Rather Camp

 

Jyou glared at the barely legible piece of A4 in front of him. "And, you claim to be a writer?"
         Mullen rumbled in his chair, his flabby guts rippling like sea water, stains from his earlier feast of chocolate eclairs where the cream had dripped, formed the froth on the tip of the wave. His pudgy arms flailed.
         "Just read the disclaimer!" He roared at Jyou, his watery eyes bulging behind his pince de nez, tie trapped between his many spare tyres.
         Jyou shrugged, and got on with it. "Readers are asked to acknowledge that the.... is that really supposed to say copyright? Honestly? Ugh, your writing is positively awful... that the copyright and registered trademarks of... How'd you manage this?" He asked, correcting the writing with a pencil, "How did you misspell "Digimon"? Really... of Digimon belong to Toei, and Fox Kids, apparently... Apparently? Why did you put apparently? It belongs to Fox Kids, accept it... and the story contain scenes a minor really shouldn't read, but will anyway of sheer curiosity... This sounds totally unprofessional, you realise.... so don't say I didn't warn you within a witty self-depreci... deprici..."
         "Depreciating."
         "Yes, thank you... Self-depreciating dialog between the author and a character. All silly jokes belong to Herr Mullen, and this story should not be used without crediting it to him. Yours faithfully.... What the bloody hell is that squiggle?"
          "It's a signature."
          "You must get into so much trouble at banks."
          "I do."
           They stood in silence. Jyou coughed uneasily, and Herr Mullen's expansive tummy gave a rumble.
           "Maybe you should write the story now."

Bump, bump, bump, went the Chosen, as they hit the floor, Taichi first.
            "Ow," said Yamato, "I fell on my Taichi."
            "Maybe you should kiss it better."
            "Taichi, please!" Wailed Hikari, "We do not want to hear your innuendos!"
            "We don't?" Asked Tailmon. Hikari gave a little glare. "Oh. We don't."
            Miyako and Kushiro fell atop the pile of Chosen, dedicated a few seconds to working out what they'd landed on, then a few more to trying to get off without hurting anyone. Augumon sustained a kick in the face, by Miyako, and a grope, by Gabumon., but that was about it.
             Once they'd all got climbed onto their feet, they began to walk  into the forest. Kushiro assured everyone there was a clearing ahead with a spring, and so everyone was rather irritated when they failed to fall across it. The details of the journey went as such: Mimi whining about the time it was taking, Jyou comforting and attempting flirt with her, which she missed entirely, Ken and Daisuke hanging 'round the back, their lips sharing secrets, such as "I do so enjoy your company, and would like to partake in intercourse later on in this passage," and what they'd eaten for tea. From the taste, Ken had eaten noodles, and Daisuke had consumed an iguana. Not iguana, I'm sorry, I meant a banana. He'd been rather hurried for meals that day, what with the rush for the opening sale day at John Lewis. He'd got a nice new set of towels.
               They trudged onward. Night began to fall with the Sun, lunar ball raising in revolution to total darkness, stars joining the revolt, twinkling defiant candlelight against the new regime. Eventually, the team stopped to set up camp. Taichi and Yamato looked for the lake that would undoubtedly be nearby, whilst Mimi and Jyou gathered firewood. Takeru, Daisuke, Ken and Iori pitched the tents, and Kushiro, accompanied by Miyako, creating a lovely duet, sat under a tree, their lips sharing secrets, but using voices as opposed to the manner in which Daisuke and Ken had become accustomed to in the last few hours. Hikari and Sora sat away from the rest, also sharing secrets.

               "So, when are you going to tell her?"

               Sora shifted uneasily. "She just doesn't seem to be the type. She's so... innocent."
               "Innocence is no proof of preference."
               Sora sat quietly, in deep meditation. "You are right, I guess. But she's so... girly. Pink."
               "In the same way Daisuke is manly, but bi."
               "Are you missing him?"
               "...It was nice to have a fuss made over me, I suppose."
               "There is no damned lake!"
               Taichi stamped into camp angrily. "No lake. No lake, no lake, no lake! Not even a stream!"
               Iori whispered to Takeru "Why is he so upset about not being near a lake?" Takeru told him. "Oh. Blimey."

Night had fallen completely. Stars plotted in secret, the moon ball chairing their meeting, laying out its vision of a new, golden age. The sky soon ran blood red, the new age peeping out from the safe house that was the horizon, waiting for the time to establish itself totally, gradually gaining power over the government, and over the people. Soon, it would have its empire, and the people would fly the flag, singing proudly, the praises of their new leader, their new emperor, their new chairman, their new president!
               The dawn light awoke Taichi. He yawned, and decided he'd go down to the lake. The stream. The... what was it? Then he remembered: there wasn't one. He mentally cursed. Next to him, Agumon snorted in his sleep, and rolled over.
               Stars lay invisible and dead in the blue sky. A cloud drifted across the sun. The campsite was impoverished by the removal of the life-granting electromagnetic waves, plants starving. The cloud shifted, the sun peeking past its edge, moving gradually out. Taichi shielded his eyes from the bright invasion of his retina. His eyes re-adjusted, blinking, as he removed the back of his hand from the light's path. His pupil shrunk in obedience of its new ruler.

Midday. Sun at the height of its power. Foliage and clouds providing shelter to the travelers, sun occasionally peeking in and dismissing the group. The band, grateful of the cool, plodded their path through the harsh and sweaty jungle.
               They were watched by a local. Like a federal agent, like a secret policeman, as gestapo, it watched, and followed. It even tapped their communications.
               Snippets. Words filtered through the leaves it hovered above. "I'll do it. I'll tell her today."
               "I should-" pause, as it lost communications through the thick canopy, "-Been tearing you up for months!"
               "I suppose-" "-relief."
               "Good-" Pause.
               "What if-" "-Rejects me? What if-" "-Hates me?"
               "I'll be-" "-For you."
               Upon its back the sun bore down. The heat of the light, the cold, calculating atmosphere servants chilling it, the contradiction of the cold and invisible agents of the warm, feeling sunlight, and the physical manifestation of the day ball's real intentions in itself, the spy.
               It buzzed, the cold air entering the invisible pours, betraying its silent wings. The party headed under a breach in the canopy, a large hole for the daylight to reign from, not yet covered by the competitive overgrowth of the forest. It took the chance, and dived.

Ken stopped sharing secrets. Kawagumon burst through the shelter, leaves whipping past him. His aim brought him swooping down a Mimi, who dived, and avoided the pincers.
               "Piyomon!" Called Sora.
               The pink bird led an emerald spiral assault on the crimson gestapo. Taichi had the awareness to have Greymon available, as Kuwagumon was staved off. A claw attempted to swat the cretin, and Kuwagumon darted to the side in an evasive maneuver, only to get a bite from a wolf. Garurumon growled, apologetically, and Flamdramon bade the beast a final farewell in the form of flames.
               The brief battle brought about the end to Kuwagumon's career. Data streams fled to rebirth and amnesia. One day in the future, this Kuwagumon would be hovering above the canopy and listening to the voices below. Spooky snippets, snippets that raised a faint headache and a faded memory. Kuwagumon would pass.
               Hikari rushed to Mimi, and helped her up. A grazed knee, a bruised elbow, but not too much damage.

Five of the clock. The sun was falling. It happened so gradually, it didn't notice the horizon stand up below it. It's regime based metaphors were coming to an end. The people came up once more, to remove the new tyrant, to fire the new boss, same as the old boss. The Chosen stumbled out of the jungle, and into a resort pool.
               And such was the Digital World. Unfortunate plains and jungles, inhospitable and cruel, punctuated by sudden spots of civilisation; a city, a kingdom, a phone box, a collection of television equipment. Strange boosts of familiarity to the people who weren't at home.
               "A hotel!" Squealed Mimi, "And look how tall it is!"
               The roof stretched toward the reddening sky of seven in early spring.
               "Yes, but what will it cost?" asked Jyou.
               "Isn't this supposed to be a camping trip?" asked Miyako.
               A Digitamamon hopped around the pool. "Thank you, thank you!" It said happily, bouncing on its lizard legs.
               Daisuke took a step back. It was far too close to him, and he was strongly reminded of all the humorous American films where the dog had a hormonal imbalance. It's quite scary having a hopping eggshell with glowing up-turned crescent eyes in front of you, especially when you compare it to one of those dogs.
               Kushiro elected himself as spokesman: "What for, sir?" He asked.
               "You got rid of that blasted Kuwagumon! Hooray, hooray, today is a wonderful day!"
               "For I have found my cow."
               Everyone gave Gatomon a look.
               "Sorry. It was a children's book I read."

So, they Chosen got to stay in the expansive, expensive hotel for free, as the soul guests, with free run of gyms, swimming pools, a restaurant, swimming pools, and, for some reason, a dairy. Everyone ignored that last room. Dairies are not interesting in hotels.
                Hikari lay down on the bed, with her dressing gown and slippers, and a complementary glass of sherry. She sipped it.
                "I still prefer Sake."
                The bed was fluffy, with a feather mattress and feather quilt and feather pillow. Hikari was very glad for the air conditioning: she was positively sure that homeostasis would become a chore under the duck-slaughter.
                 She picked up a leaflet in reception on the subject of things to do in the hotel. It was not too long. There was swimming, working out, eating, milking, and sleeping. You'd be amazed just how boring hotels could be. There was a bar, however. and it did have a stage for evening entertainment.

All the world's a stage. For Jyou, this was currently true. He stood on the elevated wooden platform, gazed around at the empty seats and tables. He looked at the currently un-staffed bar. The silence applauded him. He burst into a small song about a duck and a bag of mints. Then he stopped, as he thought that one to be rather silly.
                 "The Hedgehog, you know," he announced to the adoring emptiness, "Is very lucky, you know. For, you see..."
                 Somewhere, someone got the reference.

Daisuke played shy. "This cape is terribly triangular."
                 Ken giggled. "Two isosceles, no less!"
                 "Why am I dressed like this?" Asked Daisuke, peering through the blue lenses.
                 "Well, a while a ago, I said to myself, I couldn't truly love a-"

"-Man who couldn't dress up as the Digital Kaizer." Yamato finished.
                 "Still," said Taichi, "It just seems so ridiculous. These cuffs, honestly..."
                 "Taichi, for me."

Who could resist Ken's tones.
                  "Alright. For you."

Mimi lounged on a lilo. Sora floated next to her, on her back. It reminded Mimi of America, and of Florida, especially. Except, minus the bloody great hurricanes.
                  She'd had good times in America.
                  Good times.
                  "Mimi," said Sora, "I have something to tell you..."

Kushiro leaned over Miyako. The cape he was wearing brushed his backside. Ken, he decided, had a good taste in texture. Below him, Miyako fondled his testicles. He moaned, and placed a hand on her exposed breast. His clothes lay neatly on top of the drawers. Miyako's lay crumpled, where he had left them. He shared another secret.

Daisuke moaned into Ken's mouth. Their penises rubbed together, Ken's ten centimetres dwarfed by Daisuke's fourteen. Evidently, the Dark Seed was not a good as some people hope. You know who you are.
                  Their tongues danced a tango, and Ken massaged a nipple of his lover's through the shirt. It stood erect-

-Before Taichi, who gratefully took it into his mouth. Yamato moaned, quivering slightly. Taichi tickled that spot just above Yamato's base with his breathing. Taichi's pubic hair around his base were in direct contrast to Yamato, who was totally and luckily bald. Yamato bucked into-

-Miyako, writhing. Kushiro let her adjust, slightly. Then he bucked again. He was warm and tight-

-Inside Daisuke. "Take it, Kaizer boy!"
                  "Yes, master! Master!"
                  Ken reached around and pulled back Daisuke's foreskin, back and forth, wanking him, back and forth, pounding him rhythmically-

"I'm sorry, I'm not a lesbian."
                  "Not even bi?"
                  "No. I'm sorry, Sora."
                  "No, no, you can't help how you feel."
                  "Look, Sora, don't cry-"
                  "I'm not crying!"
                  "Come here."
                  Mimi hugged Sora tight. Sora sobbed into her bikini. It was very pleasant.
                  "Thank you... for not.... hating me."

-And causing her such sensations, oh, the sensations running through Miyako. She writhed up, and gave a gasp as-

-The orange hit him.
                   "Ow." Said Takeru. "Really. Don't do that."
                   He rubbed the back of his head. Patamon giggled, as he turned 'round to face him.
                   "If you want my attention, just ask."
                   "I did. Several times."
                   "Really?"
                   "Yep."
                   "Oh."
                   "You were thinking about Hikari again, weren't you?"
                   "...Yeah, I was."

Hikari hiccoughed.
                   "An, an, and then, right, get this... It turned out he was bi!"
                   Digitamamon nodded sympathetically.
                   "I know, I once loved a lesbian."
                   "You did?"
                   "Yup."
                   "Oh, you poor Digitamamon!"
                   "Nah, I got over it. So, he went off with a guy?"
                   "Yeah." She hiccoughed.
                   "So, you miss him?"
                   "I do!" She wailed. "He was so good at giving me attention!" She took another swig from the sherry bottle.
                   "But what about this boy, Takeru?"
                   "I like him, but he seems to be more of a friend... If either of them was going to run off with a guy, if you a-a-a-asked me three months ago, I'd say it'd-d-d be him."
                    She swayed on her stood.

Yamato panted. He'd already been all over the sheets, but Taichi kept pounding him. In, out, in, out, ruthlessly uncompromisingly unwavering in rhythm. Yamato was sweaty and hot and aching and beginning to hurt, and Taichi was sweaty and tired and frustrated. He gave up, and pulled out, collapsing on the bed.
                     "And yet again, I fail. I just won't cum."
                     Yamato cuddled him, taking the Kaizer goggles off of him, and slipping his arms under the cape and 'round Taichi's bare back. "It's alright. It's not your fault."
                     "But I can cum by myself! It's not fair! I want to cum with you!"

Ken groaned. Daisuke proved he wasn't water tight, and, with one final tug from Ken, he made the sheets a good deal stickier. The Kaizer trousers lay discarded at the foot of the bed, and the glasses were skew-whiff on the end of Daisuke's nose. Daisuke and Ken collapsed onto the soft bed.
                     "Blimey."
                     "We can do that again."
                     "Indeed."

Jyou stopped singing The Hedgehog Song. He bowed, and then was surprised to hear a small applause from one of the tables. He looked over the stage, and saw the Chosen companions sitting at a table. "Take them off!" Shouted Gabumon.

 

Hikari groaned, and held her head. She sat up. A new regime had been installed, bright and hopeful through the curtains. It was painful. She blinked in the light. Blink, blink. Bugger.

                     What did she do last night? She remembered a stage. She panicked, and checked herself. She breathed a sigh of relief. She was still wearing her clothes, and he dressing gown. Evidently, she had not stripped. It must have been karaoke. She remembered something about "Staying Alive", and a duet about a spiny mammal.

                     She briefly pondered just how many mammals actually got hangovers this horrible.

                     The bathroom welcomed her like an uncle.

 

 

Author's Notes.

 

Well then, some interesting things there. It's longer than my last piece, which I'm sure you're all happy about, and if you're not, then stuff you. I put in all this effort and you're so ungrateful... I'm jesting, obviously. Leave a comment, or something, on either the DaD or DHZ, let me know what you thought of the content and quality. I look forward to well-wishers and contructive critics. Destructive critics, however, do not clean up after themselvers. They are awful houseguests, and have terrible taste in ties.