Open Threads

Stole was a new word for it. Rockman had said some choice things, some angry sentiment, but not stole. The time wasn't stolen to them, because- "Um, thank you." Tea. It was always tea. Netto expected coffee, the horrible instant stuff that Enzan only really pulled out when he wasn't expecting anyone. At the office. He stared down at the cup for a few moments. Rockman still inspected the table. "Um, yeah. Um- I guess that was low on the rung of crap that happened, but I thought it was- kinda the worst part." This, Rockman did react to- his hologram disappeared, but he was only returning to the PET. "Uh- the tech he was, working on, was also kinda bad too." He took a sip, and the sting on his tongue seemed to invigorate him to keep talking. "It was, like, a thing to make it easy to do full-synchro with any navi. A Link. Based on, like, the pulse transmission stuff. Just a lot safer. In theory." Maybe if he said it in a rush it wouldn't feel so bad. "It made me really sick, and uh-" He glanced at the PET, and went for it- "I think it's made me, um, unable to synch with Rock. At all." He said it, and it was a bygone conclusion, but soon after the words left his mouth there was a steady drip drip from his cheeks. He was crying. It was the absolute worst part. Damn the lost time, damn the pain, damn the sickness and the hallucinations, this was what was stolen from him. Netto blushed, as if ashamed of it, and looked away from Pen. "W-We just go fucking ballistic if we do. Can't control it anymore. W-Which sucks." Understatement. Netto pushed the heel of his free hand into his eye to stem the sudden flow of tears. He thought he'd already cried them all.

Rei did not take well to being looked down on. Was Heatman trying to purposefully provoke him, or did he genuinely have such little faith in his skills? If he had his real navi with him, he'd certainly prove him how wrong he was..! "I don't think you quite understand", he said coldly and slammed his other hand on the table, "I'm plenty strong without them. All the skill I need, I have." For a moment, he stared daggers at Heatman, before his expression and mannerisms relaxed again. Another wide smile to mask his feelings behind. "Don't you ever wish to be... stronger? To attain more power? Just because I'm strong without a little boost, doesn't mean I don't crave to be more. The Dark Chips are but another tool, one that I've chosen to harness. It's a power that suits me." He was quickly forgetting any reservations he'd had about telling the truth to this navi. If he was to pry and judge, he'd give him things as they are. No use sugarcoating it for someone who already disrespected you. "Any more questions? You're quite the talker, is this an interrogation of some kind?" +++ Celestra could almost sympathize with the navis sentiments, but the Net as she knew it was a place where anyone anytime could challenge you. And today he was an obstacle to her. She took a long look at the navi, his form oddly familiar, as slowly the databases of her memory tried to find a name to match. Swallowman! She'd never met him, but this was a navi she'd heard of in passing. He was easily identified from description alone. But something wasn't right... there was the familiar feeling of DarkAura, resonating off him. "Execute! Ignite the spark!" she continued her 'operators' words. She pounced at Swallowman again, initiating a fight more than anything. She wasn't familiar with Lans operating style, if he'd let her fight independently as Rei did or make her rely on chips more. "Lets take care of this fast! We can't let him go Lan!"

It was just like Siren said, wasn't it?! If these people didn't have something to hide, or some kind of will to impose on everyone else, then they wouldn't be defending their fortress so vehemently!! The barrier being raised was a little intimidating... but she'd push through it!! For the sake of everyone like her...!! It was easy enough for Siren Splash to find herself on autopilot. These guards may have had some kind of voice clip or something, but they were the same as scary, wild viruses, weren't they? She'd done that a million times. She'd operated her Navi- her- her- her...? It was just like before, but she wasn't there, she was here, inside instead of outside and the one firing endlessly on her targets and feeling the most focused she'd ever felt, no, no, was this right? She wasn't a Navi- why was she fighting-? Keep fighting, keep fighting, keep fighting... Siren was having a difficult time comprehending what was going through her host's mind, and she pushed herself to repress it. This human could have a mental breakdown and die, for all she cared - all that she needed to do was last until their job was finished. They'd even managed to give Mega Man the slip - so. Just. Listen. And keep fighting. Siren Splash, in her panic, tossed out an Ice Spin Battle Card, which was enough to cut her a zig-zag-y path through the Satella Police Wizards attacking her. It was almost impressive that she was still able to keep fighting well even while under so much duress. Like the motions had been burned into her brain, inexplicably. (She was doing better than when she was Operating L------, how pathetic-)

"She didn't mention them...?" Rock questioned, genuinely surprised. "I mean, I dunno what they've been up to since we went on our whole overseas trip, but it was still pretty suspicious that they were on the island at the same time as us." She crossed her arms, looking away from the PET; it felt bad to be having a normal conversation with Dr. Wily again, but there was really no avoiding it. "They were makin'... robots or something, right? So what the hell would these data-absorbers have to do with that?" Lan narrowed her eyes, dots connecting chaotically in her mind. "Maybe they're trying to hide something," she speculated. "It'd make sense why they'd want the vaults back if they messed up, right? Maybe they got... like, loose, or something." "If what your contacts say about the vaults is the truth, then that very well could be the case," Dr. Wily surmised. "Technology firms often have some very interesting things to hide. If anything, it would be wise to track this vault down... if only so we can pry for info on how to end this little problem of yours." Lan grumbled, narrowing her eyes. "Okay? Whatever. Where is it, then?" she barked. "If we deal with it, then will you stop calling me?" Choosing to ignore Lan's threat, Wily instead explained the mission. "The company they're suing is a gambling corporation. Their largest casino just so happens to be in downtown Den City," he said. "So it doesn't surprise me that one of those vaults could've crawled all the way there. I'd start by investigating that business. I'm certain they won't even care if you loiter around the premises, given our gambling laws. Ha, ha." Lan immediately blanched. "C-casino... company?" she muttered, bad memories already bubbling up in her mind. Rock, similarly, was looking quite displeased. "Ew... ew... ugh."

Celestra grinned. They were about as resistant as she could have expected. "I have just a select few words to relay from my operator to you" When the swords aura came at her she leaped back, barely dodging the attack. Celestra was eager to make this a fight, but she had to remind herself this wasn't the time. Not yet atleast. She'd be free to do anything later. Anything for the vault. "Consider this a warning. We know who you are, where you work.... so he'd appreciate it if you oblidged", Celestra kept circling them from a distance, but made no move to attack, "name the place. We can talk there. And who knows? If it goes well you might even get a reward" Suddenly a Battle Chip was loaded to her. Dark Thunder. A purple, almost tinted black, aura appeared around her. Celestra's claws dug to the floor. She was eagerly taking in the dark energy, even as all of her systems screamed inside her in opposition to the further corruption. It was standard prodecure by now, never greater than the delight of absorbing a Dark Chip. The thunder attack rolled forward towards Aon, but she wasn't expecting it to hit. What mattered was that the bait was set. As soon as they had a deal she could take her leave. Everything would be settled later. "You can forward the details by messaging a certain rose."

Now that she was seated and paying less attention to keeping the mug from spilling, Meiru noticed the burn wound. At first, the only thing that occurred to her was that it was an odd place for such a mark. “Aw, okay,” said Roll. “Well, if you insist!” Meiru didn’t mind either way; she had her tea, and she wasn’t particularly hungry. She took a sip, looked up to watch Netto introduce himself. He seemed completely normal now, neither unaware of his own injuries or— —Oh. That burn was in the spot she’d ripped the Link from. “I’m… Meiru,” she began. It was hard for her to tell whether she ought to be apologizing for the burn or not. Whether Netto even remembered where it’d come from. She found herself thinking aloud more than anything. “I… really don’t know the first thing about you, do I? In my world, you’re, well, one of my best friends.” “Netto means a lot to her. He and Rockman inspired us to fight!” Roll added. (An embarrassed cough rose from the PET on Meiru’s wrist.) It was the truth. Meiru didn’t deny it. “I… guess that’s what’s made things so awkward. I feel like I oughta be able to talk to you, but…” She shook her head. “Which is ridiculous. I’m probably just as different from your version of me as you are to my version of you. If I even exist at all.”

Bambi's bag immediately got Sophia's attention, and she was confident that Bambi was very intentionally trying to get her attention, with the way she was fussing the zipper and placing the bag right between them. Mind games or not, Sophia was more than happy to be nosy at a stranger's belongings... or, well, Bambi wasn't much of a stranger to her now. Sophia peered over as Bambi rummaged through her bag, spying for anything of interest. A mountain of makeup, a change of clothes, ...who needs that many box cutters at once? Odd. Bambi's digging soon unearthed her selection of Battle Chips, which did grab Sophia's attention due to how... bog-standard the collection was. A cut above weak starter pack fodder, sure, but they were all very straightforward attacking chips, and didn't seem picked with any obvious combos or Program Advances in mind. The only thing more exotic was some area denial and keep-away chips, includin- wait, huh? "...Recov75? Is that even a thing?" Sophia couldn't help exclaim upon spotting that particular chip's label. Didn't recovery chips only exist in increments of ten? MothMan had a hearty chuckle towards Pointe's idea of giving a phishing prog a fishing hat. It did sound quite cute, honestly. "No, but I wish I did now!" MothMan pulled across the window for a closer look at the hat. "That sort of thing we usually do the manual, old-fashioned way." (Maybe a more automatic solution would have helped avoid the cock up with the chatroom BBS, MothMan mused to himself.) Achida. Pointe said the surname with a degree of gravitas, but if there was any significance to the name alone it was lost on MothMan. Probably for the best he didn't recognise it; it's been an uphill battle to have MothMan give Pointe any time of day at all, and him registering the name of some notorious rich family had the potential to reignite his lightly-simmering paranoia. "Tsk, what money isn't dirty?" MothMan replied dismissively. "Not that most rich people will admit that's the case. The world has far too many nepo babies who insist they got where they are though 'hard work' or 'pure talent' instead of being drop-lifted a mountain of Zenny from their family." MothMan mimed out the scare quotes. "Closest thing we have to wealth is living in an oversized McMansion, all because Sophia's family wants to cram everyone under one roof like sardines." Sophia's confusion over the recovery chip came through crystal-clear over the PET's mic, and MothMan's curiosity was piqued just enough to glance back at the camera window... and thanks to Sophia leaning over, the PET was poking out enough to give him a view! At the risk of Pointe taking notice, MothMan paused the feed and zoomed in to the chips, quickly coming to the same conclusions as Sophia. Very basic selection, no real synergies, lopsided balance towards support and recovery, all seemed to corroborate Pointe's claim that Bambi wasn't a NetBattler... An extra-loud DING! reverberated from a nearby pinball table the very moment MothMan realised this was the perfect opportunity! He closed the camera window with a devilish grin as he prepared his address to the outside world. As Bambi began to dig out her pill box, Sophia's PET vibrated followed by MothMan making his presence known. "You know Sophia, maybe we should share some of our own chips and technique!" He chimed in with an overly friendly tone, making sure to be loud enough to not be muffled by the pocket. "After all, what better way to bond than a friendly NetBattle, hmm?" Sophia thought that was an odd interjection at first... but quickly put the dots together. "Man, do I even have good chips on hand right now?" Sophia ruffled her hands through her pockets, she always had some chips on her person, but... "Ugh, if we didn't get dragged out so fast we could have prepared for this..."

Rock didn't know what it even meant to reject whatever Aon was trying to do to her, but she wasn't going to let it stand. She wound up her blades once more, prepared to wordlessly finish off this piece of shit as soon as the rain of Tri-Arrows did its job - and then, a spike of something in the back of her mind made her pause. Like something almost rose out of Aon... but... didn't...? She took one step back; Lan clearly felt something, too, as she flashed a pained scowl. A feeling both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. It was like a toxic aura that had become one with the air around them had wrapped around the two of them for the smallest of moments - and then it was gone. "Wh-what the fuck-" It was stupid of her to let her guard down. In a real fight, the second she spent questioning that feeling could've cost her her advantage - and yet, the fight stopped dead when Aon admitted defeat. Rock couldn't even figure out a proper response for a few seconds, too confused and disoriented from everything else that was going on. "Huh? What?" Lan winced, lowering her head a little bit as her eyelids fluttered. Her eyes were still crimson red, of course, but the rage fueling their fire paused to make way for fear. "H-hey, wait, no, you can't... you can't just..." she blubbered. This wasn't how a battle ended. There wasn't any satisfaction in a forfeit. Were they just going to leave now?! "Th-that's it...? Then... then what's going to happen?" "I think they're just savin' themselves the pain," Rock observed, her coat fluttering as she crossed her arms. "Not sure if I get it. But let that be a lesson for what happens if you fuck with the kid." Lan's breathing was getting heavier. Her surroundings felt... distorted. None of this made any sense. What just happened? Did they accomplish anything at all? O-or... were they just going to make someone... run away again...?!

Of course they had a wall up they had something to hide now. But did they always come off that way? Was it not just the detached professionalism? “I…” There really wasn’t anything else Aon could think to say other than to acquiesce. “Yes…And you’ve been very patient with me so far so I’ve just got to keep…trusting that.” Their gaze fell to Roll fidgeting with the gaudy imitation beverage before she could even mention it. “Yeah…Yeah I think I would appreciate that. One of those…” It certainly wasn’t something they would normally be caught dead with, but they would be remiss to pass on the olive branch at this point. That, and it was something to keep them from running as much of a risk of getting ready to pry their own fingers off “And you’re right. I don’t know much about any of you at all.” They thought back to the vision bursts, how they could do nothing but quietly observe with no context or personal connections to what they were witnessing. “What we saw at the end back there, at the arena…I couldn’t connect to any of it. Ellen’s memory was the only one that was obvious by lack of presence alone.”

An ever present low hum welcomed Reg with a familiarity so loud it was like he had never left. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, slowly making out the ceiling of his living room. It was never truly dark here, it was too dangerous for that. Instead, the ten thousand square feet of building he called home was the safest place to be for miles. At least, that was the joke that people liked to tell. He arose from laying down on the couch, feeling heavier than usual. His first step off led him to the middle of the greenhouse. Under the thick glass roof he could barely make out the stars shining above. The walls of greenery underlit by floor lights offered a small, inaccurate glimpse of what nature was. He knew better, he couldn't stay here hecouldntstayherehecouldntstayhere, no there were things to do and idle hands made for an inefficient life. He stepped outside of the greenhouse, got his orders and got to work. His father he couldn't see his face had given him the job to study diligently and so he did. The words on the page filled his mind but the words themselves danced and morphed every time he glanced. He gave his eyes a break. The monitor next to his desk offered a view of the outside. Black. Sunless night and stars and pure, absolute black. A darkness so raw the mind conjured images just to have something in the blanks. No, he had to focus on his studies his- The books, the tablets, the pens, the tools all gone. He had fallen through the window into the dark and as he spun to get his bearings, all that there was that surrounded him was the night. His EVA suit had already began to feel the chill of the sunless sky, but there was a heading for home, and all Reg had to do was follow.

Cometman couldn't hide his disappointment. His face immediately fell upon hearing that Rockman hadn't recalled that incident. He quickly tried to recover his previous more pleasant expression, he wouldn't wanna be rude or something. "Well that's just it," he grumbled, holding his chin, "Everyone has been calling me a Navi. Ellen, Reg, Eni, even One and Silver. But-" he gently tapped his fist to his lips, "Okay, how do Navi's normally get made and activated? Cause whatever was normal for other Navis probably didn't happen to me. To me, one day I was just. Here. I was apparently just a video game character before all this and then I was just, this? "Is that-" he grasped the air like he was searching for words floating right before him, "Weird? Is it weird that I think that it's weird?" Was there something wrong with me? Those were the words he wanted to say, but couldn't voice them. He knew the words, he knew what they all meant, but to say them aloud was to admit they were real. And on top of it all, he couldn't ask Rockman that.

Enzan remembers those cold lips. Death lips. They'd been blue, contrasted with the harsh red burns across his lover's face. He finds his fingers drifting over his lips, and struggling to recall when the exact moment his desire had begun. Was it when he was a child, and he'd seen into the power infecting his navi? Was it when he'd held Laika's body, knowing it was the divine material keeping him in this world? "Put me down on red," Enzan says, as he pushes his bet towards her. "What do you really want to know?" He asked. Maybe if he told her— Maybe something different would happen this time. Maybe his luck would improve.