View Full Version : It's My Digital World
October 30th, 2009, 02:49 PM
Shoot you guys Giratina has two stories now this is bad what are we going to do-
Why, I'm going to work one one when I'm not working on the other, of course. Anyway. Welcome to It's My Digital World, abbreviated by myself as DigiWorld or simply IMDW. There is to be a censorship warning, as one character will swear on occasion. As for those who really are worried about Delta Species and IMDW both flopping...
...well, hope and dream, right? Oh well. Let there be fic!
i T ' S | M Y | D i G i T A L | W O R L D
One isolated genius. One witty child. One grumpy musclebuilder. One mediator. And another isolated genius. How could these such different personalities merge and form a team destined to change the world - for better or worse?
P R O L O G U E: what happens yesterday
A couple of years back, on a Thursday night, some electronics dork was experimenting.
Now, he wasn’t doing anything that would make a mad scientist proud; all the guy was doing was poking around with some of the… internal features of his small collection of old laptop computers. His goal was to construct a functional computer out of the collected parts of the others, and he had been following the dream for at least a month now, but to be honest the tinkerer didn’t think he was going to get that far.
Of course, he also didn’t think he would be spawning a little miniature digital universe as a result of his ‘experimenting’, but guess what happened anyway?
It happened, as a matter of fact, as soon as the ‘innovative’ mechanic had booted up his patched-together computer for the first time. The machine actually only worked for about three seconds before fizzling out again, but this was enough for him (and besides, he was dead tired). Immensely pleased with himself, the experimenter had walked away, figuring that it wasn’t likely to boot up properly again and deciding he would place the patch computer on display somewhere tomorrow.
However, just one boot from an alien machine was enough for a new Digital World to be spawned, as a patchwork similar to its origin.
Naturally, along with the new Digital World there spawned a host of Digimon who resided within it, and a truly bizarre topography for the solidified data to reside in. Take, for example, the huge castle that constantly loomed over the horizon of the new Digital World (known by many Digimon as the ‘Digital Patch’).
The large stone structure was a labyrinth in itself, and nobody questioned the fact of its existence past “It’s a totally impenetrable fortress that doesn’t serve any purpose”. Of course, everything in a computer serves a purpose. The same rule held for the Digital Patch, and naturally the general public was wrong (as they so often are). The castle did hold a purpose, and that purpose was to guard things. Among the more valuable of the things was a little piece of work stowed somewhere in the labyrinthine building with a world-quaking power.
But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Right now, there was only one object hidden in that castle that we care about right now. Actually, it’s not so much an object at all…
For, you see, the castle also protected the Digital Patch’s self-proclaimed king.
October 31st, 2009, 06:09 AM
Nice work! This prologue really sets the tone and setting for the rest of the story. I'll have to keep my eye on this one....
October 31st, 2009, 07:21 AM
CHAPTER ONE: divine judgment
|Is… is that all the lessons for today?|
Claws scrabbled against the cobblestones as a small, purple Digimon slunk away from its previous position at the center of a huge hall, surrounded by tall ivory pillars on all sides. A long, puffy tail flicked behind the strange creature – it was mammalian in appearance, but dinosaur-like in stance. Embedded upon the creature’s forehead was a blood-red gem, positioned in a triangular pattern and returning the light it caught. The long claws attached to its white-furred arms skimmed the ground with every step, and large eyes were bored on the path ahead. He knew this chamber like the back of his paw by now.
|I did not say you were free to go, Dorumon,| reminded a rather serious, distinctively female voice that didn’t seem to have an owner.
|Oh…| mumbled the creature, turning back around to face the bright shaft of light spilling down from a perfectly round hole in the center of the ceiling. |I’m very sorry about that. Really. I just assumed that since it was all you were going to say, and since that’s usually what happens…|
|Usually,| said the voice, losing some of its edge, |that would be exactly right. But today I have something to tell you, Dorumon.|
He turned back around, and dipped his head in respect to his tutor, wherever she was. |Please enlighten me, teacher.|
|To the point, as usual,| replied the voice, this time almost laughing through the sound. |Fine, Dorumon. I will not sugar-coat any of it. Is that alright with you?|
|I wouldn’t have it any other way… if you complied, I mean,| stammered Dorumon.
|Naturally, naturally…| said the voice, fading off into what seemed to be her own thoughts (if she really had any) before getting back to the point of the holdup. |Dorumon, you will be receiving no more lessons from me. You have reaped all of the knowledge you require from the Digital Web, the winding home of Yggdrasil, the one true origin and god.|
|All that I require?| asked Dorumon, immensely confused by this statement. |But what could possibly be unnecessary with gaining knowledge and information?|
The voice laughed at his statement, even though Dorumon did not find it amusing in the least. |The truth is, Dorumon, that’s the problem. You can’t stay here all your life. It isn’t right for a Digimon as bright as yourself to live here, isolated for all of your existence. There are some lessons you may never be able to learn from me; those lessons may only be found in the outside world.|
|But…| stuttered Dorumon. |But… teacher, this is the world.|
The voice was stunned into silence. Did Dorumon honestly believe there was nothing beyond the walls of the castle? |Dorumon,| she said slowly. |I’m afraid you’re missing a vital piece of information. What do you think is beyond the castle walls?|
|Well, the End of the World, like you said,| replied Dorumon, now quite confused.
|No, no, I’m afraid you’ve misunderstood me this entire time. The End of the World is not for a long, long distance. Outside is a great, immense land filled with almost every creature and landscape you can conjure in your mind. I have given you all of the information you could find just sitting in a room with the vast labyrinth of the Internet stretched before you. If you wish to continue your education, as I’m sure you do, there is only one way to retrieve more of what you seek. That way is out.|
It was Dorumon’s turn to mentally freeze as he processed this information. |So…| he said after much hesitation and a whole lot of blinking, |…is… is that all? For today?|
|For forever, I’m afraid,| said the voice. |But yes, that is all. You may leave.|
Dorumon took a few short steps, turned on his pad, and ran as fast as his muscled legs could carry him. Not that he wanted to get away from his teacher, but merely because the Digimon suddenly felt an incredibly strong urge to simply return to what he thought of as his private quarters and mull over this new revelation for a while. Though the small thing couldn’t fathom how he had missed any remarks about there being a larger world outside by his teacher… or had she merely assumed he knew more than he truly did? And how did he learn all those things about the geography of some place? Earth was truly a different planet – that much had been established – and since the teacher hadn’t said otherwise who wasn’t to say that the castle wasn’t a small piece of something in the vast nothingness of the internet?
‘The mind boggles,’ thought Dorumon grimly.
“Well, I do hope you’re satisfied in your work,” said a droning voice, whose owner was sitting in an observation deck far above. “None of us seem to be.”
Minervamon gulped, being the only one standing below on the ground. All of the others leered at her from their own opera-house platforms. “Apollomon, you see, I can explain,” she said weakly. Even though her words were meek and thin, the Mega Digimon surprised even herself. Not many of the other Digimon in the room – much less the rest of the Digital World – dared to try to swerve the opinions of The Boss.
There were twelve Digimon situated in various positions. These positions were being held inside a room, which was inside a structure, which towered up above the rest of the Digital Patch like a couple of skyscrapers stretched to double their height and placed atop one another. This towering monument to how much gravity stunk was known as Olympus, and naturally those situated inside were known as the ‘Olympus Twelve’ or simply ‘Olympians’. Easily the most popular was Apollomon, memorable mostly for his near-merciless insistence for perfection and the big ball of fire on his head.
“I’m sure you can prattle about how the Exile took over your mind and made you speak to him that way for days on end, Minervamon,” remarked Apollomon bitterly, “but I seem to recall that you were under orders to not speak of the outside world at all?”
Minervamon shuffled her feet and turned away, accidentally shaking the enormous sword she toted in the process. A few other Digimon shied away from the pointy hunk of Chrome-Digizoid unhappily.
“Um, yes, Apollomon, I seem to recall you saying that…” Minervamon stuttered. Even the childish Olympian could see she was in deep water.
She was wearing what seemed to be a golden snake skin wrapped around her upper body, with the head settled on top of her own and the body coiling around her chest before dangling down the back like a limp tail. Her hair was long and blue, with two blue pieces dangling down the front and lengthier pigtail braids on either side. She wore gold gauntlets on either arm, and had a cream-colored toga secured around her legs. She also wore pink boots with black soles and (of course) her spiked shield and Big Fancy Sword, Olympia. Like most of the other Olympians, her body was distinctly human – but unlike the others, who had fully-matured and majestic bodies, hers was eternally doomed to bear the adorable mischievousness of a ten-year-old girl.
As such, Minervamon retained most of the skills of a ten-year-old girl – including the ability to pout adorably. She did this in another attack against Apollomon’s willpower, but her raid failed and the leader of the Olympus Twelve continued battering her down.
“Of course,” he continued in a dangerously pitying voice, “I’m sure you were thinking that Dorumon could face the world all by his lonesome…” Minervamon looked up, nodding and smiling. The dry scales on her snake’s tail rattled softly.
“…Which is why I believe that it would be acceptable for you to accompany him on any trek he must make. You being the Olympian of Intellect, Minervamon, it shouldn’t be too taxing on your immense intelligence and should serve as something of a stimulating challenge.”
Minervamon’s face fell.
“Yes!” boomed Marsmon from his observation deck above the Stage, where Minervamon was being hammered down. He was always eager to watch someone get cut down to size by Apollomon, as long as that someone wasn’t himself. “I agree, great Apollomon! This… this Rookie should be sent down to the Patch to mingle with her student! I’m sure he would be quite honored, and it would definitely be a great learning experience for the both of them, hmm hmm hmm…”
Apollomon turned his head towards Marsmon, sending the absurdly oversized mass of yellow hair attached to it flying in the opposite direction. “You seem to be rather eager to go, Marsmon,” he said flatly.
It was Marsmon’s turn to gulp nervously.
“Since you seem to be quite convinced that this ‘rookie’ would be unable to follow Dorumon and educate him correctly,” the Sun Olympian continued, “why don’t you accompany them? I’m sure the traveling party would find your acquaintance quite pleasant, don’t you agree?” He turned his head and oversized hair to the rest of the group.
Marsmon noticed them begin to nod, and made a slit-throat motion to his neck while shaking it. He intended it to mean ‘don’t do that’, but the others apparently interpreted his nonverbal communication as ‘save my hide or be deleted’.
This made them nod harder. Apollomon stood up and smiled at Marsmon evilly. “I believe you would like to join miss Minervamon down on the Stage?” he asked. Marsmon whimpered like a small animal and hopped over his banister, flying directly into the portal that had a few seconds previously materialized under Minervamon’s feet.
The last thing they heard was a conversation held between the two punished ones: “You owe me big-time for this, Rookie.”
And Minervamon’s reply: “You got it… Rookie.”
November 15th, 2009, 12:23 PM
CHAPTER TWO: absurdly spacious secret corridors
Dorumon heard a strange noise.
It was truthfully barely audible, the slightest of mumbles on the wind as something stepped on the ground once. The purple Digimon, who had stopped running to gather his thoughts, clammed up immediately and began straining his ears to hear anything else. Sue enough, the Digimon was rewarded with another soft thump, this one slightly easier to hear than the last.
…Or was he just imagining that? ‘Well,’ thought Dorumon, ‘there’s no way I could compare –’ And then there was the sound again. It was louder still.
Yes, by now there was no question. Some Digimon was moving around in the Castle, and whoever it was, it was moving around closer to Dorumon than the Digimon truthfully cared for. He stood still as a rock, looking around silently for the intruder but not daring to call out to him. As it turned out, he didn’t really need to.
“You,” mumbled a voice from the shadows. “You there.”
Dorumon froze up. Someone was speaking to him. And that was all mostly fine and good, except… Dorumon didn’t have a clue what the enigma in the dark was saying. It was in a different language, one he didn’t understand. It sounded flowery and calm one second and grating the next.
|Who’s there?| he whispered, not sounding particularly sure of himself.
There was a silence as, hiding down one of the many side passages of Dorumon’s present location, there stood a humanoid Digimon with widened eyes. Brushing the brim of his hat and making sure the cloak was in proper alignment, the blue-clad Digimon slipped out from his hiding place and approached Dorumon with calculated calmness. The other Digimon jumped in surprise, eyes widened.
“What’s wrong?” asked the Digimon. “It’s as if you’ve never seen a Digimon before.”
Dorumon was quite scared by now. There was a creepy creature he didn’t know the name of, who had entered his castle unknown and unidentified and was now speaking to him in a foreign language. |Who are you? Who are you?|
His maybe-stalker was about to speak, before realizing that Dorumon wasn’t exactly speaking in Japanese like most normal Digimon. He paused and smiled under the cloak he was wearing and spoke in a more appropriate tongue.
|Hello, young Dorumon,| he said in English. Dorumon’s eyes widened at the prospect that this staff-wielding, glove-wearing… thing was speaking English. |I know you must be very afraid of me speaking English all of a sudden when you were so used to me talking in Japanese. I’m sorry; I had performed a simple Code modification to learn English, since that was the usual language that Digimon around this Digital World tend to use. Never did I think I would need to break out my Japanese skills again… I was wrong, now wasn’t I?|
Despite him speaking in a comprehensible language, Dorumon had no idea what he was talking about.
|I don’t know,| Dorumon said quite intelligently.
The Digimon laughed, the various charms hanging from his gloves and clothing jingling with a light clinking sound. |Oh, of course you wouldn’t know all about what I speak of, that’s understandable… but really. Have you truly never learned about Code?|
|Um, no. Was… was I supposed to?| Dorumon got the feeling that his first interaction with a visible Digimon wasn’t going well.
|It’s pretty deep research,| noted the Digimon, |so I’m not sure if whoever you learned things from bothered to teach you. But I suppose they didn’t actually bother to, since you don’t know what it is?|
|Um… I think.|
The Digimon’s eyes closed happily, and he smiled under the collar of his face-hiding cloak. |Oh? Stop acting so scared, I’m truly not going to hurt you. Code, as a matter of fact, is the strings of symbols that compose everything that the Digital Worlds were, are, and will be. Even me and you.| He leaned on his snowflake-tipped staff, letting wisps of hair fall in his face. |Yes, it composes everything you’ve ever seen. And, believe it or not, you can actually take this Code – the makings of the universe – and bend and twist it to your every whim… well, almost your every whim, because a council somewhere in the Digital Patch will control how much you can and can’t change. In any case, there are certain Digimon and machines – the machines are usually referred to as ‘Digivices’ – who can use this power and manipulate the Codes, but most can’t.|
Dorumon’s head whirled with all of the new information as his new companion posed a question. |Too much information?|
Dorumon nodded his head, and his companion laughed. |Well, basically… Code is the foundation of everything, and most of it can be modified by certain Digimon or Digivices. Is that easier to understand?|
After gathering his thoughts, the purple Digimon nodded and said, |Yes, I think so. So… you’ve told me so much, but you’re missing something.| The other creature’s face looked confused as he said this, and Dorumon soon remarked in a flat voice: |What’s your name?|
He laughed and nodded. |Oh, I’m sorry! Excuse me. My name is Sorcermon. Now… do you mind terribly if I modified your Code makeup slightly?|
Dorumon blinked. |Why?|
|Because,| explained Sorcermon with the patience of someone who’s very close to being a martyr, |You would be hard pressed to find someone other than me who speaks English.| He seemed to sense the ‘Why?’ coming up in Dorumon’s throat, and replied accordingly. |Most Digimon speak Japanese nowadays, even though we’re technically supposed to be speaking English. Not many people still remember how to talk in English. I need to do the same thing to your Code that I did to mine – a simple Code fragment addition that makes you perfectly capable of speaking and understanding fluent Japanese. May I?|
Dorumon nodded his head. If Sorcermon had done it on himself, it must not be too bad.
|Wonderful,| said Sorcermon, |now sit still.|
Dorumon’s consciousness began to quiver and faded to nothingness.
“Well?” asked Sorcermon. “Do you understand me?”
Dorumon wearily opened one eye. He was lying on the floor of the same corridor he had been earlier, with Sorcermon standing over him. The Digimon made a few soft moaning noises and then tried to speak.
|What happened?| he asked.
Sorcermon’s eyebrows furrowed. “Do you understand me? Try to answer in Japanese.”
Dorumon hesitated for a few seconds before replying: “Yes… Yes, I think I can understand you now.” He watched Sorcermon smile with his eyes, which told him that he had been doing the right thing. The blue-clad Digimon offered out a hand, which Dorumon clutched in his paw and used to steady himself. “Thank you.”
Sorcermon nodded. “Okay, so the Code modification went well. And now it’s time to get you out of this place!”
Dorumon’s expression turned to one of surprise. “What? Why?”
“Didn’t Mi- eh, that voice tell you that you needed to get out of here? I know a way, so we’ve got to go down it.” He turned around, beckoning Dorumon to follow – which he did, albeit greatly confused.
Eventually, after what seemed like hours of Dorumon winding around the castle in places he never really knew had existed (under the guidance of Sorcermon, of course) the duo came to what appeared to be a very dark, chilly tunnel constructed of stones.
“Well,” said Sorcermon, moving his head to look at Dorumon, “admittedly, there were shorter ways out than this…”
“So why didn’t we take them?” asked Dorumon, who wasn’t truly used to so much running around in such a short period of time.
“Because there’s something here I think you need to see,” said Sorcermon distantly, turning back to face forward and continuing to walk. “Here, it should be just down at the end of this hallway and… here.” He turned to his left and walked into darkness – while the turn they needed to make to continue along the path was farther to the right!
Dorumon slack-jawed. ‘He just walked into a brick wall!’ thought the Digimon, slowly approaching the supposed brick wall with ears twitching for the slightest noise. Upon closer inspection it wasn’t a wall at all, but a side passage well-cloaked in shadow. He could hear the stomping of Sorcermon’s boots from inside. Quickly Dorumon darted into the passage and skidded to a halt beside Sorcermon, who was clutching his snowflake staff.
It was emitting a blue light from the tip, which the wizard Digimon used to observe a pattern on the wall.
“This, my friend,” said Sorcermon proudly as he took a few steps backward to throw light onto the whole symbol, “is Code in its purest form.”
The symbol on the wall was a black box with a six-pronged stick star in the center, with two shoots coming off from each point.
“But what does it mean?”
Sorcermon chuckled, almost as if Dorumon’s amazed question confused him. “Most Code doesn’t truly do anything important, unless it’s stuck together with other pieces of Coding. This, though, is different… nobody knows what this means. Do you know why?”
“It’s different because this particular Code symbol is found in only one place. That place is…” Sorcermon paused for dramatic effect. “…the Source Code, a truly enormous compilation of totally original Coding that has scripted everything that the Digital Patch was, is, and will be. It’s one of those Code compilations that can’t be modified, for obvious reasons.”
Dorumon thought for a second, and then spoke in an uncharacteristic bout of musing. “I’d like to use the Source Code…”
Sorcermon blinked, but not from surprise – as a matter of fact, both of them soon closed their eyes. The entire room was soon filled with a glowing yellow light, a light of which definitely didn’t come from Sorcermon’s staff. The light formed into a dancing circle before the duo’s closed eyelids before concentrating itself into an arrow-shaft of light and flying… directly into Dorumon’s forehead.
Neither of them heard Dorumon scream as, slowly, the jewel in his forehead began to crack.
“Champion? But why?”
“Hey, some Digivolution lines go back farther than others. Suck it up, Rookie.” A Leomon crossed his chiseled arms and frowned with disdain at a small sea-green dragon sitting on the grassy ground and pouting. It had two red wings similar to a Seadramon’s but much smaller, and a two-pointed set of horns of the same color. Its jaw, stomach, and claws were all white. The Dracomon certainly didn’t look happy.
“Well, hey,” said Leomon. “At least you’re a Rookie who can hold their own. I mean, imagine being a Burgermon. Now how would you like that?” He nudged the Dracomon softly with one foot.
Dracomon swatted his kick away. “Um… I guess so…”
“Yeah, see? I’m awesome!”
“I wish I was Minervamon again so I could dice you into really tiny pieces!” snapped Dracomon.
Their petty argument was cut off by a booming voice that seemed to be coming from the heavens itself. “Marsmon! Minervamon! I sent you to do something and I expect it done!”
Dracomon rolled her eyes. “I see Apollomon has learned to use his indoor voice…” she mumbled.
Leomon grabbed Dracomon by the chest and picked her up back to her feet. “You heard the honcho,” he noted smugly. “Get going!” And he set off towards the castle, Dracomon having to run to catch up with his long strides.
November 27th, 2009, 04:29 PM
I know what you guys must be thinking. ‘Eh? No new chapter?’ Yeah. I know, and I’ve been considering shutting down IMDW.
This won’t be like Rock Megaphone, where it’s going to make a comeback once some changes have been made and my life is less crazy. The desire to write this is just… not there. There was no planned plot whatsoever past ‘Okay, this Digimon is going to oppose these Digimon and therefore these Digimon too because they’re affiliated with the other guys’, and after trying very hard to work something out I can’t bring it out any farther than that. The entire point of the story has been changed for me, and I’m at a standstill: I don’t like the way it’s going, but I really don’t know how to or want to go back to the old way because I didn’t know what was going to happen to the story past the prologue.
Yes, I’m the type of person who can’t stand writing a story if I don’t know where it’s going. IMDW was thought up on a whim, and developed on more whims, and what I’m left with is a wispy shell of a story I don’t know what to do with. I desperately hope I’ve learned my lesson after considering cutting two stories because of this.
I realize I must seem like I did no thinking through of the whole thing. I didn’t.
But I know you guys are really enjoying IMDW, even if you aren’t making it remarkably vocal. So once again I’d like to ask your opinions.
Do you think I should continue It’s My Digital World?