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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He gives a blink at the both of them, then glances at Nes first with a raised eyebrow before he grins, albeit just a little too widely,

"It's just boring old cider. The hot chocolate they've got is waaaaay better."

All the same, he slides both mugs of wassail slightly more over to himself and then sets Cody down.

"S'matter of fact, how 'bout you guys and gals go get yourselves some hot cocoa and enjoy the snow a little. H'after all, you've all been huge helps handing out gifts today, y'oughta go have some fun!"

Sylvia nodded as she scooted back from Chris, with a final soft pat to his side. Hopping off the bench, she reached up and patted her paw on Nes' tail while she walked to join Adele and Cody.

"Yes, come along. I'd love to get some hot chocolate."

Nes grinned broadly at that, but there was still one little stopping point. He glanced 'round at Chris and leaned in a little, but was grinning again when there was the slightest nod from him. Bounding backwards off the table, he walked off with the other Digimon, wondering aloud if they had different flavors and which one he should get.

If he'd had the wherewithal to, he'd have sent Sylvia an especially grateful smile, but instead he just grinned widely at her and nodded his agreement, waving them off.

Once they were well out of earshot, he turned back around, sliding the mug of wassail back in front of his brother.

"Seriously though, dude, h'you should try it. It's reeeally goooooood."

His tone was still a little sing-songy.

"H'nice and warm still too."

Speaking of nice and warm, Martin's looking rather cozy himself now in a sweater vest that matches Chris's. ...Save that it's got blue instead of green.

Chris shook his head in response, whuffling out a sigh that rippled a nearby strip of stray ribbon left from a random gift earlier.

"Nnmh. 'mokay, bro. Eh'dunwanniny."

All said without lifting his chin from the table, of course, which is why most of it came out as a single slurred word.

He took a good long sip of his mug, before giving a small laugh.

"Bro, you are gonna have to not mumble. H'my hearing isn't what it used to be."

His hearing isn't what it used to be a few hours ago, mostly due to the constant crowd noise and an extra mug ~~or two~~ of that wassail.

"S'rr."

That might've been an apology of some sort. Chris, not lifting your head to say that is counter-productive to... oh nevermind.

His eyelids lower a little as he stares off somewhere ahead of him. Whatever's eating at him, he looks more blue than his brother does, which is saying something considering the former isn't even literal.

His eyebrow raises a little, before he slumps down in his seat to match his brother's posture. It's a little more ungainly since he's taller, but he manages to set his chin on the table, same as Chris's, before glancing over at him with a sympathetic look.

"Wut's th'matter, Chris? Usually I'm th' one who has a blue Christmas."

Wordplay is fun.

Chris glanced aside, and there was a ghost of a smile before he looked off again, expression falling once more. He sighed, silent for a few moments, not sure where to start. Or whether even to start at all. But, knowing Martin would weasel it out of him one way or another...

"Fl'ttershy has feelin's fer me." Then, as if that wasn't enough of a justification for his mood, "'n ran'off af'er tellin' me."

Oh.

OH.

...Oh. ...He should have brought more wassail.

"Did'nt g't a chance to say anything back?"

Rhetorical question since it sounds like that's what happened. He tried for a small laugh.

"H'aren't you usually th' one who likes to th'nk about what you're gonna do next though?"

Trying for an upside here, Bro.

He heaved a sigh, finally sitting up, if only to fold his arms on the table and thunk his forehead down on one forearm. Then wince a moment later and rub the spot because ow, that was a buckle on the brace beneath one glove.

"That's my problem though. I don't know what TO do." He turned to look beside him, all the mixed up emotion clear on his face. "This has never happened to me, bro. I mean sure, I tried calling her, but she didn't pick up..." Which had resulted in a brief conversation with her Digimon, but he didn't feel like going into it right now.

"You should have seen her, Martin..." He sighed, resting the side of his head on the pillow of his arms. "She looked so scared when she ran off, and so embarrassed... I don't know what to do."

He brought his own arms up, sneaking a sip of his wassail before folding his arms under his chin with a lot less wincing than his brother.

"Honestly, it kinda sounds like she doesn't know what to do either, Bro."

Darned as if he had any idea what to do for that matter.

"Y'don't think it's just the Florence Nightingale effect, huh?"

...Wait, no, wouldn't it be the reverse of that? ...What do they call that again?

"Transference?" Oh there we go, that was the reverse. Chris sat up to lean on his uninjured hand, a finger of the other running around the rim of his mug. "I thought of that, but... I don't know."

His eyes ticked over, still carrying his heart in them. "I'd have to talk to her to figure out more, but she's not talking to me right now. Or anybody, probably. That's... what it sounded like from her partners, anyway."

Okay, that was a little concerning. Not talking to Chris was one thing, but not talking to anybody kinda suggested something was wrong. Then again...it kinda sounded like Fluttershy had really put herself out there and then immediately panicked, which was understandable.

His expression softened into a reassuring smile.

"She probably just needs a little time..."

He sat up a little to take another sip of his wassail before hunkering back down.

"The holidays are stressful, dude...h'never mind all the other stuff everybody here's had to deal with. And Fluttershy's been working really hard lately..."

She organized a party for him and made them both sweater vests, and he's sure those weren't the only gifts she made this month.

"H'and don't forget, she's still recovering from a broken wing..."

Granted she was mostly healed by now, but it was still an extra thing to consider.

"I think anybody'd be a little over-whelmed with all that...don't you?"

"Yeah, I think so too. I'm just... worried about her, y'know?"

He scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed shortly. "Fluttershy's a great friend..." But was she? Or was she more? His back-and-forth over that might flicker, for just a moment, across his features before he picked up and moved on. "And I don't wanna jeopardize that by pressing too hard. But at th' same time I wanna talk to her, and."

Stopping short, he rubbed one eye with his hand, grunting lightly. "I don't know what to do..."

"Heh'and y'don't think Fluttershy's worried about the exact same thing, considering what she just told you?"

That question is delivered lightly, but his expression suddenly shifts to about as serious as he'd probably ever been all evening.

"Look, Chris...before you talk to her, you should probably do what you're really good at, and think about this."

Martin could make decisions in a snap. Admittedly, they weren't always the best ones, but that was his style. And his style was not his brother's style. The last thing he wanted was his own quick decision-making affecting his brother's relationships, especially since it seemed Chris was asking him what he thought he should do. This really wasn't his call to make.

"There's a loooooot a lot a lot a lot a lot of stuff to consider here, h'that you should probably work out for yourself before you talk to her again."

"I knoww... That's what I'm trying to do." Chris sat back, gesturing from side to side with his hands. "Going this way, that way... When I said I didn't know what to do, part of that is not knowing that I do."

Wow, that sounded asinine. He rubbed his eyes with one hand and waved the other. "What I mean is, what do... I.. do next this isn't coming out right." An eyeroll and a sigh.

"Martin, I don't know what to do about her... Her feelings." Chris rested his hands in the space between his thighs, leaning forward until his upper arms were against the edge of the table, and he looked beside him. "Both about me and in general. I know there's a lot to consider, bro. Different world, different species, different age..."

He let out a miserable noise, lowering his head until it touched the tabletop again. "This would be a lot easier if I had a reply for her in the first place, whether it was positive or negative." That was mumbled, enough that Martin might not catch it. His next words, however, are at normal volume.

"'bove all I don't want to lose her friendship. I don't want to hurt her, especially if it turns out to be letting her down gently." Which he has no idea how to do in the first place, mind. Relationships were never at the forefront of his mind, even in college, before he'd really started his creature work. That just didn't seem to be where the youngest Kratt had his attentions pointed. And suddenly here it was, suddenly dumped into his arms, and all he seemed to do so far was lose his balance and fall over.

Even with all the thinking he had done, Chris was at a complete and total loss.

He really did not bring enough wassail for this. He leaned over more on to one arm, freeing up the other so that he could put it comfortingly around his brother's shoulders.

"H'you're not gonna find all your answers in a day, Chris. Much less a couple of hours."

Or however long it had been since Fluttershy had left.

"And you're not gonna lose her friendship. Even if you don't have the same kind of feelings she might have for you, there's no reason you can't still be friends."

To be perfectly honest, Martin wasn't exactly the most knowledgeable person in the serious relationship department either. ...In fact, he was probably worse. But he did truly believe that, and more than anything he wanted to reassure his brother.

Chris watched him for a long moment, almost as if studying him. His eyes ticked lightly as thoughts went through his mind, and after a long moment he sighed lightly. There was the faintest hitch up of one corner of his mouth; it wasn't much, but it could almost be called a smile.

"Yeah.. 'least there's that."

His own expression brightened a little at that. On impulse, he pulled his arm in a little, hugging Chris in a bit comfortingly, before releasing a little. He then slid his free arm over to pick up the wassail still in front of Chris, which was no doubt cold by now.

"Hah, alright, you need something better than wassail. I'm gonna get you some of that hot cocoa."

He moved to stand, but then paused, as if something had just occurred to him.

"Oh, hey, I almost forgot..."

He pulled his backpack aside, rummaging through it a moment before handing Chris a small, somewhat flat, wrapped gift.

"H'you're gift had a part two."

He grins a moment, and then shifts his pack back on and turning, briefly placing a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"You can open it while I'm getting the drinks."

He gave Chris's shoulder an encouraging pat, smiling to match, and then turned and headed back into the crowd.

Chris was just settling back against the table, as soon as it looked like his brother was going to leave, when Martin stopped and a gift descended into his field of view. He blinked twice and sat back a little, taking it and watching him walk away before staring at the gift.

He fingered the side of it a moment; it felt like a book, a soft cover at that. Unwrapping it produced a journal, looking for all the world like it had been made of natural materials. The front of it was unmarked but as he flipped it over, he saw the back had "OPEN HERE" written in Martin's handwriting.

So he did.

Inside was a sight that made him draw in a breath. The first few, pressed-paper pages had been filled with reminisces of past creature adventures, less play-by-play descriptions and more words in a casual way, as if they were talking about them face to face. It started with their first- a joint adventure in Costa Rica -and jumped around until the Tortuga years, where it continued with highlighted trips of the brothers and the rest of the crew. Flipping too far found empty pages and he was confused for a moment, until he went back and found a note tucked in at the last Martin had written in:

"A CREATURE TRAIL'S STILL A CREATURE TRAIL. LET'S FILL UP THE REST OF THESE PAGES HERE; THE CREW WILL NEVER BELIEVE THIS!
-MK"

As he held the book his thumb happened to slip in behind the 'back' cover, and it was here he blinked again as he felt something through his glove. A glance proved it to be a plastic sleeve for small mementos, into which there was a folded newspaper article. Pulling this out wound up being the biggest surprise, as it was a story about the crew and a conservation adventure that had made it to press.

Feeling decidedly mixed up now, for reasons that didn't have anything to do with his current predicament, Chris smiled as he leaned forward and smoothed out the article on the table, giving it a read-through.

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Merry Christmas, Chosen...

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