thefolder | Merry Christmas, Chosen...

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Merry Christmas, Chosen...

Who: Venusmon, everyone
What: The giving of the D-Streams
Where: Terminal City, Roaming Park
When: December 25th, 2013, morning

At the stroke of midnight on December 25th, every Chosen and their partners fall asleep wherever they are, with nothing able to wake them. They won't stay there all night, however. Bright and early, as if turned on by a switch, the Chosen will awaken in their beds to find their Digivices missing. The individual Digimon -- those without rooms, brought in like the Chosen -- similarly fall into slumber or stasis, waking where the stand in the morning in the morning.

They will all wake up with a note in their rooms, written in beautiful script. "Come to Roaming Park," it says. There's some kind of noise outside. Something drawing everyone out. Noticeable first is the fall of snow, so far absent from Terminal Tokyo. It covers, among everything else, Roaming Park, where on a bench there sits a Venusmon, with a very large sack. Around her are tables full of all sorts of food, and Digimon there both partaking in it and setting up more. It's a whole feast, not spoiled by the weather, but enhanced by it.

[ooc: Below there will be a thread to interact with Venusmon, where she will answer some questions and give out the D-Streams. Every non-canon Digimon character will receive a D-Stream, whether they see her or not. At the end of the day, they will appear in the Chosen's hands. This can also be used to generally mingle with each other and enjoy the snow.]

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If one thing is certain, that is definitely that Arcee wouldn't even be here if it weren't for the fact that her shit was stolen. At least that's what she believed happened, what else could it be? She would much rather be at her apartment right now, trying to get over her god awful cold.

As such, she's currently bundled up in an almost ridiculous way. Snow, ladies and gentleman, sucks and she's doing everything she can right now not to feel it. That includes a ridiculously thick coat, large boots, and ear muffs to keep the warm in. No one said she was an expert when it came to human fashion, friends. It shows.

In her arms is the smaller of her two Tapirmon, the little girl who is much more well behaved. Sprocket stands next to her, whining like an anxious puppy, wanting to play and eat and do normal winter time activities.

But no. There is no merriment here. Just one grown ass woman who would like her digi-dingle-whatsit so she can continue fighting please.

"A-Arcee...? A-Are you okay?"

Fluttershy had approached her, eager to give Arcee her gift. But seeing her sullen mood worried her a bit.

It's a mood Arcee often likes to be in. One learns to get used to it. Thankfully, Arcee's learned to lighten up on the death glares when it comes to her friends checking up on her.

"I've been better," she gives a surprisingly defeated sigh.

"Arcee's been under the weather for quite awhile," her smaller Tapirmon replies as she swings in her partner's arms. "I'm honestly surprised she didn't bite your head off."

"That's because they're friends, genius," Sprocket can't help but seem annoyed over having to point that out.

The smaller one looks like she's trying to shrink once she's corrected, looking away and folding her ears back.

"Sorry..."

"Oh...I'm sorry...I didn't know you were sick...Are you keeping warm enough?"

Arcee forces herself to smile, punishing Sprocket quickly in the form of a swift kick for upsetting her minitapir. No one saw that. ...No one.

"I'll live," is all she can say on the subject.

"Mm..." She reaches into her bag and pulls out a box with Arcee's name on it. Holding it for a moment, she then holds it up to her.

"I'm not sure if it'll help much, but...this is for you..."

Finding herself taken aback, Arcee stares at Fluttershy in silent shock for a very awkward minute. She...she got her something? Really? Very rarely did Arcee get gifts, what is even the proper way of receiving one?

"Oh, I...I can't," it's probably not this way. "I don't have anything for you."

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strengthinkindness - 2013-12-31 04:57 (UTC) - Expand

Ever since learning about her cold (define 'learning', it's more like 'oh god she's broken'), Wheeljack had actually been trying to make things easier for her. Slowly, the Wrecker was learning the meaning of being a partner, as well as a significant other, and opening up seemed to be the key to doing that.

And with this...he took to the library.

He's not nearly as dressed up as she is, only in his ratty jeans and ugly sweater, but he finds her, wandering over with a medium-large container in his hand, and something tucked under his shoulder. Already it's pretty worrying.

"Hey, didn't expect you to show, after how I saw ya earlier."

Wheeljack is a welcoming sight. At least she knows now if she were to fall over, someone would be here to pick her up. And hold her. ...Close. ...And maybe do some other things.

"Trust me, I don't want to be here," she can't stress this enough. "If someone didn't steal my device, I'd still be sitting in my room, nice and warm."

She misses warm.

Her attention is soon drawn to whatever it is he's carrying. Please don't tell her he brought explosives to the party.

"So what's with the cargo?"

You know he'd do all of the above, Arcee, even if you're sick. Partially because he doesn't exactly understand the biology and mechanics behind behind being sick. Just that she's got to get better.

"Soon as ya get it, head home. Get me if ya want company."

He'd offer you his coat he's not using, but you're covered in that area. But when her attention turns to the container, his face spreads into a smile.

"Somethin about a human holiday. Ya give somethin' to important people. Partners match up with the criteria."

Those hands hold it out for her, to take. It's warmth radiates slightly through the not-tupperware, so it was made just before coming, at least.

Arcee can't help but look suspicious. Anything Wheeljack's carrying that's warm can't be good.

"Since when did you give a scrap about human holidays?" she knew she didn't.

Also she still seems to believe he's carrying an explosive.

Hey, not EVERYTHING he makes is dangerous. Just 90% of it.

"You know me. All that bonding, friendship scrap Team Prime's all about." That sounds weird when he says it, giving a chuckle and scrubbing a hand over his face.

But when he looks back at her, he's all smiles.

"Figured since I got a partner I oughta treat her special. And You wants me to get rid of all these."

To which he nods his head towards all the sweaters he bought. It was a good investment at the time.

"Arcee?"

The words come from Optimus... who is similarly bundled up. He's successfully drug Coronamon out, who is of course not bothered at all by the cold, but Monodramon is nowhere to be found.

Underneath his arm is a sizable package.

"It seems this world shares Earth's custom of gift giving in celebration of... the 25th of the month of December," he said. "I have purchased you something."

"I helped pick it out," Coronamon bragged.

If there's one thing that can make Arcee less miserable, it's Optimus. Just hearing his deep voice makes her jump in surprise, standing herself straighter when she turns to him in an attempt to make herself more presentable.

"Optimus!" she almost acts as though she was caught misbehaving. "I, uh..."

She looks at his gift and frowns. Not because she hates it, oh no, but because she didn't think to do the same. Way to go, Arcee.

"I...I can't take that," her head shakes a little. "I didn't get you anything."

"... It does not matter whether you got me anything," Optimus said, doing his best to smile. "I am simply glad... glad you are st- here."

Yes, he almost said "still". Clearly, he was thinking of recently departed friends.

"Seeing you appreciate a gift to you would be more than enough for me, Arcee."

Gently taking the gift, Arcee runs her hand across it once before giving him another doubtful look. She knows he's telling the truth, Optimus seemed like the kind of person who would give without caring about receiving, and yet here she was still feeling terrible.

Without a word she begins to unwrap the package, a slight curiosity pushing her on and the only thing in her mind telling her that this is okay.

Optimus stood there, smiling, waiting for her to open it. The smile is rather fatherly looking, and somewhat expectant... it seems the holiday sprit has brought out the cheer even in an alien (former) robot.

Once Arcee opened it, she would find a jacket in robot forms colorscheme, suitable for the current weather.

You may think you look ridiculous, Arcee, but Leatherhead looks pretty over the top with his red and neon orange sweater that could almost put out eyes.

Nevertheless he looks pretty happy. Any why not? He had people he genuinely liked around. And this was the first Christmas he spent together.

Duke has Monodramon carrying him around, following Leatherhead. Monodramon had no complaint in carrying the digimon. In fact, he seems more than happy to do it.

Leatherhead approaches Arcee, carrying his present behind his back. Maybe this'd help?

"Arcee...I have a gift for you."

"I..."

Why was everyone getting her presents? ...Okay, fine, holidays, but it just wasn't something she was used to. And here she is, with nothing to give in return. Do you know how that makes her feel? Absolutely awful.

Standing there in her mix of frozen awe and shock, Sprocket decides to answer for her.

"She says "Ohhh, thank you, Leatherman. Please hand it over."

Leatherhead looks at Arcee, unsure what to make of her reaction. Did she feel insulted somehow? Did he scare her? Did she even celebrate this holiday?

Duke snidely remarks, "Looks like she's saying uhhhhhh."

Hesitant, he eventually hands the unwrapped presents over: two kitchen knives, while small and homely looked good enough for anything. He figured someone like her would like it.

"...you do not need to take them, if you do not like it."

"No, no..." she holds up her hands once, as if telling him to stop that line of thought right this instant young man. "I love it. I don't even know what it is yet and I already love it. Good job."

Ever so reassuring.

Taking it, she opens the gift up right in front of him just so he can see how much she loves it, soon surprised to see that the present happens to be weaponry of some kind. ...Or kitchenware. Who knows, humans are weird.

"Oh wow," Leatherhead sure knew what she liked. Sharp pointy things. "You know...I didn't get you anything, right?"

Are you sure, momcee? Because Leatherhead doesn't want to give you something you hate. Honestly, what did she even mean by that, "...thank you?"

But as she opens it, he trusts that she likes it. After all, she and Wheeljack seemed to like combat. A lot.

He nodded, smiling, "It is alright."

Monodramon added, "You're enough of a gift!"

"Arcee?"

Juri almost doesn't recognize the robot-turned-woman with her garish attire, but she stops when she sees her. As someone more used to cold, Juri's more appropriately dressed, in fitting boots and mittens and ear muffs and the like. Behind her, Leomon walks dutifully, needing nothing more to keep him warm...or maybe having nothing in his size. It's slightly comical.

"It is you!" She says after getting a better look. "I'd recognize Sprocket's whine anywhere."

It's in jest, Sprocket, really.

"I don't whine! I tell it like it is," Sprocket notes with a tone of superiority.

Arcee turns Juri's way, doing her best to look happy despite feeling the exact opposite. If it's one thing a kid doesn't deserve, it's her winter-related wrath. See? She can be reasonable.

"At this rate I'm willing to believe everyone was dragged out here."

Juri simply kneels down and pets Sprocket's head. What a cute little Digimon.

"Well, of course!" She looks up."You all lost your Digivices, right? I bet that's why most people are here." There's a giggle. "Or the food."

"It is an impressive collection," Leomon adds, trying to make conversation. He's not good with casual conversation either.

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