(no subject)
Who: Yoko Machi, Takashi Waku
What: Machi's birthday. :O
When: Machi's birthday. :O (Jun. 4)
Where: Machi's birthday. :O Royal Base.
What kind of birthday gift do you give to someone you've only known a few months? That was the question that had been plaguing Waku as of recent.
Ignoring the occasion was simply out of the question. Birthdays were special and deserved to be acknowledged. For that reason, Waku had pestered Moji--and Shirou--and Mayako--and Adorea had agreed to help, for which Waku was extremely grateful. Mayako volunteered rather enthusiastically to bake a cake. Waku did not know at the time that Mayako was explosive in or near any kitchen. After she had nearly burned down Shirou's apartment, a stalemate had been reached: Mayako and Moji would go find a cake, preferably one that was edible--and that's where they were now. Adorea said Machi liked the beach, and Waku had kicked and prodded Shirou to go find a beach--and that's where Shirou was now.
And here was Waku, at the Royal Base, trudging around the confines of the area. He had a very poor sense of direction. He was quite lost.
Machi liked dodgeball. She liked boats. He remembered that from a previous conversation.
Unfortunately, neither dodgeball nor a boat made a very practical gift. (Even if Mayako wanted to buy her a steamboat, what the hell?)
Waku had got to thinking: This world was a massive sea of data. The sheer amount of files that could be accessed through this world was probably not a number that Waku could even begin to count. Running out of ideas, he had eventually taken to scouring the data repository (with help from Guilmon, naturally--Waku was Tech Dumb). He had finally come up with a gift. He still thought it sucked, but at least it was a gift.
Nonetheless, he carried a plastic bag on his right wrist and called out:
"Machi. Where the hell are you?"
He watched various Digimon skitter by.
...I will never get used to that.
What: Machi's birthday. :O
When: Machi's birthday. :O (Jun. 4)
Where: Machi's birthday. :O Royal Base.
What kind of birthday gift do you give to someone you've only known a few months? That was the question that had been plaguing Waku as of recent.
Ignoring the occasion was simply out of the question. Birthdays were special and deserved to be acknowledged. For that reason, Waku had pestered Moji--and Shirou--and Mayako--and Adorea had agreed to help, for which Waku was extremely grateful. Mayako volunteered rather enthusiastically to bake a cake. Waku did not know at the time that Mayako was explosive in or near any kitchen. After she had nearly burned down Shirou's apartment, a stalemate had been reached: Mayako and Moji would go find a cake, preferably one that was edible--and that's where they were now. Adorea said Machi liked the beach, and Waku had kicked and prodded Shirou to go find a beach--and that's where Shirou was now.
And here was Waku, at the Royal Base, trudging around the confines of the area. He had a very poor sense of direction. He was quite lost.
Machi liked dodgeball. She liked boats. He remembered that from a previous conversation.
Unfortunately, neither dodgeball nor a boat made a very practical gift. (Even if Mayako wanted to buy her a steamboat, what the hell?)
Waku had got to thinking: This world was a massive sea of data. The sheer amount of files that could be accessed through this world was probably not a number that Waku could even begin to count. Running out of ideas, he had eventually taken to scouring the data repository (with help from Guilmon, naturally--Waku was Tech Dumb). He had finally come up with a gift. He still thought it sucked, but at least it was a gift.
Nonetheless, he carried a plastic bag on his right wrist and called out:
"Machi. Where the hell are you?"
He watched various Digimon skitter by.
...I will never get used to that.