i_speak_softly | Fortieth Theory [Written]

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Fortieth Theory [Written]

(Also in code, but translated OOCly for your convenience.)

March 3. Weather colder than I had hoped. Snowsuit good idea, must try to replicate at home. Did a lot of thinking and made campsite by mid-afternoon. Worked through remaining daylight.

March 4. Meditated all day. Nothing.

March 5. Meditated all day. Nothing.

March 6. Meditated all day. Revising prior analysis of "nothing" -- am much better at meditating than I used to be.

March 7. Went hiking today. Weather much warmer. Area, and views from it, very interesting. Really is an ocean now -- would like to go there in the summer. Thought about a lot of things. Watched the stars come out. Talked to Derek. Missing family and friends but not ready to go back yet.

March 8. Meditated again. Think I made contact.

March 9. The string moved!

March 9 - Later. Master Splinter here. Talked to him and Mikey. Have permission to finish what I came here to do, but will have a lot to explain when I get home. Must remain focused - can't stay away from my family like this for nothing.

March 10. Feel wonderful. Want to talk to Master Splinter about so many things, but still not ready to go back.

March 11. Much progress today.

March 12. Tried using magic with bo. Liked results.

March 13. Walked today, communicated with spirit. Should have come here months ago. Understand a lot now. Ready to go home.

((Don is in the mountains for a while. Post will be updated over the course of his journey and can be used for any plotty things that need to be played out.))

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I told you I don't want to hear about it!

Fine!

[He takes his journal and turns his shell to Raph. A few minutes go by, and then he's giggling again.

Do you spot the box of markers next to him?]

[After that, Raph just gets up and walks out of the room, taking his magazine with him.]

[This is what Mike has drawn. Not that Raph gets to see it.

After a while he'll wander to wherever Raph is, journal closed.]

[And Raph'll just ignore him, acting completely enthralled with his magazine.]

I drew a picture of you and Robert going at it.

[The little liar. But he wants to push your buttons right now. It's not even about the game anymore. He can feel something there and it needs to get out. And that's always been his job, pushing the right buttons to produce the best result.

He just hopes this was the right button.]

[He looks about ready to fly off the couch and choke him. But instead, Mike just gets a venemous glare.]

You did WHAT!?

Here, wanna see?

[He hands over the journal, open to the above doodle.

He's so tired of this. Just say what you feel, Raph.]

[Well. It's not about him, at least, but it does make him vaguely sick to his stomach. He closes the journal and hands it back to Mikey.]

That's stupid.

Is it? Is it really?

[Have a finger jabbing you in the plastron. If he can't get you to talk, he'll get you to fight. You like that better anyway.]

Yeah! It's stupid! [He slaps Mike's hand away.] Don't touch me!

I'll touch you if I want to touch you. [Another jab.]

Or are you afraid I'm gay too?

[Raph bolts out of his seat and lunges at him, going to shove him. Hard.]

Do you ever shut up!?

[He'll see your shove and raise you one of his own.]

What's the matter, Raphie-boy? Truth hurt?

[He shoves back, even harder this time.]

I said shut up!

Ooh, think I hit a nerve there!

[Mocking. Dangerously mocking. He knows he's playing with fire here.]

[No more talking. Raph wants a FIGHT. He throws a punch straight for Mike's stupid face.]

Edited 2011-03-10 01:52 (UTC)

[There we go!

Mike will dodge it, moving his head smoothly out of the way, and then throw one of his own.

You may be bigger and you may be older. But he's been training under Master Splinter right up until now. And he's always known exactly how you fight. He's just going to toy with you for now.]

[The power behind that punch throws him off balance, and in the split second it takes for him to readjust his footing, Mike's punch lands. All it does is make him madder.

He lunges for Mike again, attacking wildly, throwing a combination of punches and kicks, and not caring where they land.]

[Block, dodge, parry, dodge, parry, block.

So predictable, bro.

At the perfect moment, after you've worn yourself out a bit, Mike will sneak in your guard and go for a throw, trying to get you down on your shell.]

[At this point, Raph barely has a guard anyways. He's out of breath, frenzied, and desperate. He hits the ground hard, vision skipping form the impact just enough to smack some sense into him. He doesn't try to struggle, just lies there panting and staring blankly at the ceiling.]

[Mike stays on guard even though he knows his brother is beat, waiting for the signal.]

[He's beat. He can't do anything. He can't even move.

Everything that's happening, it's not about him. It's not about their family. It's not about you.

Raph feels the cold wind of grief sweep through him. When he swallows, a knot of emotion betrays him. He sucks in one more sharp breath, and his face tightens, pained.

He sits up, shoulders hunched, and sucks in another pained gasp.

Don't you cry. Don't you dare cry.]

[He knows a silent yield when he sees one. He crouches down, all traces of the fight gone from his posture. He studies Raph for a moment, and then sits all the way down next to him on the floor, leaning on him slightly. Shoulder to shoulder. I'm here bro. You don't have to be strong all the time.

You can cry if you need to.]

[And he does. He sobs pathetically, then the dam breaks. He can't control it. He curls into himself, still shoulder to shoulder with his brother, and just bawls.]

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