In the middle of a large, virtually empty stretch of Nexus space, neither tucked into an unobtrusive corner nor blocking the tubes, snow begins to accumulate on the ground after fluttering freely from what appears to be thin air. The snow piles higher and higher over the course of several hours, a virtual mountain of white fluff, until a mighty
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"Aw, you look kind of lonely like that, Mr. Tree." The vocaloid chuckled to himself as he unwrapped the long blue scarf from his neck, and dangled it around the tree. Now it has a twelve foot long blue cotton garland. "That's much better!"
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"Thank you," He bowed to the tree. It's a bit odd, but it's clearly special and deserves respect. "Oh hey... it does smell like peppermint!"
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"Urr? Ooo, pretty!" Stiletto carefully removes the paw print ornament, and with just as much care, tucks it away in a storage compartment for the trip home. She's going to have fun picking out a spot for this on the tree!
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"I think...it might be a Christmas tree..." Swindle says. He had been doing research on Earth holidays, especially the ones round this time of year, "Though it seems to not be decorated fully.."
Too late, Random comes out, and, thankfully, does not play in the snow, "Ohohohoh! Perhaps everyone's supposed to add something! Do we have anything?"
To that Swindle only smirks as purple sparkles appear around his hands...
...when they leave, the tree is sporting about a dozen globes of light that seem to pulsate, glow and shift color of their own violation, and one little ornament of an TF:A Ultra Magnus with a Santa Hat on.
(Mun hopes this is okay >.> )
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Clearly pleased with the glowing globes, the tree radiates a very happy sort of feeling. It's very pretty now! In return, it seems to melt together some of its dwindling snow to form a large, shimmery snowflake ornament for each of them. Though cold and crystalline, the ornaments won't melt -- and they seem to be comprised of the same colors as the tree's new globes, depending on the angle one looks at it.
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"Are you sure you..." Swindle starts, then seems to get the feeling the snowflakes were made for them. He takes the other one carefully. "These can go on the tree at home. When we get a tree."
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Still, it's here, he's here, what the fuck. Might as well have a look.
He's not terribly fond of snow, but he has to admit it's nice the way it's blown into soft drifts around him. It coats the tree, leaps sparkling into the air when he tweaks a branch. He hasn't got anything on him really, just the foil from a cigarette pack. It takes him a few minutes, but he manages to fold it into something approximating a star. Or maybe a snowflake.
Whatever. He tucks it carefully into a branch, then goes on his way.
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Right?
He tilts his head, watching the light play along the icicle. Then he reaches out and takes it. It lies there in the palm of his hand, shining and beautiful. He notes that it does not melt, but that's not unusual considering the coldness of his hands. He detects a faint whiff of something from it - mint? - but he doesn't lick it. He's been warned about doing that sort of thing around here. Besides, he wants to keep it, not eat it.
He slips it into his pocket, then takes a quick look around.
"Merci," he says quietly, then turns and trudges off through the snow.
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