you fight me [lance]

[Bryston Morgan]

The ever crowded streets of Tokyo were a perfect mask for a guy like Bryston. The sounds and hustle easily blocked out by noise cutting headphones playing music that seemed all too positive for someone of his demeanor. He wasn't sure why he liked to listen to such light things. Maybe for a moment it took him out of his harsh reality, which he enforced upon himself with an iron fist. Of course, there were those that took it as a positive sign, but Bryce truly saw no value to the lyrics presented. They were like dreams. A fantasy. Unreal.

"Mister Bryce?" he managed to hear through the dull throb of the bass in his ears. "Mister Bryce, where are we going?"

Something that could only be described as a feral snarl worked its way out of the boy in question. He whirled around on the DORUmon speaking to him, and with narrowed, accusing eyes spat back, "Just shut up and follow. You're supposed to follow me, aren't you?" Truth be told, he wasn't sure how he felt about being a Digimon Tamer. He didn't think he deserved a partner, let alone a Digimon like the soft-spoken DORUmon, which he'd named Pyrrha. Still, he supposed it gave him something to drone on about in his pitiful life. At least there was something keeping him grounded, even if it was grounded by a sense of complete and utter hatred for the creature behind him. She was far too kind. He had to change that. He had to make her see the world as he did: as a curse. That was his job, really. Make everyone understand just how fucked up society was. How unfair it was. And how they had to uphold that fucked up system because, by some sick and twisted hand of fate, it worked for him. He liked being the scum of the universe - or, that was what he told himself at night.

"I want you to find someone to fight," he commanded at last, stopping mid step, causing the Digimon in question to walk right into the back of his leg. "I'm itching for a fight."

"S-sorry I--" she paused. Pyrrha had long since learned that Bryce didn't take apologies well. "I mean... yes! I'm on it!"

"Pick someone tough this time. I'm sick and tired of winning without batting an eyelash." Nevermind the fact that he wasn't the one fighting, just giving the orders. Either way, the DORUmon diligently slipped through the numerous legs of people in the streets, seeking out any Digimon to pick a fight with. She wasn't sure why her Tamer was so invested in violence, but she did feel as though there was something far more to him then just the shroud of hatred he veiled himself with. She just wasn't quite sure how to bring it out of him.

Lance Mallory

MARI @ GS!

[Lance Mallory]

"you know i'm bad, i'm bad, i'm really really bad" ☒ Bryston Morgan ✐ 700 ✉ Have fun with a Lance with a knife and a grumpy Gizamon. MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS

Lance Mallory, in any other situation, wouldn't have hesitated to pick a fight with anyone. He was a good many things - vain, cocky, confident, brazen - but reckless wasn't one of them. He rarely started races or fights that he wasn't sure he could win, and he never started any that had a negative impact on him. If he was going to lose out on all accounts, he simply avoided the issue when possible. Today, however, was different. Today he had gotten his bike and ridden in to Tokyo in search of some rare electronic parts, along with some custom-made parts for his motorcycle as well. He had woken up this morning with a pleased smirk on his lips, and the man had quite the saunter in his step, rather excited at the prospect of having a new toy to test out on his computer and the chance to make his motorcycle even faster. Siri, on the other hand, was just happy that her Tamer wasn't racing again. She wasn't quite sure what she would have done had that actually happened. She hated driving with him enough, nevermind when he actually drove his motorcycle like a maniac and nearly got them killed five times. Her claws didn't grip his jacket hard enough to threaten to leave large gashes in the material, and after he stopped the bike, propping it up and fiddling with it in the way that he always did so that it was near impossible to hotwire, she found herself hardly relaxing at all when she made that jump off the seat to the ground; usually Lance had to pry her off the back of the motorcycle with a crowbar simply because of how tightly she had locked her grip out of terror. The Gizamon quietly padded around after him as they made their way through the streets, keeping close to his heels so that she didn't lose him in the crowd, and sometimes he would let his hand trail back to brush against her head, the cool metal of his rings contrasting with the warmth of his hand. Lance almost let out an audible purr when he spotted the kiosk that he would be picking up his things from, the man sauntering over with one hand shoved into the pocket of his black hoodie, fingers lightly curling around a switchblade for protection. After all, he had no idea exactly what he was walking into. "Mallory," he stated at the owner's questioning look, watching a flash of insight open up inside the depths as the old woman began searching through the insides of the cart. A flicker of crimson eyes made the Gizamon huff softly, but the Rookie obediently reared up, using the guise of curiousity to peer down into the contents to make sure the woman wasn't going to pull a gun. She watched quietly as the other human retrieved a couple of packages that were about the size of her palm, and at the sight, Lance didn't betray a hint of the excitement that she could feel pulsing off of him - she had been with him long enough to be able to pick up on when his body thrummed with emotions no matter how hard he might have tried to hide them; that was part of why she'd not been so fussy about letting him race because even if it was dangerous, it made him happy, and she wasn't going to ruin that for him - but he took the two packages, stuffing them away into his pockets and turning curtly. "You'll have your payment when I make sure that everything works properly," he stated over his shoulder, then clicked his fingers. "Come, Siri." The Rookie Digimon rolled her eyes but hopped down again to all fours, trotting after him. She wouldn't have followed him if he treated her like this in private, but since he had an image to keep up, she went along with it. Besides, she rather liked being able to sleep at the garage while he worked. The couches there were much more comfortable with wear than the ones at their apartment anyway. Much less stiff and much more giving.

[Bryston Morgan]

Pyrrha knew that there wasn't a lot of time to waste idly searching for someone 'tough.' To be honest, she wasn't sure how to single a person out like that. There were dozens of new Tamers popping up everyday, and she'd absorbed the data of many, much to her own dismay. All she knew was that Bryston was not a patient boy, and if she took even a moment to catch a breath, there'd be hell to answer to later. She grimaced. It was as if he lashed out at her - she could fight back and he knew it - but he had a way of putting her down and simultaneously putting himself down when he was mad. Then again, he was always angry. How am I to help him? she thought.

At long last, after weaving through leg after leg, she came upon Lance and his Gizamon. She was no expert on what kind of human and Digimon partner would pose a challenge, but she figured that those two were the best she was going to find on a day like today. "I'm so sorry," she whispered, her voice drowned out by the hustle of the crowd. Composing herself for battle, she took a breath, and then leapt up into the air, aiming her clawed feet at Lance and Gizamon. She was careful to only barely miss them. All she wanted to do was get their attention. Curling her upper lip and growling at the two in front of her, she hissed out, "My master says to fight you."

Bryston, meanwhile, leisurely made his way in the direction he saw his Digimon partner run off, grabbing a cigarette from behind his ear and a lighter from his pocket. It was safe to say he was addicted to these things. A gross habit, but he was a gross person, as he claimed time and again. He knew it would lead to a slow, painful death in the long run, but for now it would give him temporary relief from the raging storm of disdain rising inside of him. He was a ticking time bomb. One wrong step could easily slip him over the edge, and he knew he had the capability to do something horrible if that happened. Despite the fact that he considered himself scum, he still retained some shred of humanity. A very, very thin shred.

Lance Mallory

MARI @ GS!

[Lance Mallory]

"you know i'm bad, i'm bad, i'm really really bad" ☒ Bryston Morgan ✐ 391 ✉ Bleh, short post, but better than nothing, I suppose. MADE BY ★MEULK OF GS

Siri was the one to sense it first, and the Gizamon acted fast, lunging forward to grab her Tamer by the back of Lance's furry jacket and yanking him back just shy of the flashing claws, the nails darting inches from handsome crimson orbs. Still, the surprise didn't linger long on the man's face before he had hidden it away again, a cursory glance at the Rookie at his side telling her that she was to be ready. "How... naive," he cooed, smirking, bringing one finger up to rest against his lips, the others splayed against his neck and jaw. "You think that jumping at me and Siri will actually make me want to indulge you." He waved his hand out in a single, fluid snap of his wrist. "Sorry, but I don't listen to people who think they can just boss me around. Or Digimon, for that matter." Turning on his heel and taking a quick glance about the scene, he settled upon the DORUmon's likely Tamer, an unamused expression on his face as he reached out to snatch the cigarette out of the other's hand. "Ugh, keep better eye on your Digimon," he scolded, rolling his eyes as he inspected the cigarette with distaste just as clear in his carmine orbs as the disdain was in his tone. "She could have broken some very important merchandise I just picked up, and if that had happened... well, we'll just say that you wouldn't have had a Digimon partner anymore and leave it at that, savvy?" He flicked his pointer finger out, allowing the cigarette to drop to the ground as he focused his eyes on his ring. "Now, if we have a mutual understanding, I won't have to beat you within an inch of your life, since in case you haven't noticed, I have places to be and things to do, and I'm not in a good mood for having been interrupted." Lance had no problems with treading all over someone when it suited his own amusements, and in fact, he would very well have indulged in letting Siri beat the stupid Dragon Digimon if he didn't have those parts in his pockets. He had his priorities, and as fond as he was of causing chaos for his own amusement... he rather wanted to tinker more, thank you very much.