled this with all the grace and poise one might expect, ”Get offa me you friggin’ pervertth!” She shouted, squirming and struggling under the weight of two fleshy digimon. |
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Post by Dote on Oct 11, 2017 5:14:31 GMT
"Uuughuahh." Was all Dote could say to being burdened by the weight of his new boss. He could only assume that was his position in life, that this was what his leader wanted. He definitely didn't think that nearly-lethal attack was a nearly-lethal attack at all. It wasn't like he couldn't have taken it, he was used to being whipped by claws and the like.
The more important thing was that he was finally comfortable. Getting a nice bit of nap on, like he was in a pile of toys. The rest of the world around them didn't matter much while the Phascomon in the middle started to doze off, just like his name implied! Wait...
Trouble reared its ugly head like usual, more specifically trouble reared her rather-doll-like-and-far-from-ugly head yet again. "M-mendokusai..." He started to slowly struggle and try to pull Skitter off of Wiseguy while he was at it. He knew that the law was a very serious business and the massive amount of litigation this potential harassment, was it assault?, would bring was just too much work. He didn't get to laze off.
It was a cruel world when where a mon let his head lie would place him in 2 to 5 years of jail time with a decent chance of parole and permanent residence on a special list. He just barely managed to scoot himself and his boss off of the little doll, promptly getting back into a restful state before Skitter started up again.
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Post by Skitter on Oct 11, 2017 6:39:06 GMT
Skitter would have surely responded to being called a pervert but he wasn't conscious. Unfortunately for the other two digimon present, Skitter was far from motionless after the initial impact. He was resting peacefully at first, but the Fat Dog had the bright idea of moving him. He pulled and yanked on Skitter until he was no longer sitting on the Doll. This seemed well intentioned, but Skitter began to spasm like a snake with its head cut off. His long torso writhed and spiraled, rolling about, and flipping his upper body every which way. His legs jerked too and fro, dragging him around, but not generating much distance.
He flipped about until finally another impact with the ground caused his body to jolt to a stop. There were a few twitches, a couple blinks of his large eye, and finally, Skitter regained consciousness. He sat up and looked about, noticing several gashes in the ground. Unbeknownst to Skitter, while he was flailing about, a large and sharp blade attached to him was also flailing about. This caused it to bounce about and tear up quite a bit of grass.
"Masu? What happen? Fight?" Skitter could only question in his surprise, wondering what he could have possibly missed. How long had he been out? Must be a powerful enemy nearby or something.
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Post by wiseguy on Oct 11, 2017 8:06:37 GMT
She cradled her head, which did nothing to soothe the mysterious ache. It was her was laying there with not one, but two heavier digimon atop her, yet it was not her who struck the earliest of last nerves. She struggled to fight back the urge to headbut Dote, knocking full well that would only make things worse. Instead, she went back to her old ways of instigating those who were in an advantageous position. His words rattled around in her throbbing head, adding fuel to the fire. However, once Dote managed to get himself off of Wiseguy, she was able to leap up. Sometimes it was the small things that truly enraged the even smaller digimon, ”Mendokuthai!?” She repeated in astonished disbelief. After all, she was at the bottom of the pile, so if it was trouble for anyone it was certainly her. She reached around for something to strike Dote with, luckily finding an incredibly convenient big rock. Ready to thwack this stranger in the temple for the first time ever, she lept, I’ll thhow you 'trouble'!” Wiseguy threatened, with the ferocity of a housecat. Her journey to brain Dote was halted. As much as her head hurt, she was still light on her feet. With a guillotine coming between her and her sluggish Koala adversary, she had to back off if only slightly. If she was going bash this bastard, she was going to have to go the long way. Thankfully, the source of the blade came to, and threw in some hype. Clutching her rock, Wiseguy grinned, Yeah! A fight, I got a fight for that 'troubled' rat right here!” Ready to leap once more, she stopped. Given the second she needed, she was able to process what was said through her traumatically injured brain. She lowered her rock and looked on to Skitter with concern. Just why was she here? And why were these two on top her? “Wait… a fight!?” She asked, “What happened here? Who are you? And who does he think he friggin' ith!?” She pointed her rock at Dote on the last question. |
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Post by Dote on Oct 11, 2017 18:51:00 GMT
Everything was confusing. Everyone was being confused, especially Dote even though he had suffered the fewest head trauma between the three of them. He wasn't confused for the same reason as everyone else though, he was worried about whether or not his boss had a nightmare or something. The centipede-y fellow was thrashing about so wildly that was the only plausible explanation.
What was worse, after Skitter woke from his(?) nightmare Dote heard him start talking about ganking some goon. That sounded like work, and Dote was as opposed to work as two negative magnets. There wasn't anyone to fight though, maybe he was asking a question. The chatty one who kept petting Dote seemed interested in a fight too. Were they fighting right now? That was worse than fighting in the future. He had to take a breath, sit down and figure out the situation. Which meant he had no time to think about what the rock Wiseguy was carrying was for.
"Ooooh... He's boss, says fight... She's uh, she's tea?" He scratched his head while mumbling.
"I'm Dote, right? Was it Dotè, probably not. Avoided coup, tea party... Yeah." He lightly padded a balled up paw against an open hand as a sign he'd fully understood what was going on.
All this continuity planning had him exhausted though. Despite knowing a fight was in the future he decided to yawn and take a quick nap, scratching his belly and getting to sleep comically fast.
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Post by Skitter on Oct 12, 2017 3:34:04 GMT
Why so many questions? Skitter was just now starting to gather his thoughts and now these guys were adding disorder to the order to the disorder. How was a man to cope with that? Skitter looked back and forth between the two, catching bits of what they were saying. It didn't make much sense, but that didn't stop him from trying to comprehend the happenings.
"What happened here..." He repeated small phrases that entered his ear, before blurting out another one completely at random. "Tea party..." Wait, tea party? Wasn't that what they had just done? The thing with the food... and... the food?!!? Skitter quickly flattened out the cloth he had initially stolen. He laid it flat on the ground, noticing several broken chunks of china, and a carton of tea.
"Tea party. Food." There was nothing to worry about if he could get something to eat, so he just sat there, pointing down at the cloth. Surely if the Doll was able to get so much food the first time, she would be able to get some more. Skitter might be a genius, but he didn't know the complex and difficult intricacies of procuring food in this world. As far as he could tell, it was nearly impossible to acquire food in this place.
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Post by wiseguy on Oct 12, 2017 6:46:44 GMT
Throughout the already disjointed explanation, Wiseguy’s phased in and out of consciousness. However, she wasn’t going to ask for any repeats, her pride wouldn’t let her. From the bits and pieces she gathered, there had been a tea party. All signs led to the tea party having gone arry in some manner. Generally the china used at a tea party was kept in good shape, if so much as a crack was found… well, then someone was going to be given to the Fanbeemon. This party’s tea set looked suspiciously like the old lady’s treasured china, or at least, partially like said old lady’s china.
She certainly didn’t have the wherewithal to play detective, not while she was dizzy, and in pain. As much as she wanted to blow these too off, and go back to planning her own tea party, there was something in the how that left her very concerned. Even with her blinking in and out of reality, she was able to keep up with Dote. However, everything that Dote said was simply a problem. What caused alarm was his return to his lecherous ways, “Tea? Like hell, you’re not drinkin’ me, you rat prick.” She, however, dropped the rock. As much as she wanted to clock the rat, she knew damn well she had to keep her distance.
The creepy one did bring up an excellent point. While many of the vital components for a tea party were present, they seemed to be lacking the glue that held it all together: food. While she had no food on her, Wiseguy, garnered a clever plan. If she was going to get ahead in the human world, she was going to have to have to earn some favors, especially from goons with attached blades. Pointing to herself with a confident thumb, Wiseguy grinned, ”Yeah. No problem, I know just how to thpruthe up thith tea party.” Proudly proclaimed the master of illusions.
She turned her back, and once again, surrounded herself with blu--no...green smoke? She expressed several confused curses, that would be drowned out by construction noises blasting from the fading smoke. Once the smoke cleared, she laid there, face down in front of a very peculiar arrangement of drunken noodles, doughnuts, tamales, and chili. There was something upsetting about her entire illusory feast, something subtly off.
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