Digimon Bar

[Frisk E. Coyote]

Shoutmon casually yanks the dagger out and produces a digital band-aid from his pouch, slapping it on Darkveemon's shoulder. A +500 hovers above the winged rookie's head as the knife wound and his other injuries vanish, followed by the band-aid disappearing.

"It pays to be prepared." He scritches Cyfer's chin and just now notices the cloaked figure sitting quietly at the end of the bar. He squints his eyes, trying to make the figure out, but it was hard to tell what kind of Digimon he or she was under the heavy, violet traveling cloak. Whoever it was had company, a far larger Digimon in an equally secretive traveling cloak, although this one was brown and a lot more tattered.

His eyes widened as he homed in on the first cloaked Digimon's chest. He recognized those bazoongas anywhere! He hopped off his booth and toddled over to the back, standing before the two cloaked figures enjoying tankards of beer in their own booth. "Mistress!" Shoutmon chuckles, bowing and getting down on one knee before pouncing the female.

Her hood fell, revealing the rose-like headgear of Mistress Rosemon, who laughed heartily and patted the rookie's head. "How goes your journey to becoming a man, my pupil?" She asks in a deep, soothing, velvety voice that was naturally seductive.

"I'm workin' on it!" Shoutmon stood up on their table as he produced his microphone weapon again. "You should see what I can do with this baby!"

"That's very nice, Shoutmon, now please get down from there so I can enjoy my drink." Said the second cloaked figure, easily towering over Shoutmon despite sitting down. He shucked his hood off, revealing his leonine features.

"Master Leomon!" Shoutmon beamed, kneeling down on the table before him. He was glad to see his masters out of the Digimon Academy and just being themselves. "Ooh! Ooh! Master Leomon! Wanna see my Fist of the Rocker King attack? I practiced a thousand times a day to make it look like my head!"

The Leomon stood up, clearing his throat, easily standing a good seven and a half feet. "That's very nice, my pupil. Excuse me. I suddenly have the urge to go out and take a deep breath." He said, and stepped out of the bar, the saloon doors swinging behind him.