A Dazzling Place I Never Knew (OPEN!)
Who: Ash, Pukamon; YOU! (OPEN)
When: Thursday August 25th; evening
Where: Desert, Server continent, digital world
What: Real world city kid meets the digital world outback, and perhaps other Chosen/Tamers. Did I mention he's never been to the digital world before? Because he's never been to the digital world before.
Just over halfway through the penultimate term of his photography diploma, Ash felt like he was biting off more than he could chew. Between photography, Spanish classes at a different school entirely, increased hours at work, and the start of the rugby Tri Nations, Ash hadn't had time to check Livejournal in a few weeks, so he'd missed the posts about misbehaving digital gates. Pukamon, who had, to Ash's chagrin, begun a campaign to allow digimon partners on the Disney College Program and spent his spare time trying to keep Ash sane, had similarly missed the gossip.
So the pair had expected a regular evening, and things had certainly started out that way: At the end of Ash's shift, Pukamon had brought Ash's dinner to the supermarket where he worked, and the pair had started walking home together, Ash devouring a sandwich.
"Brendan's back in Wellington for the holidays," Pukamon said. "Feeling a bit better for it after, you know, so he said he'll try to write me a testimonial some time this week."
"Holidays," breathed Ash, interested in the news about their former roommate but concentrating too hard on his dinner to catch the whole announcement. "I would love a holiday."
"You work all holidays," Pukamon pointed out. "Not much point in you having one."
As much as Ash wanted to point out that he wanted a holiday without work, the fact that he was suddenly falling for some reason, a lot further than if he'd simply tripped, seemed much more important.
Pukamon waking up first was nothing unusual, but even before he opened his eyes, he could feel something different. It wasn't just the climate, drier and warmer than Melbourne that night, nor the sand he lay on instead of the concrete he would have expected passing out on the streets of St Kilda, but something different in his bones, in his body...
He was home.
Immediately Pukamon's eyes shot open and he took to the air, trying to get his bearings. The sand wasn't the beach that was his home, but stretched out as far as he could see in every direction with only the odd cactus to break the monotony. He'd heard tales of a desert land in the digital world... Server, was it? Randomly finding himself in the digital world certainly seemed more likely to him than randomly finding himself in the Australian outback.
Two metres away from him, Ash had landed face first in the sand and was apparently still unconscious. The digivice clipped to the back belt loop of his work pants didn't seem to have anything new on the display (though Pukamon hardly knew if it was supposed to), so Pukamon started nudging Ash in the shoulder.
"Ash. Ash, wake up!"
Ash lifted his head and spat out a mouthful of sand.
"What the hell?"
Then he saw his surroundings.
"I haven't had a drink in a few weeks," he stated. "There is no way I've blacked out badly enough to end up in the outback."
"And there's no way I'd let you end up in the outback if I was with you," Pukamon added. "I'm too good of a sober driver for that."
Normally Ash would point out that Pukamon couldn't drive sober or drunk, but under the circumstances this did not seem particularly important. He stood, turning around and around to check for landmarks, and finding none. (He did notice his sandwich, apparently flung from his grip when they'd landed and now half-buried in the sand; what a waste.)
"Hit me," he asked.
Pukamon floated up to punch him in the arm.
"Ow," Ash said, more out of politeness than any real pain. "Okay, definitely awake... What is this? Shared hallucination?"
Pukamon took a deep breath before answering: As excited as he was to be in his home world, he knew Ash wouldn't be nearly so pleased, and it wasn't like he knew where they were or where to find anything useful for survival on this continent either.
"I think we're in the digital world."
"We're what," Ash said flatly. Pukamon opened his mouth to repeat himself, but Ash held up a hand to stop him. "What did you do?"
In their twelve years together, Pukamon had very rarely heard Ash raise his voice in anger, and most of it had been in their early days, when the kid had wanted nothing to do with this dangerous monster.
But what did he do? That was uncalled for.
"What do you mean, what did I do?" Pukamon demanded, flying backwards to face him properly. "Don't you think that if I could have come back, I would've done it years ago?"
Ash gave a nod to Pukamon's iPod bag.
"How do I know this wasn't a technical issue and you've only now got the tech to--"
"You can check the apps on my iPod!"
When: Thursday August 25th; evening
Where: Desert, Server continent, digital world
What: Real world city kid meets the digital world outback, and perhaps other Chosen/Tamers. Did I mention he's never been to the digital world before? Because he's never been to the digital world before.
Just over halfway through the penultimate term of his photography diploma, Ash felt like he was biting off more than he could chew. Between photography, Spanish classes at a different school entirely, increased hours at work, and the start of the rugby Tri Nations, Ash hadn't had time to check Livejournal in a few weeks, so he'd missed the posts about misbehaving digital gates. Pukamon, who had, to Ash's chagrin, begun a campaign to allow digimon partners on the Disney College Program and spent his spare time trying to keep Ash sane, had similarly missed the gossip.
So the pair had expected a regular evening, and things had certainly started out that way: At the end of Ash's shift, Pukamon had brought Ash's dinner to the supermarket where he worked, and the pair had started walking home together, Ash devouring a sandwich.
"Brendan's back in Wellington for the holidays," Pukamon said. "Feeling a bit better for it after, you know, so he said he'll try to write me a testimonial some time this week."
"Holidays," breathed Ash, interested in the news about their former roommate but concentrating too hard on his dinner to catch the whole announcement. "I would love a holiday."
"You work all holidays," Pukamon pointed out. "Not much point in you having one."
As much as Ash wanted to point out that he wanted a holiday without work, the fact that he was suddenly falling for some reason, a lot further than if he'd simply tripped, seemed much more important.
Pukamon waking up first was nothing unusual, but even before he opened his eyes, he could feel something different. It wasn't just the climate, drier and warmer than Melbourne that night, nor the sand he lay on instead of the concrete he would have expected passing out on the streets of St Kilda, but something different in his bones, in his body...
He was home.
Immediately Pukamon's eyes shot open and he took to the air, trying to get his bearings. The sand wasn't the beach that was his home, but stretched out as far as he could see in every direction with only the odd cactus to break the monotony. He'd heard tales of a desert land in the digital world... Server, was it? Randomly finding himself in the digital world certainly seemed more likely to him than randomly finding himself in the Australian outback.
Two metres away from him, Ash had landed face first in the sand and was apparently still unconscious. The digivice clipped to the back belt loop of his work pants didn't seem to have anything new on the display (though Pukamon hardly knew if it was supposed to), so Pukamon started nudging Ash in the shoulder.
"Ash. Ash, wake up!"
Ash lifted his head and spat out a mouthful of sand.
"What the hell?"
Then he saw his surroundings.
"I haven't had a drink in a few weeks," he stated. "There is no way I've blacked out badly enough to end up in the outback."
"And there's no way I'd let you end up in the outback if I was with you," Pukamon added. "I'm too good of a sober driver for that."
Normally Ash would point out that Pukamon couldn't drive sober or drunk, but under the circumstances this did not seem particularly important. He stood, turning around and around to check for landmarks, and finding none. (He did notice his sandwich, apparently flung from his grip when they'd landed and now half-buried in the sand; what a waste.)
"Hit me," he asked.
Pukamon floated up to punch him in the arm.
"Ow," Ash said, more out of politeness than any real pain. "Okay, definitely awake... What is this? Shared hallucination?"
Pukamon took a deep breath before answering: As excited as he was to be in his home world, he knew Ash wouldn't be nearly so pleased, and it wasn't like he knew where they were or where to find anything useful for survival on this continent either.
"I think we're in the digital world."
"We're what," Ash said flatly. Pukamon opened his mouth to repeat himself, but Ash held up a hand to stop him. "What did you do?"
In their twelve years together, Pukamon had very rarely heard Ash raise his voice in anger, and most of it had been in their early days, when the kid had wanted nothing to do with this dangerous monster.
But what did he do? That was uncalled for.
"What do you mean, what did I do?" Pukamon demanded, flying backwards to face him properly. "Don't you think that if I could have come back, I would've done it years ago?"
Ash gave a nod to Pukamon's iPod bag.
"How do I know this wasn't a technical issue and you've only now got the tech to--"
"You can check the apps on my iPod!"