"I think I just got a pimple!" Awww, the great insightful look into
Miyako's head. The many wonders, twists and thoughts of an artist. And
yet, still good for a laugh.
Just not today, the comment would have fit in with the usual whining
and bitching, just not topday. Everybody had been strangely quiet as
they matched through the blue-ish purple woodlands of the Digital
world. For some strange reason, they'd been walking up a hill--which,
before they started tracking up, could see the top in no great
distance--for the past hour.
Iori looked up at the other and gave her a blank look. "Pimples don't
just appear, they grow over night." His soft matter-o-fact voice
bubbled onto their ears as the ones in the front of the group glanced
over their shoulders.
Kari giggled from behind them at the stupidity of the conversation she
was overhearing. "You two! Who cares about pimples at our age?"
"I do! How can I look my best if I have a pimple the size of a witches
wart on my nose? Who would save the boys from the horror?!" Miyako
swooned and wobbled dramaicly.
Daisuke looked over his shoulder again, feeling almost sick at the
crocodile tears Miyako produced with ease. He rolled his eyes and
looked down at Veemon with a look of long suffering. He swung on a
fake cheery smile and turned around. "Why would the boys even notice
one more wart being added to your collection?"
THUNK! Never underestimate the power of a female shoe. The power of a
female shoe being thrown by a mad female. Always lands a hard blow,
guaranteed with a money back offer.
Daisuke wobbled back a few steps, completely unnoticable to anyone
really, and rubbed his cheek. That smarted.
"JERK!" Miyako gave the outraged roar, threatening to sling the next
shoe in her oh-so-stylish pair.
Daisuke turned back around. "Its good to be known for something." He
mubbled under his breath before moving ahead once again.
It was going to be one of *those* days. One of those long days.
He didn't even look back to see if anyone other then Veemon was
following him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A sneaker flew towards the ceiling as Daisuke flopped down onto his
bed. Chibimon had curled up on the pillow and was sleeping peacefully
now. He folded his arms under his head and closed his eyes, replaying
the days events. Nothing worth remembering. Small victory, extremely
small dent in what they still had to do.
He yawned and felt his whole body relax. It'd been a looong day and it
now had a mind of its own.
Tomorrow was his last thought before his mind went blank in the dream
world.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This was the challenge? Hadn't he learned this part of the work years
ago? On his own? Why did everyone else seem confused about the work?
Ken glared at the teacher's back. The monotone was getting on his
nerves and the work was getting more and more boring by the second.
The fact Ken could actually *teach* this stuff was one of the facts he
chewwed on with annoyance.
I probably could teach these morrons better then that bastard they
call a 'teacher'. He growled out in his head.
It was bad enough he would be getting people asking for his help on
this later. Being a boy genius had its downs sometimes. He was smart
enough though to think up a good excuse not to help.
He had all this free time after all.
He was going to look over his current plans for the Digital world. His
plans for the Digidestinied. His plans for his upcoming party. It was
going to rock those goodie-goodies in their badly designed shoes!
~~~~owari for prologue~~~~
Miyako's head. The many wonders, twists and thoughts of an artist. And
yet, still good for a laugh.
Just not today, the comment would have fit in with the usual whining
and bitching, just not topday. Everybody had been strangely quiet as
they matched through the blue-ish purple woodlands of the Digital
world. For some strange reason, they'd been walking up a hill--which,
before they started tracking up, could see the top in no great
distance--for the past hour.
Iori looked up at the other and gave her a blank look. "Pimples don't
just appear, they grow over night." His soft matter-o-fact voice
bubbled onto their ears as the ones in the front of the group glanced
over their shoulders.
Kari giggled from behind them at the stupidity of the conversation she
was overhearing. "You two! Who cares about pimples at our age?"
"I do! How can I look my best if I have a pimple the size of a witches
wart on my nose? Who would save the boys from the horror?!" Miyako
swooned and wobbled dramaicly.
Daisuke looked over his shoulder again, feeling almost sick at the
crocodile tears Miyako produced with ease. He rolled his eyes and
looked down at Veemon with a look of long suffering. He swung on a
fake cheery smile and turned around. "Why would the boys even notice
one more wart being added to your collection?"
THUNK! Never underestimate the power of a female shoe. The power of a
female shoe being thrown by a mad female. Always lands a hard blow,
guaranteed with a money back offer.
Daisuke wobbled back a few steps, completely unnoticable to anyone
really, and rubbed his cheek. That smarted.
"JERK!" Miyako gave the outraged roar, threatening to sling the next
shoe in her oh-so-stylish pair.
Daisuke turned back around. "Its good to be known for something." He
mubbled under his breath before moving ahead once again.
It was going to be one of *those* days. One of those long days.
He didn't even look back to see if anyone other then Veemon was
following him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A sneaker flew towards the ceiling as Daisuke flopped down onto his
bed. Chibimon had curled up on the pillow and was sleeping peacefully
now. He folded his arms under his head and closed his eyes, replaying
the days events. Nothing worth remembering. Small victory, extremely
small dent in what they still had to do.
He yawned and felt his whole body relax. It'd been a looong day and it
now had a mind of its own.
Tomorrow was his last thought before his mind went blank in the dream
world.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~@~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This was the challenge? Hadn't he learned this part of the work years
ago? On his own? Why did everyone else seem confused about the work?
Ken glared at the teacher's back. The monotone was getting on his
nerves and the work was getting more and more boring by the second.
The fact Ken could actually *teach* this stuff was one of the facts he
chewwed on with annoyance.
I probably could teach these morrons better then that bastard they
call a 'teacher'. He growled out in his head.
It was bad enough he would be getting people asking for his help on
this later. Being a boy genius had its downs sometimes. He was smart
enough though to think up a good excuse not to help.
He had all this free time after all.
He was going to look over his current plans for the Digital world. His
plans for the Digidestinied. His plans for his upcoming party. It was
going to rock those goodie-goodies in their badly designed shoes!
~~~~owari for prologue~~~~
