Freedom's Feeling Stifling [Ikou, Kimura]

What a truly lovely night, yet another celebration of their overwhelming success. However, not all truly knew how to celebrate just as Kimura intended. Exactly why he roams the dance floor on some of these nights, truly caring for the well being of others. Probably moreso than some of these animals cared for themselves. Walking through the dance floor, the man had been wearing casual attire on this night; Slimming black henley with the top button of three undone, midnight blue chinos cuffed near his ankles, some basic dress shoes he couldn't care less about. If there's one thing he learned from throwing party after party, it was that he shouldn't bring any of his expensive clothes. Do you know how many times he's had his shoes scuffed from being stepped on in wild crowds or getting alcohol spilled on him because some asshole thinks that's what the balcony is for?

"I DON'T WANNA WORK TODAY! MAYBE I JUST WANNA STAY!
JUST TAKE IT EASY 'CAUSE THERE IS NO STRESS!"

The DJ was actually killing it tonight, not that Kimura could take time to admire the work of this disc jockey they hired. Gonna have to make sure they keep his name on a list, seems to have really studied his craft in a way the King of the Royals liked. After a moment, the thought left his head as he kept walking through the dance floor on the first level of their venue, starting to really get into the thick of things. As he kept moving around the ever increasing crowd, the annoyance of everyone's body heat piled on top of him, along with the idiotic behavior of his own people. Kimura was never one to tell anyone not to enjoy themselves and have a good time, but there were some rules he liked to follow. One of them was not to do it at the expense of other people; just because you're having a good time doesn't mean someone wants to spend their good time with you.

Which brings us to this drunk ass bitch trying to grind on him, the look on her face was absolutely revolting. 'Why is it that every party or rave, whenever I go through the crowd, someone finds it appropriate to touch me?' Kimura thought to himself. Yes, it made sense that he, as an attractive and powerful male would be the first pick. Obviously most of these people could pick him out no matter how far gone they were on alcohol or drugs. Didn't mean he found this in any way, shape, or form acceptable. When will they get it through their thick skulls that he is simply above them, their wants, their needs, their desires? After a set of seconds that dragged on too long for him, he gave her a light shove and a sharp tone of voice, "No." Didn't care if she could hear him, he was already headed out.

Soon, he would be entering towards the middle of the crowd, only to be further disgusted by how some of these clowns behaved. Yes, he always referred to each and every one of them as a prince or princess, but tonight it seemed they were more like jesters. What is with this absolute debauchery of getting completely shitfaced and thinking you could just slam your body into anyone around you? As he watched this one partygoer get a little too worked up in the music, Kimura lifted the walkie talkie that previously had been hooked too his belt. "Yeah, can someone get this asshole a seat and some water? He's far passed gone. Middle right, roger," A very serious command that his men knew all too well, escort this gentleman right out of his fucking sights.

Outside of the generally pathetic way some of these people acted, it wasn't all too bad. Fights hadn't broken out, never had they been a common occurrence. Most of the times, He'd dealt with people too lost in the sauce having a glorified shoving match. Some people may've been getting a little too deep into their cup, but they'd be with their friends and wouldn't want to be on a blacklist. Most of these people honestly kept to themselves, except for the lonely and desperate, thinking they can find love at clubs and parties. As he worked his way out of the crowd, the accomplished man decided his shift was done and headed upstairs to fill his own cup. Nothing too reckless tonight, he wasn't in the mood.

"IT'S NOT THAT I'M LAZY; I THINK I'M JUST CRAZY!
IT'S NOT THAT I'M LAZY; I THINK I'M JUST CRAZY!"

Taking his walk up the stairs passed a couple of 'resting' individuals and a private make-out session, he'd soon be at the bar and getting his order prioritized. Not like anyone's going to mind him getting his shot of tequila first, they knew it was King Kimura after all. Taking his shot and downing it without hesitation, he left the glass and took a seat on the nearby couch, not really spying much except for the black pup resting themselves in all the noise. There was some abruptly skittish girl throwing away her plate, but he wasn't paying her any mind. Seems like she wanted to be alone for the most part. Placing his head back against the cushion, the man sighed and just let his body loosen for a moment. He wasn't tired yet, but there wasn't a feeling of enjoyment that he sought tonight. Honestly, what was his actual plan?

It seemed that he filled his cup a tad too early, but alas. One shot wouldn't hurt him, but for some reason, it became enticing afterwards. You can never stop at just one, which was demonstrated by one of the guests in front of them. Seems he lost his footing in the excitement of the chase and stumbled on an amphibian digimon. The social climate they experienced wasn't entirely ready for them, but to shelter their existence would be a further mistake. That's why Kimura never entirely got upset about them being outside of their specific area, some of them were more attached to their human counterpart than their digital brethren.  However, when such a reaction occurs, it's bound to catch all others off guard, just as that man had been.

During the incident, the prime digidestined was looking over to the arm rest of his couch and exchanging greetings with another digimon. Once again, not in the area he'd enjoy to view them in, but there was still no ill will. The young man nodded his head back in courtesy, "Good evening, young princess." Before he could give her a comforting embrace-- or as others would call it, pet her-- a man had been shoved to the floor. Snapping his head back in the direction of the conflict, he'd be watching one of his members boast their privileges to the obviously hammered  partygoer. It's always one thing after another, but watching one of his own flex their status was something that tired him these days. Who exactly was the last person besides himself to accomplish anything worth a 'damn' in their social club?

"NO NEED TO FIGHT AGAINST MY FEELINGS!
BECAUSE THE LIFE IS NOT DEPRESSING!"

The music continued to blast throughout the area, quite a marvelous speaker system they had. Sadly, it couldn't contain the situation surrounding them, it was quite obvious more than a few of the unaligned would be watching them and speculating. Digimon might be a naturally occurring phenomena to them, but the rest of the world viewed it with this morbid curiosity. The same kind of morbid curiosity that drives people to create a negative image in their mind, sponsored by media watchdogs. The spectacle was enough for tonight, there was no reason for further escalation; The man was getting ready to raise himself in an effort to counter-shove this lady. Before the drunkard could find his feet, Kimura had made his words law, "You. Dance floor is downstairs. If you're gonna make an idiot of yourself, then do it downstairs."

That was the only enforcement needed on his part, words cutting sharp like a knife. Despite the overwhelming sound bumping off the bass, the reaction was clear enough. The man, noticing that another party decided to involve themselves in his dispute, could have decided to get angry with them. However, even the wasted can understand why this would be a terrible idea and just shrugged as he took his leave, albeit sluggishly. Now there was the problem of this lady & her digimon, two people who should know better than to ruin these gatherings. Royals may have gotten in for free, but a decent amount of the money is returned at the door as the 'uninvited' turn up. They may know what's going on in Tokyo's underground scene, but they don't really understand or accept it.

It's hard to remind these new age tamers that their digimon are still being treated like second class citizens, with a whole organization willing to remove you from society for any mistakes. Thankfully, this was not like one of those, there wasn't as large of an impact and nothing had to be repaired. Escalation of the problem wouldn't bode well for either parties, most of the damage would be done to those whose views are unclear on digital creatures. Clearing his throat, Kimura took the reigns once more, "Hey, escort your digimon to their area and come back. He's too big to stay out here. What is he, 30kg?" Maybe it was a little rude to assume the weight of her partner, but it wasn't like he'd be far off in this estimate.

Let's see how this girl decides to play with a straight order right after boasting her status in their group. Would she easily humble herself and chose to follow the will of what is correct, or will she try to gain clout by showing less than courteous manners? Kimura honestly couldn't remember who this girl exactly was, but then again, there's very few other members that have actually spoken to him one on one now. Everyone seemed so afraid of their king, but what had caused such a disconnect? Was he getting old? Nah, he's still cool, nothing has changed about him since the start of puberty.

The reaction was a bit disheartening, although not a feeling he misunderstood from the tamer & her digimon. She just wanted to stay with him, which is fair. No rule specifically said humans cannot go to the digimon side and hang out there; Just that digimon of a certain size couldn't linger on the human side. That's why he didn't mind Ikou on the couch, she was around 5kg if not less and generally took up as much space as a fresh born pup. Honestly, the biggest worry on her part was some sorority sister from a nearby college picking her up and making her their unofficial mascot. The expression that Kaida's face, tone, and body language held wasn't one that remained pleased with the situation, but had complied regardless.

It was like scolding a child for doing the right thing the wrong way, it hurts all parties involved but must be done. At this moment, she was being called over to the couch by the young digimon near them, probably planning on comforting her. Kimura wasn't going to do similarly, instead clearing the air on why things happened the way they did, "Does it look like I care if you decked the guy? Honestly, you could go downstairs right now and pop him one and I wouldn't move from this couch. This isn't about who deserved it, this is about protocol. You know better; everyone here knows better. If your digimon has a weight above 20kg, it has to be in its specified area. I could give less of a shit if that guy gets hurt for acting like a dumbass-- He probably fell on his face the way downstairs. This is about reputation."

One of his personal beliefs within the Royals is that they represent his reputation-- That of power and of the judgement that stems from it. There was a reason he was fit to be called a king, destiny allowed for such a role. "At the end of the day, do I want news coverage about how the Royals are a violent and malicious group that uses digimon to fuel the underlying violence in Tokyo? No, because we aren't fucking Anathema. Now, if one of those assholes want all the smoke, let them have it. They'll get there's. However, until I rightfully own Tokyo the way I should, we're not gonna stop getting stories about how digimon are terrible creatures that shouldn't be accepted by our society."

Is he really lecturing someone when he's supposed to be hosting a party? Is that what this evening has come to? Whatever, he was feeling the tension in his body loosen as he tore into her disrespectful display. Yeah, her digimon was right, she did do nothing wrong. Doesn't mean she did anything right either. "So, you can stop acting selfish and go hang out with him in the digimon room or grab a drink and cool right the fuck off," An idea Kimura was thinking about doing himself. What would be wrong with another shot of tequila? Not like he was doing anything truly productive. Even if this conversation lead her to understand him better, neither of them really benefit because the cause and effect did not change whatsoever.

Whether she chose to join them or not didn't matter to him, like he said earlier. She could go right downstairs, take that man outside, and beat the living shit out of him. Wouldn't impact the current political climate regarding digimon. The Royals protect their own and as long as no eyewitnesses see one of their digital partners around, it made it all that much easier. One could say he was harassing her, trying to put his hands on her, and that she was just defending herself. It was what she was doing earlier, if you consider her betamon to be an extension of her identity. Probably the only admirable mentality a tamer could have, understanding that it is a part of them that will stay forever. Sadly, most of these people would never have the experience he did, but maybe that was for the better.

Of course, as with any child getting lectured they wished not to respond in fear of further discourse. Honestly, Kimura could go on for days about the ramifications of their idiotic society and how restrictive it was. You think he just came back from the digital world with open arms? Nay, they were forced open by his newly hardened mentality grasped by thoughts of the possible realities. The inclusion of digimon in every day life had shaken the foundations of nature to its very core and that absolutely scared those with no experience. It was like a form of racism that was impossible to tackle because it had no perceived shape. Maybe species-ism is a far better term.

However, even with his genuine explanation, there still came the question of when this supposed freedom would come. Whether it was in their grasp or not. While, yes, they did have a generally overwhelming support among tamers, their group wasn't as exclusively for them as he wanted it to be. Some stragglers remained in the likes of the Heralds, the No Namers, & even a few chose to work directly against them in the splinter cell of HYPNOS. Everyone's ideals seemed at odds with one another, which lead to the modern conflict they've had brewing for over ten years. It seemed that they were at the end of the their rope with the current system homogenizing itself.

"Look, if I really wanted to, I could go overthrow the government on my own. Would that actually serve to our purpose though? No. You can't just own the land; I would know, I literally own the property we're in. Even though I own this place, does everyone here like the existence of digimon?" The rhetorical question could be answered by looking just a bit back into the evening with the event that caused this conversation. Most people still didn't know what they were seeing when a digimon appeared, just because of the fact that so many exist. On one hand, you can get really used to a certain sub-species and then it simply changes through the nature of digivolution.

People just needed to understand the base idea of digimon & their inner workings, how their minds and personalities were no different of their own. That was the entire crux of their message, yet no one really saw it because so much goes on in their faction. It was even harder to hear that this tamer didn't enjoy other humans, just other digimon like it had been doing with Ikou. It was genuine, but it wasn't the same kind of unity he'd hoped for. You have to be able to enjoy the company of both to create a true harmony in this world.

Kimura decided to stand, pushing his feet to cause his knees to straighten from their original seated position. He'd lean over to one side, a little closer to them as he stretched his back, "There are ideas to consider and no reason to rush into them. Soon enough though, before the year is over, there will be one less faction." It was quite an ominous set of words with no real conclusion. It didn't need one, they just needed the idea in their head that something, anything, will change. It creates this anxiety that burgeons a passion, especially if one is already willing to fight for their cause. All it needed now was a way to occur, a catalyst to set the work into motion and fully revitalize the maddened machine.

The king himself would return to the bar and down another shot without much thought, without much plans of returning to his previous conversation. He had to spread his words elsewhere, there were more people who needed to know what was going to happen. All said as vaguely as he just did, with no extra information attached on who, how, or what. They only knew when and where right now: Before the end of the year; In Tokyo. The pressure itself will cause the actions to stir.