It is estimated that over 5 billion species have gone extinct throughout Earth's history. In the year 21XX, Humanity came to join that number. The chain of events leading up to this exodus has long since been forgotten, but a silver lining remained: Mankind would cease to exist on Earth, yet avoided total eradication by shunting itself into a hidden sanctuary known as the Digital World.

Your dying race discovered the sprawling infrastructure of this virtual ark right as they reached the event horizon of global biosphere collapse. Myriad wars had already broken out over the remaining resources, cutting down substantial portions of the population and resulting in the fall of numerous states. When news broke of this alternate world's discovery, nations looked up from their bloody squabbles, sick of fighting over scraps like dogs, and listened well and hard. Then came the final cooperative effort humanity would undertake: A project to move the minds of every living soul into the network, where trailblazers were working tirelessly to establish a new frontier for mankind. One without borders, without limits, without the contrivances of a material world that was dying thanks to their actions. This effort was a resounding success.

And now, God knows how many years later, you're sick of it. You want out.

The pilgrimage into the Digital World is a known fact to every human. Everything else, however, is lost to time. What exactly made the world so bad that it was necessary to flee into cyberspace? Just how long humanity has been in here? What were these ancient nations who doomed the Earth like? These questions linger at the fringes of your consciousness eternally.

For sixteen long years, you've lived in City 87-O. Like all of your peers, you never met your parents. Your life has been one long string of lessons and routines from white-faced servitor programs, who were never even fussed to pull you back onto the rails when you deigned to wander off into the alleyways. So long as you didn't violate hard-coded regulations of the city, that is.

87O is a cold, dreary landscape of cybernetic urban sprawl, with an eternally darkened skyline that gives way to vibrant streams of junk data. One night, for what feels like the thousandth time, you stand atop your favorite rooftop and stare up at the massive tower that makes up the city's core. You clench your fists as you watch the tiny figures circle the pinnacle, patrolling it eternally while dozens of spotlights fall over their diminutive forms.

You want to leave. You want out of this place. You want it so badly that it burns your very soul to think about. You can trace this internal crisis to your discovery of a contraband book.app, that you rescued from security instances. Your curious hands snatched it up years ago, and from there, Pandora's box was opened. It showed you sprawling vistas of green, white caps of snow, deserts of vibrant orange sand, and seas of azure blue. They were sceneries beautifully rendered in full resolution, a far cry from the choppy polygons of the simulation decks used to entertain and educate. You found yourself falling in love immediately, as you stashed it deep in your personal repository, and then lamented that you would never see such a sight for as long as you lived in this accursed city. Subsequent nights saw you poring over the atlas over and over, reading about the world that humanity had left behind, and the beautiful creatures that had once inhabited it. The things to do, the festivals held, the bonds between people across the planet born from constant communication.

This is no way to exist, you've learnt. Your soul craves something more than the paltry blocks of public spaces, or the false greenery put together by holodecks, or the nutrient slop bricks dispensed freely from machines that line every street. This is a life where you're missing nothing physical. You have never gone hungry once in your life, and neither has anyone you've known. You have never been missing clothes, nor toys, nor games. But something in your human heart screams and cries, telling you that it's not real, that it's incomplete, that you have never once experienced the joy a person ought to. You live life like a program, indiscernible from the NPCs who service every soul and raise every child.

>What is your name?

Hoping to make this a one shot and wrap up by the end of the thread! Updates will be as close to daily as my schedule allows for. I don't have any name, gender, or appearance in mind for the protag, just specific personality options, so feel free to come up with those along with the write-in for name choice.

>>6216910
Marnie, a stoic but well-mannered girl

>>6216908
>Otto
>Sort of an asshole

>>6216935
+1 to Marnie.

>>6216908
Cool quest premise, QM!

>>6216935
>+1 for Marnie
Also, can we pick her style as being punk but with an ancient greek twist?

>>6217076
Got a reference image for what you have in mind?

>>6217104
I gave it a go with AI.

>>6216935
Supporting, though in terms of looks how are we gonna make the protag goggles fit? Classic on the head or using them as a hair accessory like the female MC in Cyber Sleuth.

>>6217162
I'd say over a hat like the Dusk girl but I'd like to see her partner Digimon first so you can design her accordingly.
She also hasn't been approved yet.

>>6216908
Kino thread idea, raging against an impossibility

>>6217162
use them as a bra

>>6216935
>>6217010
>>6217076
>>6217161
>>6217162
Locking in Marnie!

Marnie. Randomly generated. No last name. Ancestry ceased to matter ages ago. There isn't a point, when new children are just loaded into the city once they reach the age where they can play with other kids. You've spoken to some adults who have theories, based on the fact that you're all digitalised, but nobody has a clear idea of how human reproduction works anymore.

Being in this damn city is not completely devoid of intrigue, you suppose. There are mysteries to solve regarding the state of your existence. Plenty of knowledge-seekers have gone missing in their quest to find out more about the Digital World, and humanity's place in it, rather than just living the peaceful, boring lives that the NPCs are willing to generate for them.

And apart from your fellow humans, there is one redeeming factor about living life in the net: The Digital Monsters. The servitors answer few questions about them, but what little they divulge is enough for you to get a good idea. These are the original inhabitants of the world. The natives that were displaced when humanity carved out its partitions. They're hardly a common sight in a landscape populated by man-made algorithms, but for those who know where to look, they're always accessible. Plenty of them are also used in official roles by the system that binds you and your kind. As living programs, they couldn't be any further from the swarms of chrome homunculi that some sick joker has put in charge of raising children.

Every encounter you've had with them has led you to believe that their lives are just as rich as those of humans. And with their ability to move in and out of cyberspace, they enjoy a degree of freedom that tinges your soul green with envy. That feeling is twisted further, into something more malicious, as you zoom in on the figures that flit about the tower using your telescope.

There. The guardian Digimon. The most dangerous entity in 87O.

BRIGADRAMON- MEGA- CYBORG- VIRUS
WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!

The scope falls from your hand, digitizing into packets of information that are quickly sucked back into your body. You feel a shudder run down your spine, and the cold night air feels burning hot against the chill that permeates your body. It picked up on your scan, even from this far away. That Digimon is the key to your escape. As the one guarding The Tower and the Vortex, it's the ultimate deterrent against rogue humans and Digimon seeking to dive into the portal that leads outside this city.

So for you to be free, it needs to be deleted.

Objective: Kill Brigadramon

The problem is, you don't know how you'll ever pull off such a thing. The servitors don't take kindly to violence. Scraps are common among disenfranchised youths, and you consider yourself one of them. Punching one another means almost nothing in digital space, and even the most brutal battles don't result in much more than sore spots and bruises on your skin-textures. Trying to go further than that, however, leads to people getting Podded.

You've seen it happen only once before. A gang member, sick of the city in the same way you've always been, attempted to tear apart a hab-partition using some sort of malware program. Servitors and Digimon alike fell on him in an instant, restraining him and suspending his life functions. Before your eyes, they generated a capsule around him and sealed him beneath its frosted glass surface, before shipping him upwards into The Tower for an unknown fate. If they catch wind of you actually trying to escape, that's how you'll end up.

And so, all that's left you to do is fantasize about the day you'll take that thing down and ascend the tower to freedom. You want to know what's out there. You want to know about the world humanity left behind, you want more than this boring, dull, barely-living city, where you want for nothing it can give you, and need everything it can't.

With a deep sigh of dissatisfaction, you step off the lip of the roof and free-fall, feeling the simulated gravity do its work. Your loose jacket flutters apart, and you casually reach over your shoulder to fasten the diagonal zipper. The laurels atop your jet black hair are lost to the wind, doomed to despawn once the system loses interest in rendering their bytes. A new set will appear soon enough, so you pay it no mind.

Rather than letting yourself be dashed against the asphalt in the throes of your despair, you activate your illicit f1oat.app and spread your arms, feeling the air cushion you gently. The red timer ticks down, warning you about how much time you have left before the app terminates. It's more than enough to enjoy a relaxed flight, that takes you over the heads of a group of NPC servitors walking their children. If they see you, they'll have questions about your sources, and that just won't do. You quickly barrel-roll into an alleyway and slide down its grimy walls, plastered with neon graffiti of a grotesque smile.

Your feet hit the ground hard, causing the textures and wireframe to fizzle, but imparting no feeling onto you. As you start heading for the main street, eager to return home, you hear a sudden commotion.

"USER [PRIVACY REDACTION], YOU ARE IN VIOLATION OF THE DIGITAL LIFEFORM CONSERVATION ACT. SURRENDER AT ONCE TO DISCIPLINARY ACTION OR-"

CLANG! A fizzling sound fills the air, and you smell something sharp and chemical.

"USER [PRIVACY REDACTION], YOU ARE UNDER ARREST FOR THE DESTRUCTION OF A CITY 87-O SERVITOR INSTANCE."

Peeking out from behind a dumpster, you catch sight of a figure rounding the corner. He flings something small onto a nearby roof as his feet skid on the rough road, before righting himself and breaking into a full sprint. As he comes closer, your eyes meet for a brief moment. The young man is holding a gun in his hand, held low and with visual artifacts clustered around the muzzle. The servitors emerge moments after he passes you.

His illegal packet-gun fires several more times in quick succession, tearing into the AI programs with bits of malicious code. They crackle and turn red as their textures are disrupted, with even the wireframe beneath bending apart. His rebellion is short-lived, however. A syringe darts out from the extended arm of a hovering robot, jabbing into his hitbox and pausing him in his tracks. You watch as his face freezes into a defiant expression, one arm still outstretched with his finger on the trigger. The servitors crowd around him, generating a pod to store their attacker in. It doesn't take long, and soon enough he's on his way to the tower for whatever fate awaits him. His weapon is seized by the bots, ensuring that there's no useful data left behind for you to salvage.

What a thing to witness. You stay in the dumpster for a while, waiting for the bots to make their exit. You haven't done anything wrong, but you just don't want the trouble of becoming a witness to this unusual occurence. The AIs are stern about keeping the peace outwardly, even if they're completely oblivious to the undercurrent of dissatisfaction spreading throughout the populace.

A quick refresh of your avatar gets rid of the generic smell and dirt. Not like the dumpster is really used for trash anyway. You still feel the psychological need to shower after immersing yourself in it, so you begin making the trek home. Before you get far, a beep stirs you from your idle thoughts, and already high-strung from the day's events, you whirl around and raise your fists.

Nothing jumps out at you, but the beeping continues unabated. You look up at the roof where it's coming from, and recall the desperate look on the boy's face when he flung some handheld item up there. Curiosity gets the better of you, and you clamber up to identify whatever tool he's left behind.

You can hardly believe your eyes as you identify the object.

"No way..."

It's... a Digivice! This thing is HIGHLY illegal, for good reason- It allows a human to interact with and control a Digital Monster. You've spoken to Digimon and watched them play before, but for the most part, mankind is sequestered away from them. They crop up in enclaves and lesser-developed part of the city, or are spawned from their garden-portals at random, but it's almost unheard of for one to fraternize with a person. Usage of Digimon is reserved for the AI servitor instances, who employ them for security purposes. The most notable of which is the guardian of the city itself.

And this guy was just walking around with one. Without a doubt, they'll soon be unfreezing him in the Tower and scanning through his inventory in search of this thing. And when they find out it's absent, they'll return here to search.

You want it. You need this Digivice. It could change your fate entirely. There's no arguing with this stroke of fortune. What you need to consider, however, is how you'll handle it.

Choose your personality type.

>You are a CAUTIOUS person. You have a cool head. You know that you need to cover up your tracks if you're going to loot this piece of contraband. You have to stay here and use some of your .app repertoire to erase your presence, even if it risks an encounter with returning servitors.

>You've always been IMPULSIVE. You're hot headed. Right now, you have to grab this thing and leave as soon as possible. No time for anything else, because if they scan him mid-flight, they could make a detour and come right back to catch you red-handed.

>You're SPITEFUL. Quite frankly, you don't care. Your weariness with this place has turned to outright hatred at some point. All these negative feelings boil within you, making you act unwise, but with a sense of unquenchable passion. Let them come, what's the worst they could do? You're going to grab this Digivice and saunter out of here without a worry. (Hard, unlocks alternate Digivolutions.)

Future updates probably won't be quite as long as this. Did a lot of pre-writing to set up the scene and atmosphere, but I'll be taking it day by day from now on!

>>6217228
>>6217010
Thank you fellas, will try to do it justice.

>>6217161
General look seems nice! This quest is inspired by the latest gen of toys, so the wrist bracelet also seems right. Toga dress doesn't quite fit the theme, so I've opted to write some kind of punk jacket that zips up diagonally and has loose folds like a toga.

>>6217270

>You're SPITEFUL. Quite frankly, you don't care. Your weariness with this place has turned to outright hatred at some point. All these negative feelings boil within you, making you act unwise, but with a sense of unquenchable passion. Let them come, what's the worst they could do? You're going to grab this Digivice and saunter out of here without a worry. (Hard, unlocks alternate Digivolutions.)

Mad as hell and not gonna take it anymore.

>>6217270
>You're SPITEFUL. Quite frankly, you don't care. Your weariness with this place has turned to outright hatred at some point. All these negative feelings boil within you, making you act unwise, but with a sense of unquenchable passion. Let them come, what's the worst they could do? You're going to grab this Digivice and saunter out of here without a worry. (Hard, unlocks alternate Digivolutions.)

A shame that this is basically hard mode since it’s what fits her previous characterization best, but oh well

>>6217270
>>You're SPITEFUL. Quite frankly, you don't care. Your weariness with this place has turned to outright hatred at some point. All these negative feelings boil within you, making you act unwise, but with a sense of unquenchable passion. Let them come, what's the worst they could do? You're going to grab this Digivice and saunter out of here without a worry. (Hard, unlocks alternate Digivolutions.)
We're going to see the world, and nobody is going to stop us.

>>6217270
>You're SPITEFUL. Quite frankly, you don't care. Your weariness with this place has turned to outright hatred at some point. All these negative feelings boil within you, making you act unwise, but with a sense of unquenchable passion. Let them come, what's the worst they could do? You're going to grab this Digivice and saunter out of here without a worry. (Hard, unlocks alternate Digivolutions.)

I'm going to draw my Marnie though, it's simplistic because it's only an unfinished prototype, I could fuse the googles with the laurels.
This is mostly for me, don't mind me.
>>6217270
>You are a CAUTIOUS person. You have a cool head. You know that you need to cover up your tracks if you're going to loot this piece of contraband. You have to stay here and use some of your .app repertoire to erase your presence, even if it risks an encounter with returning servitors.
This is what Marnie would do.

>>6217375
Cute goggle head

Also, what digilines are ya'll hoping we'll get to choose between?

>>6217376
Thanks
>Also, what digilines are ya'll hoping we'll get to choose between?
Jellymon of course, Ogremon (very Marnie), Hackmon, Gammamon.

>>6217379
based picks. Witchmon or Raremon would also be cool(and of course it goes without saying, so would literally any kinda devimon/ black variant digimon)

Will tally votes and post in about 8 hours.

>>6217375
Cute drawing! Seems like a solid general appearance to settle on for the MC. The traditional Protag Goggles will appear soon, of course.

>>6217376
>>6217385

Btw, if this is supposed to be a democratic thing and there's some interest you can vote to add shit (sensate answers)
I'm ok with the laurels idea but I don't know how you can combine punk, Greek and googles, even the AI shat the bed there.
We are in time to add a hat, it could be designed according to the chosen Digimon. You can post the hat and then I modify it.
You can modify the earrings and add a collar design. One of them has to be the emblem.
The bust size. I'd love it to keep it flat but it's your choice. We could also let it to imagination
I think we should keep it as faithful to the original Marnie as possible because GF are the ones that know how to design cute girls.

>>6217375
>>6217418
Cute draw! The laurel accents on the goggles work weirdly well

>>6217291
>>6217293
>>6217351
>>6217373
Locking in!

>>6217418
Oh hell yeah. Really appreciate the sketch. Having a visual for the MC so early really helps me get into writing too! I think I actually really liked the pale purple eyes the AI came up with, it fits dark colors, and then makes a triumvirate with black and the green laurels. Thank you anon o7

>You're SPITEFUL. Quite frankly, you don't care. Your weariness with this place has turned to outright hatred at some point. All these negative feelings boil within you, making you act unwise, but with a sense of unquenchable passion. Let them come, what's the worst they could do? You're going to grab this Digivice and saunter out of here without a care. (Hard, unlocks alternate Digivolutions.)

After watching another human get whisked off in front of you, how can you feel anything but hatred towards these machines? Towards this system? Bitter anger fuels you as you seize the Digivice, quickly stashing it in your inventory without even examining the screen. The incessant beeps are silenced in an instant. Something immediately feels wrong, however. There's a strange sense of queasiness radiating outwards from your core. You do your best to ignore it, as you depart the scene of the crime without even bothering to cover up your tracks. You'll change your own fate, whatever came before no longer matters.

Your destination is clear. You can't deal with an item like this on your own, you need an expert Code Cracker to give you the rundown on it. And as luck would have it, you're well acquainted with one. All your .apps of varying legality come from a Cracker who's been doing this for longer than you've been in 87O. As soon as you're far enough from where you found your prospective lifeline, you break away from the dingy alleyways and emerge onto the streets. Any pursuers will be using scanning tools, and if you're alone, they'll find you even faster. You go in a straight line, almost daring the servitors to seek you out. That haughtiness is dampened slightly once you look back and see a swarm of them descending on the scene you've since left behind.

The beeping renews itself when you're halfway to your destination. It catches you off guard at first, prompting you to whirl around and look for whatever program is trying to strike you down. It manifests as a vibration that passes through your whole body, like the ring of a phone. Only, it ought to be completely suspended. It's supposed to be nothing more than bits of code in your inventory, so how is it still able to influence the outside world?

Several passersbys turn to look at you, and you place a hand over your mouth to stifle the beeps that are escaping from within. The purplish light of the electronic lamps cast a spectral glow on all of your faces, hiding your embarrassed flush as you continue your trek towards the Cracker's base. You have no choice but to chalk it down to a quirk of the Digivice. You haven't even had the opportunity to examine it yet.

You stop between two seemingly empty partitions, in a disused part of the city. Nothing seems to have caught up to you, but it's only a matter of time now. The beeping hasn't been helping, and plenty of people have been alerted by it despite your best efforts. You turn around and look up at the distant tower, making sure that the numerous figures are still orbiting it. It's not like you expect Brigadramon to personally turn its Gatling cannon on you, but all naughty children are taught to look towards it when they misbehave, and you're no exception.

Despite the sound it causes, you're forced to take your hand off your mouth so you can check your outfit and make sure you look proper. You clench your teeth and purse your lips tight, trying to muffle the blasted sound with a staunch pout. A quick refresh resets your long hair to the state you saved it in, and your laurel headband returns to its rightful place. You tug on your zipper, loosening the baggy jacket and letting its numerous folds ease onto one another. You know how how it gets inside the workshop.

A tiny rubber duck emerges from your inventory, and you throw it into the gap between the partitions. It's incinerated in an instant, turning into 1s and 0s that drift away into cyberspace. What's left behind is a brass door, covered in verdigris and standing out like a sore thumb between the two slate-grey buildings on either side. You place your hand on the false texture of its surface and load yourself into the smaller chamber.

"Rubber duck, rubber duck... Stephen! That must be you!" Exclaims a voice, as soon as you enter the entry hall.

"It's Marnie, Doc."

"Well, shit. Then what did I give him?"

You shrug, casually moving through the grid of lasers that welcome every visitor. They spare you from their freeze-code payload, courtesy of the key item you've presented. A couple of turns later, you're in the sweltering heat of the workshop, in a partition that's almost filled to the brim with data. The man you're here to see is working away on a table, assembling a whole line of cloak.app files.

"Just a minute, love, need to put on the finishing touches..." Doc mumbles, as he inscribes a thin pattern within the app icon. You wait patiently.

Code Cracker Doc Cracker. The best technician you know, and probably the oldest. He whirls around with a winning smile once he's done unfunging his tools and ensuring they can't be replicated by upstart buyers. Half of the man's face is replaced with cybernetics that conceal the damage to his texture and wireframe, courtesy of messing with malware one too many times. If the servitors saw somebody like him walking the streets, they'd Pod them in an instant for forceful medical aid. And that would, without a doubt, raise innumerable questions.

"Back so soon? I gave you the usual package, what... Last week?"

"Last month, Doc." And you're already almost out. You burn through those apps fast, in your pursuit of excitement. The float.app was the last of its kind, and a staple among delinquents that you'll need more of soon.

"About time for a refill then... Did you bring me anything good?"

You pause. You don't actually have extra to spare. The type of scrap data you can gather for him is enough to pay for all your .apps, but he'll surely want something else in exchange for aid with the Digivice. You could always forego those tools, and use payment for a consultation, but then you'll be in the lurch during an emergency. And you have a feeling you'll need everything you can get, once you begin your quest in earnest.

>"Yeah. The usual." (Pay him for a refill of limited-use apps. These are tools that help you navigate the city in ways a standard human isn't meant to. Stealth, observation, gliding, any free spirit needs plenty of these toys. However, once you bring it up, you'll have to pay for help with the Digivice in some other way.)

>"Yes. But I need something else today-" (Offer payment solely to see what he can tell you about this Digivice. You can probably settle that debt before it becomes an issue, but you'll be foregoing a refill of important .app files that could make all the difference if you're being pursued.)

>>6217504
>"Yeah. The usual." (Pay him for a refill of limited-use apps. These are tools that help you navigate the city in ways a standard human isn't meant to. Stealth, observation, gliding, any free spirit needs plenty of these toys. However, once you bring it up, you'll have to pay for help with the Digivice in some other way.)
We don’t know our other options yet, and if we’re playing hard mode we should probably take all the easy cushions we can get.

Plus, traversal apps are fun.

>>6217418
Don't forget her black robe-jacket with diagonal zipper. Good art, though! Maybe some green leaf accents on that in terms of pattern or zipper deisgn to tie it together?

>>6217504
>"Yeah. The usual." (Pay him for a refill of limited-use apps. These are tools that help you navigate the city in ways a standard human isn't meant to. Stealth, observation, gliding, any free spirit needs plenty of these toys. However, once you bring it up, you'll have to pay for help with the Digivice in some other way.)
At least until we know what our digutal pet can do.
Personally, I'm hoping for Gazimon or Impmon.

>>6217504
>"Yeah. The usual."

>>6217504
>"Yeah. The usual." (Pay him for a refill of limited-use apps. These are tools that help you navigate the city in ways a standard human isn't meant to. Stealth, observation, gliding, any free spirit needs plenty of these toys. However, once you bring it up, you'll have to pay for help with the Digivice in some other way.)

Oh hey look it's worse ripper doc

>>6217504
>"Yeah. The usual." (Pay him for a refill of limited-use apps. These are tools that help you navigate the city in ways a standard human isn't meant to. Stealth, observation, gliding, any free spirit needs plenty of these toys. However, once you bring it up, you'll have to pay for help with the Digivice in some other way.)

>>6217509
I won't draw the jacket yet because I need my motivation and because I have a hard time visualizing it. If you could make a drawing, that'll help me a lot.
>>6217501
Ok, the green eyes seemed a bit off.

>>6217504
>"Yeah. The usual." (Pay him for a refill of limited-use apps. These are tools that help you navigate the city in ways a standard human isn't meant to. Stealth, observation, gliding, any free spirit needs plenty of these toys. However, once you bring it up, you'll have to pay for help with the Digivice in some other way.)

>>6217517
Maybe I should let the pink dress

>>6217504
>>"Yeah. The usual." (Pay him for a refill of limited-use apps. These are tools that help you navigate the city in ways a standard human isn't meant to. Stealth, observation, gliding, any free spirit needs plenty of these toys. However, once you bring it up, you'll have to pay for help with the Digivice in some other way.)

>>6217504
>"Yeah. The usual." (Pay him for a refill of limited-use apps. These are tools that help you navigate the city in ways a standard human isn't meant to. Stealth, observation, gliding, any free spirit needs plenty of these toys. However, once you bring it up, you'll have to pay for help with the Digivice in some other way.)

>>6217529
Nah, more ecogoth more better.

>>6217517
I'm no artist by any means, but maybe...

>>6217742
this is perfection

Seems unanimous to pick up apps. Will write update later.

>>6217742
>>6217529
Hell yeah! Looks great.

>>6217742
Yep, it looks great, this is exactly the kind of ref I wanted.
>I'm no artist by any means
Neither I am lol

>"Yeah. The usual." (Pay him for a refill of limited-use apps. These are tools that help you navigate the city in ways a standard human isn't meant to. Stealth, observation, gliding, any free spirit needs plenty of these toys. However, you'll have to pay for help with the Digivice in some other way.)

"Yeah. The usual."

Doc moves about like an insect, snapping from one bench to another as he gathers up the tools into a zipped up archive. You don't bother keeping track, he's too much of a professional to try and stiff you, and your eyes can't keep up with his lightning-fast motions anyway. In the meantime, you get his payment out of your inventory.

Every time you get a refill, he gives you a list of things he wants. Money and currency is barely an issue in 87O. There are jobs, but every single one is trivial, and it becomes immediately obvious to any workers they're not contributing to the running of the city. Doc explained it clearly once, in a way even a teenager could understand. The servitors probably identified a need for fulfilment in humans, and created jobs for them to do. However, they failed to consider that the meaning behind a role is just as important as the physical actions. Clocking in to solve arbitrary puzzles in a nothing-factory is a career worthy of a lab monkey. The only point in taking on a job is to grind out credits, a worthless unit in a world where scarcity doesn't exist. It does allow you to buy luxuries such as deluxe food and an ever-rotating catalog of outfits, but the real money is in the black market.

Code Crackers excel at making their own unsanctioned .app files, and the healthy underground industry is something far more exciting than the sterile economy of the city. Doc's grocery list changes regularly. Sometimes, he wants you to steal trivial furnishings from the map and bring him their files directly. Sometimes, he just wants you to chart map data. Other times, there are physical parameters you need to achieve in order to gather up data. The free-fall you took off your favorite roof was one such thing, meant as a routine check on this simulation's gravity. A delayed fall could mean that the whole system is chugging, for example, and that physics are running slower.

As he finishes compiling the .zip, the loudest beep yet escapes from your mouth. He stops in his tracks, banging his head against a metal shelf as he straightens up to his full height.

"You say something, Marnie?" He inquires, a note of suspicion creeping into his voice.

"I... Uh..." You struggle to think up an explanation.

"Hmm... You'd know better than to run strange programs in my workshop. What's going on there?"

With no desire to upset him, or come up with a shoddy lie, you decide to materialize the Digivice in your hand. The accursed beeping continues, its whine audible above the whirring and hissing of the servers. Immediately, his neon eye lights up, and he greedily holds out an arm. You reflexively pull back, keeping the item out of his grip. He gets the hint, controlling himself and staying put for a good look.

"That's quite the gem you've got there, girl. I wouldn't be so presumptuous as to think it's for me. But..."

"You'd be right then, Doc. I came here to ask questions about it. It's mine." You respond, standing your ground firmly.

"And how did you come across it? It wouldn't happen to have anything to do with the guard instances sweeping the neighborhood, would it?"

He grins slyly as you look towards the door in panic. They're on to you already. Trouble could come any minute. The Digivice might be your ticket out of here, but it's a beeping time bomb that threatens to bring heat down on your laurel-ringed head. Doc clearly wants this for himself, and it would save you a great deal of pain if you just handed it to him. But that's not an option. It will never be an option.

"Not telling."

"That so?"

"It is. But I could really use some help figuring it out. I'll pay."

Doc taps his foot, his gaze still fixed on the little treasure. In the end, however, his professionalism wins out. He's seedy, but he's never been greedy. Code Crackers of his level don't work with traitors, and the courtesy is mutual. He holds out a hand for the item, and this time, you can tell he means business. With great reluctance, you offer it up.

Colours flash across his cyclops lens, as he pores over the Digivice with great interest. The beeping stops as soon as it leaves your hand, much to your chagrin, and soon enough, that wicked smile is back on his swarthy face. You break the brief silence first, antsy for answers.

"I know it can let me work with Digimon, right? But I don't know how to use it. Or where to find them."

"Then you're in luck, girl, because you've got a real beaut locked up in here already."

"Huh?"

A Digimon! Already on the device! That'll save you a great deal of trouble hunting one down. He continues talking before you can field questions.

"It's not the only way to get one, of course. It's just the most efficient. Tell you what. I have a job I need doing. Something that was beyond you, before you came through my door today. Do it, and I'll tell you everything you need to know. Even give you a bonus."

He whistles sharply. Rustling and clanking sounds out from deeper in the partition, and you look up in alarm. Footsteps echo down the hall, and several shapes slowly peek into the room, eliciting a sharp gasp from you.

The creatures coming into view can be none other than Digimon themselves. You resist the urge to whip out your binos and scan them, not wanting to aggravate the little robotic fellas. You suppose you shouldn't be surprised that someone of Doc's level has access to them. It just takes a bit of wind out of your sails to find out that they've been lurking out of sight this whole time. You're so busy taking the sight in that you barely notice his outstretched hand, impatiently trying to hand you your Digivice.

As you clasp it firmly in your palm, one of the trio speaks.

"D O C, W H O I S T H I S?"

"Nobody you need to remember. Say hello, Kokuwamon.

"H E L L O."
"H E L L O."

"H E L L O."

"H-hi!" You spit out.

"Oh, don't look so stunned now. Consider this a little show of trust. And proof I know my way around Digimon."

You nod, struggling to tear your eyes away from the Kokuwamon. The three are exactly the same, down to the wires and peripherals stretching out from their robotic bodies. Their heads are shaped like insects, or magnets of some kind, with tiny arcs of electricity passing between them. They bob up and down idly, red eyes gleaming in the dim light. You've seldom been this close to them. One of the most memorable encounters you had was with a Hagurumon, a gear-like robot much like these three in overall style, but their shapes are completely different.

"I don't just send customers out to do my chores. What kind of Cracker would I be then? My four little friends here help me out."

"Four?"

"Supposed to be. Until recently. One of them went missing, and I can't muster up a search team. Can't leave this room. Can't direct these three effectively. Can't trust anyone to do the job. Not unless they have a Digimon of their own."

You get it immediately. You, with your new Digivice, are probably the only person he knows who has a shot at this task. You're both dealing with something even more illegal than usual, so there's no sense in selling each other out. All you have to do is this errand for him, and he'll tell you what you need to know about owning a Digivice.

Easier said than done. You don't know the scope of this challenge, but you welcome it all the same. You've already committed to doing whatever needs to be done.

"How do I get started?"

"Now that's what I like to hear! I have a map of where Kokuwamon number three vanished, and a log of what it was doing right before. I want you to bring him back, or if not, bring me a good lead. And there's a real chance another Digimon is involved."

"Which is where this comes in." You shake the Digivice, causing it to beep again.

"Clever girl. A human can't fight a Digimon. And I'm not about to give you means to do it. I don't do guns." He shakes his head, going over his ironclad rule once again. "So you'll need your partner for that.

"But how do I use it? I haven't even taken a good look yet. Can't you give me a basic lesson, at least? Before I-"

"I don't do advances, girl, that deal isn't changing. But it has three buttons. I'm sure you can figure out step one, and that's all you'll need. Now, the good stuff, I'll save for when you get back."

It's not a deal that's in your favor, but it's the only one you've got. There are too many questions that he won't be answering, and you feel a pang of deep irritation. He expects you to find his pet, learn how to use a Digimon to do it, But he won't give you a weapon to shoot down the servitors, nor tell you to control the creature inside your device.

"...Fine."

He swipes the .zip towards you, and you absorb it straight into your inventory before unpacking it. Your .app library is replenished handily, at least giving you an edge in the task ahead. The map file and action log from the missing Kokuwamon are included. You hand over the payment, and slowly move towards the exit. Three and a half sets of eyes focus on you, and you find your gaze glued to the three small Digimon in turn, all the way till you pass through the laser grid again. Doc Cracker's voice calls out from deep inside.

"Good luck, Marnie! And don't come back empty handed."

You load back into the outside world, feeling the air turn many degrees colder. The Kokuwamon do solve one mystery, at least, that you're capable of figuring out for yourself. Partitions are meant to have a data capacity, in part to keep dangerous Digimon and programs out of human-inhabited zones. Larger ones will find themselves unable to enter due to the inherent storage requirements of the environment. Even the open air of 87O is just a gigantic partition, big enough for the likes of Brigadramon and its underlings to patrol, along with the hundreds and thousands of people out on the street at any one time. Packing three into a single lab must bring it close to the brink.

Your gaze turns to the rapidly beeping Digivice. You haven't even had the time to get a proper look at it yet, and for the first time, its simplistic beauty hits you.

What does your Digivice look like? And what does it contain?

>Black and Red. Inside is Phascomon, the Dark Beast Digimon.

>Blue and White. Inside is Gammamon, the Ceratopsian Digimon.

>Yellow and Grey. Inside is ToyAgumon, the Puppet Digimon.

Phew, there we go. I can't seem to do the traditional reply to all the votes, because 4chan keeps marking it as spam. I do make sure to tally them properly though.

Time to meet your Digimon partner! Had them in mind before the quest started, so I hope they're interesting ones.

>>6217932
>Black and Red. Inside is Phascomon, the Dark Beast Digimon.

>>6217932
>Yellow and Grey. Inside is ToyAgumon, the Puppet Digimon.
Gives us lots of options, including (and not limited to) the classic Greymon line.

Honestly, as long as Phascomon doesn’t get chosen I’m fine. That thing’s entire line is such an eyesore, it looks like all that bootleg vinyl trash you’d find in ghetto strip mall stores.

>>6217932
>Black and Red. Inside is Phascomon, the Dark Beast Digimon.
An evil koala best suuts our spiteful gal who wants nothing more than to touch grass.

>>6217941 (me, if mobile IP changed again) is >>6217742 on mobile, btw)

>>6217932
>Black and Red. Inside is Phascomon, the Dark Beast Digimon.

He eepy

>>6217932
>>Yellow and Grey. Inside is ToyAgumon, the Puppet Digimon.
Lego dino looks interesting

>>6217932
>Black and Red. Inside is Phascomon, the Dark Beast Digimon.
This is what Marnie would pick also I have hope in that it can go from Porcupamon to WaruMonzaemon/Monzaemon to ShinMonzaemon. But Belphemon is good too even if Astamon sucks dick.
ToyAgumon is probably closer to the Mamemon line but I've used it plenty of times already.

>>6217991
MadLeomon or Sangloupmon would be cool, too.

>>6218054
MadLeomon is cool, SangLoupmon too but I don't like that it turns into Myotismon. I have serious Adventure fatigue.

>>6218110
Or Cerberumon, or GrandDracumon, or Mephismon, or Oleamon, or BlackWereGarurumon... We have options, anon.

>>6218112
Good then.

>>6218110
Yeah me too. There will be no Adventure wank this quest. If there is by accident, it's because I didn't watch that far and happened to pick the same guys.

>>6217932
>Yellow and Grey. Inside is ToyAgumon, the Puppet Digimon.

>>6217939
>>6217941
>>6217956
>>6217991

>>6217940
>>6217961
>>6218260

Close! Locking and writing. Phascomon will be Marnie's Digimon Partner.

>>6217742
It didn't go very well for me. Drawing a jacket is too hard for me, I can only do it at weekends. I also need the photo of a real jacket of your liking to use as a reference. The good thing is that we already got a mental image of her looks, that's the most important thing.
What I can do after this update is trying to come up with a Phascomon hat or some sort of ToyAgumon ornament.
Or we can leave her like this, I'll try the hat for funsies.

>>6218287
Hell yeah! The mental picture has been great for envisioning things in writing. I don't actually have a good jacket ref, unfortunately, not a fashion guy. I was thinking that the most iconic part of a toga is how the cloth falls and folds on itself, so maybe a jacket where the lower half drops and drapes when unzipped. I was also referring to Digimon Seekers for the general aesthetic of the world and characters, since it has an urban vibe.

>Black and Red. Inside is Phascomon, the Dark Beast Digimon.

Your Digivice is black and red. Like Doc said, there are three buttons, and an ancient-looking LCD screen with several pixels that make up a small creature. Even on the tiny canvas, you can see a set of angry eyebrows on it. The beeping is a bit more obvious now that you're on the street, and you quickly look up at the sky in search of the sentries Doc warned you about.

As you take your eyes off the device for a moment, it buzzes in your hand and releases a stream of blinding light. A blob of 1s and 0s spill out and coalesce into the shape of a small animal. You gasp, urgently looking for anything that can dampen the light, but it fades after a moment, returning the glow of the street to its previous state. The rusted door is gone, leaving the two of you standing there between two disused buildings. A whole street stretches out before you, ready for witnesses to stroll by at any moment.

"What's the big idea, Takuda?! You've been-"

The koala-like beast glares up at you, its droopy eyes furrowed in shock, then anger. Despite its height, the proportions of its body are large and distinct, causing it to take up a substantial amount of space. Two devilish horns sit atop its head, and a wicked set of claws soon rise up to point at you.

"... You're not him."

You take a tentative step back. Certain Digimon are capable of deleting humans entirely with their attacks, and you don't know what kind this one is. Whatever it is, it'll hurt like hell if it attacks you, inflicting more pain than what the city normally allows its residents to feel. It sets the tips of its curved digits against the brick and advances down the alley, leaving three flickering lines across the texture.

"Who are you? And where is he?"

This isn't ideal. Your Digimon is pissed off already, and looks prepared to fight. You weren't really sure what to expect when you started messing with the Digivice, but a hostile prisoner certainly wasn't an option. Doc didn't even give you a key item this time, so you can't flee into the safety of the partition again. With no other options, you're left with only the truth as your defense.

"Takuda? Is that your owner? He got Podded."

"Owner? Listen here- I'm a free Digimon, capisce? He and I are just business partners." The sleepy-looking thing snaps at you, looking particularly incensed by your words. You'll have to choose your next ones carefully.

"And what do you mean he got Podded? He just up and got himself caught? What a dolt!"

The creature begins pacing back and forth, deep in thought. Now might be a good time to run from it, but like you've decided, it isn't an option. You need to get to know this Digimon better, and hopefully control it.

"He's gone. I watched him throw the Digivice onto a roof. They picked him up seconds later, I think he's in the tower now."

"Great. Just great..." It mumbles, before lowering its claws and plopping down onto its haunches. You see its head bobbing up and down as it visibly deflates.

"My name is Marnie. I picked you up right after. So it was you doing all the beeping?"

"Yeah, was me. Trying to figure out why he was jostling me so much. Be glad I didn't force myself out before now."

It rocks back and forth, grumbling under its breath as you take a proper look at it. The Digimon is a bit smaller than Kokuwamon, and looks a lot more organic. He has two round ears on either side of his head, and a giant nose sitting in the middle of the face. You find his features adorable despite his miniature tantrum, mixing devilishly sharp points and edges with the wooly fuzz of a stuffed animal.

"... Name's Phascomon. So, what now? What do you want?"

He looks up at you, focusing his full attention on your lilac eyes. He's still curled up with his claws lazily dangling between his legs, in a posture that doesn't seem ready to strike. You have a chance to establish the terms of your relationship.