Open Threads

Blaire was in her element, elbow propped on the bar while she kept up a conversation with the bartender she was clearly familiar with. Once her drink was in hand, she turned, to see that strangely clad fellow from earlier. What was up with that anyways? One of those regency romance fantasy balls that were popular about now? Renaissance faire perhaps? She did recall there being one held this weekend. Maybe he came straight from the venue. Regardless of whatever his deal was, he was clearly looking uncomfortable while doing his best to appear otherwise. It wouldn’t hurt to try and help him break the ice. Though, her idea of being helpful kind of just, spilled out and came off more pointed than anything. “You just come from the renn faire?” +++ At least she didn’t make them wait. The timing was almost perfect, actually. Aon scowled at the swish of her tail paired with her smirk. Again they found themselves nearly reeling at the dark aura just diffusing off of her. They were really regretting their choice of atmosphere now. The corner of their lip curled slightly. Of course they knew what this was about, but the confirmation of it being about that stupid vault was bait they couldn’t refuse. “Haha oh I see. That coward couldn’t reach out to me again himself? That’s cute.” Pushing themselves off of the wall they stood at a cocky little slant, one hand on hip. “Well, I’ll tell you just as I’ve told him. I don’t have it anymore. You’re wasting everyone’s time.”

Lan always felt awkward around Triese's dad, if only because he was just so straightforwardly helpful that it felt weird. Why wasn't he asking questions about all this crap they were doing...? Why wasn't he trying to poke and prod for secret information she didn't want to share?! Maybe it was because Triese told him everything already... She found the exterior of the casino pretty intimidating, if only because they had to have some ridiculous level of confidence to plaster that many gaudy neon lights with outlines of overjoyed humans on a building in the middle of a city. It was like it was screaming to her, "Come here! We do stuff that shouldn't be legal, but it somehow is!" "Now, I have no intention of spending any money... You don't want to be put on these peoples' lists," Shen began to lecture as he parked the car. There was thankfully a secluded enough parking spot for Lan and Kaita to not have to waltz right in. Instead, the plan would be to wait for others to enter, and follow in after them to blend in with the crowd. "But these kinds of places will be on the lookout for loiterers. The faster you get into the network, the better." Lan pouted as she climbed out of the car, still fretting over the dress and the bag that Mary had lent her. She could only fit so many chips in there... "Can't we just get Flammole to do, um, the thing he does?" she mumbled, not quite remembering the details since it had been so long. "To find wherever the vault is..." "I'd certainly like to, but let me put it this way," Shen began. "I can easily explain away two children if they get caught in the network. If I get caught in the network, it won't be quite as simple." Lan immediately pouted. "I'd love not to foist it on you, Lan, but it sounds as if your friend has some experience, anyhow." "You're a weirdo," Rock chimed in. "Can't believe you'd just trust the Net Savior thing right out of the gate. I think the kid's mom would kill her." Much to both Lan and Rock's surprise, Shen was a bit flummoxed by the comment. "...How unflattering," he muttered under his breath, looking past the two kids into the distance. "Shall we get going, then? I can have my Navi pass along some signature masks, while we wait."

Meiru looked around the alleyway she’d run down, even toward the rooftops, in an attempt to find the person she thought she’d run after. “Where are you?” she called. “Please come out! It’s not safe here!” R-Blues pushed his way through the office space to the window below. He saw Desertman, the Lion Heads, and the tiny mop of hair in front of the mountainous Navi that the Lion Heads were aimed for; and leapt straight down, landing hard in front of Lan. “Dream Aura!” He’d barely made it in time; sand went flying both inside and out of the Dream Aura as the Lion Heads, too close to completely block, were torn apart instead. R-Blues moved to block as much of it as he could from the human he’d rescued. “We need to get you out of here,” R-Blues said, his eyes fixed on Desertman. It was only then that he turned around and, while reaching a hand out to pick her up, realized, “Netto-chan?!” …Was that a knife in her hand? If she seriously thought she was going to be backing him up with that, she had another think coming…

Sophia couldn't return Bambi's big smile. Not just because the aching or her embarrassment hadn't worn off, but because it felt so artificially saccharine. Feel-good stickers were something you gave to children. (Wasn't there also a game in this arcade where you got chased by a killer smiley face upon taking too long? For some reason that seemed to stick out in Sophia's mind) Of course Bambi would raise a stink about the bottle. As if the kids here weren't knocking about trash or ticket clippings everywhere. "Fine, you can have it back." Sophia was clearly feeling better, as her response dripped with sardonicism while she dropped the stickers right above the exact same spot she dropped the bottle. Nothing to smile about in my life, she jeered to herself. While Bambi was preoccupied with bin duty, Sophia kept moving and took her place at one of the netbattle machines. Oddly, she seemed to be the only person stationed at the netbattle machines; the rest remained in a fruitless attract mode, despite being set to free play. Not that Sophia thought much of said observation as she jacked MothMan into the machine. If Bambi was expecting any kind of fancy jack-in catch-phrase or pose, Sophia's mundane point 'n' press was sure to disappoint. After the jack-in process completed, MothMan found himself in what appeared to be a spectator's area: a large, rectangular border overlooking and surrounding the actual netbattling arena. Judging by the sets of benches outlining the edge of the platform and the skybox of stick-figure audience members, the comp seemed to be a very abstract and downscaled representation of a stadium. MothMan didn't spend much time taking in his surroundings, and instead flew towards the conspicuous control panel straight ahead. Even with Bambi cleaning up after Sophia, he was expecting Pointe to catch up with him quickly (and almost certainly in a surprise burst of confetti); he didn't want to waste any time he had to configure the match settings in his favour before Pointe showed up, just in case they raised an objection while he was going through the options. (Perhaps MothMan was trying to be a bit too fast though, as he had to dig in his heels while landing to narrowly avoid smacking his whole body into the panel.) First order of business: picking an arena well-suited to his abilities. MothMan hastily flicked his finger across the row of stage thumbnails in search anything ideal for hi- aha! MothMan stopped scrolling with a decisive finger press. As the thumbnail lit up, each individual tile making up the arena began to flip over one-by-one, clicking back into place with different tiles on the underside and gradually revealing MothMan's choice of stage: A large square of grass with a thick border of regular panels, with rocks laid out in a 5-point dice shape. Perfect for both his abilities and getting a good HeatCross shot in! The sound of another Navi jacking in filled the air just as MothMan gave the arena a satisfied look.

Rei tilted his head at Heatmans response. There was that lack of curiosity again. He seemed painfully content with acceptings things as they were, or perhaps Navis never concerned themselves with things like desires at all. "So we have fundamentally different approaches to such matters", he sighed, "I find it quite foolish to believe your current strength will always be enough. That isn't how you get around in this world, you know" He raised his hand to rest his head against it. He wasn't very interested in teaming up with this one for any longer than necessary, Heatmans theory starting to feel more and more plausible just by how disagreeable he was. But who knows when this mess would be corrected... he still had to get to the root of this somehow. So far, his best guess was that it'd be related to that Chatroom somehow. "Oh, worry not, it's just zennies you're after today", Rei explained. His eyes widened with a sudden realization - this would be an excellent chance to test if Heatman knew of the chatroom well. "I have no access to Dark Chips from around here regardless. Only my provider from another instance can aquire them for me - that's what makes them worth working for" +++ "My operators target is my target", Celestra agreed. She kept waiting for further instructions. When nothing happened, and instead Lan told her to keep at it, she was glad to oblige. She fought better alone anyways, now too confident the fight would be easier like this. In the confusion of the moment, she had lost her focus, and Larkmans attack was noticed at the last second. With a jump back, she managed to avoid most of the attack, but not without some damage. Celestra quickly realized those wings would be an issue. Larkman was fast, and he had more range. Him being airborne ruled out most of her strategies, unless she got him down somehow... so she opted for the meteor attack. Summoned by her howl, the ceiling opened to rain meteors upon her foe. Would Larkman just dodge that as well?

All fell silent once more. The gesturing of shadows, the whispers, not even they wanted to accompany Reg. He was all alone. No one was here. No one was ever here. The moon was not a place for community; it was a rock floating in the void of space, revolving around the Earth but never coming close enough. So too were its inhabitants doomed to spectate — naught could survive here but isolation. Despite the lack of life, something moved. Nothing alive — it was the ground itself. Particles of dust crawled up Reg’s body, slowly at first, growing bolder as they went. They threatened to consume him in an everlasting embrace, to pull him downward. There he would become one with the moon, in its beauty and its solitude.

Lan could only blubber in response to Aon's questioning. Well, seeing her beaten and defeated, obviously. Rendering her unable to do anything anymore. That's what all these adults wanted, and they were stupid for not being self-aware enough to realize that- ...Well, Aon had disappeared before she could vocalize any of those thoughts. Maybe it was for the better. Rock sighed and shrugged, logging herself out before Lan could. As she appeared back on her operator's homescreen, the latter slumped up against the edge of the building they were hiding behind. "I don't get it either, kid," she admitted solemnly. "Like it or not, I think we're just gonna have to keep putting up with 'em." It took a while for Lan to respond, her expression sinking into misery. "...I don't want to do that," she eventually mumbled sadly. "Why do we have to pair up with these people... for the Alpha stuff...? Why not Rockman-san, or..." "Think of it this way, kid," Rock quickly interrupted. "It's probably part of Alpha's plan to make this so scuffed, right? So... we can't let it win." That seemed to immediately calm Lan down, though Rock immediately felt bad about the excuse; she didn't feel good about making it sound like they were throwing Ellen and Meiru under the bus. "A-and... it's probably better for us if we learn to work with anyone, right? Helps, uh, prepare us for the future." The attempt to save face didn't sit all that well with Lan, but she accepted it nonetheless. "I... guess," she mumbled, rolling across the wall of the building in frustration. "But it's... stupid. I just want to..." She went silent again, unsure of what she wanted to say. What did she want? She wanted to be strong, but people kept rejecting her just for that. She didn't want to isolate everyone... she didn't want to be alone again. If she kept trying to be stronger, would her friends leave her, too...? She didn't... she didn't want that, but she needed to be strong, she needed to be with Rock, she needed to do better so she could... ...She laid up against the brick wall, curling herself up as she gave her PET a tender glance. A little tear rolled down her face.

It wasn’t something they would normally go for, but it wasn’t nearly as gaudy as the other drink Roll had, so it would certainly suffice. As soon as it was in their hands they immediately went about pushing the straw around to sate their fidgeting. Aon couldn’t even pretend to know the kind of feelings that came with such a reunion personally, though it was easy enough to feign; at least they thought. “Despite whatever there may have been prior– that is a good memory overall, is it not?” When the conversation came back around to their memory though, it hung them up– though of course, they should have been prepared for that. They couldn’t help but let their thoughts escape them for a moment, furrowing their brows under the visor. How Serpentine could have picked anything as mundane as their boss being overbearing with them, over emphasizing how new they were. That was the point of them after all wasn’t it?…The control (specimen?). “What it means to me? Well…It’s more what it means to Ms. Blaire, but I suppose it’s why I’ve stuck around in the chatroom as long as I have.” It came out on the fly. It was true but bullshit at the same time, a convenient answer to take away from that crippling reminder of their lack of significant experiences CometMan was so quick to clock. “I’m sure it’s obvious, you and Ellen being familiar with her. Access to the chatroom falling into my lap made things a lot easier. It was only a matter of time before my suspicions were proven correct.”

Mayl couldn't help but jump when that distorted voice screamed through the warehouse. Neither she nor Roll fully caught what the Navi was saying, but it certainly seemed as if their cover had unintentionally been blown. (Did that voice sound familiar...? No, it was too hoarse.) The person who jumped around the corner didn't look the part of someone who would be snooping around a warehouse, but Mayl supposed that she didn't, either. She quickly composed herself and pointed her PET toward the stranger, her accusatory body language far more composed than her opponent's. "I could ask the same thing to you," she began, narrowing her eyes. "A 'Dark Chip meetup'? What a strange thing to bring up." ...Whatever a 'Dark Chip' was. It sounded familiar, and similar to some things she was aware of, but something with that suspicious of a name couldn't slip under her radar. Meanwhile, Roll, from the skewed view she had, noticed the odd symbol on the stranger's jacket. Why did that, of all things, register as familiar in a situation like this? She must be losing her mind. "Regardless, I have plenty of reason to be here. I want an explanation for why you were hiding here before I even arrived," Mayl continued, staring daggers into the stranger's soul.

Meiru blinked down at all the photographs in amazement. Another life sat there in front of her. “She went into academia? Wow,” she said, genuinely awed. In a world where Netto had never gone anywhere, where she had nothing to prove and nothing to give others as a Netbattler, she was capable of something like this? “That’s such a competitive field—she must be really talented.” Thinking of Mayl’s long hours spent mastering all aspects of her work on her own, her own time training to be able to take Netto’s place protecting Densan City alongside Enzan, Meiru could easily imagine that in a world where she dedicated that time to music theory and technique instead, she would find the potential to go far. It was just so strange to think about, even as Netto asked for more information about the Meiru in front of him. Sad, even, this feeling of looking through a door that had closed. But she had closed it with a purpose, and for a reason. “I guess we used to be called Officials, in the olden days? But I’m a Net Savior,” she explained to Netto. “I always followed you around on your missions, whether I should’ve or not. So when you disappeared, I guess it felt the most natural to me to keep going. Otherwise… I would’ve always wondered if I was doing all I could, y’know?” She smiled. “To be honest, you remind me a lot of the Netto who lives in my world, too, when he was younger.” Thinking about it, she couldn’t help but fondly giggle, “Even now, sometimes. You always sound so happy when you're talking about your friends.”

"Triese, my dear, it was wonderful to meet you!" Dr. Goodall cheered brightly, "You take care of yourself and your Navi, okay? And if you run into any more trouble with Noise feel free to drop by any time and we'll take a look." "There's a maintenance room off to the side here that you can use to. Time travel," Aaron suggested with a notable pause. "I think that'll work!" Geo chirped, nodding and smiling to Triese, "Let's get you home!" They shuffled off into a room to the side, spacious enough for at least the two of them along with the bundles of wires and racks of equipment that lined the walls. Aaron lingered at the entrance, peering in warily. "Curious about their time travel, Aaron?" Dr. Goodall teased good-naturedly. He jumped and scrambled away, apologizing shortly afterwards. Geo chuckled, turned back to Triese, and had her show him how to open a portal through his chatroom app. Shortly after, a portal opened with an obscuring swirl of light preventing anyone from seeing the other side. He emphasized that Triese should message him when she got home safely, just in case something went wrong. Everyone said their final goodbyes and Triese stepped through the portal. It closed behind her, disappearing in an instant and leaving nothing left. For a quiet couple of seconds they all waited for something to break, but it soon became apparent that things actually turned out alright. The whole room let out a collective sigh of relief once the anxiety passed. "Good morning everyone," a slow, drowsy voice came from one of Aaron's pockets, "What did I miss?" Aaron groaned in resignation, "A lot, Ursa. You missed a lot." That got a chuckle out of everyone, then Omega-Xis leaned down to ask, "Well? Do you still want to stay out of chatroom shenanigans, Geo?" Geo pondered this, then met his partner's gaze and concluded, "I think there's a lot we're going to have to learn if we want to help anyone in there, but I think it'd be good to do so. To help the past and our future too." "Now we're talking!!" Omega-Xis roared and pulled Geo into a side hug, "The interdimensional time fugitives are on the case!!" Geo immediately protested, claiming loudly that they were not in fact 'fugitives' by any sense of the word while the rest of WAZA listened curiously to the pair of heroes making a ruckus. One thing was clear from all of this -- that this was just the beginning of many strange things to come.

Great. It was weird. Well, he already knew this and it wasn't comforting to hear it coming from the mouth of an expert. But now he at least had confirmation. But his creation... Flashes of moments from a past he was not there for peppered his vision. Hardly any detail, barely perceptible, data broken and frayed at the edges. Perceived with the little data wrapped up in them instead of actually seen with his eyes. It was something he'd gotten used to. It wasn't obtrusive now and at this point had given up on trying to understand it. And in any case, it made him feel closer to Ellen, bizarrely enough. Cometman's face journeyed through furrowed then pensive then distant looks, landing right back onto his usual nonplussed expression. "Nope, like I said, memories just start at one point," he shrugged, "Figures that would be another thing that's weird about me. You know..." he trailed off, remembering his first encounter with Dragonman, "Do all Navis just have a lot of this knowledge built in?? Like, I tried playing chess, right? Apparently other Navis just have the rules baked into them fresh out of the box, but I sure didn't! I had to look that up! I don't know why I'm complaining about this right now, it's just," he smirked, "life's crazy isn't it?" He resigned himself to that conclusion. No one would have these answers for him. He was weird and that was just how things were he supposed.

Netto immediately took the affection; unlike Rockman, or Enzan, or Laika, he had not yet learned to be afraid of a kind hand. He wanted to make excuses for Cain. Cain was never openly cruel to him- maybe once, in a flash of anger, but not much more than that. Cain was dry, and Netto was always trying to get him to laugh at a joke or even just smile. Cain had some shitty past, and Netto felt empathetic to that. It was world shattering, to think he'd made the wrong call. "Dr. Cain - he's not like-" Netto winced, sitting up out of Pen's hold to voice an apology to Rockman. But Rockman cut him off, and spoke instead. "Cain is nothing like Regal. He's just a- worm." Netto sniffed, falling back into Pen's arms. "I think Dad mentioned something like, he's probably gonna get his license stripped too. It's bad enough...to him." Netto had voiced how much he thought this was overkill. He'd even said those words no one wanted to admit- why is Cain getting worse treatment than Regal? Sure, he'd had all his licensure stripped years ago- but they just shipped him off to a country that didn't care about his crimes. Cain was going to get punished in the only way that mattered to him; his work. But Yuuichiro had just given him a withered look, and he knew that they all wished more had been done about Regal. And more should have been done. More could have been done, if the Officials cared about this kind of crime. All they wanted to do was cover up their mistake, that leaving Regal to work in Scilabs was just a ticking time bomb, that all of their pain had been avoidable if they had just-- Netto sucked in a breath, realizing for a brief second he'd stopped breathing at all. He released his closed fists. A realization dawned on him and he stuttered out, "O-Oh. I- I can't go back to work. L-Like, ever."

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.