AlteredTundra

Digimon: Materialization

Mizuki when everyone shows up around the same time:

But make it about the wind

Digimon: Materialization

And bam there's my first post! Sorrry it took a bit!

Digimon: Materialization

Mizumoto Park, Katsushika Ward

18:06

Despite it being June and the temperature - even at this time of day - was usually scorching, Mizuki found the sudden breeze refreshing. There was always something about the wind and feeling it touch her skin and how it kissed her purple and blue-dyed hair. It typically didn't hit it as much when she was on the ground, but she was perched up one story on a sturdy branch in one of the trees. She found herself the most at peace when she would climb trees. Her uncle would frequently chastize her for such reckless behavior, just as he probably would later on because she missed her Kendo lesson to just be one with the wind.

She's always been a bit impulsive and adamant to follow her own path. She loved kendo and found it was a source of finding her own inner-peace, but there was always something about it that felt too rigid for her liking. Too restricting. It's why she loved video games and especially those kinds that allowed her to roam around. She's always stayed within Tokyo, but she also tended to go a bit outside despite it being just a tad dangerous.

Again, she's a reckless girl. But she's also one that follows her own path.

Having spent the last half hour just in the tree, she had a great view of the part and all of those who came and went. Including the two boys who were sitting on the bench and one that was eying one of them before the other joined.

She took a gander at her Digimon: Emergance app for a few moments, seeing if anything needed to be done. Her farm was very specific. If it wasn't avian or reptile, she didn't want it. But also a lot of combat specific mons were among her collection. But of those, she valued two very specific ones: Shijima, her Kotemon. A quiet digimon but one she loved dearly and Kenja, her black and purple Falcomon. She named him after her uncle. She collected an item from both, which were mainly random ones that weren't very useful but she hoarded them anyway. Never know when you'll need em!

Satisfied, she pocketed her phone in her front pocket and jumped down, executing a rather flashy landing on both of her feet. The impact made her bend her knees and she felt it somewhat, but she had done that kind of jump so many times that she was used to it. She might regret it later in life, but for the time being, she had to enjoy her youth. What else was a thriving young girl like herself to do?

She casually made her way over to the two sititng at the bench and immediately waved with a two-finger salute. "Yo!" Unlike what she observed, Mizuki was very extroverted. She went where the wind took her and right now, it was striking up a conversation with the two on the bench. "It seems the wind blessed us all today, to have been in the same section of the park."

Mahz's Dev Journal

@Mahz I ran into something of an issue. On my profile, the page is spread out at certain parts, but specifically profile picture, recent visitors, and my kudos part of my profile. Everything else is aligned normally. Not sure what might've caused the issue, though, or is this intentional for a future upgrade of some kind?

Mahz's Dev Journal

Alright, homepage status sidebar should now collapse correctly when loading the homepage.

@GN FOREVER Yeah, it's just because the system doesn't let you reuse old names yet, though ideally it should. I have to do it manually. I can do that for you soon.

@Mahz

As a follow up to this, would it allow us to use old names if it it wasn't the literal last change we had but the one before that? For example, if I changed my username to something not "Altered Tundra", but then after 3 months, would it let me use "Altered Tundra" again?

Digimon: Materialization

Tamer

Name:

Saito, Mizuki

Age:

16

Appearance:

Mizuki has a slightly above-average build for a girl her age. She is frequently active, exercises, maintains a somewhat solid diet, and practices kendo quite frequently as her main source of exercise. She has a rather artistic and edgy sense of style, which is why her hair is shaved on one side, combed and brushed to the side exposing that shaved side, and it is dyed a bright purple that blends into a darker shade of purple. Her style matches that bold style, too, as she does dress for herself and only herself. Bright colors. Shirts of all kinds, but with abstract art designs, jeans and shorts. She is averaged height, with her standing only at 5'5, so she doesn't have to shop at plus sized stores. She wears heart earrings all the time and a myriad of bracelets. She loves to be fashionable.

Digivice variant: Digivice VB - bright purple with dark blue accents
Digimon partner(s): Kotemon (female ), Falcomon (male)
Personality:

Mizuki marches to her own beat, flowing in her own direction. Much like the wind, wherever life takes her, she goes. This might be contradictory to practicing Kendo, which is all about balance, but her idea of balance is different than what most of her sibling students see it as. It's different than what her uncle and sensei teach. Balance is about centering yourself, but to her balance is embracing change and adjusting to it. To her, balance is finding peace with the uncertainty of life. To her, balance is living life because who knows how long anyone has left on earth? May as well grab it by the breeze and flow in the air.

This, as one can imagine, leads her down many colorful paths. Embracing her individuality has also made her some equally as colorful friends. She smiles bright, professes the need to relax and chill over being rigid like her Uncle Ryu is.

Backstory:

Mizuki being from Shinjuku might be the best example of how her life turned out. She grew up in the slums. In a part where it was do or die. She never knew her parents. She didn't even find out that they had left her when she was born until she was ten after her Uncle Ryu told her the story. He left out some parts about them being no older than she is now when she was born, so maybe it wasn't selfishness of not wanting her (like she was led to believe), but wanting her to have a better life.

Her uncle was ten years older than her mother, his sister, was, so he took over raising her. When he did, she moved to Kyoto into a rather modest home that had its own Dojo, where he taught Kendo out of. Naturally, she would enter as one of his students and that began a six-year journey. In this time, she kept up her lessons, but always struggled with some of the more philosophical teachings her uncle gave. She disagreed with what he thought was right and that often put them at odds, which led to a dry spell - a hiatus of sorts - where she didn't show up to her lessons and fell down the rabbit hole of video games. From ages 13 to current, she fell down it and often got herself lost. She'd indulge in all kinds: MMOs, strategy games, fighting games, RPGs, and even the occasional Candy Crush copycats. It wasn't until one day, she found out about Digimon. She became intrigued by it, and started to play the classics but went deeper into this new hobby.

She didn't know what it was about Digimon that allured her to it. Maybe it was the monsters. Maybe it was the different world. Maybe it was the fact that she could pour her money into it without feeling like it was a waste. She enjoyed the time spent on it, collected some of the training cards, got the latest merch and it sort of became part of her identity. It was freeing to be able to dive into this new obsession. For some reason, regardless what she got, she always was attracted to the avians. The bird types. The ones that flew with the wind. Maybe that was all the beginning of what was on its way and she had no idea.

Digimon Partner

Nickname:

Shijima (The Quiet One) - Given to him for his rather lax approach to speaking.

Species:

Kotemon

Level:

Rookie

Type:

Reptile

Attribute:

Data, Vaccine and Free (when enters champion stage)

Field:

Dragon's Roar and Nature's Spirit

Attacks:

Fire Men, Thunder Kote, Meteor Slash, Lightning Slash

Evolutionary line:

Choromon → Caprimon → Kotemon → Yaskamon → ??? → ???

Digimon Partner

Nickname:

Kenja (wise man) - Given to Falcomon by Mizuki for his wisdom and often being a manifestation of her Uncle Ryu.

Shijima (The Quiet One) - Given to her for his rather lax approach to speaking.

Species:

Falcomon

Level:

Rookie

Type:

Bird

Attribute:

Vaccine

Field:

Wind Guardian

Attacks:

Ninja Blade, Firecracker Smokescreen, Wind Blade, Digital Screen, Beak Attack

Evolutionary line:

Puwamon → Pinamon → Falcomon → Peckmon → ??? → ???

Digimon: Materialization

Tamer

Name:

Saito, Mizuki

Age:

16

Appearance:

Mizuki has a slightly above-average build for a girl her age. She is frequently active, exercises, maintains a somewhat solid diet, and practices kendo quite frequently as her main source of exercise. She has a rather artistic and edgy sense of style, which is why her hair is shaved on one side, combed and brushed to the side exposing that shaved side, and it is dyed a bright purple that blends into a darker shade of purple. Her style matches that bold style, too, as she does dress for herself and only herself. Bright colors. Shirts of all kinds, but with abstract art designs, jeans and shorts. She is averaged height, with her standing only at 5'5, so she doesn't have to shop at plus sized stores. She wears heart earrings all the time and a myriad of bracelets. She loves to be fashionable.

Digivice variant: Digivice VB - bright purple with dark blue accents
Digimon partner(s): Kotemon (female ), Falcomon (male)
Personality:

Mizuki marches to her own beat, flowing in her own direction. Much like the wind, wherever life takes her, she goes. This might be contradictory to practicing Kendo, which is all about balance, but her idea of balance is different than what most of her sibling students see it as. It's different than what her uncle and sensei teach. Balance is about centering yourself, but to her balance is embracing change and adjusting to it. To her, balance is finding peace with the uncertainty of life. To her, balance is living life because who knows how long anyone has left on earth? May as well grab it by the breeze and flow in the air.

This, as one can imagine, leads her down many colorful paths. Embracing her individuality has also made her some equally as colorful friends. She smiles bright, professes the need to relax and chill over being rigid like her Uncle Ryu is.

Backstory:

Mizuki being from Shinjuku might be the best example of how her life turned out. She grew up in the slums. In a part where it was do or die. She never knew her parents. She didn't even find out that they had left her when she was born until she was ten after her Uncle Ryu told her the story. He left out some parts about them being no older than she is now when she was born, so maybe it wasn't selfishness of not wanting her (like she was led to believe), but wanting her to have a better life.

Her uncle was ten years older than her mother, his sister, was, so he took over raising her. When he did, she moved to Kyoto into a rather modest home that had its own Dojo, where he taught Kendo out of. Naturally, she would enter as one of his students and that began a six-year journey. In this time, she kept up her lessons, but always struggled with some of the more philosophical teachings her uncle gave. She disagreed with what he thought was right and that often put them at odds, which led to a dry spell - a hiatus of sorts - where she didn't show up to her lessons and fell down the rabbit hole of video games. From ages 13 to current, she fell down it and often got herself lost. She'd indulge in all kinds: MMOs, strategy games, fighting games, RPGs, and even the occasional Candy Crush copycats. It wasn't until one day, she found out about Digimon. She became intrigued by it, and started to play the classics but went deeper into this new hobby.

She didn't know what it was about Digimon that allured her to it. Maybe it was the monsters. Maybe it was the different world. Maybe it was the fact that she could pour her money into it without feeling like it was a waste. She enjoyed the time spent on it, collected some of the training cards, got the latest merch and it sort of became part of her identity. It was freeing to be able to dive into this new obsession. For some reason, regardless what she got, she always was attracted to the avians. The bird types. The ones that flew with the wind. Maybe that was all the beginning of what was on its way and she had no idea.

Digimon Partner

Nickname:

Shijima (The Quiet One) - Given to him for his rather lax approach to speaking.

Species:

Kotemon

Level:

Rookie

Type:

Reptile

Attribute:

Data, Vaccine and Free (when enters champion stage)

Field:

Dragon's Roar and Nature's Spirit

Attacks:

Fire Men, Thunder Kote, Meteor Slash, Lightning Slash

Evolutionary line:

Choromon → Caprimon → Kotemon → Yaskamon → ??? → ???

Digimon Partner

Nickname:

Kenja (wise man) - Given to Falcomon by Mizuki for his wisdom and often being a manifestation of her Uncle Ryu.

Shijima (The Quiet One) - Given to her for his rather lax approach to speaking.

Species:

Falcomon

Level:

Rookie

Type:

Bird

Attribute:

Vaccine

Field:

Wind Guardian

Attacks:

Ninja Blade, Firecracker Smokescreen, Wind Blade, Digital Screen, Beak Attack

Evolutionary line:

Puwamon → Pinamon → Falcomon → Peckmon → ??? → ???

Collabs/Jumps/Forum Headings/Color Text

The older I get the more I come to realize that being able to get the most out of a story with those I'm writing with in solo posts is next to near impossible to do at the same pace as I did 5-10 years ago. It might be too obvious, but I just don't have the time nor energy to do solo post after solo post. Collabs are not only necessary, but for me preferable at my age. I find it allows for the organic flow of a scene rather making shortcuts because solo posts are taking so long. But for younger writers, I suppose it's all about personal preference. Some might prefer to do it old school and some like collabs. No right or wrong answer.

Yeah time skips are a thing. How else would you advance the story from a scene? Also depends on the kind of story. Is your way of storytelling to get the most out of a scene before advancing? Or are you more plot-centric where a handful of characters get screentime and then skip to others? Do you prefer the linear way of GMing and giving each person a role to fill out and plan the overarching plot of the story accordingly? It really can go either way, but yes timeskips are not just a thing but a requirement for me.

Timestamps and whatnot are nice for those who get lost in the reading and aren't made clear as to where or when things are happening in posts. Novels do it too -- well some of them do. I do agree that if you actually read the post, you'll know where and when a post is happening, but I also believe having that reminder at the top of the post is a good thing to have for the sake of clarity and courtesy for your fellow writer.

You mean as in using colors for character dialogue? Doesn't hurt or help if it's not present. It can add a nice additional level of depth to posts. Personally I couldn't go without it in posts, but I know others don't care for it and the rest simply don't care one way or the other. It's purely cosmetic and, like collabs, a preference thing.

Edenridge

_{TIMESTAMP: An Angel & Her Monster
FT: Jade Taylor & The Death Twins
Small FT: Dominic Wells, Lorelei Mercer & some Fallen Angels
tw. memories of child neglect, abuse against women, emotional abuse, violence}

____________________________________________________________________



____________________________________________________________________

1, 2, 3, 4….

4, 3, 2, 1….

1, 2, 3, 4….

4, 3, 2, 1….

With his fingers clenched tightly around the steering wheel of the cab, Cameron stared up at the light coming from the fourth floor, third window on the left. She had been gone for two days. She had been gone for days and she didn’t tell him. Charlie had asked him to take care of Jade, to look out for her, to be the monster that scared away the other monsters that emerged from the weeds of the garden. Yet the blonde was doing everything in her power not to allow him to do so.

Hyde had done what he could to keep himself distracted from the growing boil that was heating up his venomous blood. He had spent much of the last few days with JJ, perfecting the mask of a perfect boyfriend, wining and dining her in very public ways so as to gain the attention he needed for his plan to work. In his downtime he had travelled west to see Cadence, a safe harbour in the storm of his mind. She was not part of the plan, she was an escape, a controllable outcome in his manic masterminded mission. He would see her again soon but first there was work to be done.

Cameron climbed out of the cab and made his way into the Lost Soul’s complex. No one stopped him, no one would dare try lest face the wrath of the beast incarnate. All through the ascension of the elevator, he could feel the burning rage fill up his body like a comforter, darkness, his old friend. As the feedback whining in his ear grew louder, a sure sign that his mask of sanity would soon slip, Hyde took his breaths, he counted on his fingertips and he tightened his bulging muscles in an act of restraint. Walking down towards the door, he could hear the sizzling of the pans and every fibre of his being was screaming to kick the door into splinters.Reaching forward, Hyde pushed his way into the apartment, welcomed inside by the visage of Jade in next to nothing, slaving away over some pans.

“Hello there.”

Jade never thought she might be the type to believe in the bliss that love could bring to a person. She sure as hell never saw herself ever believing in it because of her parents. Cameron Muller and Whitney. Those two shattered the concept of love for her before Jade got to experience it. Still to this day, she refused to talk to them. Refused to acknowledge their presence even after all the letters they sent her, all the times they tried to call her. But the woman sleeping in her bed, or laying down - really, Jade couldn't’ tell cause no sound was coming from her bedroom (unlike the last hour).

And that’s why Jade was in her poor excuse of a kitchen, mixing away some pancake batter. It wasn’t anything special, but Jade could make a decent stack when she didn’t go lazy and just go to Dolly’s for her breakfast kick. The butter was sizzling on a non-stick pan that had been rusted to the point of it kinda sticking and Jade felt…something. She didn’t believe in much of that voodoo crap, but there was just a delayed reaction as her apartment door opened. As calmly and just so fucking eerily, she heard two words that made the Angel Princess freeze where she stood. It was calm. Deep but not surprisingly so. His voice was so weirdly, uncomfortably soothing. Jade couldn’t turn her head around. Something forbade her. The menacing aura of the Devil? Maybe, but it was something else. Something that she felt just moments ago before her apartment door first opened. In the back of her mind, she was cursing herself for not locking it…as if it would make a difference.

She slid her eyes into a side glance his way. From where she stood, she caught the sight of those same cold eyes. Those blue eyes that stared her down as he grabbed her throat. The eyes that she could see thunderstorms brew for a moment. Her entire body was trembling and swallowing a dry breath made it even worse. She couldn’t look him in the eyes, but she had to say something. Acknowledge he was here or she feared what she felt was only the tip of it all.

“Hey..hey…” was all she could muster. It took her everything to say that and even that single word was in a stutter, one laced with an outpouring amount of dread.

“Did you have a nice time?” Hyde asked pleasantly before taking a comfortable step forward into the shit hole of an apartment. “Your little adventure to the land of Chief Sitting Bull or whatever the fuck?” It didn’t take much for him to figure out where Jade had disappeared to. He had always had his ways, his little birds to tell him the whispers of the world. It didn’t take too many strides for Hyde to encroach into and smother Jade’s space with his presence. “Pancakes huh?” He placed his hand over the blonde’s as she gripped onto the handle of the pan, taking full control. “Smells good. Tasty.” He tightened his grip over her hand, behind his cold eyes a tempest loomed. “I’m not very happy with you.”

The frozen blonde just nodded at every question and comment that came from the Devil’s mouth. Venom. Fire. It pierced her and at a certain point, Jade was rendered powerless. It was just like that moment yesterday morning. When he was looking at her, snapping the fear of Cameron Hyde into her and removing every ounce of strength Jade had then. Everything that she achieved at Blue Hill: the understanding of her mental and emotional state after talking to Natalia, her insightful talk with Key, and then everything that happened with Anya…

Jade felt it slipping out of her grasp and she was slipping back to how she felt the night of going to the Carlisle house. Everything she felt then just intensified an unlimited amount of times when she felt the coldness of Hyde’s touch over her hand and that same icy chill hovered over her when she glanced into his eyes. Just for a moment.

One moment. Two moments…

As she did and as he started to take over the pan, Jade took a single step back. Her chest was alive with fear, the dread gone but it wasn’t forgotten. Every rapid beat her heart made, the only time it did this was when she and Anya were so close to each other. It took her breath away then and Hyde did the same thing. But all she felt was how close she was to a wildfire, feeling the heat of the hellfire actually touch her, robbing her of any air.

She couldn’t breathe. Jade couldn’t breathe. Was she really suffocating with him so close to her? Or was it just the trepidation of what she suspected was close. “I’m..sorry..” She hoarsely said. Her voice was more than just a rasp. It was damn near inaudible. She forced herself to cough. “I’m sorry…” She managed to say that coherently, but it didn’t help her. Cameron Hyde’s eyes held her in a vice grip while she was chained up by his presence, and his touch like there was a fire poker that had been sitting in an open flame burning her from the inside and melting every ounce of strength she desperately clung to. That strength was the only thing keeping her from falling to her knees.

Cameron tried to exhale out through his nose, to breath out the smoke coming from the cackling embers inside of him, burning open the seal that held his anger behind a locked door. “You’re sorry.” His free hand found its way to the back of Jade’s neck. “You’re sorry.” the demon repeated as he held the angel princess secure within his grasp, she wasn’t going anywhere unless he allowed it. “That’s ok. This is just the first bump, we’ll get through it.” Hyde leaned in and kissed the side of her head gently, bed hair soft but matted, she had the stench of sex on her. This didn’t surprise him, she was a slut.

Then he saw them.

Those big blue eyes masked, caked in panda makeup. She caught his gaze and immediately retreated into herself but that moment was long enough. In her eyes, Hyde saw a shattered mirror, a telescope to the past and where Jade once stood he saw only his mother. They were the same, beautiful messes of human beings, if they could even be described as such, giving up their bed, poisoning their veins with the dirt that the Gonzalez’ and others of their kind peddled. Cameron was not their kind, he was something better, something stronger. He would burn that kind to the ground and use their ashes to fertilise his world. Jade was their kind and he knew he could only protect her for so long, long enough for Charlie to see her again, long enough so that they could say goodbye.

“I think they’re ready.” Hyde smiled as he began to guide Jade’s hand, lifting the pan of pancakes off of the hob. With one fluid motion and an ungodly, visceral roar from his stomach, the devil forced the suicide blonde to lauch the pan across the room where it collided with an almighty clatter against a wall. He kicked her feet from beneath her and took full control of her fist, forcing her head low, down towards the still burning hob where he paused and held her aloft above the flames. “How am I supposed to protect you if you won’t let me, Willow? Huh? Cross me again and I’ll melt that pretty face off.” He yanked her hair back and threw her down onto the floor in a heap.

Protect me. He’s here to protect me…

She was helpless. Powerless. Completely broken. She was broken beyond repair. I am broken…

Everything around Willow felt like it was closing in on her. Flashes of her childhood came to her in rapid succession, like a broken record that couldn’t stop playing it over and over again.

She was just seven years old. A child who should have been watching Powerpuff Girls and falling in love with Buttercup. Or developing her gay awakening because of Sedusa, but instead, she was left to fend for herself. At seven years old, where her parents should have been making sure she was fed and healthy and allowing her to have a childhood, Jade had to learn how to feed herself. She had to learn how to make the bare minimum and do everything a mother or a father should be present to help their only daughter through. But Cameron Muller and Whitney Taylor were never around. Never to show her what good role models should be to a little girl. They were getting high or scoring the drugs to get high. Selling everything they could to make a quick buck. All the while, Willow was sitting in their apartment, watching some old show on an even older television.

“You’re strong, Willow. You can take care of yourself,” her father would always say to her before leaving with her mother, disappearing for two days at a time.

And when they returned, they rarely paid any attention to her. Willow always greeted them with the widest smile, always holding out hope that maybe - just maybe - they would want to see her. Every time until her uncle assumed the parental role, no matter how much it hurt her, Willow always buried it deep and hoped that maybe one day her mother or her father would see her and she would have any form of acknowledgement that they actually cared.

But it never came. She never knew love from those that gave her life. Her Uncle Charlie was the first one to give her that and her Aunt Zippo. Eventually she understood that feeling from her cousins, from her Fallen Angel family.

Fallen Angels don’t fly because their wings are tattered but we rise with the darkness, becoming one with our tragedy and circumstances. In the Garden of Eden, we are watchful protectors..

“Rise with the darkness…” She muttered under her breath, her voice was still hoarse. She had her eyes on the ground, her face still hot from the amount of burning smoke she had forced on it. “I’ll do better. I promise…” She said as flatly as she could, but deep down, it was like poison on her lips. The last time she made a promise was at Blue Hill. To Key and Poppy. She promised them she wouldn’t ghost again. That she wouldn’t leave, but this one..it was different. It felt empty. Devoid of anything that sparked joy. It was nothing just like Willow was.

To develop self control, empathy and logical thinking, there must be full consciousness. Awareness of action, of behaviour, of all violence shown throughout centuries. Remove all of that in a second, with a snap of one’s finger, a monster comes out to play. Creatures are born with a core that isn’t capable of love. All they can see is red. All we are, what lays dormant inside of us, until we break the chains, is a monster.

We are monsters.

Cold and frenzied, darkness overtaking the woman that never was, the apex predator knew her vice very well. A vice that lasted throughout the ages, surviving the tide of change and the making of history. Death should be straightforward and quick. Death was unavoidable, coming for us all. Death was not the greatest loss one could experience. The greatest loss is what dies within the self. What you choose to give up on. What you’re forced to let go. Death was mercy. Death was forgiveness. Death was everything and nothing at all.

What was death but a friend waiting to embrace you?

What was death but a kindness?

Knowing where she stood, the Basilisk poised herself and watched the scene play out. Unsettlingly silent, she eased her breathing and waited. Waited as she let her sixth sense, her inner beast, take control of everything that she was. Everything that she could be. In a Gallows shirt that reached her thighs, wearing black undergarments, the Basilisk prowled closer, unnoticed and out of sight. Out of mind.

Once her target was distracted and occupied, she approached him, pre-genocide mode, on a chemical high like an animal devoting their time, their energy and their resources to war. Survival of the fittest. She was a killer and she had a kill to make. Abandoning her humanity, her heart and her soul, her expression void of emotion, her eyes glinted in a way that made her stand out among others, unnatural and not right. Heartless and absolutely frightening. Wicked and off the edge of sin. Hopeless and beyond saving. Eyes without a face.

The Basilisk gripped at the man, hurting what was her’s. Not caring who this person was, blocking all information but the objective in mind and in sight, the monster was able to forcibly separate the prey from his meal in a matter of seconds. After elbowing him in his side, she ripped him away from the wounded bird and slammed him into a nearby wall, twisting his left hand in the process. Not only did she break his hand, crushing it in her grasp, but she momentarily impaired his vision by the sudden trauma to the head. Her breathing stood steady like she could do this in her sleep. Her breathing was unnatural. Trained and calm. Balanced and focused. Her breathing was controlled. She was in control.

Hurling him across the room and into the dining room table, causing it to break, she stalked her prey. Her senses hyper fixated on her environment. She could smell lingering smoke from the burner, his womanising cologne and fear from a vulnerable and confused woman. She could hear the other two’s heavy breaths and saw his chest move with each sharp gasp. The Basilisk circled the man as he squirmed to get up. Ruthlessly, she kicked her bare foot into his ribcage. Pain was a reminder of how fragile life was. How fragile he was. Shackling him to the ground, her serpentine eyes scanned the man’s face. Not seeing the man she was hurting. Not seeing her brother. At this moment, Anya Kamensky was no more. Anya Kamensky wasn’t Jade’s Pancake. Anya Kamensky was not the sister of Cameron Mason Hyde. Anya Kamensky was dead and all that was in sight was a monster. A monster among men.

He roared in laughter; blood dripping out of his mouth onto the not-so pristine carpet and staining his lips red. It had been so very long since Cameron had felt anything like this. Pain to this degree, it was almost orgasmic. When he was younger, he had found pleasure in pain out of necessity at first. With a revolving door of men who would both beat him senseless or creep into his bedroom to indulge in sick fantasies whilst his mother did nothing, he had to do something to make it all ok, to make it so that it didn’t hurt any more. Hyde searched feverishly through the sharpness, the burning sensations and the dull aches to find a way to enjoy the unspeakable horrors that were befalling him. Once he did, there was no looking back.

When he got old enough, big enough, the tables turned and it became his turn to dish out the pain, to explore pleasure and catharsis through the infliction of great damage. Do unto others. His mother April would preach the word of God, pray and worship at his altar and beg for his forgiveness for allowing the monsters near her baby boy. God doesn’t forgive and neither did Cameron. On the day it all ended, when the fire inside extinguished and the pain and pleasure had ceased, Hyde would ascend into heaven to be judged for his actions, he would stand in front of St Peter at the Gates of Paradise and then he would tear out his throat. He would March through infinity until he was face to face with the Lord and he would take his head off for allowing the world to do to Cameron what it did. He was the God of Death come to take his rightful throne.

But that wasn’t going to be today.

With a mighty roar, Hyde grabbed at his assailant's ankle and swept it from beneath them. As quickly as he could, he mounted the half naked woman’s chest, pressing all of his weight onto her chest to pin her and with the one good hand he had, he grabbed a piece of broken table with the intent of piercing her face with its end. Cold blue eyes were awash with emotion as the maelstrom of rage swept through his mind. Cameron’s blood covered mouth made him look demonic, a hell spawn crawled out of the muck to take its vengeance.

It was as he brought the stake down that he then saw the green eyes. He couldn’t mistake them for anyone else. He knew those eyes. With his crippled hand he took a hold of her face and held it as firmly as the pain would allow, his bloody grin hovering over as he examined the features he knew all too well. “Well well. Baby sister.” He spat a mound of blood across the room before he got up to his feet and back away, dropping his weapon. Cameron raised his hands in feux surrender and began to laugh once more. This was hysterical.

_{”Stop it…”}

Her throat was a dry well, devoid of anything. Her body was devoid of anything. Willow…Jade - the struggle of those two names. The one she loathed because it was a reminder of her trauma and the parents that caused and one that became her identity. A shield and sword defending against the one that came before it. Both were her. Both were tied to the angel princess. Both were etched into her soul, but only one gave her strength. Only one could bring her out of the daze secured, copyrighted, and branded by the Devil himself and hearing what seemed like out of a nightmare or some book she might find at Swerve. Some demonic being.

But it was Hyde. Cameron Hyde who was bloodied. She could see it from where she was sitting. Willow Jade’s legs were shaking, but when she saw Anya on the floor, with the devil hovering over her, bearing a piece of the now broken dining room table, something in her just snapped. She didn’t care anymore. She didn’t care that in her weakest state, she couldn’t stop him from reducing her to a shell she hadn’t felt in over a decade. The Angel Princess stood up, gripping the countertop for support, intent to save her Pancake, but then four words froze her where she stood. It hadn’t put her in any mentally-isolated state, but when she heard Cameron call Anya his sister, she muttered, _"What…” It was a feeble attempt to speak and she was inching closer and closer to the gates of hell, saying it again but clearer, “What did you say?” She was feeling all kinds of emotions while so many thoughts came rushing to her mind. Willow Jade took in deep breaths, trying to process this but it was no use. Those deep breaths turned into shorter ones which eventually created a hyperventilating moment she tried to control. Willow Jade tried to control it and she failed.

She managed to get enough control on it to say, “No..you’re lying. She’s not…You’re not…” She proceeded to panic, falling to the floor in a slow, descending manner as if the entire world around her was coming to a stop and all she heard were those words on a repeated echoing loop.

Locked in a memory box, the Basilisk watched a beautiful blonde woman rush around in an attic, throwing as much as she could in a suitcase, including the blue brooch that Jade heard her talk about when they first sat at Dolly’s together. She spoke in fast Russian about an underground secret passage and how tonight would be the day they’d both fly out of this cage. The woman’s face was suddenly alerted by screaming coming from downstairs. She cursed under her breath.

Rushing to her daughter, who was small and holding a straw doll, sitting on a cot, the ethereal woman kissed her forehead and instructed her to take her jar of stars and run once the coast was clear. The woman pulled some wood panels up from the ground and slipped her child in the floor. It was almost as if she expected this to happen. In the darkness, the little girl found comfort. It was the moment she pushed the wood slabs up to escape that she saw the horrors that waited for her in the light.

A monster ripped the wings off an angel and let her blood stain the white bed sheets. An angel died and that’s because she was found by someone so inhumane and all that hope that once was in her eyes to fly was gone. All emotion was gone. She had no pulse.

Opening her eyes to the sound of Jade hyperventilating and Cameron laughing, Anya found herself staring at the ceiling. The Angel Princess’ tears struck a chord in her but instead of shutting down or rushing to Jade’s side, Anya laid there, centering her breathing. Burying any feeling of regret and sadness that was stirring in her chest, the assassin picked herself up and tilted her head at her brother, Jade’s sobbing fading in the background. “You think you some God, big brother? And this, putting fear in girls you hurt so easy… you call power? You have no idea what power is. You think you strong? Impossible to break? I can change that. You’re nothing, Cameron. Special to who? Only you. Now,” Anya stepped on the broken table and breached the distance between her and her half sibling, daring him to hurt her like he was about to, daring him to go near Jade. “This won’t happen again. You will leave and not come near Jade again. If you test this, you will regret. Understand? Or do I show you example of what I mean?”

“I’m no God, Anya. There’s no such thing.” Hyde dropped the stake from his palm, the clatter of it hitting the floor of the apartment piercing the eerie blanket of silence that had smothered the room around them. “If there was? He wouldn’t allow monsters like us and our darling brother to suck air.” His half twin’s words were pointed and sharp like the edge of a knife. They cut deep but he would survive, Cameron always survived. He’d been stabbed before and no doubt he would be again. He was so used to pain in all her glorious forms that he had almost become numb to it, like the nerves inside had been completely obliterated leaving only still blankness.

Hyde backed away from his sister, the red mist in his eyes clearing as he gazed upon the face they shared. He glanced at his broken hand with a blood stained smile on his face. “This was a good move, nice one….Pancake.” He spoke playfully as he tried to ball his shattered fingers into a fist but was unable to do so due to the pain his body was fighting to register. He breezed by the two women and made his way to the fridge, taking out a beer with his one good hand and cracking it open. “This is all very Shakespearean isn’t it?” He said taking a mouthful as he leaned against the counter top. “I’m sent to watch over the pasty white stick here, whilst the entire time she’s falling in love with my little sister. What next? You kill everyone that’s ever wronged you and live happily ever after? Anya saves her princess from this tower and rides off into the sunset on your Harley? It doesn’t work like that.”

The blocks of ice which Cameron called his baby blues drifted over to the crumpled heap which was once a woman on the floor. Jade reminded him so much of the mess that his mother was. How weak and pathetic the world around her had made her and the lack of strength to fight back. “It’s a little curious that you two are doing...whatever the hell this is and yet, Anya didn’t tell you about me, Jade. I mean I can almost understand that but has she told you about our brother too? I mean you know him as well and she actually likes him so...very Curious.”

She had to control herself. Control her breathing. She had to control everything so she could stop her entire body from shaking. But she failed at it. The Angel Princess failed at everything. Nothing she did would be good enough. Even after the gates of hell themselves seemed to close, the effects remained and there sat a frozen, semi-motionless Willow Jade trying to do something as simple as steady her breathing, but that became close to impossible to do when that very thing was overshadowed by the maelstrom of thoughts pouring in. Had it not been for his voice using the name that she gave to Anya, a name that became a thing of peace. A safe place for her to escape to, now it was being corrupted by his presence. Tarnished by his venom and somehow that snapped her to the present.

Slowly but surely, she was able to breathe. Her mind was still a crowded room but she could breathe, escape to a part of it where those were simply not a matter of importance. As she did and as she started to move like she was in control, the blonde remained seated, though she was looking at Anya. She was looking at her so-called protector. When he mentioned they had a brother and that he was somebody that she knew, again the thoughts poured in but she shook her head to shut them up…for the time being. “What are you talking about?” Jade asked, her voice still weak but loud enough for them to hear her clear enough. She slowly went to Anya’s gaze. “...What is he talking about?” She knew curiosity would kill her but part of her already died tonight after being brought to life, so it didn’t really matter how much deeper she went into these depths.

Not once did Jade care to ask about her family until now, until the Devil showed her fantasy was just that, a fantasy. The voice that once pulled Anya out of the dark was now forcing her back in. This was not the time or place for this conversation and she wasn’t going to give her brother the satisfaction of showing how weak she was getting because she believed she could love. Not looking at the broken winged angel who was seeking answers, Anya built her walls back up. Coldness feeling the air when the heart that once glinted in her green eyes was now buried deep, six feet under. Ignoring the woman and only addressing her brother, the Basilisk scoffed, humoured by his curiosities. “You know secrets better than most, big brother.” At this point, the damage was done and Anya knew the only way out was forward, even if it meant leaving what she thought was her happiness behind. “You care so much about my business. You honour yourself and tell her then.”

“Oh no no.” Hyde downed his bottle of beer and tossed it across the room. The place was a shitheap anyway, what was one more pile of crap? “I’m obviously intruding here, I’ll let you two lovers have some nice pillow talk.” Cameron tried to clench his fist again but the pain in his broken hand prevented him from doing so. The sensation he felt shooting between his fingers and down the wrist into his forearm was invigorating. As soon as he left here he would go to Jessie or Cadence, whoever answered their phone first and he would destroy them ...or maybe there was something else he could channel all this feeling into…?

Hyde stepped forward a few feet, breezing by Jade and making his way to his sister. It was obvious now that there was no real benefit to him protecting Jade. If she had chosen Anya as the person she wanted to be with, then Charlie’s niece was as good as dead. It was mostly just going to be a case of how cold her corpse was when he got out of prison. Cameron leaned in and rested his shattered hand on the bloodied cheek of his twin and smiled with his bloody grin. “Love you sis.” He kissed her temple before moving beyond the girls towards the front door. “Maybe we’ll do breakfast soon. As a family, you’re more than welcome to come Jade, our breakfasts are to die for…” Once again the Devil erupted into a fit of laughter as he departed the apartment, his hysterics fading quietly into the night.

That demonic choir of laughter that echoed in her mind as the door of her apartment closed lingered in her mind. He might’ve been gone but his presence wasn’t. The effect he had on her life as she knew it wasn’t. Jade was left with a spiraling cyclone of thoughts that poured into her, freezing her where she sat, and paralyzing every aspect of her soul. The only thing she could even think of that could help her in any way, shape, or form was the comforting gaze of her Pancake, but even that felt like it wasn’t an option. The coldness in her eyes was she had never seen before. Not even the glacier stare that she felt whenever Cameron Hyde looked at her compared. Maybe it was because he didn’t mean much to her, whereas Anya meant everything to her.

You have to get up.

The voice in her head was adamant about that and Jade still didn’t budge for a few more moments. Whether they were short or long ones didn’t seem to matter in the grand scheme of things. Jade gathered what strength she had to give to herself, all with the intent of just standing up. Something stopped her from moving towards Anya, who at this point didn’t move from where she was either. What had happened? Was it something Jade did? Or maybe it was Hyde? There was so much she still hadn’t fully processed yet and she needed time but all she wanted to do was hug her Pancake. The only person she knew could make this all better, but as she started to approach, as Jade started to move even an inch, there was something that refused that advancement from where she stood. The memory of Anya’s cold stare briefly meeting her eyes. The way she brushed her off so coldly. It stung and lingered like a bad aftertaste. That knife only dug deeper as Jade tried to force herself to speak. “Anya..I..” It didn’t feel like sweetness when she spoke her name. Not like before. What was it? Not poison but something hurt. Something burned.

“This…” Anya whispered, not finishing her thought out loud. She didn’t look at Jade. She looked at her hands. The hands that time and time again were covered in blood. The hands that murdered people for a living. The hands that rarely held someone close. Not in the way she held Jade. She balled them into fists, understanding why her Father told her emotions were for fools. She didn’t hurt. Anya couldn’t process the pain from this situation like a normal person. She felt stupid. Stupid for thinking something like this could ever be for her. She was a fool and it was all because she thought she could love and be loved. She thought Jade could love her. “I need to go.” Anya stressed and walked past her once-upon-a-dream-girl, not even giving Jade a second glance. She grabbed her coat and headed straight to the bedroom to change back into her clothes. Before Jade could follow her, there was banging on her door.

Don’t go…please.. was what she wanted to say. Was what Jade should say, but she couldn’t even speak. Her heart was shattered and it didn’t help anything when there was a rapid banging on her door.

”Jade! It’s Doc! Everything okay? Wanted to check in on you!” She heard Dominic Wells say from the other side, but all Jade wanted to do was snap herself into the present and stop Anya from leaving, but she also knew if she didn’t answer the door, Doc would think something was wrong, which was still technically the truth.

“I’m coming. Everything’s…” She couldn’t say it. She couldn’t say everything was fine when it wasn’t. It was the furthest from being okay, but Jade didn’t want to bring the overprotection of her family on her for something that didn’t involve them. So she opened the door, meeting Dominic’s clearly worried face and she gave him a fake smile, hoping that would be enough.

The loud noise did startle Lorelei and caused her to go catatonic in her new friends’ apartment. After Duke and Doc slowly brought her back from her ptsd episode, Doc was ready to investigate. Duke chose to stay back because it was clear this was an angel affair. Not only would it be weird for Doc to come out of his apartment, with a young girl, but he also didn't need anyone in his business. He'd be on standby mode with a first aid kit and ice pack until Doc needed him. As Dominic tried to leave, Lorelei held onto his sleeve and wouldn’t let go. Now she was here with him as the first responders. Poking her head from behind the older man, the eighteen year old gazed at the distressed woman. She didn’t say anything. All she did was cling to the man in front of her.

It wasn’t long until other angels started to gather, like the three prospects that had seen Jade walk out the elevator earlier, with a vengeful blonde woman that had a resting bitch face. One of them spoke up, “Did she hurt you?” They each looked past her to see if the other woman was in there. They were ready to handle it, if that’s what Jade needed.

Jade felt like the walls around her were closing. They were literally as the prospects and Dom and whoever the younger girl attached at his hip was, she needed a minute. She needed space, so she just put up her hand with her index finger up. “Just… give me a moment. I need some air.” She started to take in short, quick breaths just like earlier. Her heart was beating fast and she went into her bedroom. She needed Anya. She needed Anya. I need Anya…

And when she got into her room, hoping that by some miracle, she could just take a moment to talk to her without the chaos of what was happening inside or outside her bedroom, nobody was there. She saw her window was opened and whatever Anya had in Jade’s bedroom was gone too. She collapsed on the floor, on the ground. She hadn’t even bothered to close her bedroom door. She didn’t think to, but as she sat there, her head buried into her hands, she finally broke.

Her face became hot with tears, wails of anguish pouring out as she smacked her head repeatedly against the palms of her hands. Why did this even have to happen? She didn’t understand. She didn’t understand why any of this had to happen…

But she wasn’t alone. The Angels didn’t even hesitate. Dominic led them inside and without even realizing it, they had been by her side. They were always going to be by her side. By their princess’ side. Looking up at them, seeing how they wouldn’t let her fall, even though she couldn’t force herself to smile, Jade was so thankful for them. “I don’t want to be alone right now…” That’s all she brought herself to say as she let everything that had been building up out in a waterfall of tears, her entire body shaken, but most of all, her heart and soul were completely shattered.

For the first time in her life, Jade truly felt like a fallen angel.

Digimon: Materialization

@metanoia 2 main partners maximum, and they have to start out as Rookies.

@Big McLargehuge

Oh bitchin'! This will be fun to think about which two i wanna use. I tend to put a theme of some kind on my tamers/digimon partners, so with two, i'm gonna have some fun with this.

EDIT: Another question: Are we limited to data/vaccine or can we go virus too?