AlteredTundra

Going Viral: A Digimon RP

Just a reminder to anyone interested in joining: only 9 days remain!

Edenridge

_{A @metanoia & @LovelyComplex collaboration
TIMESTAMP || After “Because of You}
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The sight of his mother isn’t what Danny feared. It was watching her hide all her pain behind her beautiful smile. Unbeknownst to Danilo, in the past week, his mother’s health took a dramatic turn for the worse and she was now in hospice. No one told him, not his dad and not Cat — he had no idea that she was only given two weeks to live. If only his family were better at handling fragile things like this. If only he knew.

There was a feeling deep inside him, in his gut, that told him to keep visiting her. Everyday. No matter how much it hurts to at least give her a kiss on the forehead. Today he decided it was the day he would show his boyfriend off to the best person in his life. The person who gave him a strong foundation to move forward without fear. The person who taught him how to live and be happy. The person who loved him more than anyone else in this world would. He knew, he just knew no one could replace the love she has for him and his sisters.

This was his chance to show her all the empathy she’s given him, to show her how much he’s grown, both body and soul, and to show her that he found his person. As he deeply stared at the door, beside his boyfriend, showered and dressed for his day, he thought to himself about her destination after this.

What was heaven?

To have faith means when you’re in complete darkness, the worst you’ve ever experienced, with no light in sight, you see hope within yourself. You sing. But what was heaven to him? Heaven could mean so many things to different people. Heaven could mean nothing. He could believe that at the end of the day, once you're dead, you’re dead and your body returns to the soil. He could believe there was nothing more to that. He could believe in many things. Yet his belief in what happens after was simple.

Danny wasn’t one for complexities. In his honest opinion, to him, if you were loved and you weren’t alone, that was heaven. So many people say there’s a heaven after we die, waiting for us. How could God allow such a faithful woman to become this sick? To put her in so much pain? Why did good people have to die? Danny wasn’t one for complexities but if he could come to terms with his own crisis of faith, he’d reckon that the afterlife had nothing glorious beyond the gates.

No party. No fluffy clouds. No angel wings.

Life was a wish and he wished that heaven was simple. Heaven was painless. Heaven was like an endless happy dream. Heaven was love. God was love. Heaven was the place that cured people from a worse illness than cancer. Heaven was a place where you never felt lonely. Heaven was home.

He just wanted to know that everything was going to be okay. That he loved her, he would always love her, and that he was so grateful that she loved her with every fiber of her being. That she saw the universe in him and gave him such a positive outlook in life. She taught him love. She taught him how to live. She taught him faith.

His chest clenched and Danny heavily heaved in and out. This part was always the worst. Knocking and entering to see if she was still there. To see if she was still fighting, too afraid to leave them behind. Was he being selfish for bringing Marco with him? What if his boyfriend couldn’t handle it?

His mother had stage 4 lung cancer. She coughed a lot, with blood nowadays, her chest hurt, shortening her breaths, she barely ate, she lost so much weight, she was always tired, she grew dizzy and numb, and there were a couple times Cat had to rush her to the hospital after she had a seizure.

His mom was beautiful in his eyes. She always would be. That doesn’t change that her skin wasn’t as vibrant as he remembered. Her cancer was spreading to her liver… her skin was turning yellow… Cat told him it was called jaundice. He didn’t understand anything that was happening inside his mother’s frail body but he could see it. He could see the hurt. His mother was in so much pain.

Pain in her back and her hip, she got fevers, she got chills, piercing agony coursing through all her bones. She was hurting so fucking much…. seeing his mom wasn’t for the faint of heart. And he was scared. He was scared to show Marco an image of his mother that would stay ingrained in his mind forever. He wanted his boyfriend to remember the Silvia from highschool who went to every game. The woman who embraced him and kissed him tenderly all over his face. The woman that said time and time again: I’m so proud of you.

That’s the woman Danny wanted Marco to remember.

Not the one that only had days left.

“You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to…” Danny breathed. His feet were grounded on the floor, unable to move forward. He was scared.

Marco couldn’t even begin to understand what Danny must be going through, at least not in the literal sense. He could only understand that it was incredibly painful and difficult for his boyfriend. He knew that if anything were to ever happen to his own mother, he wouldn’t be able to handle it. There’s something uniquely special about the bond that mother and son share. Words never do it justice. So that’s how he knew he couldn’t, nor would he, leave Danny’s side, especially not when his boyfriend needed him more than ever.

Marco quickly shook his head, running his supportive hand along Danny’s back and that same hand came to hold Danny’s. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Subtly, Danny’s teeth trembled. Right. That decided it then. Gently, Danny knocked on the door with his knuckles before grabbing the doorknob and twisting it. When the door opened, the hospital bed was revealed. The one that replaced the master bed which was now in storage. Silvia was skin and bones, and pale, very pale, like a ghost. She was on oxygen and she stared at the ceiling, unable to make an expression. It looked like his dad had recently changed her piss pad so that was good. That part was always hard for him because he hated manhandling her as his sisters told him what to do, when to do it.

The tumor grew and spread quickly, consuming the organs that helped her live. For those who weren’t used to this sight, it was hard to swallow. Noticing the blood trailing from her lips, likely from her coughing, Danny left Marco’s side, grabbed a hand cloth and wiped her mouth like she was a baby. “Hey mom, good morning,” Danny calmly greeted and proceeded to compliment, “You look beautiful. Tiff did a wonderful job with your makeup. You’re wearing your favorite color… you look just like the ocean mom. Pretty blues. Pretty woman.”

There were small mumbles of acknowledgement from Silvia but nothing more and nothing less. “I, um, I brought someone… This person means the world to me and I wanted you to see him and know… I’m okay. I have someone to take care of me and me, him.”

First, Danny grabbed his mother’s hand. She tried to tighten her grip, tried to squeeze him, but barely had the strength to do so. He knew she was listening. He just knew, even if she couldn’t show it. With his other hand, he reached for his lover to grab, “Mom… you’ve met him before… but I wanted to introduce him as… ehem, well, my boyfriend. This is Marco. Marlena’s eldest boy. You know the one that helped you make gelato from scratch a few years back? Yeah, him. He is…” Danny paused trying to gather the right words. Instead he shook his head and looked at his boyfriend while talking to Silvia, “I love him, mama. I really love him.”

Marco couldn’t remember how long it had been since he saw Mrs. Belmonte. It had been a while. At least three years, give or take. Not since he was with Danny (albeit in secret) last. Back then, she was so full of life. Marco didn’t spend a lot of time, but the times she was, he remembered that much about her. Now, as he stood in her bedroom, watching Danny talk to her, she looked like a literal ghost, yet somewhere in there, as Marco tried to not let his surprise show too much, he could still see it: that life. Not so much in her face or the way her skin looked, but he could at least see part of it in her eyes.

That eased Marco and as soon as his boyfriend reached for his hand, Marco received it in full, squeezing Danny’s hand and smiled at him. His heart was beating in a different, fast pace than it normally did whenever Danny looked at him like that. He squeezed his boyfriend’s hand when he seemed to struggle for his words. “You have an amazing son, Mrs. Belmonte,” Marco said. His own mother wouldn’t forgive him nor could he bring himself to say her name. He was too respectful. “He makes me so happy. You know he has been helping me with my diet? We run every morning. I couldn’t do it without him.” Marco maintained eye contact with Danny, widening his smile some more as his eyes became much more watery than before. “I love him so much and I will continue to do so for as long as I am able to.”

His mother’s hand twitched in his hand and in silence, Danny looked at her face, noticing a tear trailing down her cheek. Subsequently, the Italian boy lifted his boyfriend’s hand and kissed it before gesturing with his eyes for Marco to kindly retrieve the bible off her dresser by the french door window. After releasing his lover’s hand, Danny leaned forward cautiously and gently adjusted her pillow. When he was close to her face, he whispered into her ear, “God’s got you.”

He wondered how long this would last. How long would his mom suffer? Seeing her like this broke his heart. Danny wanted her to see that he, his sisters, and his dad would be okay. They might be a little messy. Tragically disastrous some days. They were the Belmontes after all and everything they did was dramatic as hell, but they were going to be okay. She raised them right and gave them strong faith and an eternal love like no other. Not just the religious faith and the love from God.

No.

Silvia knew not all her children would continue the pursuit of Catholicism. She taught them to trust the process. She showed them a love that could not be matched by anyone else. A mother’s love. Faith was unseen but felt, it was strength when we felt like there was none, it was hope when all was lost. Her love had no law, no pity. It endures through all, even times like these where God’s presence seemed missing. Her love was completely pure and to him, she was his world. She was everything.

The past month Danny gained the courage to talk to her about all his ongoing issues like the pressure he felt with his father. He was reaching a point of acceptance. Deep down, he knew she didn’t have much longer but she was a fighter, fighting to stay with them. Just a little bit longer.

Kissing her forehead once more, Danny repeated, “God’s got you, mama.”

As Marco went over to the dresser, in his mind he knew he had to grab the bible, but he found himself being distracted by some of the things on the dresser. Little things like what looked like jewelry and pictures. He slightly smiled, seeing the bible at the center of everything. Seeing it, it was like any normal black bible, but then he noticed something about it that piqued his interest. There were all sorts of tags along the edge of the pages. It wasn’t just condensed on one part of it, either. As Marco held the good book with the spine down, he realized the tags were spread throughout the entirety. It reminded him of his great aunt Maeve, the one that lived in Ireland and whom Marco came to grow fond of when his family lived there for a time. She had one just like this with just as many tags. No surprise there considering just like his Great Aunt, Mrs. Belmonte was just as religious (or at least he assumed given the amount of tags).

Snapping out of that momentary flashback, Marco made his way back to the bedside, handing Danny the bible, making sure to treat it with care. “And here it is, babe!”

Grabbing the bible, Danny sat beside her on the edge of the bed and turned the pages, trying to find a reading. There were many he could choose but he didn’t want to choose something depressing. He wanted to comfort her soul. A knock on the door brought his gaze from the bible to the door, he replied loud enough for the other person to hear but quiet enough to not stir his mother, “I’m in here, but you can join me.”

The door creaked open to reveal Mirabella and her two guy best friends, Carter Jenkins and Asher Mitchell. Asher held a carbon fiber black cello while Carter held an acoustic white guitar. In Mira’s hand she held a cylinder sand shaker. She didn’t want her violin to take away from her vocals. Carter was actually a drummer for the marching band, but he could do slow songs on the guitar. Plus, you can use a guitar as a drum too. Asher was in the local orchestra. And all three of them were in the Lucky Charm A Capella troupe. They were juniors. “We can come back… I promised mom I’d sing her a song.”

“No, you guys can set up. There’s more room over there. By the closet.” Danny directed her best friends to the open space in the master bedroom. A little reading area for his mother when she saw better days. “I haven’t heard you sing since the vigil… I’d like to listen if you don’t mind, Millie,” The older sibling gave her reserved sister a soft smile before going back to the bible.

Marco had a short flashback to the vigil as soon as Danny mentioned it. He wasn’t able to attend it because, well, he had just been shot and was recovering from the emergency surgery on his ACL. But he watched it via Kylee’s Livestream. It was at the center of town. It was at night time but all of the candles spread throughout gave enough light to show the pictures of the victims and of those who were shot. Marco remembered Mirabella sang beautifully. She always had an angelic voice. “I’d like to listen too, if that’s okay!”

“Yeah, sure,” Mira looked between Marco and Danny, tilting her head at the sight. She wasn’t a brain surgeon but it seemed to her they were back together. Danny never told her. Not after that barbecue they disappeared that one time, not during junior year, and certainly not now, but she wasn’t dumb. She knew gay when she saw it. She was gay. Of course her brother was gay or bi, or whatever. He just gave off a vibe. “Matthew chapter 11, verses 28 to 30. That’s a good one,” The youngest Belmonte child advised before following her friends into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Nodding, Danny flipped through the bible until he found the spot, “Thanks, sis,” Shifting his body to face Silvia in the bed, Danny read with a firm tone, enunciating each pause, each word, and each break. His voice reverberated throughout the room of six people, including him. Once Asher sat on Silvia’s luxury tan accent sofa, with his cello between his knees and the upper bout against his upper chest, and Carter beside him with his guitar strapped on him, the two boys looked down in respect as Mira’s older brother did his reading.

“Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” Danny paused, hearing his voice choke up. This never got easier. No matter how many times he tried to be strong. Still, he needed to do this reading and not stutter. Not stumble. He needed to make his mother proud. Sunday school didn’t go to waste. He could understand the Lord’s word. Inhaling, exhaling, Danny glanced up from the bible to his mother’s face, and continued, “Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.”

Marco watched (and listened) proudly as Danny recited the verse with an equal clarity and emotion. He could see that his boyfriend struggled midway. He had no doubt that it must’ve been difficult for him and if it wasn’t for the fact that Mira and her friends were in the room, he would’ve comforted him but he just had to stand there and be the safety net that wouldn’t let him hit the ground.

“That was beautifully recited, Danny!” Marco stepped closer to his Italian boyfriend, giving him a loving glance.

“Thanks, yeah,” A little embarrassed, Danny stood up and closed the bible, “That was me… I’ll just, you can have the floor, Mils,” If it wasn’t for the two other boys, Danny would’ve kissed his mom again and told her he loved her. Instead, he walked to the dresser and placed her bible back, exactly how it was. He didn’t want to feel ashamed to be with Marco and to show him off, but he wasn’t ready to shout out to kids he didn’t know that this was the love of his life. Was that wrong? He should’ve gotten over this.

Quick to catch her brother coiling in his panic of showing emotional vulnerability, Mira with her monotone voice (think Aubrey Plaza), she shooed Danny’s boyfriend away from the hospital bed. Inches away from Marco, she smirked and muttered, “Give him time. He’s making a lot of strides. I imagine that’s thanks to you.”

Marco's smile widened by a small dose at Mira's words. Was it true? Did he really have anything to do with what Mira perceived as Danny making strides? He wasn't certain if he should be given sole credit for that one. He didn't bother asking how Mira knew. It wasn't the place, but it was obvious she did know. "Whether it was a lot or a little, all I've tried to do is be there for him," he admitted, looking from Mira to his boyfriend with a loving gaze. "He deserves any and all happiness in life and I just want to make sure he gets that and then some."

“You do too,” Mira said matter-of-factly. “Don’t lose yourself in him. You both need each other,” Half smiling at her brother’s lover, Mira went to her mother and delicately brushed Silvia’s hair to the side, “Just like I promised. Elisa’s wedding song, from the movie you really liked,” Her mom watched A Walk to Remember more times than Mira could count, which is why she knew Only Hope was the best song to perform for her.

Without a cue, Carter started strumming the guitar, gradually bringing in the cadence, which directed Asher to start with his cello. Sitting by her mother, Mirabella swayed to the string instruments, gracefully bobbing her head to the music. A love song, a good one at that, to make her mom think about their father. And God. Whatever she felt she needed more right now.

It felt right.

“There’s a song that’s inside of my soul,” She looked at her mother and then met her brother’s gaze, “It’s the one that I’ve tried to write over and over again.” She closed her eyes, letting the music take over the room, “I’m awake in the infinite cold, but You sing to me over and over again.”

The boys joined in on the chorus as they played their instruments, “So I lay my head back down, and I lift my hands, and pray to be only Yours. I pray to be only Yours. I know now You’re my only hope.”

Shaking the sand cylinder, Mira looked at Asher, who calmly took over the next verse, “Sing to me all the songs of the stars, of Your galaxy dancing and laughing, and laughing again. When it feels like my dreams are so far, sing to me of the plans that You have for me over again.”

The chorus came and went and it was Carter’s turn with the bridge, “I give You my apathy. I’m giving You all of me. I want Your symphony. Singing in all that I am at the top of my lungs I’m giving it back.”

And for the last chorus, Danny joined in, “And I lay my head back down and I lift my hands and pray to be only Yours. I pray to be only Yours. I pray to be only Yours. I know now You’re my only hope.” All but Danny sang as if they were in an empty room. They were pros at performing. Their souls became tangible through their song, while Danny did it more as a form of healing. He wasn’t virtuous like Mirabella but he wasn’t all that bad of a singer either. He had a good voice; needed a bit of tuning but the potential was there. He sang at this moment for catharsis and also to make his mother happy. She loved it when she joined in at church.

Singing gave words to the emotions they couldn’t express. He knew exactly why Mira loved it so much. She could communicate how she felt through her voice and today, he would share this with her. They both hurt. They both were watching their mother die. They both needed support. Neither pain mattered more. If anything, this song showed even within all the chaos, the Belmonte family had a strong love.

Thanks to Silvia.

They were strong.

Edenridge

_{TIME STAMP: A couple hours after "Make Your Own Luck"}
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When Mika returned to his Lost Souls Apartment from his time spent at the Edenridge High School gymnasium, he didn’t even bother changing out of his doubtless sweaty and dirty clothes. He found a spot on his shitty couch. He tossed his phone onto the coffee table, ignoring the fact that he left his tv on and the 7 O’Clock news was on. He muted it, deciding that he didn’t have the energy to spare to pay attention to whatever they were talking about. Instead, he just laid there, stomach first, arm under a pillow he forgot he left on the couch, and started to feel himself drift off.

And for a while, it was actually working. His eyelids were heavy, but he kept hearing something. As he faded in and out for about fifteen minutes, Mika finally opened one of his eyes up. He heard his phone go off. He groaned, rolling his eyes. “Can’t a guy just get some sleep?” He complained, feeling every bit of the temperamental guy he could be on one of three occasions: when he’s about to punch someone out that deserved it, when he’s so hungry he’ll fight anyone that looks at him the wrong way, and when he’s just trying to fucking sleep.

He forgot to look at the caller ID and answered. “Whoever the fuck this is, hang up now--”

“Mikhail…I wasn’t certain you would answer.”

He didn’t register the voice until a few seconds after that chilling tone rested in his mind. His eyes widened to the point that he had a surge of new-found energy that propelled him upright. He groaned again, of course as his stiff joints cracked, but he was alert and focused. He just wished he wasn’t alert and focused on him.

“Ivan. Why are you calling?”

“So it’s Ivan now. No longer ‘old bastard’ or ‘sperm donor’? I suppose I should call that an improvement, And apologies if it’s too early--”

“Don’t try and get me sidetracked, Ivan!” Mika roared. He was not only audibly angry, but visibly agitated. “Why the fuck are you calling me at any time? Didn’t Big Rey tell you? I want nothing to do with you anymore! And mom doesn’t either!”

“I..I’m aware. I’m sorry, son. I hope Mary is holding up well. Last I heard, she’s being well taken care of. Reynoldo informed me that she is taking up residence in the Lost Souls apartment complex. Third floor if I remember properly.”

Of course, he would know. Mika cursed under gritted teeth but tried to keep the cold storm of his rage under wraps for the time being. “That’s right. She’s in hiding. She can’t be with her family because of the dangers you put on us.”

There was silence until Ivan’s coughing was heard. “But she is doing well? Have you seen her recently? What about your sisters, son?”

Mika rolled his eyes, realizing he was just too damn fucking exhausting to keep this up. “Yeah, mother is good. She is making the most of it. And you’ll be happy to know that Uncle Gustav is doing what you couldn’t--” Or wouldn’t. He let out a sigh. “But why are you really calling, Ivan? You only give me three calls every year. It’s not my birthday and it’s not Christmas or Thanksgiving. So what is it?”

“I..” Ivan seemed to hesitate, clearing his throat (Mika had to assume). “I..just wanted to check in. It’s…I hope you’re well, Mikhail. I hope you aren’t letting life slip through your fingers. My mistakes…they aren’t yours to shoulder. I know you’re still quite angry at me, but don’t forget to love and live.”

Only half of what Ivan said really clicked. Mika heard his father’s words, but he also didn’t. He didn’t care to listen -- to really listen -- to what that monster had to say. “Yeah, I’ll do that just after I go take a fucking dump.” Mika stood up, realizing his joints were stiffer than he they felt like. “Talk to you in five months, Ivan.. Or not. Whatever you feel is most convenient.”

Mika hung up before Ivan could get another word in. And when he did, he tossed his phone on his couch and grunted in the annoyed way that seemed to be the default setting whenever Mika was forced to entertain calls from his good-for-nothing father. Ivan always had to do it, didn’t he? Make things worse for both of them. It was bad enough that Mika had to suffer through those calls when he knew they were coming, but to receive one from him without warning. What was he even thinking? Why did he even want to call him? Mika didn’t understand and maybe he never would. After everything that asshole did to him, Mika couldn’t care less what Ivan wanted.

“Don’t forget to love and live?” He repeated those last words as he sat on the toilet of his bathroom. He spent a good ten minutes thinking and pushing a big one out.

Shaking his head and wiping, Mika flushed and made his way to his kitchen, grabbing a can Rockstar Roasted, the coffee energy drink. He bought a few cans of them last night and thankfully his asshole brother didn’t come by unannounced and help himself to them. Now that he was thinking about it, Mika hasn’t seen nor heard from Cameron in quite some time. Not that he was complaining. His mental health and general mood haven’t been any better in the time that’s gone between their last unfortunate encounter.

Mika groaned and drank about half of the can, trying to push the thought of the Devil out of his mind like he did on his toilet when he was thinking about his father. He had to focus on things that actually mattered. Eventful morning with the Coach aside, Mika had to figure out what he was going to do today. Was he going to just have a lazy day in his apartment or maybe go see his mother before he went and hung out at Edge? That didn’t sound like a bad idea, in all honesty.

Actually yeah, that’s what he was going to do.

In a matter of just thirty minutes, Mika took a quick shower. Feeling refreshed, he changed into a simple outfit consisting of one of his hoodies (today’s was white), a dark-colored shirt (black), and navy blue jeans that were so dark that they could be confused with black. When Mika decided that he would do something, he always followed through and today he would spent a few minutes with his darling mother, the light of his life, and the ever-reliable moral compass that set things right for him whenever he was feeling lost and then he would spend at least a few hours at Edge. Some of the serpents were bound to be hanging around this time of day and Mika didn’t have any other plans for the day, so why not, right?

As he started to head out, Mika grabbed his keys, another can of the good stuff for the road, and a donut he bought yesterday. Next day donuts were better, anyway. Just as he was about to head out. Literally had his hand on the knob, Mika stepped on something that had went overlooked. A single envelope was on the floor. He bent down to pick it up and examined the exterior of the white envelope. It was addressed to him but had no return address. Part of him wanted to ignore it. Actually, he was going to, but for some reason he couldn’t really explain, he stopped himself in his tracks. He took a seat at his crappy ass table, set his donut and can of rockstar caffeine on the table and opened the envelope.

There was a letter.

And his stomach sank.

“Shit, is this another one?” Mika cursed a few more times.

He remembered telling Hyde how he didn’t care much about the letters. The last batch were about Allison Davies. He didn’t have anyone exceptionally close to him that centered around her, but Charlie, even if Mika wasn’t close to the late Charlie Decker, he was close with Boa and Poppy. And they were as close to someone as you could get without marrying them. So his mind went to them first. If it was another Charlie letter, then what would it be centered around this time? Who among his close friends would be a target this time?

Mika unfolded the letter and started to read. Just in the first paragraph alone, something felt different. The language from the letters past wasn’t present. In the letters from before, there was a certain way the words were phrased. Almost in a poetic sense. In this one, while it still felt loving in some way, it was different, yet as he read it, it felt…familiar.

“O’Hara 23..” Mika echoed the part of the letter he read. O’Hara 23 - that was David’s number, right?

As he went down the letter, reading it once to take it in (regardless how much it hurt to do so), he read it a few more times. Mika analyzed the language used. He allowed himself to become immersed in this letter -- no, the singular part of a love story that felt not like a stranger reading something for the first time but memories of the past (fond ones at that) trying to come back but nothing was clicking yet.

From the unique perspective this letter had, Mika could surmise that this was definitely someone who was, at a time, romantically linked to his late cousin. The language, the personal way this person’s words were phrased -- that much he knew was obvious. It was obvious and yet why did Mika feel like he knew this way of speaking? This way of conveying emotions and the thoughts that went through the mind?

God it was too early for this, but it was killing him. God, it was killing Mika so much.

Wait.

Close family ties? Family…

“Living outside of family’s shadows…”

And there it was. Like a neon sign shielding by the back of a big rig, it was right there in front of him and it smelled of sweet aromas on a day that Mika couldn’t believe he didn’t think of first. “It all comes back to that one day” was the last thing Mika said before plans changed. He was out the door of his apartment at Lost Souls and was driving into the Northside. There was only one place he knew he had to be right now.

Rangers

LOCATION — Food Truck Station, Angel Grove
INTERACTIONS — Dre and Ji _{@LG @Hey Im Jordan}

---

Jackson still had a bunch of unanswered questions. He wasn't typically this curious. Anyone who knew him, especially Dre and Ji-Su who he felt like he had grown close to in the short time he's been hanging with them before now, could vouch that Jackson really wasn't the inquisitive type. He wouldn't even be able to tell you what inquisitive meant or how to use it in a sentence, but even he had the thing where he needed to know some of the basics such as the gem thing that went inside him (sounds worse than it actually is) and the new Smart Watch competitor that was now on his wrist. But above all else, he's just really sad because he was really looking forward to that triple threat.

Yeah, something something 'think of your priorities', but when Jackson was hungry and even willing to pay for his friends' food (he would do regardless if they asked him to or not because Jackson did not let his buds go hungry), but the fact he was going to pay made it all the more heartbreaking because he didn't get the chance to because of those...things. He didn't know what to call them. Freaks seemed to be accurate enough. They certainly fit the bill for freaky things.

_{“And maybe get another quesadilla, yeah?”}

As Ji-Su leaned toward him, there was an odd change in Jackson's demeanor. Curiosity was long gone and, though he still didn't quite understand the reason why that gem seemed to choose him, of all people, he understood in the immediate future (as in the next ten minutes), Jackson could use the promise that his fellow foodoholic friend made about that triple threat quesadilla as his internal motivation to kick a little ass, take some names, and, of course, protect those who were probably shitting their pants like Jackson would if he didn't feel like he was at the start of his own superhero origin story.

"Oh yeah! I'm all...uh--" He was going to say fired up, but not only would that be a copyright issue, but could he say fired up? The thing giving him this power was...well, it wasn't fire. It was a rock-like object. And it dissolved inside him or something like that. So, saying he was fired up wasn't accurate. But it was a cool phrase.. "I'm all jacked up!" Oh yeah, that's much better!

At the same time that he heard that hot chick from before telling them to focus, Jackson watched as Dre completely demolished one of those freaks by giving it a taste of its own medicine. Its weapon was shoved right into its chest and it faded away. "Hot damn man! That was sick!" Jackson cheered, jumping and fist-pumping into the air out of both support for his friend and classmate, but also out of his own pure excitement that was obviously deeply rooted in the fact that he was still a kid at heart who got too excited by watching badass moments like that happen in front of his eyes.

Yeah talk about badass.

As Jackson remained in state of awe of Andre, time stopped for no man, even those admiring the badassery that was just displayed. Those freaks seemed to surround them. "Apparently they couldn't appreciate pure, adulterated epicness." Jackson sighed, looking as they encircled him, Dre, and Ji. The two boys were back to back and Jackson immediately looked around, surveying for the blonde and other asian girl with the softer demeanor than Ji-Su. But again time waited for nobody because as one of the freaks came charging from behind him (to Dre's front) and like a mother-fucking boss, judo threw it towards Jackson. Even though there was very little time for Jackson to react, he felt like that wasn't the case. The thrown freak was coming at him in slow motion.

Wait, slow motion? What was really happening?

Jackson twisted his body, dipping back onto his hands, tucking his legs into his chest and as the thrown freak was directly over him, he thrust both of his legs into the chest of it, sending it flying up into the air, crashing into the food truck.

"Whoa.." Jackson had to take a moment. He didn't expect to be able to do that. He...didn't think he could pull it off. "Holy fucking shit! Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit! That was incredible! Like.." Jackson had to get a handle on what he just did. It was cool and all, but he had to focus. Hot chick would be mad if he didn't. Looking at Dre, he still had a grin on his face. "Dude, yes it's like I can see things in slower motion than I should. Also, I have this...strength. Like I'm not a fighter. Never trained in any martial arts, but I feel like I can actually fight."

Jackson glanced over to Ji-Su. "What about you, Ji? Do you feel any different?"

The Spirits Within/Aeon

Apologies for the silence and lack of a post from me. Had a brief period (about a week) where I was down and out in any sort of creative sense, but I'm starting to bounce back. So I'm going to try and get up a post sometime in the next couple of days!

Sum up your week in roleplaying in just 3 words

Procrastination, procrastination, and more procrastination

What shows/movies are you watching?

Been rewatching/finally finishing Fairy Tail for the most part. Also watching Ms Marvel and eagerly await episode 2's release on Wednesday. I want to start on Stranger Things Season 4 soon.

The Spirits Within/Aeon

@Prisk It's fitting for some prompts. It adds a nice pop of pink/purple.

Also that last Garuda one is fucking insane! Looks like a big bad from a FF game.

The Spirits Within/Aeon

Decided to try my hand at a few

anarchy in ruin - death style

Blitz Phoenix - Dark Fantasy style

Blitz Phoenix - Psychic Style

This is pretty rad.

Going Viral: A Digimon RP

@Blazion Not trying to double post, but realized we haven't addressed your questions. And while I know your second question is one @LG can answer, for the first one, I think there's a lot of leeway in terms of digivolution lines. I can speak confidently that as long as it makes sense in some natural progression, it won't be a big deal.

Digivolutions are such an abstract concept sometimes. Like you'll have a champ form not look like anything resembling the rookie (Patamon to Angemon anyone?). So if you have another dinomon in mind other than Greymon, I'm sure that'll be okay. Hell, my own line that I'm doing for Veemon won't be following the canon-specific line as seen in Digimon Adventure 02 mainly because we never got an official straight shot exveemon line without DNA Digivolution >.>

But I digress! Make it make sense and I'm sure all is dandy!