milliways_bar | (no subject)

"Does he damage the clay when he catches it?" Autor asks as he approaches, his bare feet crunching over the snow.

"A little bit," Yamato says. "Probably. I mean, he's not a labrador."

Garurumon gives them both a slightly guilty look, then opens his maw wide to drop dozens of frozen shards of clay onto the snow.

"... Moderate amounts of damage," Yamato allows.

"I see," Autor says, adjusting his glasses. "It might be more challenging for him if he caught the clay without damaging it."

"It would be useful if he needs to carry someone," Yamato agrees. "Okay, I'm going to set off a few more, try to catch them without damaging them, okay? A little bit of frost is okay."

As he rigs up the clay pigeon throwers, he gives Autor a quick glance, raising an eyebrow. "How've you been doing?"

"There is that," Autor says, watching Garurumon work. The boy folds his arms. "I'm fine. What about you? Any more attacks at home?"

"Yeah, we had an old friend show up to attack. There -- might've been a bit of a falling out in the group over it."

One that Yamato wasn't involved in! Wonders may never cease.

He fires a clay pigeon and Garurumon leaps up, snapping at the clay pigeon a few times before managing to grab it.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Autor says, furrowing his brow. "I hope things settle quickly. Speaking of, have you talked to Taichi about Omegamon yet?"

Edited 2017-01-04 00:54 (UTC)

"I -- The others tried to set up a group outing where we could talk, but it didn't go so well. So. No."

Garurumon drops a clay pigeon onto the ground between them. It's cracked, and the surface is slightly frosted over, but it's in one piece, at least.

"Good job, Garurumon," Autor says, extending his hand for the Digimon to do as he pleases. He turns his head to Yamato. "That's unfortunate. What stopped you?"

Garurumon snuffles around the hand carefully -- and delicately, because the feathers on his head are sharp. His breath is very nearly freezing.

"-- I bottled it. Nishijima was there, and the others were all around, and some new woman called Himekawa came along, and the only time we actually got to be alone we were in a sauna, which is not my preferred place for discussing Omegamon."

Yep, that's totally all it is.

Autor carefully runs a finger across one of Garurumon's feathers. "I see," the boy says, shaking his head. "A sauna is a strange place to have any discussion. But I'm sure you can find a way to be alone with him sometime."

While they look soft, their texture is more like steel, and the edges are razor sharp.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Yamato says wryly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Although he does a pretty good job of avoiding me unless there's other people around."

Beat.

"What've you been up to, anyway?"

Autor's careful enough not to cut himself on Garurumon's feathers. "Not much, honestly," he says, frowning slightly. "Were you here for the elf doll debacle?"

"I think I saw a few around? But, er. Not really," Yamato says. "Why, what happened? Did they come to life and attack the bar or something?"

"No, but there was some nut with a sniper rifle hiding in the trees outside, blowing them to bits," Autor says, adjusting his glasses. "Security arrested him."

"... Why? They were inanimate and infinitely respawning, it's not like shooting them would be, like, challenging or useful."

"I have no earthly idea," Autor says, shaking his head. "Apparently he really didn't like them. He came in the other day with a shotgun, so maybe he's just gun-crazy."

"Doesn't seem like there'd even be much point toting guns here. Half of the patrons are basically impervious to them."

"Not as many as you need might think," Autor says, furrowing his brow. "Most of the patrons here are standard, squishy humans, like you or me. Someone could really do a lot of damage with a gun."

"Really? It seems like almost everyone I meet has superpowers of some kind."

"Huh," Autor says, adjusting his glasses. "Most everyone I've talked to have been normal. Well, as normal as here gets, anyway. Certainly not impervious to guns. Maybe I'm just being paranoid."

"I don't know all that many people here anyway, though, so that might be it," Yamato admits. "But out of them, probably the squishiest I know are -- YT, you, Jim. Taichi, but if Agumon ever came with him here, I'd be less worried about him."

"There's Emcee--he was actually shot recently," Autor says, shaking his head. "Who do you know that is impervious to guns?"

"I think Quentin mentioned him to me, actually. How's he doing?" Yamato says. "And -- well, Gabumon's impervious to bullets. Ysalwen can probably definitely magically shield herself from them, and Seimei probably can as well. Dave has mad time powers that I figure could shield him from bullets, and the trolls from his universe probably aren't bulletproof but do seem to be sturdier than humans -- I wouldn't want to test that. Anakin has bullet dodging reflexes."

He finishes counting them off on his fingers, and frowns. "And that's it, I think."

"He's doing just fine," Autor says, watching Garurumon catch clay pigeons. "He was apparently healed by magic, so there's no sign that he was even shot. Good thing; he almost died. I forgot about Ysalwen. I don't know Dave or Anakin, and you're right about the trolls. Most of the people on Security are normal humans, and there's twelve of them."