HOLIDAY ARRIVALS.

[terminalrookies]

Characters: Everyone! (Only new arrivals are allowed in the Terminal Room)
When: Starting December 3rd, 2013
Where: Terminal Room or all over town!
What: An open mingle log for everyone to play in!

It has been a long November, and the weather is starting to get colder, a side-effect of the worlds merging. Maybe it's welcome, maybe it's a hindrance, but a rumble rises at the start of the day, signalling new Chosen are starting to arrive. Culumon bounces about the Terminal Room, lonely after waiting so long. Stepping outside, the Chosen will find a bit of a mess before them. The city's been through a lot lately.

Outside the Main Terminal, there is a bin with pamphlets to help supplement the information received on the new Chosen's D-Terminals. The information is...a little bit outdated, with last month's troubling reveals.

OOC: Feel free to mark your characters in different locations! They can be just arriving in the Terminal Room you read about in the arrival post or anywhere on the map! Also feel free to mark the day for each thread. You can also request to play with Culumon, too! Have fun, guys!

Comments

[heroofbrightwall]

Most of the streets in the city were filled with piles of debris separated by usefulness while people were working towards repairing the damaged buildings. Not a lot of people were helping aside from Digimon, mostly because the Chosen were recovering from the fights.

Rowan was not included in that number.

"Alright. I think that's enough for one day!" called an accented voice from around the corner of the building. "Let's put the rest over here and head in for a meal."

The rattle of rocks and squeak of wheels closed on the pale man's position quite suddenly, announcing the arrival of a dirty, sweaty young man with a mess of brown curls, a white armored knight and a waddling tadpole. They all stopped when the brunette saw the man.

"Oh! Goodness, I'm terribly sorry. We were just about to dump the rocks over here..." he paused, blinking large eyes owlishly. "Are you alright? You're not injured are you?"

"Be careful, milord," the knight murmured warily, stepping forward protectively.

"What? Oh nonsense, Walter. The man is obviously unwell," the dirty young man replied, setting the legs of the wheelbarrow down and weaving between the two Digimon to approach the man and his Elecmon, bowing politely in courtly fashion.

"My name is Rowan. These are my knights, Ser Walter and Ser Piper. Can we...help you, somehow?"

[blatantlies]

The blond blinked a moment at the young man. It had been a while since he'd last seen a European; he'd forgotten how tall they could be. No matter.

He rose gracefully to his feet and returned the polite bow. Elecmon opted for a considerably more casual salute. What an odd pair they made, the small monster only accenting the already small and delicate look of their partner.

"I am uninjured, thank you. I simply needed a moment to adjust."

"It's always a bit rough for new Chosen when they first get here, right?" It brought a paw up and added in a stage whisper, "I think he's a bit queezy and just doesn't want to admit it."

Had he been anyone else, the peddler might have automatically protested that in some small way out of embarrassment. Instead he remained as deadpan as before, watching for Rowan's reaction.

[heroofbrightwall]

Rowan wasn't that tall. Well. Not for some people in Albion, anyways. His brother and Reaver still seemed to loom over him, but maybe that was a matter of presence more than actual stature?

"Well, 'queezy' or not, I welcome you to this place and invite you to join us in our repast," the young man offered cheerily, holding a gloved hand out.

"Oh!," he stopped, jerking the hand back suddenly. "My apologies, I'm filthy! How rude," he mumbled, tugging the fingers of the glove loose and pulling it off to extend a clean, pale hand calloused from honest labor and swordplay.

"That's great. If were done with all the flowery talk and fancy gestures, can we all get inside and get some food already? I want a bath."

"Of course, Piper. Why don't you go on ahead with Ser Walter? I can stay with our friend here."

"Milord, I must protest--"

"Protest away! It changes very little. Please escort Piper to the dining hall. I doubt fellow Chosen are interested in ill deeds. I will join you shortly. Hopefully with company."

"As you wish, milord."

Rowan waits patiently as the two Digimon march off, leaving him with the blonde and his Elecmon.

[blatantlies]

To be fair to Rowan, most everyone was tall compared to the Medicine Seller.

The offered hand was a bit of a source of confusion though; what was he to do with it? Was he suppose to take it? It seemed a friendly enough gesture, but he saw no real reason to return it.

In lieu of that, the human received a nod.

"We shall accompany you for the time being. I am... unused to cities such as this."

"And we all could use some food, right?" Elecmon cheerfully chimed in.

[heroofbrightwall]

He had a moment to look down at his hand with a frown, wondering if it was still too dirty, then just assumed the other man was not the touchy sort. Fine by him and no offense taken.

"If it helps, I'm not really used to this either. Where I come from is pretty big - at least I thought. But the buildings here are pretty remarkable. And there's electricity everywhere without huge cost and hydraulics or anything. You get used to it. I think its pretty nice. Much less messy and smokey than my own home. Its been explained to me that what my country is in is called an industrial age. Mostly steam and coal and oil and rudimentary machines," the young royal offered, clapping his hands together and dusting them off before raking fingers through his hair and pulling curls away from his face.

"If you follow me I'll make sure you get to the apartments alright, and take you down to the dining hall. They call it a cafeteria. I don't know the word myself, but if anyone ever mentions it, now you know what it is," he chimed in that ever cheery manner.

"So, my name is Rowan. What should I call you two? Or...are you in need of some sort of discretion? I can be discreet."

He certainly didn't look like it.

[blatantlies]

The question was met with a look of genuine - if mild - surprise from the smaller man.

"You are asking a simple medicine peddler's name?"

In all his years, not a single person had thought to ask his name; not specifically. His occupation had always sufficed.

Elecmon clearly had not been informed of this.

"Well yeah. I might not have one yet, but names are a big deal to Chosen, right? Of course Rowan wants to know."

"...I suppose."

[heroofbrightwall]

"Well...I don't really believe there is such a thing as a simple medicine peddler," he replied, blinking owlishly.

"Besides that, what kind of man doesn't ask another man his name? Everyone matters, and a name carries a great deal of weight. If you don't want me to have it, that I can understand and respect, of course."

[blatantlies]

"I'm afraid I cannot recall it. 'Medicine Seller' has always sufficed for others addressing me before now."

For once, that was the truth. It had been far too long to be able to recall his name, if ever he had possessed on of his own. Perhaps it was just as well; a name you do not know cannot be used against you if you do not wish it.

"EH?! You lost it?!"

[heroofbrightwall]

"That's sad," the Prince murmured with a faint sigh before perking up and shrugging. "Well, why not find a name you like? Unless Medicine Seller is what you like? Its a bit of a mouthful really. Kind of hard to yell in a crisis situation and its not very romantic is it?"

He leaned back and dusted himself off, pacing for a moment and humming while he walked.

"What about Tristan? Or uh...Uriel. No no. SANTAGAR! Wait that's silly. Snow? Wisp? Pearl? Alabaster? Winter? Goodness, I'm terrible at this..."