Horrid

Digimon: Access Point

Sure, the West Coast was sunny as all get-out usual, but right now the world outside was a bit too cold for some, especially in the lounge of a small apartment in Modesto, California, where a young bald boy dressed in a thick blue woollen cardigan, baggy purple sweatpants and a pair of striped grey and white wool socks lay on the carpeted floor. He was absentmindedly watching the gathering precipitation on the glass door that looked out on to the balcony, three stories up. The sky was roiling and rolling with dark grey clouds as the boy pulled his beanie down lower over his head and huffed a cloud of hot air, visible in the chill of the room. He couldn't help but feel a bit down as he watched the rain pelt against the door and dribble down to run off the balcony through slits in the bottom of the concrete railing. Curled up in his arms was a small creature, a mass of feathers that vibrated ever so slightly with every light snore that it uttered. It kicked out with a leg in its sleep and groaned weakly. 'Must be off dreaming again. Playing some game outside instead of being stuck inside. Must be nice.' The boy smiled as he looked down at the bundle of grey feathers and down in his arms, uttering a short hum of contentment before a sudden flash of bright light emerged from the sky for but a second, before dispersing in the same instant. The smile he previously held was drooping as he saw two more lights emit from the skies in short order, and as the loud cracks and terrible rumbling shook the door, he jumped and his smile was struck from his face. The bundle in his arms leapt to its birdlike feet with the commotion, before falling back onto its behind again with a look over its shoulder at the now-shaking boy. It was a short, silent moment before the bird spoke in its lilting, chirpy voice. "Did the storm spook you again, Alika?" Its expression was furrowed with concern, bringing its grey and purple crest of feathers lower down on its head as the red tail-feathers on its behind drooped to the floor. Alika could do nothing but sit with his back against the couch and his legs tight against his chest, but slowly he nervously nodded at the creature and it hooted sadly as its coat became flat. The bird creature pushed its round body from the floor and strode over to him and sat in front of his feet, wrapping its wing-arms around his ankles and regarding him with a look of worry. "Well its just lightning and thunder Ali, it can't get us if we're inside. Please don't worry so much." Its large golden eyes shifted ever few moments, trying to judge his emotions. The worry did not fade at all. Alika continued to shake until another voice, slightly more mature but still feminine like the creatures came from Alika's side. "Alika, Faye, what are you two doing on the floor?" Alika's head snapped to his side with alarm as he was met with the sock-garbed ankles of his mother. She smiled down at him when he looked up, but also grew worried when she saw the boy's quivering. She slowly and gracefully got down to her knees and wrapped her arms around her son with a sad sigh. "Still after all these years, you're afraid of storms?" Her words were slightly condescending, but her tone was one of motherly concern. Alika bit his lip and leaned into his mother's embrace, nodding slightly. 'More like terrified beyond thought.' Another bolt from the grey sea overhead made him jump slightly, and his mother attempted to calm him with a soft shushing, patting him on the head. "Is it because of the big storm back home?" She inquired further, inciting another weak nod from her son. She couldn't help but grab his chin with a soft grip and turn his head towards her, so she could look into his eyes and speak. "Sweetheart, I've told you so many times, the storms back home aren't nearly as bad as the ones here. Our home is much stronger here too, so it might sound scary, but it will never get as bad as before. Promise." Her voice as stern, but honest. Alika simply nodded along. Then she spoke softly to him, "Why don't you and Faye go to your room and put some music on your computer? Your father finally fixed that double adaptor thing that your sister broke, so both you and Faye could listen to something... That is if the headphones fit on Faye's head." She giggled, it was a pleasant, bubbly noise and Alika felt slightly calmer hearing it. Faye crossed her arms and huffed, strutting off towards Alika's room on her three-toed feet, but not before hopping in to tickle at Alika's mother's ribs. Alika's mother jumped and her giggles devolved into snorting, wheezing laughter before Falcomon raced off to the bedroom, chortling evilly the entire way. Alika smiled as his mother let him go, and rose to step over her on the floor. She seemed to just stay there, smiling at him warmly. He gave her a small wave, which she returned, before sliding into his room slowly. Faye was already sitting on the bed, cooing quietly. She had already set the headphones up to Alika's computer, on the desk next to the bed, and managed to put her headphones on with little difficulty. She smiled as best as a creature with a beak can, and bounced on the spot, chirping and hooting excitedly. "Hooo! Hoohoooo! Play Groovin' Slowly! Pleaaaaaaase? For me?" Alika smiled as she put her wings together in a mock begging gesture and browsed to his music. He double-clicked and soon both pairs of headphones where filled with the calming sounds of light guitar and slow bass. Faye's head began to bob slowly as the music played, beak opening and clacking closing as the mouthed the words. Alika felt calmer as the chorus started. And as he checked his email, he too couldn't help but give in to the rhythm and words, singing under his breath. "Groovin' Slowlyyyyy," he logged in and clicked his inbox, expecting nothing but more spam and invitations to stupid browser-based farm games, "With my woman." He looked over to Faye as the webpage loaded, her large eyes were closed and her head was looking down at her stomach as she bobbed from side to side, in a trance. There was a new message. From EBE. Another message from EBE. A message titled 'TIME'. His heart sped up slightly as he clicked it straight away. Was this another digi-egg? As he clicked it, he heard a strange whining. He thought maybe corruption in the song, because Falcomon seemed to hear it as well, with her much sharper ears. She flipped her headphones off and hopped off the bed, walking over to Alika's school-bag to root around inside. "Uhhhh, hoohoo boy. Alika, remember how you had that Gameboy in your bag?" Alika stood as she pulled the now-shining handheld console from the black bag. It shifted and morphed until it became a shape that he vaguely recognised. This can't be happening, it was always phones that changed, right? He didn't even have a phone! The light solidified and dimmed as Faye held a digivice in her talons, out to him. 'This isn't happening. This can't be happening.' His mind said for him as they both stared with mouths agape. Alika was the first to recover and spoke. "I think I just got gipped out of a Gameboy."

Achievers

(Intended as a more mid-high level character, can be changed or clarified if asked, that is completely fine. If it is not okay, please tell me.) Name: Morrigan Farkas Age: 22 Gender: Female Race: Human Alliance: Vurtan Empire Appearance: Standing at nearly 6'2", Morrigan is a tall woman of pale, freckled complexion with long, curly locks of black hair that dangle down to the middle of her back. She is a fit woman, and possesses very pleasing features overall from soft face to average chest and round hips, if it weren't for her upbringing or the fact that she is missing an eye and a good portion of her body is scarred and calloused, she could have easily passed her way through the social circles into becoming a high-fashion schmoozer or an small-time model. She wears a black eye-patch over her left eye at all times to save people the sight of the scarred, burnt crater that stands in its place. She often wears a sort of reinforced stab vest under a tight shirt, beneath a greatcoat complete with epaulettes. Her pants stay tucked into her knee-high combat boots and have buckles/straps in the place of laces. The most intriguing aspect of Morrigan's appearance is what she wears upon her arms. A pair of intriguing black gauntlets that look to be made of some sort of mix of a black metal and dark insectoid carapace. The more organic looking part vary from grey to black and fade into a very faint gradient of muted blue. In short, she looks very similar to this, but without the hat, skulls and bird medal on the sash at her waist, as well as longer hair, an eyepatch and the Arms. Personality: A vehement believer in the ideology that injustice and defiance must be fought physically for the problem to be truly solved. She is not the type to play soothsayer, preferring to taunt and jest at her company's expense to spur situations she finds herself in to some sort of raging dispute. She prefers to act alone, but can be personable when it is needed or as the situation demands. She conducts herself with an air of superiority, not drawing from a sense of upper-class/racial privilege that is so present within the Vurtan Empire but a sense of outranking those she meets through strength of will and character. Being the daughter of a military general has led to her being very militaristic in the way she conducts herself in her day to day life. Regular exercise, personalised meal plan, set times during the day for activities and a strict regimen on how she treats herself and others, all spawned from a life under the thumb of a vindictive, no-nonsense father who liked to bring his work home. Powers: Physical Prowess Morrigan is in peak physical form for a human, being trained and worked to the bone for years since her childhood. Able to outmatch most humans in strength, endurance and agility, one might say from first glance that she has surpassed what the average human can be expected to do even with a life dedicated to bettering themselves and attempting to become an elite athlete. She is able to crack stone and slightly warp steel with a punch, but can only run fast enough in short bursts to dodge or retreat from oncoming danger such as oncoming traffic or a rolling boulder. When movement is needed in combat or in chase scenarios she prefers to hop or leap around, strong legs well suited to letting her gain some air. She is able to leap 10m distance at maximum pushing power, and 3m into the air vertically. Arms of the Fallen These arm-covering terrors seem to augment Morrigan's strength when in battle, blue edges glowing and intensifying until the blue is replaced with white and blue spreads further in to the central mass of the shell. These gauntlets feed from her willpower and lifeblood to increase her physical capabilities to the point that she hardly seems human at all. Stone cracking, metal warping punches now grind boulders into dust and warp metal to the point of deformation. Her speed is only made ever so slightly faster, but nothing that could not be outrun. Her leaps and bounds however advance from 10m horizontally and 3m vertically, to around 20m horizontally and 10m vertically, effectively doubling. This burst of sudden strength can not be maintained for long, even with Morrigan's peak fitness as the drain on her is quite significant to the point that more than 15-20 minutes of constant use in this state would either cause her to gradually submit control to the Arms ('falling' as she calls it), or faint from blood loss, depending on whether her will or blood ran low first. This 'Fallen' mode also carries the risk of tearing muscles and breaking bones if control is not regained immediately, as the Arms put significant stress on her body to push past her mortal limits in the pursuit of victory. Equipment: 'The Arms of the Fallen' - Her sentient, parasitic fist weapons. Upon Morrigan's arms, latched on all the way up to her shoulders, are a pair of matching, monstrous armoured gauntlets. They start at the shoulders with a pauldron of blue edged carapace that is covered by a gardbrace of black metal, bolted into the pauldron below. Rondels that look reminiscent of eyes look out from near her armpit. This leads down to a rerebrace of smooth insectoid shell with that same blue hue, bolted with small plates of black metal, to cover her arm below the pauldrons down to the elbow. At the elbow there is a cowter of carapace and metal that seems to sprout one blunt stud of spiralled metal and shell, this finally leads down to a vambrace and studded, clawed gauntlets. They match the size of her normal arms, but cannot be removed. 'Red Rum' - A sawed-off Remington 870 with a side saddle shell holder, fired one-handed and kept in a holster on her left hip, beneath her coat when not in use. The holster has a slot to accommodate the side saddle. She keeps around 15 shells on her belt when out and about. Has a heavily scratched red paint finish.

Welcome To H.I.V.E

Yep.