Forty-Second Theory [Voice/Action for Housemates]

[i_speak_softly]

[Don is feeling a little claustrophobic today. The number of vehicles he has stashed in his workroom has increased to five over the past week, and he's running out of room to build more. He'd been hoping that the wet, overcast weather would break so he could take his work outside, but that didn't exactly pan out. It is sunny today, but it's also unseasonably cold.]

[Determined to continue his work anyway, Don has shoved all the furniture out of the way and set up camp in the living room, surrounded by a mass of lightweight canvas and metal struts. Hang-glider Number Four is now Under Construction.]

[It's been quite some time since he asked a general question over the journals, so he decides to do so now. Companionable conversation is just what he needs to make the repetitive work go faster.]

If you had access to Shifting technology, and could change something about the world - what would you do? How long would you make it last?

[He also has some things he wants to talk about with Mike and Master Splinter - separately, that is. If they don't stop by while he's working, he'll be looking for them later.]

Comments

[Action]

[i_speak_softly]

[Hang-glider Number Four is refusing to fold up into its pack. Just when Don thinks he has it, one of the wings spangs open, whacking him in the beak.]

Damn it!

[Action]

[meanandgreen.livejournal.com]

[Muffin still in hand, Raph peeks out of the kitchen as inconspicuously as possible, just to make sure Don's not bleeding or impaled himself or whatever.]

[Action]

[i_speak_softly]

[He hasn't impaled himself. Yet. But the glider wing seems to be making a spirited attempt as Don again engages it in battle.]

[He gets it into the pack by virtue of weighing more than it does, and then he just sits on it, head down, the back of his hand pressed to his snout. Are those silent tears he's hiding?]

[Action]

[meanandgreen.livejournal.com]

[Raph walks back into the kitchen. He'll be okay. He doesn't care.

Or at least that's what he tells himself.]

[Action]

[i_speak_softly]

[A moment later Raph may hear a metallic twang, followed by a crash, some uncharacteristic swearing, a groaning like an iron ship under stress, a shout of unexpected pain, and then more crashes as Don apparently hurls the recalcitrant glider across the room and upends the couch for good measure.]

[Action]

[meanandgreen.livejournal.com]

[Okay, that tears it. He charges into the kitchen doorway, looking more put-out than concerned.]

The hell is your problem!?

[Action]

[i_speak_softly]

[Don't start with him.]

Three months, Raph. Three months. What the shell is wrong with me?

[Action]

[meanandgreen.livejournal.com]

I dunno! You want me to make a list?

[He has no idea what you're talking about, and he doesn't really care.]

[Action]

[i_speak_softly]

Please do! It might help me relocate my priorities!

[Action]

[meanandgreen.livejournal.com]

No, you know what? You ain't even worth it. Your priorities are all sorts of fucked up already, and you ain't gonna change them 'cause of me. You made that pretty damn clear.

[Action]

[i_speak_softly]

[It's not about him, Raph.]

[He calms himself a little and turns away.]

It's Derek. If you still think he's worth anything.

[Action]

[meanandgreen.livejournal.com]

[He thinks for a moment, arms crossed tightly over his chest. Derek. That can't be good.]

Yeah, what about him?

[Action]

[i_speak_softly]

His infection is getting worse.

[Action]

[meanandgreen.livejournal.com]

How much worse?

[Action]

[i_speak_softly]

Bad.

[Action]

[meanandgreen.livejournal.com]

[He stays silent. Gotta give him more than that, bro.]

[Action]

[i_speak_softly]

[He takes a breath, but doesn't turn around.]

He's only the disease, now. He's not him.

[Action]

[meanandgreen.livejournal.com]

[He suddenly stalks off to his bedroom. If Don thinks he's done one of his Raph-patented storming away from a situation, he'll soon be proven wrong. Raph emerges again with sai in hand and his pair of hand-made katana on his back, a determined look on his face.

On his way to the front door, he stops and stares at Don.]

You comin' or what?

[Action]

[i_speak_softly]

[What do you think you're going to accomplish with those, Raphael?]

Where?

[Action]

[meanandgreen.livejournal.com]

Whaddya mean "where"? We gotta do something before he hurts somebody!

[Action]

[i_speak_softly]

Buffy is going after him. I told her we wouldn't interfere.

[Action]

[meanandgreen.livejournal.com]

Oh, ain't that nice. So you think we're just gonna sit around and do nothing!?

[Action]

[i_speak_softly]

Are you listening, Raph? Derek is a vampire. Buffy is a vampire hunter. It's not our fight.

[Action]

[meanandgreen.livejournal.com]

Not our fight!? [He stalks off a few steps closer to the door, but stops and reels around again, that familiar fire burning in his stomach.] Not our fight!? What the hell are you talkin' about "Not our fight"!?

[He points at Don with the tip of his sai, all the anger, frustration, betrayal, hatred he's been feeling toward his brother lately manifested in that one small gesture.] You weren't there. You ain't one to talk! He told me to kill him if this happened, and screw you! I made a promise.

[Action]

[i_speak_softly]

[Don balls his fists, but doesn't make any other move.] Buffy promised to kill him too, but she isn't going to! She has another plan! Don't interfere!