(no subject)
Who: Daigo Kazama, Black Gaomon, and the lucky bounty hunter of the day.
What: Daigo tries to put his plan into action.
When: Saturday, January 23nd, Morning.
Where: Neon City streets.
It had been several days, and Daigo was starting to worry that he had been off the mark. It had been two days since he had left the Royal Base without so much as a word to his unit, and so far, the only thing that even came close to being a disturbance was the way that digimon would part before him like he had some sort of virus. Daigo was used to the insults, and the alienation was something that he'd come to expect. But not one soul had seen fit to attack him.
And that one fact was eating at him. It was disheartening to be reviled so, but even more it was the fact that nobody had confronted him even out of some sense of revenge, let alone as one of the attackers in this much larger scheme. It seemed as though everything was subdued, and he doubted it was his reputation that was responsible. There was something more amiss, a definite change in the air. As he took a bite of a meat bun, he wondered if there was something that he'd missed simmering deep below the surface.
Beside him, Black Gaomon noisily and messily polished off a breakfast burrito. Heaving a contented sigh, he looked up at his partner and squinted. "You getting down on me?" he asked. "Remind me again why we left?"
"Discontentment," Daigo said simply, taking another subdued bite. "And this is doing nothing to help it."
"Yeah, yeah," Black Gaomon said dismissively. "You worry too much."
What: Daigo tries to put his plan into action.
When: Saturday, January 23nd, Morning.
Where: Neon City streets.
It had been several days, and Daigo was starting to worry that he had been off the mark. It had been two days since he had left the Royal Base without so much as a word to his unit, and so far, the only thing that even came close to being a disturbance was the way that digimon would part before him like he had some sort of virus. Daigo was used to the insults, and the alienation was something that he'd come to expect. But not one soul had seen fit to attack him.
And that one fact was eating at him. It was disheartening to be reviled so, but even more it was the fact that nobody had confronted him even out of some sense of revenge, let alone as one of the attackers in this much larger scheme. It seemed as though everything was subdued, and he doubted it was his reputation that was responsible. There was something more amiss, a definite change in the air. As he took a bite of a meat bun, he wondered if there was something that he'd missed simmering deep below the surface.
Beside him, Black Gaomon noisily and messily polished off a breakfast burrito. Heaving a contented sigh, he looked up at his partner and squinted. "You getting down on me?" he asked. "Remind me again why we left?"
"Discontentment," Daigo said simply, taking another subdued bite. "And this is doing nothing to help it."
"Yeah, yeah," Black Gaomon said dismissively. "You worry too much."