#(emdualism)

Send “☕️” + a TOPIC and my muse will spill their honest thoughts and opinions on it

"I mean... I'd be lying if I said I didn't think it wasn't a tiny bit scary. It is scary, knowing that everything I know, the Net, Navis, even the humans 'round me... we'll all be gone someday."

"With how much Navis are helping humans out, it's a bit sad to know they're gonna evolve past that, y'know? There's gonna be a day when they plug the last fully sentient Navi out, and it'll be it. We'll just be a page in history books."

It often occured to Diggy that her friend repertoire had grown conscequently in a handful of years. Looking back on the history of her meetings of new people, she often felt overwhelmed by a sentiment of fondness - or annoyance, depending on who was concerned. But allowing such a wander of the mind often lead to her remembering that she had not met people in a while, or that she needed to pay urgent visit to someone she had not seen in a while.

One such person was “Pat” Patrick Springs, one of the nicest humans she’d ever met, abnormal only through his almost unnatural ability for kindness (and grass green hair, but that could be entirely blamed on weird genetics). Not having seen an otherwise very sweet and happy kid, especially considering their fondness for their friends, had filled the small ‘bot with an immediate, and deep, sense of dread. Enough that Diggy figured that, with any luck, he wouldn’t mind a surprise visit!

She would bring snacks! And a nice notepad with crayons! Oh, and take him someplace nice too! She just needed to hustle to one of the few cracks in reality she knew lead to his dimension, take a plunge, then come see him with much affection and care! Easy, peasy, lemon squeezy! She just happened to even remember the crack she’d first used to discover his reality - she just had to sneak into a building or two, how hard could it be?

Loaded with the self-promised precious items, and possessed with a deep desire to make right to her friend, Diggy failed to account for a very simple, but crucial, detail. Which was what had happened to her, the first time she HAD indeed visited the green-haired boy’s dimension of static waves and ultra-futuristic cities of glass.

Which Diggy remembered very abruptly as she, in fact, didn’t feel the ground beneath the foot that stepped out from the breach, feeling her weight tumble forward, with her chest barreling through soon after. A glimpse of a rapidly spinning, sprawling garbage dump was revealed to the free-falling ‘bot, and, in a great moment of loneliness, the small ‘bot remembered exactly what she’d managed to forget, likely due to cranial trauma.

“Aw, nuts-” She barely had the time to breathe out, before the wind of her free-fall swallowed her voice, leaving her to scream and flail on the relatively long way down. Her landing was, once again, abrupt, and marked by her sinking a few feet into the garbage layer with a crunch of compacted trash, in a perfect starfish pose.

     IT IS THE LOCK OF HER LIMBS WHICH TREMBLE SLIGHTLY ‘PON SIGHT OF HE;     pit of stomach slur’s with twist of organs    /    contortion of tongue    ---     heavy   &   lead laced.    coated with a resigned bitter softness.    in another life they had been friends  --   nearly brother bonded to another in equal lonesomeness ‘pon faux pretenses.  ( am companion remains silent ‘pon her wrist   ---   for a moment does their rockman visage flicker   ;   an influx of emotional stir )  careful she is  ----   footfalls gentle as shimmering leaf ‘pon breeze    /     breath held   ----.  (  she is rockman for sakes  ----  a powerful being of pure energy  ---   yet here.  she felt more subaru than alter )   after a moment her-- his composer is betwixt faux of ire  & true concern.  her ----- his voice carries the starlight ‘pon the breeze of dusk.

A certain someone needed a snack and berries weren’t cutting it anymore. Fortunately, if there was one thing Rey knew how to do, it was to utilize his resources. And why waste their hard-earned cash on a little malasada? Even if their workers were as diligent as could be, both he and a certain ghost of his were well practiced in getting what they wanted… especially now that all of their training had paid off.

That was how the boy and his now-Banette gained a pair of pastries and a pair of cheeky grins. What Rey didn’t expect, however, was to be caught so soon. Or… was he? The lump of bread landing at his feet was a surprise, and he was quick to turn to the source, trying not to look conspicuous… until he saw who it was.

“You..?!” A pause. That look on Dingo’s face didn’t look like it was merely from realizing thievery had taken place. “…Geez, someone poison your food or something?” His shoulders dropped back as he started nonchalantly munching his snack. “This better not be poison too or you guys’re gonna have to pay us back.”

Dingo almost picked up the malasada so he could finish it. He couldn’t forgive himself for wasting such good food. Being angry was one thing, but ruining a perfectly good malasada ? That made Dingo want to punch someone - maybe himself ...

Fate had brought Dingo a very punchable face. When he heard the familiar voice, and notably its tone, Dingo felt even more anger rush through his veins. “I was at the shop a minute ago. You weren’t buying that malasada.” He growled, forgetting the previous reasons of his anger.

Data from Dingo's computer.

A flicker of the computer screen. It came alive just as Pat walked inside the small bedroom, as if reacting to his very presence.

Windows opened on the old screen at the click of an invisible mouse, displays popping one over the other. Old email conversations, scrolling, scrolling...

Conversations between Dingo or Tomahawkman, and Pat. Right click, properties. Another panel opened, displaying intricate lines of codes. Highlight. Coordinates...

Whoever was controlling the computer, they were figuring something out. Valuable information... deliberately offered hints.

It was a moonless night. The sky was colored in bright orange hues, mist falling down onto the city, hiding the top of the skyscrapers from view. People hurried back home, eager to find the warmth and comfort of their houses.

It was time for the dwellers of the night to rise.

To each their territory. Dingo had established dominance over his little corner of the city, aware of the rumors that now ran amongst the commoners. He only struck when he was desperate, keeping his meals as spaced as body could handle. 

“Hurry up, big bro’ ! The berry farm is right ahead !”

Toma led the way with a spring in his step, eager to see his friend again. He was almost tempted to drag his brother by the arm, but he knew that it would only make the older boy angry.

“I’m coming ! Just slow down ...” Dingo sighed. The uphill road was the death of his legs. “You dunno how many miles I walked for deliveries today ...”

Fortunately, the berry farm was close. Toma rushed inside, all while making sure he didn’t drop the large paper bag he was holding. It contained enough malasada for Pat and his Pokémon to share.