A 17-year-old Chinese-looking man sat in the corner of a bar which only served weak alcoholic beverages.
The bartender eyed the young man suspiciously, "Hey, kid! You've been sitting there the past week, not even moving to take a piss, to sleep, or to eat. Your sanity still intact?"
"My sanity no longer matters to me. What, or shall I say who matters the most to me is Wizardmon." the young man looked up to fix the bartender with the darkest of black eyes. They weren't shiners, black was just the eye-color he was born with. His gaze stayed fixed on the bartender, only moving to brush a stray strand of raven-black shoulder-length hair from his face.
"Damnit, kid! Sorry but I don't know what or who the f@$^ a 'wizzerman' is." the bartender shot back, suddenly defensive.
"It's 'Wizardmon'. W-I-Z-A-R-D-M-O-N. Make me spell it again and you'll wish I never even wandered into this hellhole!"
"Watch your f@$^ing mouth, Chang Min." a petite young woman, around the young Chinese man's age stood in the doorway. Her emerald eyes had a piercing, eerie look to them. Her butt-length golden, dirty-blonde hair was tied back in an elegant french-braid.
"Get lost, Leslie." the Chinese man, Chang Min by name glared hard at her.
"Hey, uh kid..." the bartender stuttered. "Is she the one you told me about? The one you hate so much because she reminds you of What's-his-face so damn much?"
"It's Wizardmon, and yes, that's her." Min said quietly.
"Argh! You told someone ELSE about that...that...THING?!" Leslie barked at Min.
Min stood up, knocking the ashtray full of cigarrette butts on the floor by accident in the proccess, the glass ashtray shattering. "I'm leaving before I do something I'll regret."
"Coward!" Leslie called out after Chang Min, the only surviving member of the Dragon Clan which was rather famous for their members' skills in the Martial Arts.
Min snickered at a memory and turned back to face Leslie, "I'd rather be a coward than a sex-crazed woman obsessed with a Vampire's talking crotch." He then turned and dissappeared literally into thin-air.
Leslie flushed a deep red and turned away from the bartender.
The bartender looked at Leslie and raised an old, ragged brow at her. "You people are weird."
Just then, the doors to the tavern opened again to see a figure about three inches over the size of an eight-year-old child. The sun bounced off of and penetrated the person's hair flawlessly, making it seem as though his hair was aflame beneath a very, VERY dark-bluish Wizard-style hat with a white skull at its front. As the doors closed again and the person approached the bar, they blocked the sunlight from his hair, making it the same shade of golden dirty-blonde mane as Leslie's. The person's emerald-green eyes were piercing, strong and cold. But they were also inviting, for a tiny shimmer of compassion was just below the surface for anyone who wished to seek it. The clothes the small man was wearing were yellow, zippers in odd places such as at each knee and elbow were trimmed with red as was the zipper going down his front and across his left breast. His shoes looked to be home-made so to speak with crescent moons on them. The 'gloves' covering his hands were a pretty brown, and in one of these 'gloved' hands, was a staff. Its shaft was of a strong, enchanted wood that would not burn or be subject to harm and fail as the usual mundane wood would have. At the upper-end of the enchanted wooden shaft was a golden symbol. There was sheer determination in his eyes as he took the seat of Min who had just recently left. His mouth was covered by the colar of his cape which flowed a beautiful darkest-blue around him, the inner-lining of it was a tad bit lighter and had symbols stitched into it.
The bartender's jaw dropped. This kid was just as Min had described Wizardmon to look like.
Leslie took a step back, "Whoa! A little too late for Halloween isn't it?" She had always teased Wizardmon in this way and he hated it, but this time no humour came to her face.
"I'm looking for someone." the voice floated melodiously throughout the room.
The bartender snapped out of it, "Uh...what? Oh! Sorry, what can I do for you?" He smiled invitingly at the newcommer and began reaching for a list of the drinks he sold.
A few unidentified civilians looked curiously up at the sound of the short man and the bartender's conversation.
A fat man lumbered in and tapped the short man on the shoulder, "Hey, kid, you're in my fuckin' seat."
"Back off, Frank. Jeez, he's new here for cryin' out loud." Leslie tried at a futile attempt to distract the fat man from the Digimon newcommer who sat at the bar.
"Well? Is anyone going to help me or not?" the short man spoke again.
A tall skinny man slinked up to the short man and blew in his face, or what was visible of it. "This place ain't for kids, now go home before your mommy gets worried about you."
"This place isn't for you to be mocking me due to my size, either." the short man replied.
Damnit Wizardmon! You suicidal idiot! They'll pound the hell out of you! Leslie thought to herself.
The bartender's gaze floated from the short man and to Leslie, this was repeated several times before his attention was finally brought back to the short man.
"I'm looking for someone, his name is Chang Min. Has he been around here?" the short man asked, ignoring the threatening glances from around him.
The bartender dropped a glass and shattered it. "Uh...oh, sorry about that." He then got another glass and served a man his drink. "And, may I please ask who you are?" he was almost too afraid to find out but he took a deep breath to calm himself.
"I am Wizardmon. If you see Chang Min, will you tell him I was looking for him?" the short man replied.
The fat man, Frank by name burst out laughing.
"May I do something for you, Mr. Frank Collins?' Wizardmon said without shifting his gaze in the slightest.
Frank, the fat man, took a step back and hissed into the mon's figurative ear, "How the fuck do you know who I am?!"
"It's hard to not know about everyone here when we are in the same Universe, Mr. Collins." the Wizard stated calmly as if just announcing the time on a boring day. There was no hint of threat or negative emotion in his voice, eyes, or posture at all.
"What the hell kinda person walks around in a Halloween costume in April, little man?" another man, this one was colored and well-built came up and poked Wizardmon harshly on the shoulder.
"I am that kind of person, and it's not a costume. You must have some semblence of a quarrel with me due to my size or some other physical traits, I believe this is only the first time I have seen you; vica versa. I do not share this quarrel with you to my knowledge." Wizardmon replied smoothly, seeming innocent to how some Humans tend to act when intoxicated as these men were.
"What the fuck?!" Frank burst out over the entire tavern. "Check this out people! Such brave words for only an immature kid!"
"Alright, if you're going to fight, don't do it in my bar. I won't tolerate any bloodstains or dead bodies laying around afterwords." the bartender said to everyone, especially to Frank and Wizardmon.
The staff in Wizardmon's hand dissappeared into thin air, "My intention is not to fight, nor do I wish to fight."
"WIMP!" Frank bellowed and continued to laugh at Wizardmon as everyone else in the tavern did the same.
Leslie frowned, "Frank, back off or I will rip you a new asshole!"
Wizardmon looked at Leslie out of the corner of his eye and shook his head at her, signaling to keep out of it.
What the fuck did Min do to you?! Leslie thought to herself while pertaining to Wizardmon.
"Back off, bitch!" Frank went to slap Leslie out the way but his wrist was grabbed.
"Strike her and you'll wish you hadn't." Wizardmon's tone was dead-firm and sharp, his grip on Frank's wrist didn't let up.
"Isn't she a bit old for you, kid?" Frank taunted with a snicker and harshly wrenched his arm from the mon's grip.
"Do you honestly want to know my age?" Wizardmon looked at him. "Three-hundred years is a long time which makes me rather old."
"HAHAHAHAHA!!!!! Three-hundred years old my ASS!" Frank fell over laughing.
The bartender leaned on the bartop and grabbed his chin thoughtfully and did the math in his head with the help of a few numerical figures Min had told him within the past few days.
"Would you wish me to subject to a few CT scans to prove I'm not insane?" the mon asked Frank thoughtfully.
"What the fuck?!" Leslie burst out and positioned herself between Wizardmon and Frank. "Okay, you two, stop it before someone gets hurt!"
Wizardmon shook his head in pity, "My intention from the beginning of my life was to avoid violence but I encounter it every waking moment and in my dreams. Nor was this my intention when I came here, I simply came here to look for someone."
"Well, he left five minutes before you got here." Leslie said quietly.
"Did he mention the Vampire and talking crotch thing again?" Wizardmon looked at Leslie.
Leslie frowned and rolled her eyes, "Fuck yes! Next time he mentions it in public I'll kick his ass."
"You'll have to kick my ass first, you know that right?" came Wizardmon's polite-toned reply.
"Yeah, so?" Leslie shrugged what the mon said off.
"Just reminding you." Wizardmon said innocently. With these words, he dissappeared.
The bartender blinked and rubbed his eyes, "May I please ask what the fuck just happened?"
Frank burst out laughing again.
Leslie gave Frank a confused look, "What? What now?"
"The talking crotch thing." Frank laughed some more.
"Shut your piehole, Frank!" the bartender snapped. He then sat and held his chin in his hand, suddenly lost in thought... It seemed like those two, the kid and the dude, I mean... really cared for eachother and it was as if they'd lost eacnother somehow...
Then, with wide eyes, the bartender suddenly realized that many children across the face of the Earth had been wandering around looking for strange beings with the suffix of "mon" on the names of them. These children who had not only been searching but they were also being searched.
Just then, the television in an upper corner of the tavern came to life.
Leslie sighed, "Oh joy, they're going to make an announcement that they found another minor nutcase?"
"Hey, pipe down will ya?" the bartender said to Leslie then returned his attention to the television.
"We interrupt this program to bring you an urgent story. Just an hour ago, a seventeen-year-old boy was found unconscious on a park bench in New York City's Central Park in the United States. Identification found on the boy confirmed what a few in the area had already expected." The television screen shifted to show an image of the ID card found on the boy as the newswoman continued to speak. "Seventeen-year-old native to Southern China, Chang Min suffered from multiple stab wounds to the stomach and a gunshot wound to the upper arm. Doctors say his chances of survival are very slim. We will return you to your regularly scheduled program and bring you more updates as we recieve them." The television then went silent.
Leslie was ghost-pale, her eyes were saucer-wide pools of shock and fear.
Frank Collens, the overly fat man now sat silent, his face expressionless. The skinny stick of a man was sitting next to him, his eyes were wide, "Aw shit..."
The bartender continued to stare at the television even after its screen went dark. What does all this mean? Will What's-his-face react to this or not? And who will he blow up at?