damned_institute | Dayshift 49: Bus 2

Morning hit without warning, with the sheer knowledge hitting the Digimon before anything else that today they were going back to Doyletown. Her feet hit the floor and she rotated her right shoulder experimentally. The skin stretched tight, soreness persevering, but it moved fine. She stretched her fingers then curled them into a fist, staring at the tanned skin that was her right arm. If something happened this time... She would be more useful. Her mind replayed the events of last week, and Renamon stilled, considering.

There wasn't much time left to her as the nurse bustled in with an armful of clothes, the same shade as the weeks before. The woman murmured a cheery complaint that it was too cold for skirts and left Renamon to change. The pants were preferable to the past two weeks, though the other item she was left with gave too much to irony. She frowned at it for a minute, then slid it over her head, reflecting that this motion in days or weeks past would have left her shuddering. It meant she was becoming used to this human body, and that was nothing that boded well. She grabbed her notebook before being led to a bus, and slid into a seat halfway down the aisle, pressing against the window. Again, the previous night had been more than short. Was it just her, or was there something more to it?

[for Haseo!]

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"Of course I'm right!" Teisel knew what was what, after all, though it was always nice to have that fact confirmed. "You never know, today could be the big day." He didn't notice how his hair was torturing Sechs, not that he'd have cared if he had. And so, when his instincts told him now would be a good time for a roguish flip of his ponytail, he did so.

Sechs was good company today, even if he was being sort of a wet blanket. "Can I man an airplane? Ha!" He grinned. "You should have seen what I could do with the Gesselschaft, rest her soul." That had been one hell of an airship. Ah well. When he got home, they could rebuild her better than ever, of that he was certain. "An airplane can't be that challenging." True, he'd never actually seen one, and he only had a loose idea of what exactly it was and how it differed from an airship, but how hard could it be, really?

It took a moment for Sechs' last statement to register in Teisel's brain as anything more than gibberish. When it finally did, he was stunned. "Nothing?! What kind of crazy, backwards place do you come from, anyway?" Not even birds? What the hell else was a poor, innocent little bird supposed to do? "Everyone flies back home; it's the only way to get around." He tried again to wrap his mind around the concept of being completely earthbound forever and failed. Stuck on the ground, trapped and unable to just...leave when you wanted to? What kind of life was that? "I've lived most of my life in the air. I mean, I've only been here two weeks and I'm starting to itch! How can you stand it?"

There was a flash of grey in the corner of Sechs' eye. Oh crap. Teisel was whipping his hair towards his face! Sechs moved to dodge the grey mass--

Whack!

"Dammit Teisel!" Sechs growled behind the thick, muffling hair, "Watch where you shove that hair of yours!" Grumbling and cursing, Sechs pushed the pony tail away, only to get some spare hairs flitting back to pester his face. "Don't make me shut the window on it!" Yeah, Sechs could certainly hope this was "the big day"; then he wouldn't have to be shoved into crowded buses with big huge people with even bigger, huger hair anymore!

"The Scrapyard and Tiphares, that's what!" Sechs replied, "The bastards who rule everything don't allow it. You see uh..." He thoughtfully scratched his head. How was he going to explain this...?

"Picture this big floating city that's supposed to be a Utopia, alright? Then underneath it is a factory city called the Scrapyard, which is where Tiphares dumps all their trash." Sechs explained as he held one fist above an open hand to describe the two cities. "Everyone who lives on the ground isn't supposed to go to Tiphares; they're pretty strict about keeping the hierarchy straight. So if someone tries to sneak into Tiphares, whether through the elevator tubes or by flight..." Sechs then made the beheaded gesture past his throat, along with an unpleasant sound to describe the common punishment for such offenders.

"So they don't take any chances, not even with birds." Sechs made a casual shrug, "Someone could make a mechanical bird, stuff their brain in it and then try to fly to Tiphares or something. So yeah, anything that flies gets shot down, usually by a Netman."

Sechs leaned back against the seat and gazed at the scenery blurring past the window. "It must be nice to just fly where ever you want," he remarked before checking his lunch bag to see what lousy baby food he got this time, "Was that Gesselschaft of yours a battle ship too?"

"More like you watch where you shove your face! It was right in my way!" Teisel may have been in a good mood today, but no one insulted the hair. "And you can keep your grubby hands off of it--it just got washed."

He listened to Sechs describe his home with mounting disgust. "What the hell? Where do they get off, locking people out like that? You know what I'd do," he went on, relishing the mental image of that proud city going up in flames, "I'd sic the family on it, see how they like a taste of the ol' Bonne cannons!" Folks should be able to come and go when and wherever they pleased. Anything less wasn't decent.

Starting in on his bagel, Teisel grinned. "It's great! Going to a new place all the time, exploring..." He paused to swallow. The bagel was a little dry, even with the cream cheese. "And when you're out over open ocean, you can just stand on the upper deck and let the wind whip your hair around. It's the best." God, he wanted to go home so badly.

"Hey!" he growled back, wiping off some of the spare hairs clinging to his cheek, "Why would I want to put my face in your hair?! To smell the flowery shampoo you washed it with? Gimme a break...!"

Unearthing yet another muffin from the lunch bag, Sechs groaned to himself and was about to dump the stupid thing back into the bag when he heard his stomach growl even louder. He really didn't want to eat this stuff... After a few sniffs and nibbles, the muffin barely passed the test and the Replica found just enough tolerance to consume it.

Chewing on the muffin, Sechs grinned at Teisel's statement. "Heh heh, I'd like to see ya try!" he chuckled, "Tiphares isn't such a great place as it makes up to be, and blowing it up isn't as easy as it sounds. Lots of people tried to bring it down."

He thoughtfully chewed for a moment, remembering one good example of Tiphares under siege. "There used to be this renegade group called Barjack," he added after gulping down food, "they were lead by a giant samurai robot named Master Den." Chomping off another piece of the muffin, Sechs found himself reminiscing over the powerful centaur-like warrior. "Pretty tough guy, that Den. He was really pissed off about how Tiphares was treating the ground dwellers."

He paused to take another bite out of his breakfast. "He and the Barjacks were pretty close to shooting it down... At least, that was until Ketheres, this city above Tiphares out in orbit, the real ruler of everything... intervened."

And then the AR TUNED agents finished off what was left of Barjack that day. The same series Sechs was a part of...

"Really? That sounds pretty cool!" Sechs replied after swallowing the last bit of his muffin. Grabbing out the juice box, Sechs quietly grumbled to himself, "As long as I don't get any windswept hair in my face!"

He loudly sucked the juice through the straw. "Lots of oceans where you come from, huh?" he asked, "I've never really seen the ocean myself. It's mostly just dry lands and canyons around the Scrapyard. You might run into the occasional farmland and ruins of a city that used to be around, but otherwise it's not much to look at."

"And what's wrong with the way my hair smells, huh?" The kid was cruising for trouble at this rate. Teisel was bound and determined not to have this day ruined, and if he had to beat a certain someone to a pulp to succeed then he would.

His ire was somewhat calmed when Sechs continued on about that nifty mid-air city. Those Barjacks sounded like his kind of people. It sounded like they weren't around anymore, though, if Sechs' glum tone meant anything. What a shame. "In orbit, eh? We just found something kinda like that back home." What a weird coincidence. He wondered if Tron had managed to get her rocket working yet. That space station was probably worth exploring, even if it was infested with Rock Caskett...

"It is," Teisel said fondly. "It's the only way to live. I never could understand the islanders that just stay home their whole lives. Boring."

To someone from Terra, hearing a question about oceans was a little bizarre. Sechs may as well have asked if they had lots of air. "Lots of oceans? I guess you could say that. Whole planet's pretty much covered by it." He still just couldn't wrap his head around the idea of dry land as far as the eye could see, but he was starting to learn not of argue about it. "Sounds weird. We have ruins all over the place, too. Mostly underground or underwater." As different as their respective homes seemed, there did appear to be some similarities, too.

Dayshift 49: Bus 2

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