I don't own digimon.

Chapter 6

In the valley of my own head

Madame Von Strauss couldn't believe her luck at the moment.

Not only had she managed to collect a new piece for the collection, the voices had subsided for the first time in quite a while. A win-win if such a thing could truly exist in the purest form. Heck, even the people who gathered on these streets had better things to do. It was as if the stars had aligned and things would finally change. Or not. She didn't really consider herself that much of a religious person. Sure, she made her donation to the church when that time came around and was more than willing to listen to the choir. Even if it sounded like absolute garbage nine times out of ten. Possibly, it was a way to draw into suckers to give more money in the hopes of singing lessons. Never had any effect on her. Always the same amount - never more, never less. Pays to be predictable in that regard (pun not intended).

"Just a little further." the thief thought, turning the corner as fast as her little legs could carry a halfling of her stature. Except said direction had her heading right towards a wall. So she runs head-on towards said barrier. Instead of cartoonishly flattening like a pancake or worse, breaking every bone in her body, the thief ran right on through and landed in a pile of cushions on what looks to be their last days. Rips and tears crossed about all of them, a quilt of styles and shapes. I guess that was an illusion. Fooled me at least, a high mark for the person who designed it. When they're not lobbying schools to make themselves a separate class once more from all the other schools of magic, those crazy buggers are pushing their craft to the limit. One of them showed a dragon in the dining hall that I swear to you could easily pass for the real thing. Even among a large crowd of them on their way to a bard festival. Especially if said bard is playing something dragonsong. The only caveat is that they can only enter said concert without touching another dragon. Kind of the only drawback (outside of most of illusions needing concentration). While conjurers and necromancers can mostly touch their summon and vice-versa, illusions sadly don't work that way. Not without other spells doing the hard work.

Back with our thief, she's currently getting up from the cushions and making her way further into this strange building. Darkness seems to cover everything, making any difference of direction beyond the starting point almost meaningless. That doesn't stop Madame one bit. A couple turns later, she came upon what looks to be living quarters of some description. Sure, there's shelves for priceless artifacts and stands for various disguises. But all of it feels hollow. Like a gift meant in passing rather than one of love. Cold and heartless, I hope we don't spend much time here.

"That should be enough for now." she muttered, placing the meteorite on the shelf. Then it's a short walk over to a bed. Not a really aesthetically-pleasing one. Straps seem to come off from the posts and are those spikes just sticking out? They look like they've been recently used, blood and other liquids that I don't dare mention splattered. Whatever is happening here, none of this is good. But is Madame the net result or the side effects of such treatments?

What follows, is them pulling at their hair. Wig, maybe? That's quite an odd thing to do to so-

My sentence unfinished, the hair comes out in one huge pull. Bloody needles of some kind hang from the locks of hair, dripping stolen red tears. I need a minute.

Minute now blissfully past puking, our attention returns back to Madame. She currently has a different wig, one that's a lot more boyish. This one also has those stupid needles.

"No, you can't go back to being that person. You're her. Now and forever." they announce and fling the 'wig' towards the shelves. While the clump of hair and needles doesn't really hit anything of value (thankfully?), something within the room changes.

'Is there someone totally there? Hello~'

Madame's eyes dance about, searching for the source of this newfound voice. Unlike those that haunt them, whip is now out in full. At least she's refraining from hitting anything at the moment. Which is always a plus.

"Show yourself!"

But no figure appears, almost silently mocking the thief in that moment. Blending into the shadows and waiting till the time to strike was their method of choice. How dare someone go out of their way to copy them? This was blasphemy.

So Madame picks up the old wig and places it down on their head. The grip held upon her weapon tightens as anger invades this sanctum. Care is taken with each whip strike, never quite reaching the shelves but coming dangerously close instead. If one didn't know better, they would assume that this... person was a marauder. Not a refined member of society.

Eventually, the fury subsides and our thief lets their whip fall to their side. Picking up the wig they had just thrown, their gaze focused in on it. Hair on their head or hair in their hands, the choice had already been made prior to everything that had gone down for them.

"I can't let her win."

Sitting back down on the bed, their gaze flicks about the area one more time. Darkvision be damned, a glint of something pierced right through the dark. Instinctively, they make a beeline towards this strange object. The shine grows clearer with each step, calling out to the thief.

'Take me, Madame.' it announced to the ears of one, shine shaking slightly. Madame wanted to respond back, to tell this treasure that she was on her way. Part of them wanted to pump the brakes on this dash, maybe take a second to think this all through. That particular part was sadly overruled for the moment.

'Uh… are you alright? Like… That's not the thought of someone with like, a whole head to work with.' the voice announced, just catching Madame within their minuscule cone of vision. The thief barely towers over the ovaloid prison holding them in. 'I'm like… a wishing egg. Tap me and tell me what your wish is. I might be able to totally grant it. Maybe"

Madame stared at the egg for a couple seconds. On one hand, a free wish sounded kind of heavenly. Sharing it within all their parts, trying to come together on one wish though? An argument in futility if one had ever seen it. No, they needed to lead into this somehow. How?

"I want to be me." they mutter and place a hand on the egg. Then they pull it back right after. Too late, the egg has already begun to glow with light. Madame looked away, catching a glance of her recent prize. On closer inspection, it would appear that she had managed to grab a fake instead of the actual rock. A whip swing follows, coming quite close to the actual egg. "Sorry about that."

A curtsy followed. Reluctant at best, frustrated at worst.

"Apology like, accepted, dear." the egg announced and gave way to a small mole. Windswept body on full display, the face looked more fitting on a mouse than that of the creature before her. "Though, I like have no wish for you. Outside of the best of luck in regards to figuring out who this 'me' person is."

Madame's gaze fell to the floor. One more curtsy followed. As gestures go, this one made them look rusty. Not the intention that the thief was going for.

"It's complicated." they muttered, whip back at the ready. Less for herself, more for this strange creature that was now intruding in her sanctum. "Now, what makes you think you're so special to invade the sacred place of Madame Von Strauss."

The strange mole thing looked at the halfling, confusion on their face. In between the couple hours of sleep and the ride down here last night, everything must seem like a weird trip so far. It can only get more bizarre from here.

"Could you like, maybe clue me in what the heck you're supposed to be, grandma?" the mole muttered and found a heel in their butt. Lighten up, please? No one likes a sourpuss. "Like, what was that for? I was totally asking an honest question here."

Another kick. Lot harder this time. Don't think her message is really coming through. Possibly, a different format and/or message in this case.

"Do not assume one's age." Madame muttered as she picked the mole up. "Also, what is with your way of speaking? That is refined, I mean unrefined for someone like you to speak the way that you are to me?"

The mole rolled her eyes at the thief. Took everything in Madame's power to not dropkick this strange creature into a wall and whip it to death. That too would be very out of character for them. Even if such an act would absolutely be satisfying to an extent. Giving such feelings weight would be their death sentence.

"You like totally haven't answered my question, grams." the mole continued, getting what sounded like a groan from their partner. "I like can't do anything for you if you like, don't tell me who you are or something."

Madame sighed. Essentially, this whole conversation had been one big circle they had taken. For what? Absolutely nothing. That's what. Well, not quite. Sh- no they had now a general idea of what sort of creature was potentially capable. Now, it was a matter of getting them to a place where she could work her magic.

"I take things and… redistribute them around to keep the economy going."

Their companion's eyes lit up. Kind of like diamonds. Made her kind of happy. Made them less than so. That wasn't her problem. More of theirs if you push it.

"In my off time, I act as a refined lady. Much like my mother fo-"

The mole placed a paw on Madame's chest. A waving motion follows. I guess turnabout is fair play here.

"Like, is this woman still like alive? Let me totally give her like, a whopping to her tush." the mole shouted, shaking both paws towards the dark ceiling. Two sighs from Madame were her answer. Doesn't bode well for the mole.

"Yes and no." Madame muttered. "She's dead, but I will be her. Soon. The deeds been done and my say matters no more."

Jumping out of her hands, the mole delivered a punch to the gut.

"Like, with that sort of attitude you would be." the mole countered, only to remember something. "Silly me! I like forgot to introduce myself! I'm Kollmon!"

She does a little twirl, catching a glare from her partner. Someone isn't a fan of her little show. But what fan of anything really are they?

"We're partners now. Like, you need to treat me better and stuff." Kollmon continued and went in for a poke. Didn't really hurt, but did look to be on the annoying side of things. "You totally need me, I like need you."

While I doubt Madame actually felt anything, they did sort of see the point of this. Not that said point was really any good to begin with.

The muttering of some phrase under their breath follows. In an instant, their appearance look of a thief on the prowl disappears, replaced by a refined lady of sorts. The same lady that was brazen enough to steal fake space rocks in broad daylight. At least wait for night time and then do the deed. Or have a proper distraction of sorts.

Nonetheless, her partner takes their appearance in. At first, they don't seem so thrilled about all the frills. Let alone the jewels and ribbon in the hair.

"You clean up, like real nice." Kollmon remarked, finding herself back in their partner's arms once more. "But I don't like, see you in here either."

The words rolled out of the mole's mouth and time slowed, the creature bracing itself for sudden impact. But when no such drop came, her attention shifted back towards the thief. Time still stubbornly stuck, their hands are on their hair. A tug follows, but only the jewels fall out in the process.

"How's that?" Madame inquired, taking a deep breath as the flow of time returned to its natural state. A paw up is her answer. They accept it. For better or worse. Personally, it's an improvement. Now, we just need to get rid of the ribbon and then maybe get them a haircut. Or a new wig.

"A total start." Kollmon explained, gaze jumping to the far end of the room. A low mumble followed. "Like, there's a bunch of annoying grunts like coming our way."

The whip came back out, swaying about by their side at the moment. Especially when they charged over to the cushions.

"Are you sure that this is where the last piece of the meteorite went?" a voice announced, taking no time to lower it. After all, it would be quite rude to openly reveal one's plan with some sort of alternative in mine.

"Yes. Doesn't explain the wall though. Just head on through. I'll wait here, just in case things do go south."

The sound of someone running through followed. Thud, followed by swears of some kind. I don't recognize those words they said. Oh well. Not my problem at the moment. Hopefully.

Nonetheless, Madame made their approach. Slowly, not too raise too much suspicion. Well, as long you pretended that Kollmon wasn't there.

"There you are!" the grunt announced and watched the duo approach. A deep breath follows. "Sorry about this. Go out of my way not to hit a lady."

Madame just rolls their eyes, thief outfit back on. Hair tied back this time. Nice. Does look like it'll fall apart at any moment. A start.

"I'm sorry about this." Madame began, only to gaze towards the ground. "Not that a person such as me can call themselves a lady. Let alone a girl."

I'll take your word for it. Nonetheless, the grunt pulled his rod out and let it cackle. Doesn't look too excited about any of this. Not that I blame them after their speech.

"Like, just push against your totally brand new necklace and shout, infuse!" Kollmon explained and jumped out of Madame's arm.

"Infuse!" they announced, a seafoam green outline appearing around them. "Gale!"

A gust came across their body, messing with the hair mostly. The element is mostly focused on the whip itself. Quite handy.

"Guess that means I need to give it all I got." the grunt remarked and took a swing. While the weapon did connect, their opponent was already in the process of pulling their whip back. The crack that followed brings with it a small gust of wind that puts some distance between them. Not that this stops the grunt from running back. "Sorry about this."

The grunt goes in for another swing, only to stop mid-swing. Throwing the rod to his other hand, he goes for a low blow. Well, a lower blow than normal for a halfling.

"You little…" Madame muttered, electricity coursing through her body at the moment. It hurt like hell and the thief crumpled to the floor. Did give them a wonderful view of Kollmon at the moment, who had a gray outline around them at the moment.

"Infuse!" the mole digimon announced and made a beeline for the grunt. "Shade!"

Shade Claw!

A swipe follows, with Kollmon managing to make contact with the opponent. But when the grunt turned to take a strike, they are able to easily retalli-

Or not, since that's just a copy of her. Wait. Then where's the real Kollmon then? Don't tell me.

"Surprise!"

Appearing behind the grunt, an attempt at backstabbing occurs. Thankfully, our thief here has just recovered and able to show this amateur how it's done. A bit on the vicious side, though.

"I'm sorry. Loose lips sink ships." Madame explained, dragging the body off to the side. "I'll have someone close to me take this off our hands."

Kollmon nodded, watching Madame head over to the entrance. They motion the mole to follow, switching back to their lady guise.

"I'm like totally ready to go." she explained and the duo headed through.

"Princess!"

Notes:

A bit of a harder chapter, but fun to write all the same. Especially with Madame's pronouns. Don't think this will be the last time it'll come up.

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Next Time: That's our team. At least for the moment.