thefolder | Olympic Contact

Olympic Contact

Who: Minervamon, and you
What: A visitor, with something to say
Where: HospiTown
When: January 15th and 16th, 2013

Around noon, a figure walks into HospiTown. She is short, probably the size of some of the younger kids, and she carries a sword.

Rather, the sword drags on the ground, as she walks with grunts and injuries. When she reaches the Hospital's doors, she drops it, and she half-sits, half-leans against the building. An Agumon approaches her, one who works there, with shock and gasps.

"Don't be surprised," says the Digimon, Minervamon. "I'm not gonna cause any trouble. Could you tell the Chosen I'm here to talk? I owe them that much, and, well. I'd rather not barge into your fine establishment."

She grins weakly, and the Agumon, in a daze, rushes inside. Moments later, an announcement goes throughout the Hospital, via a PA system: You've got a visitor, and it's a God! She's here to talk, Minervamon's here to talk!

She chuckles. Well, that'll get some of them out, but maybe with more of a fuss than she wanted...

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[Terra didn't go looking for Minervamon yesterday to speak to her, but he'd been watching. Wounded people weren't always of the clearest mind to talk, and he was content to wait. Other people had their grievances to air, and he didn't want to get involved.

'God' didn't mean especially much. He'd met a god once, a guy with his head on fire. Terra hadn't been impressed.

But when she goes wandering around, healthy enough to do at least a little travel, it's then and only then that he actually approaches, Dorumon silent at his side, far more alarmed by this whole thing than Terra himself was.]

You're Minervamon, miss?

[Polite, cordial. There's not a trace of hostility, but he hadn't been there for the terrible battle that erased a city. She's teeny, but size wasn't everything.]

Can I have a few moments of your time?

[Miss? That one's new. When Terra finds Minervamon, she's around the town's outskirts, seemingly exploring.]

Of course. That's what I'm here for, after all, to give my time. And no miss, please, I'm not cut out for that stuff.

Ah.. sorry, I don't know the proper way to address you.

[How DO you address a tiny goddess digimon?? Ma'am just didn't seem right somehow. Terra seems to have decided that getting it wrong is some sort of social faux pas, by his embarassment. But she seems friendly enough and not about to kill him for it, so there's that much!]

Alright. ... Are you really a goddess of this world?

Of course I am! Ah... I get the feeling that means something a little differently to you?

[She leans against her word.]

I've only met one god, and he seemed mostly interested in rigging competitions.

[Less than impressed with that one? You betcha. But this one, well, he's content to wait and see. She certainly didn't have Hades' level of smarm!]

As far as I can tell 'God' just means a being that lives in a different sort of reality than this one, and when they come here they have more power because of it. Is that how it works here?

[That surely doesn't sound like any God she's met.]

...Sort of. There are different Digital planes, and we spend more time on one above this one. [She won't use the beanstalk metaphor again...] We were born in this world, however. We were...early. Like many of the powerful Digimon. We don't rule this world, but with the powers we have...

Well, we used to want to keep order. As long as everything was aligned properly, the world didn't need us.

[It wouldn't be the first world where the precursors were the most powerful. He seems to accept it easily enough; that's not quite what he'd call a god, but definitely a being worth having a healthy respect for.

If not personally, then for their capabilities. There's a slight nod. Okay. His Dorumon still hasn't spoken, instead listening intently to everything said. Someone has to remember it all for later!]

It seems things aren't really well-aligned anymore. Do you know exactly what it is we're being brought here to do? 'Save the world' is painfully vague.

I'll say first that I didn't bring you in. ...Neither did Jupitermon, he started trying to take precautions in case you sided against him...

[She scowls but- no, she has to keep this all controlled.]

The world has it's own...safeguards, when it's in trouble. Since the first Chosen appeared when they started to merge, I think it wants to be set back the way it was. For that, we need the ARCloner, and a prayer that it can reverse all this.

If he keeps being involved in the vaporizing of cities, then people are going to side against him. And anyone else involved, probably.

[Not mentioning any names.

Not at all.

But this is something he hadn't heard before, and it is a direction at least. Terra liked having a direction to head in. It was much better than having no idea, and nobody else knowing either. There's a slow nod; he has no idea really what the ARCloner is beyond vague details, but it's theoretically a thing that can be found and moved and used.]

Do you know where it is? ... No, probably not. [If she did, they wouldn't need to find it, she'd likely have gone for it already..] Or where it was last, rather? Somewhere to begin hunting.

[Unless she does know where it is. 'In the hands of Jupitermon' is not an answer he's hoping for.]

With Titamon. [Well, it's not the answer Terra thought it would be! Is that progress?] Likely in his moving base, or stored away in some pocket dimension, because he loves to see us squirm.

[She doesn't sound too happy about Titamon, not one bit.]

[At the name that ISN'T Jupitermon and thus must somehow be better, Terra glances down at Dorumon, who merely stares back up, owl-eyed. That's not particularly helpful.]

I haven't heard that name yet. Who or what is Titamon?

[They have a name! He knew it was just a matter of finding the source of the problem and then beating it into submission..!]

Titamon is the biggest Digimon in existence, who we Olympus XII have only been able to defeat when we're all combined and even then he's reborn to rise up again. Back in November he trashed the old city. Before it disappeared.

[So Minervamon recounts with deadpan frustration.]

He's the biggest pain, and he strives to be one.

[There's another slow nod, and a frown. That was going to be problematic. Except didn't digimon need a human partner to reach their full potential? Maybe the Olympus twelve simply didn't ... have partners. At least, not yet. Maybe they had to look for their 'chosen' too.]

It sounds like a lot of trouble. I guess once the ARCloner is found we'll ... have to deal with him and find some way to prevent his resurrections. Or if all of this really is data manifest, find a way to alter his data into something less dangerous. ...Can't help there though.

[Terra wouldn't be able to program a VCR.]

... Thank you for all of the information, also. Nobody else I've spoken to seems to know why we're here or what we have to do.

[And now he does! Or at least some semblance of it. A purpose does a Terra good. He likes goals, yes he does. That it requires so much actual conversation will just have to be tolerated. It pays to be polite to helpful people, it encourages them to be helpful in the future.]

I don't want to keep you too long. I can't imagine you'll get a lot of peaceful days. Is there anything else we should probably know, if we're going to be hunting this guy down and taking things from him?

Alter his data... [Seems like an idea Minervamon can get behind. She smiles lightly, thinking, thinking...

She whips a braid behind her head and half-grins.] That's sorta all I know. I'll leave a message on your network, sum up everything in case I remember something else. Alright, tall dark and smiley?

[If all gods were like this, maybe there'd be a lot more pleasant worlds to visit.]

Even if it's all you know, it's a lot more than anyone I've spoken to knows. Thank you very much for sharing it with all of us.

[And he really does seem appreciative! It's nice to have a direction to stab in. And possibly tell others about. Others might be grumpy about Minervamon's presence, but Terra's not one of them. He gives a neat, precise bow to the smaller being; he still didn't know how to properly address her but politeness never hurts.]

I'll leave you to your evening then. Please enjoy it.

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Olympic Contact

January 16th

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