i_speak_softly | Thirty-Eighth Theory [Action]

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Thirty-Eighth Theory [Action]

[Before Don goes out this morning, he leaves a note on the kitchen table.]

GONE TO THE SMITHY.
BACK TONIGHT.

[Two days ago he was angry with his brothers for being overprotective, but today everything is different. He genuinely wants them to know where he is, because they've all just been reminded how suddenly a person can vanish.]

[Part of him thinks he should have just stayed home, but... April never wanted him to give up on his work, no matter how futile it seemed. With that in mind, he heads into the village to keep a promise. The promisee is gone too, this time kidnapped before he even started working, but he's going to keep his word anyway. It's not like his curse could cause any further disaster.]

[... Maybe.]

[At any rate, he'll spend the day making tuning forks, for reasons he doesn't entirely understand. While he works, he'll keep an eye out for Sokka. He needs to talk to him about... a certain matter.]

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[Yeah, he's been there all day, and all yesterday, wallowing in some dark hole inside his mind. Sleeping, barely eating, just doing nothing until he realized how fucking stupid that was. Fuck that emo bullshit. He wanted to get angry. Anger is better. Anger feels good.

Throwing the nightstand against the wall is like a killing blow in a fight. The wood smashes to splinters in his hand. The impact vibrates through his bones. And for a split second, he feels fucking wonderful.

But then it's gone and the spark of madness is sucked away from him in a vacuum until he finds his next target of destruction, his next momentary high.

The anger fogs his brain. Tunnel vision. The booze only enhances it, makes the vibrations send a shockwave explosive enough to jar his nerves. He stumbles as he grabs the half-empty bottle of whiskey again and tries to down as much as he can in one swallow, relishing the way it burns in his chest.

That hurt. That's what he wants. He wants to feel, chase away that hollow feeling, fill himself with pain if he has to. Pain is better than emptiness, and he forgot how good it feels.

He knows his brothers are outside. He can hear Leo banging on the door, but he blocks it out. Only roars a battle cry as he flips his entire bed on its side.]

With the music blasting. The banging and all is more recent.

[He'll bang on the door again, specially after that battle cry] Raph!

I'm going in. [He puts his hand on the doorknob, but it won't turn.] It's locked. [His other hand goes to his belt, and his eyes go to Leo.] Should I pick it?

[A bolt of panic races through him as he surveys the destruction, panting like a mad bull in a battlefield; heaving shoulders, unfocused eyes. There's nothing left to destroy. His whole room is diminished to rubble. But the hollowness is creeping in, crying for more, feed it. He can hear it screaming with every pound of his racing heart throbbing over the pulse of the music, thundering in his ears.

He can't stop here. It doesn't end here. He's not done yet.

If this was home, he would have gotten his fill out on the streets, shown up a shadow in Casey's window thirsting for blood. Find the best punks - the gangsters and druggies with that desperate look in their eyes. Feral. The kind with knives and blades and aren't afraid to use them. Those are his favorite kind, the desperate ones. He can smell it on a man from blocks away, the kind of guy who isn't afraid to cut a limb that's offered to him. The kind of scum that will give you the hits you need.

Then he'd stumble back home, high on his own endorphins, bleeding and satisfied.

He can't find that here. Not in this land full of heroes. No. He had other ways of quenching that thirst.

He downs the rest of the whiskey in three swallows.

On the other side of the door, it all goes strangely quiet save for the steady throb of music and the sound of breaking glass.]

[Yeah that sudden silence isn't helping]

Pick it, he could be hurt. [Or just passed out, who knows. Only one way to find out] I'm going in with you. [As back up, just in case.]

[The silence is scarier than the screaming. Never mind the lockpicks; Don is kicking the door down.]

Raph?! Oh, damn...

[There's pieces of glass and broken furniture everywhere. His shelf of weapons is toppled over, scattering weapons, and the walls are full of dents and holes. The stereo still blasts it's demonic ballad.

Raph stands in the middle of the wreckage, a chunk of glass in one hand, and several bloody gashes across his bicep.

He looks up at Don with a glazed expression. Stunned.

Then, he explodes.]

[He rushes toward his brothers with a crazed look in his eyes, still holding the piece of glass.]

[He has to say it again. Again and again until they get it through their puny little heads. This is his room! His space! Get the fuck out!

The way he moves, he's obviously drunk. Dangerously drunk. It's completely erased his inhibitions, leaving him with nothing pure, raw, overwhelming rage.

The back of his mind whispers You're not empty anymore. The way he bares his teeth almost looks like a grin.]

Edited 2011-02-26 02:57 (UTC)

[Leo's not even looking at the room. He's focused on their brother. It's a good thing too as Raph came at Don.

Don! Watch out! [He'll push the other out of the way, and make to grab for that wrist before Raph hurts one of them.]

Edited 2011-02-26 03:10 (UTC)

[Don leaps aside as Leo pushes him, but immediately turns back to launch a palm strike across Leo's grab, aiming to knock the shard of glass from Raph's grasp.]

[Disarm and disable. Don't hurt him.]

[At least, not any more than he needs to be hurt. They've gone through this often enough to know how to bring him back.]

[Raph stumbles to a dead halt at his brother's advances, still panting open-mouthed, that glazed and wild look still burning in his eyes. The shard gets knocked out of his hand, slicing into his palm as it's wrenched from his grasp. He wouldn't hurt his brothers. Or would he? Maybe he would, in this state. But mostly, he just wants them away. Push everyone away. He doesn't need them. He doesn't need anyone. He just wants to hurt in peace.

Is that too much to ask for?]

Can't you read!?

[He struggles in Leo's grip and pitches forward, trying to body-slam him. It's probably the worst idea he could make right now, and it would do nothing to get him out of the hold. Even worse, the booze is starting to hit him. Hard. The whole world tilts sideways with the movement, and he winds up half-collapsing onto Leo's plastron instead, still trying to pull his way out of the hold.]

Let go 'a me!

Edited 2011-02-26 03:33 (UTC)

[Leo doesn't want to hurt Raph either. A part of him is hoping Raph doesn't want to hurt them. He'll use his other hand to help steady Raph and to hold him back.]

Raphael calm down, we're trying to help you. [He's stern, but there's worry in his voice as well. He's not seen Raph like this in some time.]

Edited 2011-02-26 03:40 (UTC)

[Don picks up an empty bottle, thoughtfully.] Leo... let him go.

[Leo looks to Don for a moment. There's some hesitation before he lets go, backing off a bit. He looks back to Raph, watching him. Worried about what he might do now that he's loose. But if that last stumble was anything to go by..]

[Raph wrenches away from Leo's grasp the moment it loosens, and the momentum makes him scramble sideways a half a step until he gets his feet under him.

Once he's steady, he thrusts a finger at Leo's plastron.]

Don' touch me. Don' touch me ever again, y-you fuckin' poser.

[Leo reminds himself that Raph's drunk, evidenced by the empty bottles. Raph didn't mean what he said.]

I wasn't going to let you do something you'd regret, Raph. [Like attacking his brothers with that glass shard. His voice is calm and firm, since getting angry at an angry drunk was liable to make them angrier.]

Yeah? An' who gives you the right ta jus' parade around in here and start givin' orders? I don' gotta listen to you! We were doin' jus' fine without you!

[That definitely stung a little, but he keeps his features schooled.]

I haven't been parading around. I was telling you to stop and to calm down. You weren't thinking straight and I was trying to get you to listen.

[Given the situation, somebody had to try and get through to him. He was glad that Raph seemed to of calmed down at least a little. He wasn't trying to kick them out anymore.

I'm fine. I'm thinkin' just freakin' peachy. [Says the turtle with the blood trail running down his arm and dripping off his elbow.] You got no right tellin' me if I'm thinkin' or not. You don' even know me. Who th' hell're you? Huh?

[He shoves at Leo's chest.]

Whatcha gonna do about it? Huh Fearless? [He tries to shove again, throwing more weight into it this time.] Huh!?

I'm your brother. [He answers simply. The blood catches his attention, however, and he eyes it with concern.] We need to stop the bleeding.

[He looks around the wrecked room. This place isn't that safe for for them, much less a drunk person.] Raph go sit down in the living room. [Preferably before the other turtle falls down. He's hoping Raph will listen, he doesn't want him to get injured worse.

He looks to Don.]

Don get the first aid kit. He's bleeding pretty badly.

[Don glances at the wounds, even though he's already seen them and classified them as superficial.]

It's not as bad as it looks.

[The air is getting thicker, and the room swims around him. He can't breathe, he can't get a foothold. The whiskey burns like a hot poker in his stomach. He swallows hard and tries to gulp for air.

Leo's nothing but a green blob now. He has to squint to make sure it's him, make sure he's listening. Are you listening now, Leo?]

'M not goin' anywhere. This's my room.

[The room spins again and he sways dangerously.]

They should still be taken care of. [He looks to Don again] We have a bigger problem. He's not eaten in days and with as drunk as he is... [Does he really need to go on? He looks back to the swaying Raph, automatically reaching out to help steady him.]

Raph if you stay in here you could get hurt worse. [Which is what Leo's concerned about and why he wants Raph out of the room.]

He hasn't eaten either? [He moves around behind Raph, quietly and efficiently clearing a safe place for him to collapse.] Sit down, Raph. You don't have to leave.

'M not leavin'. [He braces himself against Leo, only half-aware he's doing it. He's obviously the only thing keeping him upright.] Lemme alone. I made a sign, but nobody can read or some shit.

[He hangs his head and doesn't let go of his brother's shoulder. Everything's blurry and his face is hot. His brother's voices sound like they're talking at the end of a tunnel, and he can't make heads or tails of what they're saying. It's like he's having an out of body experience.

And he really needs to throw up. His chest heaves and he gags hard, but nothing comes up. Probably for the better, though, since he's aiming toward Leo's plastron.]

No he hasn't. [Leo wasn't sure what affect this could have on Raph though.

He'll hold Raph up, no complaints there for now. He also watches Don clear space.] We're in here because we're your brothers. We're worried about you.

Alright no leaving. But you're still sitting down. [He'll move to get Raph sitting on the cleared floor.]

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