i_speak_softly | Forty-Third Theory [Mostly Action]

I'm here Donatello, what did you wish to ask me about?

About that teleportation trick you showed me at Christmas. A few questions, actually.

Oh is that all? Well, you may ask.

Can you teleport anything?

Well thus far I've only tried myself and small objects, nothing more.

I'm thinking of something pretty big. And heavy.

[Implied questions include, Could you do it? and, Do you know anyone else who could?]

Hmmm. What exactly are you trying to move?

A diving bell.

I do not mean to pry, but what do you need one for?

It's for someone else.

Helios and I could possibly teleport it together.

Can you get it all the way to the ocean?

I shall talk to Helios and see if we can do it.

Thanks, Frederic. If there's anything else I can do for you...

There is one thing you could do for me actually.

Name it.

I wish to know more about your era.

...

Ah, sure. What do you want to know?

Is there technology in your era or world that can make someone immortal?

N- [He hesitates.] No. Not - generally available.

I see. Thank you for being honest.

Um... can I ask why?

It was mere curiosity, that is all.

[Strange thing to be merely curious about, but he won't pry.]

[He's still listening, if you want to ask anything else.]

[He's quiet for a few minutes, but thinks about one other thing.]

Is there truly a cure for tuberculosis in the future?

There's - an effective treatment. But it takes months to work, and there's a chance it could make the disease worse.

So in other words, the disease could still end the person's life?

Yes - if it progresses, it becomes untreatable.

This I know all too well. [He sounds a little pained when saying that.]

Frederic... [He's not entirely sure what you're thinking, but he doesn't like the gist of it. People aren't meant to live forever.]

I have...one other thing I wish to ask.

Sure.

How would you react to multiple doctors telling you only had a few years left to live?

... I always assume I only have a few years left to live.

And why do you say that?

It's just how things are.

[He doesn't really want to talk about it - how at home death was always just around the corner, from illness, from an accident, from starvation or exposure or a fight gone wrong. It's hard to think about now, too, that level of constant danger, the endless battle just to survive. It really feels like a different life.]

Do not take death lightly even in this world, though I would suppose you're already aware of this.

I am.

... That probably isn't a very helpful answer to your question.

No, it was very helpful to me. Thank you for taking the time to answer.

Any time, Frederic. [He's almost forgotten that originally he was asking you a question.]

I'm also glad to have been of assistance to you, do not hesitate to ask me anything else.

[Boyfriends randomly dropping in is the best thing ever. Though Robert is definitely a little surprised.]

... Ah, Don? Is there something the matter?

[There'd been some awkwardness after the last major experiment, yes, and that had kept them apart for awhile. In the meantime Robert had had his thoughts and his analyses and his reports... no surprise that he'd go a little introverted after such a crisis with relationships. That, and Helios was avoiding him.

But he's still happy to see Don, even if he thinks there's a problem, until... he remembers.]

... Ah, oh yes... you did mention wanting to see my nanocomputer during a rainy evening...

[That explains the visit, then. Robert ushers the probably-slightly-damp turtle inside his apartment.]

Raph's still missing, but no new disasters, at least.

[He follows Robert inside, the rain rapidly evaporating from his skin.]

I brought you something.

Ah... [Robert's face falls a bit. He's actually genuinely worried about Raph, and hopes everything will be okay.

Whatever rain that hasn't evaporated will be getting sponged off as soon as Robert can find a towel.]

... Oh? Whyever for? [Not that he isn't thrilled to be getting something...] ... But, of course, thank you for thinking of me, regardless.

[Don will trade that towel for his duffel bag, though it probably won't occur to him to do anything with it.]

Because having the right equipment is critical. Go put these on.

[In the bag Robert will find a swim mask, a pair of flippers, a snorkel, and a proliferation of inflatable water wings. Don has no idea how many of those it takes to make a Robert-sized human neutrally buoyant, so he just took a pile of them.]

The right equipment...? [Robert studies the contents of the bag right there. Swim gear?

It occurs to him suddenly that Don had wanted to teach him to swim.]

... I am going to look absolutely ridiculous.

... [He shrugs slightly after a moment.] But I suppose there isn't any harm...

Of course, the point is to remove one's clothing before getting in the water, I'd assume. Otherwise one would be quite thoroughly waterlogged.

[And without any fanfare whatsoever and right in front of Don, Robert proceeds to strip out of his clothing systemically, folding it with an obsessive neatness and placing it nearby on the table he'd placed the duffel bag on.

He only hesitates briefly with his shirt - and Don will notice his obvious discomfort around his chest, but he doesn't seem to react too visibly beyond that - but doesn't even seem to register taking off anything else. ~~That's what happens when you have no nudity taboo...~~

In short order, the skinny little scientist is entirely naked, with no evidence that this state is any kind of problematic. And why should it be? Robert is with his partner, who seems accepting of his body as it is, and he is in his own house. This is completely professional in Robert's eyes, and the only reason he's awkward at all is because of how scrawny he feels next to Don.

He then starts to actually put the various swimming paraphernalia on, failing miserably in the process because he doesn't know how they work... and only then does he actually look embarrassed.]

... Confound these devices. They're... entirely ridiculous.

... Bah.

[Don does not notice anything, because he turns around as soon as Robert starts stripping. He is well-versed in the etiquette of privacy in close quarters. He is, however, a little surprised that Robert is getting naked right here, when he could just as easily go into the bedroom.]

Do they fit?

[... Do water wings come in sizes?]

[Privacy? What privacy? And who needs it? Certainly not Robert.

Also, Robert could go to the bedroom, but that would a. waste precious time that could be used to scowl at the flippers and b. leave Don all by himself.]

... I honestly would not know how to tell.

[And Robert pokes frustratedly at the water wings at this, feeling like some kind of intended-to-be-amphibious clown.]

... Do you mind if I look?

[It's hard to help without looking.]

...

... Why would I mind?

[Robert stares over at Don with a completely quizzical expression.]

... Is there supposed to be a reason that I should?

I don't -

[He stops short because, Robert, you look ridiculous. Humans are just not built for the water, and adaptive equipment only makes them even more ungainly.]

[The parts of Robert that are sheathed in half-inflated water wings provide a handy distraction from the parts of Robert that aren't covered at all.]

Um...

...

[Yeah, Robert was afraid of that. He shakes his head with what might be despair on a more dramatic person.]

See? I look completely imbecilic, don't I?

If only there was Terran aquatic equipment here. That looks far less inane.

[He crosses his arms lightly over his scrawny chest, glowering down at the entirely-ridiculous flippers some more and flushing fairly intensely.]

[Don looks at his own built-in flippers. This was a bad gift. What was he thinking?]

I can take it back...

[Robert looks up at Don, stares for a few seconds, and then breaks into a dorky, self-depreciating smile.

Hell, he actually chuckles softly at himself.]

It may look ridiculous, but... the point is for it to be functional, correct?

...

Though it remains to be seen whether it actually is functional... [Robert looks suspiciously over at the half-inflated things attached to his arms.]

[Don glances up, and grins back.]

You'll bring them to the mountains, then?

Most likely, if you still want me to attend... [Robert blinks thoughtfully a moment.] But I'd probably need some sort of protective gear for my body, too... I would rather reduce the number of foreign pathogens colonizing my mucus membranes.

[Such a pleasant thought, right? Not that Robert sounds completely terrified of the idea, but still.]

... I think there are kinds of waterproof clothing that specifically exist for that purpose, but... I am not sure how common they are here.

I don't remember seeing any... [But he wasn't really looking. Seriously, Robert, you're worried about getting an infection from the water? It's a mountain hot spring, not the outflow from a lateral.]

[BUT THERE ARE EXTREMEOPHILES IN THERE, POSSIBLY.

AND... AND... Yeah, Robert's being paranoid for no reason, honestly. ~~Which probably means he will end up being naked in public.~~]

... I suppose it doesn't make a significant difference.

[And Robert is going to take off the water wings, now, because they're still one of the silliest-looking items in the list of stuff attached to him.] I wonder if it would be possible to swim without this, though...? It won't do me much good if the only way I can maintain neutral buoyancy is with assistance.

After all, I hardly had any assistance when I fell into the river the one time.

[But he was a turtle then... As a human, he probably would've drowned. Or started drowning anyway.]

[Don will not let you drown. He will be your turtly life raft, with or without the silly-looking equipment.]

You don't have to use it if you don't want to...

[Robert is thoroughly in support of this idea.]

The flippers seem somewhat helpful... as does the mask and breathing apparatus...

...

[And Robert thoughtfully stoops a bit to check the flippers more closely. All of this probably makes it obvious just how thin and delicate-looking he is... especially naked.]

I... really do appreciate this, though, Don. I did want to learn this, if only for your sake...

Ah... I think it's called a "snorkel". [Such an odd word. Can that really be right? Ah well.]

I really hope you like it. Swimming, I mean. It's so different from anything else... [He's discovering that in some ways, he's glad you've never been underwater before. He can't wait to see you experience it for the first time.]

"Snorkel". [Robert repeats the word with the same incredulosity. It does sound like a strange word.]

...

I think I will like it, provided you are there to teach me... [If he can hang on to Don's shell, Robert will probably be happy.]

I just hope that I don't entirely shame all amphibious biota by my attempts.

[He smiles, already looking forward to it.]

But in the meantime, weren't you going to teach me something? I'll try not to be an embarrassment to your century.

Oh, yes... Right. Certainly. [And there goes Robert off to get his nanocomputer off the nearby, well-used desk that it's on.

He's, uh, forgotten that he isn't wearing clothes. Don might want to remind him on that.]

What with your aptitude, I think you won't have much trouble learning to use it...

[When Robert turns around again Don will be holding out his pants and wearing an awkward smile. You might want to put these back on?]

[... Huh.

... Oh yeah, clothes. That's what he forgot. Time to be sheepish.]

... Ah. Should I replace my clothing...?

[Wait, does this mean he's discomforting for Don to look at? Robert is suddenly a little awkward.]

... I apologize if my body is strange...

[You're pink and narrow and he can see your inside-ribs. All those muffins Splinter has been ordering him to eat? He wants to smuggle them over here and force-feed them to you. Because you're clearly more in need.]

You're not strange, you're human...

[And humans are really big on wearing clothes. All the time. So surely you want to put your pants on now.]

[This human is not so obsessive about clothes-wearing, at least not in the presence of people he doesn't think he has to be hyper-professional around anymore.

Consider it a sign of trust, Don.

After another uncomfortable beat, Robert stoops to pick up his briefs and replace them on his thin hips, still mumbling nervously as he goes to pull them on.]

W-Well, I suppose they'd be... much the same thing, for you...

... And I know I'm... n-not particularly pleasant to look at.

[Especially his chest, which he's still conspicuously anxious about.]

[Don doubts that humans will ever stop looking strange to him. But as humans go he wouldn't call Robert unpleasant - and in fact he didn't. Now is probably not the time to try to convince Robert of his non-unpleasantness, though, so Don will try to convey the idea by acting normal. He moves to sit on the couch, waiting for his partner to join him.]

[Don stopped looking "foreign" to Robert a long time ago, even when his own body did as a turtle - a little odd, perhaps, but Robert loves Don how he is, and normally that includes his body too.

The scientist finishes nervously redressing himself - probably giving Don a chance to see how clothing sits on a human body, and how it's properly put on - before he returns to Don's side and sits with him, holding his nanocomputer in his lap, running his fingers reflexively over the smooth black epoxy case.]

Ah, well.

Where to actually start...? [Well, maybe at turning it on, but...]

[Don absorbs this potentially-useful information peripherally.]

[While Robert thinks about how to begin the lesson, Don helpfully pulls out his adaptive keyboard from some ninja place. Do they still have USB ports in the future?]

[Potentially-useful information indeed.

Something similar enough exists to a USB port - an adaptive port in general - that Robert does recognize it. He slides the nanocomputer open almost delicately, revealing the complex inner workings, including the display and the panels for interfacing with the various scientific tools at the nanocomputer's disposal.]

... This particular variant of the nanocomputer is a standard-issue scientific tool, manufactured by the Head Institute and distributed throughout the scientific institutions of Terra.

... Did you want me to connect that keyboard for you? [The actual nanocomputer keyboard is a lot smaller, though there's a clear intent to provide support for adaptation; there are slots built into it, looking like they are meant to handle extensions of the usable surface.] Were we on Terra I could probably find an adapter there, but you would likely be more used to your own keyboard anyway.

Please. [He disentangles the cord and offers Robert the end.] It's much easier...

Then certainly.

[Robert takes the cord, and physically adjusts the port to accept the USB cable; the port seems almost flexible, as if it melds to conform to the connector, and not the other way around.

A small indicator light flicks on for just a moment, and the computer itself hums softly.]

... Ah, there we go.

It should be usable at this point... [Robert looks over at the keyboard.] That would have been nice to have when I was a turtle myself. It must make typing significantly easier than trying to use smaller keyboards...

[Don watches this in fascination.] How does it do that?

Well, it has much to do with the properties of Terran conductive polymers and innovations in the manipulation of quantum bit states...

[Robert launches into an explanation of various aspects of conductive polymers and how they respond to electrical input signals, as well as how quantum bit states signal both how many logic "pipes" and "endpoints" are needed and how the unique device signalling procedures are put into place. ~~Really, the mun should come up with something more distinct some day.~~ After a moment, Robert gives a bit of a sheepish smile.]

... But my knowledge on this topic is relatively limited, so I would be unlikely to be able to replicate this here.

We could always request the Malnosso if it became useful, but... [Robert shrugs non-committally.]

[Don listens and files away this useful information. ~~Little does he know he'll soon have a use for such a port.~~]

Enough about the hardware then - show me the interface.

[At this, Robert slides his fingers over the keyboard, waking the device from the automatic power-saving "sleep mode" it had been in.

Don might notice the seemingly-millions of tiny solar panels, much more intricate than the ones he might be used to, coating the outer surfaces of the device; the black epoxy case seems as though it's meant to protect and prevent overcharging, and Don might've seen a similar case nearby, but transparent instead.

Robert's fingers dance over the keyboard as he cues the interface for the nanocomputer. Because it's something Robert uses - and because it's somewhat standardized - the interface has a simple-but-efficient design; the console glows gently with a soft light that seems calibrated not to cause injury staring at it too long.]

As this is a professional nanocomputer, built mostly for the use of scientists, these nanocomputers tend to focus on functional attributes... One might find a more robust interface on an entertainment or communications nanocomputer, for example.

... Mike seemed to express some interest in the thought of immersive virtual gaming... [Robert smiles a bit.] Unfortunately, it would be almost impossible for me to obtain any here, because they generally need the Terran planetary Internet to function.

[Don can't even express how much he's missed technology, and people who know how to use it. His fingers itch to try out the nanocomputer - obviously much more powerful than his laptop, despite Robert's dismissive comments - and he doesn't want to hear about Mike and his video games.]

[Don may or may not notice that during the demonstration he leans closer and closer to Robert, until he's practically sitting on him.]

[Likewise, Robert has really missed having somebody to actually share said technology with. The fact that it's his awesome boyfriend is a bonus. Which is why he not only doesn't mind that he's nearly being flattened, but he's in fact curling gently back into Don, his slender frame snuggled against the turtle's plastron.

Robert shifts the nanocomputer closer, perhaps inadvertantly into his lap, so that Don can reach it easily while practically glued to him.]

... You seem very eager to try this yourself...

... Would you like to?

[It's like some bizarre kind of nerdy foreplay.]

[Don automatically moves one knee to catch the computer, and one of his arms somehow winds up behind Robert's back as the two of them try to occupy the same space in front of the screen, and his other hand dances over his keyboard, entering commands. Technology may have changed, but the psychology of the users hasn't, and it's intuitively obvious to him how to control the interface. Within seconds he has brought up a list of available programs.]

Ooh...

[There are very few people Robert would trust to touch his nanocomputer, and Don sits squarely in this category. It helps that he's a quick study and has almost no problems finding the programs.

It helps that the screen is mostly touch-sensitive (though there's an optional peripheral for those who'd rather not touch the screens, but Robert doesn't use it much), so that probably makes it simpler to use.

Most of the programs on the computer are pretty much geared for scientific pursuits - data compilers, analyzers, tools for building mathematical charts, diagrams and the like, text-handling programs... there's also programs for handling the holophotography/video. ~~Don might get a few awkward surprises if he pokes through that.~~]

You seem... highly enamoured of my nanocomputer.

[Robert almost nuzzles Don gently, arching a little into the strong arm resting against the curve of his spine.]

... And perhaps of me, at the moment? After all, we are... quite close.

[Not that Robert seems to mind. If anything, it's the exact opposite.]

[Don doesn't bother much with touchscreens either - most devices seem to have trouble reading his thick digits as fingers. At any rate, he prefers text commands over icons. GUIs are for wimps.]

Huh? [A vague sideways glance. His eyes don’t really leave the screen.] Mm-hmm.

[Sorry, Robert, your boyfriend is leaving you for a computer.]

[He would find this touchscreen to be remarkably responsive, actually. It's, after all, designed to be used by non-human sapients too...

Robert just smiles at how absorbed Don is by his nanocomputer. It's so much like him that he's almost struck, again, by how similar-and-yet-different they are.

So he just snuggles into Don's side and watches Don explore the nanocomputer's functionality, enjoying the closeness and the obvious interest and affinity Don has for Terran technology.

Clearly they are now in a polyamorous relationship with the nanocomputer.]

I reiterate how much I would love to take you to Terra. You seem so engrossed in the technology.

You would be a wonderful engineer there... quite possibly a candidate for the Head Institute.

[Robert is excited just thinking about that.]

[That's what he gets for not experimenting thoroughly.]

[At Robert's words, a burst of static in his head. He freezes momentarily, then slowly slides the nanocomputer back to Robert's lap.]

An... engineer?

[Robert takes that reaction as a negative one.]

... Ah, you... wouldn't wish to be a Terran engineer?

... Really, you could go into any branch of the sciences or mathematics that you'd wish... With your aptitude and penchant for learning? Why, I wouldn't be surprised if the top Linden universities sought you out as a potential student...

[Robert seriously isn't exaggerating this, either.]

[He reaches over and gently closes the lid of the nanocomputer.]

Stop.

[Robert falls silent immediately, though he goes to say something else, catches himself, and then just slumps painfully.

Why is this bad? What's wrong with what he's saying? Does Don not want those things?

After some silence, Robert mumbles a soft apology.]

I'm s-sorry.

[He doesn't know what he said wrong, but he is deeply sorry that whatever it was hurt.]

[He bites his lip, mental fingers almost but not quite touching the still-locked box in his mind.]

Was I an engineer? During the experiment?

Yes. You were a magitechnological engineer... The finest engineer in the district. Better even than myself, and I was the owner.

It was a heirarchal, nepotistical system... That was really the only reason I owned the company at all.

I remember I tended to handle the paperwork and environmental-impact-statement side of things... though I worked alongside you, of course, but never quite to your abilities.

I... admired you greatly, for it.

[And Robert exhales slowly, looking at the floor. He loved his... brother-at-the-time's remarkable achievements and how he was the only person in the world who'd always support his experimentations and how he had helped Robert with... pretty much everything ever.]

[Don's fingers curl in the back of Robert's shirt. His other hand moves to his belt, tracing the outlines of his concealed gear.]

I haven't looked.

[Robert looks up at Don and lets a small, pale hand meander over his plastron a bit, more questioning than anything. His hair brushes the turtle's side due to their close proximity.]

I... have extensive records, if you wanted to see them...

... B-But, it's... of course up to you.

[He almost seems confused, like he doesn't know why Don is suddenly morose. Because he doesn't.]

[His hand moves unbidden to Robert's, pinning it in place.]

Not yet.

[He stares into space for a moment, then looks down. Blinks. Realizes what he's doing. Snatches his fingers away.]

Sorry...

[Robert looks down at the hand pinning his, surprised more than anything. Sudden displays like that come out of left field for him, because he still doesn't understand the automatic nature of the ninja training.]

...

Was... was my touching problematic?

I apologize.

[He withdraws his own hand after a moment, just sitting there with an awkward expression.]

[Don looks at the floor another minute, then twists to face Robert as best he can with his arm still pinned, his demeanor abruptly serious.]

Rob, we need to talk.

[Sudden serious demeanour indeed gets Robert's attention. He sobers and nods, moving the nanocomputer aside so that it won't be jostled too much.

That nickname... yeah, Robert has things he needs to talk about, too.]

... Please feel free to, Don.

[Get in line; this might take a while.]

[He extricates his arm, using the moment to order his thoughts.]

Rob, I - I love that you look at me like I'm a normal person. But I'm not, and it's important that... that you understand.

[He takes a deep breath.]

If I go to another world, or become an engineer, or anything, I'll still be a ninja. It's in everything I do and I can't turn it off. You need to know about it. You need to know where the triggers are.

[Robert blinks, slowly. "Not a normal person"?] ... You... have never seemed like anything other than "normal" to me.

I mean, yes, you... can fight, but... [As much as it hurts to say it:] ... That seems to be closer to the usual state than the alternative...

How does being a ninja make you "not normal"? Is... Is there some psychological component that prevents you from being neurotypical, like my condition? Or... [He's really baffled right now.]

Because you won't see it. [Part of it is your condition, he's sure, but he suspects that some of it is willful ignorance.]

Being a ninja... I've been trained to it since before I can remember. It affects my senses and my thought processes and how I sleep. Even when I'm not fighting, I'm never really normal.

[Actually, the vast majority is simply not noticing. Beyond the occasional rare sudden movements, Robert has never really picked up on Don's ninja reflexes. Any behaviour that could have been even vaguely construed as odd was either simply accepted as normal for Don, or missed entirely.

And why would Robert notice? Ninjas no longer exist in his world. Nothing like them exists. Nothing like the kind of training they have exists. He would have no idea where to even start looking.

He is definitely usually consciously ignoring the fact that Don can fight... but, he does that with his other fighter friends, too, and until now had no real idea that there was any kind of lasting psychological difference.]

What is normal, in this context?

Don, I do not mind. Your differences are part of you. They are therefore part of the person I love, inextricably. ... I'm only sorry that I didn't appreciate these differences before.

But please tell me more about them, that I might give them the respect they deserve.

[He has... somewhat come to accept the fact you have killed people, Don. Learning about your reflexes isn't going to scare him off now.]

You minded when I was wrestling with Mike.

[Robert exhales softly at that.]

Because that was violent behaviour... or, maybe "fighting". [Robert remembers that Don had made a distinction between the things, even if he doesn't get why.]

I would have minded if anybody had wrestled anybody. It was just... especially jarring, considering it was you and your brother on his birthday...

... And like I said, that seems to be normal. Typical. It is my world that is the strange one.

[Robert isn't sure why that is, and it still bothers him that that seems to be true...]

We weren't fighting. Mike likes to wrestle. It's just something siblings do. [... He's pretty sure that even non-ninja siblings wrestle with each other.]

Nobody on Terra would ever do anything like that... [Robert actually recoils a little at the idea.]

... Not that I ever had a sibling. But I know I would never do that with a sibling... what would even be the purpose...?

[The whole topic seems unsettling for Robert. He's racking his memories of the alternative universe, trying to think of times where he might've... done something like that, towards Don...

... Don did hit him that one time, didn't he? And... he didn't mind? His mind at the time called it "playful", even.

Robert suppresses a slight shudder.]

... Your idea of what siblings do is very different from what mine is.

[Terra is starting to seem like a frighteningly sterile place.]

It's fun. And good for us. [He is adamant about this. Truthfully, he's never liked wrestling all that much himself, but he recognizes that his brothers derive a variety of benefits from the practice, and he imagines that at least some of the positive effects apply to him as well.]

I do everything with my brothers. They're all I have.

[And now this conversation is reminding him how much he misses Raph.]

[Starting?]

... Fun? [Robert looks like Don just suggested something fundamentally impossible, like saying Robert could beat Raph at arm-wrestling.] I... can't see why...

[And that part makes Robert kind of bite his lip gently. He suddenly wonders if he qualifies as something "Don has", here...]

... I apologize for having difficulty understanding.

[Hey, if April could beat Silver Sentry...]

Because it feels good to do things like that with someone you... trust... [He trails off, realizing a similar description could probably be applied to certain other activities that Robert seems to think about.]

[A very similar description could, indeed, be applied to said activities. ~~Though Robert would hope sex would include less pain than wrestling would...~~

But Robert's mind doesn't automatically go to that.]

I trust you...

[Robert wonders if it's reciprocal.]

[~~Wrestling is only painful if you do it wrong.~~]

I -

[No. He can't honestly say that it is reciprocal, yet. If it was, his reflexes wouldn't have done what they did earlier.]

You shouldn't say that.

Why not? It's truthful.

[Robert trusts Don significantly more than he does almost anybody else. There are very few people that Robert would have the courage to admit those things to.

But he notices the fact that the response isn't reciprocal and that kind of hurts.]

... Have I done something to be untrustworthy...?

[It's ignorance, but Don won't say that.]

[He puts a light hand on Robert's arm.]

It's not you. What happened earlier... I trust you enough to forget you're there, which is more than I can say for almost anyone else. But you still can't touch me when I'm not paying attention, which means part of me doesn't trust you yet. [He watches Robert carefully.] Do you understand?

[Robert literally hadn't considered that gesture as anything particularly abnormal until Don brings it up, so he finds himself suddenly mulling it over.

"I trust you enough to forget that you're there" seems... paradoxical, in a way, but... Robert tries to draw parallels.

After a moment, his expression twists into something resembling a eureka moment.]

... It's like my social phobia. Almost. Not quite, but... I trust certain people here because they have repeatedly proved to be so, but... there is still trepidation... [Even a minor amount, still, with Don, which discolours his actions and makes it so that Robert seems awkward and withdrawn at times. It's part of Robert's psychology, something he can't help.]

... I don't want it to be there with people I deem trustworthy, but it is, entirely without my ability to help it. Is that... similar? Somewhat?

[And Robert files away the "don't touch me when I'm not paying attention" part.

... That will pretty much mean that Robert is going to ask for permission to touch Don in any way, now.]

[He nods.] The logical part of you says someone is trustworthy, but another part of you doesn't listen to logic and isn't convinced. [He smiles wryly.] Not that the second part is always wrong... [He shifts, making their relative positions less a serious conversation and more a relaxed being-together.] ... but in this case I think they're just on the wrong step.

[And that not-touching-without-permission thing? Is exactly the opposite of what he was tring to get at.]

How would one go about convincing that part of your mind...? [Thoughtfully, Robert wonders how he could convince his own social phobia not to be... socially phobic.] Essentially, one would have to... teach it to not automatically be fearful...

... Is there a reason that being a ninja is associated with it?

[Pfft. Don is going to have to explain that to Robert better, then. ~~And Robert is a wimp and doesn't want to bother people.~~]

Training. Bypass the brain and teach the body. That's how you learn most of ninjutsu.

[He hesitates, then says:] I need you to train me.

You need me to train you...?

[Strangest. Sentence. Ever. Except maybe the time when Robert wondered aloud how a universe could function without magic during the AU.]

How would I even do that? I mean, I wouldn't wish to... be a bother...

It's not a bother. I need to learn to let you touch me. The best way to do that is - by letting you touch me.

[Even if it's uncomfortable at first. Training is like that.]

[He shifts again, facing Robert more fully.]

Please?

[Whelp, mixed feelings get. It feels... bad to do something that somebody doesn't explicitly want. But Don is explicitly asking Robert to do something that he doesn't want. So doesn't that mean he explicitly wants it? Except he doesn't.

Robert just focuses on the fact it's consensual.]

... If you're certain...

I-I mean, it's not that I don't want to. On the contrary. [He is still very interested in touching Don, however "touching" applies.] Just... I'd rather not make you uncomfortable...

... B-but, if you still want me to, regardless, then...

[Yeah, Robert's just going to nervously run his fingers over Don's plastron again, slowly. He maintains some uncomfortable eye contact - he can actually do so, with Don - as he does this, carefully, seeing what the turtle is comfortable with. Or, uh, not so uncomfortable that he hates it utterly, anyway.]

[Don keeps quiet as Robert touches him. Those feelings again, liking and hating at the same time, but he pushes them away, goes to a meditative place, starts counting slowly. When he reaches 100 he'll allow himself to move away.]

[In the meantime, his expression will betray very little, even to a more skilled observer. He trusts you enough to let you follow your own judgment.]

[Robert's quiet too, actually, just tracing small, gentle, careful patterns over Don, wondering how this feels for him and why it bothers him... wondering what it means that it bothers him. Wondering a million things, really.

His hands don't stray anywhere else from the upper half of Don's plastron, though they meander there. Don'd probably have to be more specific if he wanted Robert to touch anywhere else.

The moment Don pulls away, Robert snatches his hands back almost in a chastised manner and holds them, meerkat-like, against his own thin chest.]

I... I-I hope that was alright...

[Don makes it to 112 - almost two minutes - before the urge to get away becomes overwhelming. He pulls back, moving to the end of the couch, and takes a moment to calm himself before looking at Robert again.]

That was ... good. [He means the way you did it, not how it felt. That will come later.] Will you do it again?

[The panicked pulling-away makes Robert immediately regretful, and he internally curses himself a bit before Don responds.

... It was good? Something that made Don look downright afraid was good?]

... In the same manner...? [Robert looks anxious, not sure whether he should scoot closer or wait for Don to return.] I, I c-could touch somewhere else if you'd p-prefer, or...

[A tiny part of him wonders if this is how sex between them is going to be like.]

[Oops, miscommunication.]

Another time, I mean.

[Ninja foreplay is a long-term project.]

[Long-term indeed. At least they're both aware of each others' respective hang-ups at this point? Sort of?]

... Ah, not a problem.

[Robert's just going to look shy now.

He twists his now-unoccupied fingers gently together in his lap and tries to look immensely interested in the floor.]

[He fidgets a moment, then asks:] Was there anything you wanted me to know?

...

W-Well...

[Uncomfortably:] You... you wanted to hear about... my ex-partner at some p-point, didn't you...?

...

It's... d-difficult to talk about, but it is something you deserve to know...

[You look so miserable at the idea.]

It doesn't have to be now...

[It's... not the most pleasant subject for Robert.

Which is to say that it's probably the most painful thing to think about that happened in his life, short of Luceti-related things.]

... But I... should be honest and open with you, of all people. And, I d-don't know when we'll next get a chance to speak uninterrupted...

And I r-really do trust you... [He isn't just saying this to psyche himself up, though that's partially the reason.

There's so much that Robert doesn't know about Don, too. And he's starting to become aware of just how much he doesn't know.]

... M-May I... hold your hand...?

[Don glances out the window. Dark. Still raining. He can't stay out all night, but he has some time.]

[He slides back over on the couch. One arm snakes around Robert's shoulders, to trace absently up and down his sleeve. The other hand seeks Robert's fingers, twining with them and holding them in a reassuring grip.]

[He'll listen to whatever you have to say.]

[Robert pulls himself closer to Don's presence, taking the contact as an encouragement to actually say something.

Holding Don's hand helps too. It's stabilizing, helping to push away Robert's misgivings about the whole thing.]

...

His name was... ... is... Benjamin.

Benjamin Prieto.

... I first met him when I was around fourteen, through the science clubs at my school. [Robert's voice is kind of wavery and watery here, though it holds traces of a smile.] It was... one of the things we really had strongly in common, actually... even now I wonder what made us click, for those f-five years...

... H-He was unmistakably intelligent. A b-brilliance that manifested itself in s-strange ways, to be sure, but... ... Much like Mike, actually, in some senses. He was a playful, exciteable, curious person... ... I s-suppose I grounded him in some ways. Provided him with the normalcy he needed...

...

[Robert shakes his head a little.]

... H-he... ... c-called me "Rob" all the time...

... I-it... it's still a little... p-painful to hear that name...

[It's a little uncomfortable, hearing Robert compare his ex-partner to him, to his brother. But the last statement is unsettling in a different way.]

It - reminds you of him?

[Robert fails at descriptions. He finds comparisons easier to do than describing something by itself. Especially something as awkward and complex a topic as his former partner...]

...

Yes... it does. And... u-until recently, it was... a thoroughly painful reminder...

... [Softly:] I-It's... changed, though, now...

I just, I w-worry... th-that... that I'll do something w-wrong with us, like I did with him...

[And with all the things that get in the way of Don and Robert's relationship, his worry isn't entirely unjustified.]

[Don would hold Robert closer, but he's already about as close as he can get.]

No one else calls you that?

[Robert shakes his head.]

Names like that are... very new for me. I'm used to being called Robert.

... [Awkwardly:] Benjamin was the only person who ever used pet names for me...

[Not even his parents. In fact, they often called him Professor Hastings. That's how distant he was with them.]

[What different families they come from.]

I'm sorry.

[And he tries to find a place to rest his head. Robert's shoulder is too low to be comfortable - his head would make more sense, but Don is always hesitant to touch a human's hair...]

Please... it isn't your fault. How would you be expected to know something when I had never told you?

... And... a-and, it's... n-not problematic, or as much, anymore...

[Robert shifts his head in a clearly indicative way, brushing his soft, short hair against Don's chest.]

... I-It's... it's the feelings behind the name that matter, c-correct...?

And, and... You love me... s-so it's... alright...

[Robert finds it easy to tell Don that he loves the turtle. But saying that Don loves him is much more difficult because it's still something that's hard to believe.]

... I-I... really don't want to lose this...

[Not that Don can feel it, there. He curls his arm around, making an abortive move to touch Robert's hair. He probably shouldn't.]

Is there something else I could call you?

I really would not mind almost anything at this point, from you... as long as it isn't a derogative.

... Just... Benjamin meant an inordinate amount to me, but so do you, now...

... I just never thought I would ever truly have this opportunity again, after my poor decisions the first time - especially considering how... u-undesirable I seem to be...

[Robert trails off at the feeling of Don's arm curling around him, and likely angles his head so Don can reach his hair better. ~~It may or may not remind Don of Klunk.~~]

[Don is busy resolving to come up with a new nickname for Robert, and trying to think of something suitable, when Robert moves his head, bumping it against the heel of Don's hand.]

[Caught in the act. What to do.]

Um...

[He could stroke Robert's hair.]

...

Please feel free to... touch me as well, if you would want... I certainly don't mind.

[~~That's not suggestive at all.~~ Reciprocity is always an admirable quality.

That, and it's soothing...]

[Touch you? He's already all over you.]

[Still, he can never resist an open invitation to touch hair. It's such a strange and intriguing thing.]

[He curls his fingers cautiously, stroking Robert's hair as though it's made of glass filaments. ~~Please don't let anything break.~~]

[Robert's hair is soft, and short - kind of wispy, and obviously well-cleaned. It is a lot different from how Splinter's fur would feel, and Klunk's is probably rougher unless he has Persian coat genes.

Nothing breaks, though. Robert's not that delicate.

He sighs a little at the contact and rests his head on Don's chest as Don pets his hair.]

[Even Don's limited experience is enough to tell him that hair is markedly different from fur.]

[He pulls back when Robert moves, but quickly realizes his partner is just settling. He likes it.]

[Don resumes his careful exploration, ruffling the hair gently back and forth and watching the interplay of strands.]

What's it like?

[His own brief experience with hair was nothing short of horrifying, but April had assured him it was different when you were used to it - and had then fallen all over herself in trying to explain how. Maybe Robert can provide a more coherent explanation.]

[It takes Robert a few seconds to gather his semi-sleepy (due to the stroking) consciousness to a point where he can formulate a response to that. But it's such an obvious thing, now that he thinks about it - Don doesn't have anything like hair, and so it would obviously be as foreign to him as having scutes and keratin plating was to Robert.]

Well, in the case of hominids, hair is generally meant to serve as a form of protection from the elements, and provide some sort of sensory input... mostly in the form of being able to tell when it is moved. The hair strand itself is, as you likely already know, insensate and technically dead; the root of the hair is the living, growing part, and it is the part which is ennervated.

For example, I can feel you moving my hair as a mass, but were you to bend a single hair in on itself, it would not cause me pain. [Robert smiles reassuringly.] Now, attempting to pull it out of my head most certainly would...

... As for what having it is like... [Robert hums thoughtfully.] It's certainly much more pliant than scales, and while cleaning it can be a bother, it does provide one's cranium with some protection from the direct elements.

... One can also do interesting things with hair if one is so inclined, but I've never found myself to be the hair stylist sort.

[At least that's one gay stereotype nobody can accuse Robert of having?]

[Not exactly the kind of explanation he had in mind, but informative nonetheless.]

[He tilts his head a little so he can see Robert's face.] Are you falling asleep?

[Dorky grin get.] Not quite... I am simply soothed by this touch.

... I can't remember the last time somebody has stroked my hair...

[Robert would totally be reciprocating, but, turtle.]

[Oh really.]

[Don essays a headscratch, like he does for Klunk when the kitten demands attention.]

[He definitely needs to teach you some things about reptile reflexology.]

[Robert will be more than happy to learn these things.

At the gentle, affectionate scratching - very far removed from an aggressive act, and certainly not interpreted that way - Robert nuzzles closer to Don, or as closer as he can actually get. He's practically curled in Don's lap, now. ~~cute y/n~~]

I... a-appreciate this very much...

[Treating Robert like a cat is apparently an effective thing.]

[~~Mammals. They're more or less all the same.~~]

Is this something - people usually do for each other?

[He's not really sure what degree of intimacy hair-touching normally implies.]

[~~Hey, at least Robert won't try batting at strings?~~]

As far as I am aware? It does tend to happen amongst people who care for each other deeply... hair-touching, at least in this context, usually represents some kind of loving gesture.

... I typically see either partners doing so to each other, or parents doing so to their children... Either would suggest closeness. [Though of a different sort in both cases. Generally.]

At any rate... it hardly matters to me. I enjoy this and you don't seem to have any problems with doing so...

... Would there be a kind of touch you might like? [Implied in that statement is "presumably one that doesn't make you panic after 112 seconds and try to get away".]

[~~But he likes debating string theory. It's almost kinda similar.~~]

[A smile Robert may not see.] I already had my turn.

You could have two turns. [Robert looks up at Don almost eagerly.]

... And I am curious if there is anything I could do that you actually enjoyed - after all, you can't be particularly sensate on your plastron.

[Robert remembers what it was like to have one. It was like wearing protective gear all the time.]

That would be cheating.

[And having a plastron is great. Definitely better than the alternative. How do you stand it?]

[What? Dodging the question? Certainly not...]

[Robert is actually willing to push the issue, albeit gently.]

Please? It would be something I would want to do...

[He nuzzles his cheek lightly against Don in an insistent way.

~~Oh no, you're totally not dodging the question there, Don.~~]

[~~Damn your persistence.~~]

[Don glances out the window again. It's getting late.]

After this I have to go.

[That's a tacit yes - or an opportunity to rescind the offer and make use of the remaining time in some other way.]

[~~nooo turtle don't leave me~~

Robert wouldn't really know what else to do at this point, other than kiss/cuddle Don. Or ramble about something else nerdy. Or both.

Maybe this is a both opportunity?]

Well... is there anywhere I could touch that would be pleasant for you? As in, something that... would actually provoke a positive response...

[Other than perhaps his genital region, though Robert isn't thinking of that at the moment ~~even if his mun is~~.]

[Okay, you win.]

[Don disentangles himself halfway, and taps Robert's shoulder.] Let me up.

Ah, my apologies. [Robert scoots obediently out of the way, making sure his various limbs aren't tangled up in the turtle's, and then looks up at him with an expression reminiscent of a seagull attempting to coax a person into throwing that especially-tasty looking morsel in said seagull's direction.

The effect is cuter and more workable on a seagull, but hey.]

... Yes?

Come here. [In one move, he stands up, draws his bo over his shoulder, and lies stomach-down on the floor, placing the weapon at a convenient distance.]

[Robert gets up off of the couch and wanders over to his partner's side, standing next to him in a way that suggests that he's considering kneeling or sitting down but isn't sure if he should do either yet.

And those smooth motions that Don does so often are only now starting to be associated with "ninja training". After four months.]

Shall I kneel or something for this...?

Mm-hmm.

[He folds his arms and rests his head on them, looking up at Robert with one eye.]

You can't tell anyone about this.

I would never disclose anything about you that you did not explicitly give me permission to disclose.

[Robert gives Don his best dead seriousness look, kneeling carefully next to him.

... Despite the scratches and other marks on its surface, Don's shell is really beautiful. Robert admires it a little bit.]

[With your tendency to monologue, Don doesn't believe that for an instant. But if he explicitly tells you not to talk about something, he's pretty sure you won't.]

Lean on it.

[If it's any consolation, Robert doesn't realize how dangerous it is to spread information around - yet. He's still stuck in his "all knowledge is good knowledge and everybody deserves to know it" mindset from Terra.

... Yeah, somebody should wake him up to the dangerous possibilities of that soon before it comes back to bite him.]

... On your shell? [Robert places his small hands on Don's shell and does some approximation of leaning onto it. He's... being way too careful, actually.]

[He flaps his hand against the carpet.]

More.

[Robert bites back the "but I don't want to hurt you" because he figures it's actually relatively unlikely that he could.

He leans more of his paltry weight into Don, trying to spread out the pressure a little. It probably looks completely ridiculous from a third-person perspective.

Hey, at least it's giving him a nice opportunity to study Don's shell patterns...]

You... enjoy the pressure of this, correct?

Ye- [It's not enough yet. He shifts a little.] Really, more is better. You don't weigh anything.

[Robert debates just... sitting on Don's shell at this point if he wants more pressure, but for now he simply decides to lean harder into don, splaying his fingertips and almost attempting to massage what is hard and unyielding keratin.]

I am rather light, aren't I...

[Never has it been so obvious until he had a living tank as a boyfriend.]

[Don lets out a breath and seems to sink a little into the carpet.]

Mm.

[It's an 'mm' of contentment, not of agreement that you're too skinny. Even though you are.]

[~~Please ignore that capitalism failure.~~

Robert continues trying to provide adequate pressure to Don's shell, varying where he puts his hands and resting his cheek against the smooth keratin. He may just be enough of a sap to kiss Don's shell a few times, though Don might not feel them beyond weak points of heat and pressure alongside his hands.]

... I'm glad that you like this...

[It's something he can do that's nice for Don, anyway.]

[Don doesn't notice - he can't distinguish between kisses and normal touches. He's vaguely aware that Robert is laying on him, but he doesn't mind.]

[He lies quietly under his partner's hands, his demeanor completely different from the earlier "lesson".]

Only a few more minutes, okay?

Edited 2011-05-12 15:43 (UTC)

[Robert notes this to himself - Don is completely relaxed with these touches. There's no trace of his earlier panic when Robert was touching his plastron... just quiet enjoyment. He wonders why there's a discrepancy, and what he can do to help surmount it.

Is that why Don doesn't want him telling anybody else about this?]

Please inform me when you want me to stop...

... You know, your shell is quite beautiful. [It's Robert's characteristic random, blunt observation, but it's a sincere one.]

I don't really want you to... [He shifts again, half making himself comfortable, half a sort of test run for actually getting up.] You know how my family is...

[A soft smile at the random compliment.] So I've been told.

Ah. It's more simple pragmatism then. [Robert would be happy to have Don stay over, of course, but he figures that his brothers and father wouldn't be too thrilled.]

... I almost miss how mine looked... [Thoughtfully, as he continues to knead Don's resilient carapace under his fingers:] Did the one scute you kept from me actually remain after the experiment ended?

[~~For what it's worth, the mun thinks it would. After all, the Sky Bison hair stuck around...~~]

[It takes Don a minute to remember what Robert is talking about. A lot has happened since then. When he makes the connection, he brightens.]

It did.

... Did you want it back?

Other than to do analysis on it sometime? I would rather you keep it... you were the one who wanted it, and I trust that you would take better care of it than I would.

[Thoughtfully:] If the Malnosso ever make you a human again, I may ask to keep a lock of your hair or something similar...

[He'd totally analyze it too. Just to be nerdy. ~~Sentimentally nerdy.~~]

[Take better care of it? It's not like shed scutes are particularly fragile.]

[He can't help twitching at that suggestion. Despite repeated assurances to the contrary, he can't quite conceive of hair-cutting as not being painful.]

Only if I'm not someone else.

[Hey, Robert wouldn't know how fragile they are.

And Robert would gladly demonstrate on his own hair! ~~It probably needs to be cut soon anyway.~~]

Ah, yes. Of course. Otherwise I would need consent from the original owner of the body as well.

... That could be awkward.

[This conversation is getting strange. Not that Don really minds, but it's probably time to head home.]

I should go...

[Robert's expression visibly falls at this. But he obediently pulls away so that Don can get up, getting to his own feet a moment later.

Then he bites his bottom lip gently and asks in a soft voice:]

...

May I... kiss you, before you leave?

[Go go gadget blatant permission-request!]

[Don gets to his knees and then his feet, tucking his bo back into its place. He smiles shyly at the request.]

Always.

[And after that, as though something has just occurred to him:] Robert...

[Aw. That smile is enough to melt whatever defenses Robert has, and he takes a half-step towards Don - and immediately freezes at the next part, curious.]

... Yes, Don...?

[His nerdiness always wins out.]

[Or he could ask his question first.]

Didn't you tell me you have a second name?

I have a middle name, yes... Alexander.

[Robert blinks, mildly confused. Now what reason would Don have to ask this now...?]

[A middle name. Some day Don will have to ask what that is. But for now...]

Can I - call you that?

[Well, that's kind of weird.]

... You would prefer calling me Alexander over calling me Robert...?

... I mean, it's not that I mind, but wouldn't it be confusing for everyone else?

[Not to mention that Robert doesn't know why Don doesn't like his name. ~~Sob, is his name not good enough for Don either?~~]

[... That suggestion didn't seem to go over very well.]

No, but, if you don't like "Rob"... and I don't want to call you "Robert" all the time...

[Robert sort of flails his hands a bit from awkwardness. Ahh, why is this so uncomfortable...]

Well, it was more that... it was an... u-uncomfortable association moreso than me not liking it, and... [His expression softens here.] ... If... if I can be assured that things aren't going to... end, like they did with him...

... [Though, that can't be guaranteed. At any moment, Luceti could pull either one of them away...]

... I... I love you, Don... I just don't want to l-lose that, and... w-well, last time it was m-my fault.

...

I wasn't g-good enough...

[So much wrapped up in a simple nickname.]

[Don gently folds himself around his partner. They both know there are no promises.]

It's okay. I'll think of something else.

[And that's the hardest thing about this, knowing that every moment he spends with Don could possibly be his last, knowing that he could forget all of this and never be able to feel it again...

He leans closer to Don in what's obviously meant to be an attempt to cup his cheek for a kiss; his eyes are soft and a little sad but so very devotedly loving regardless.]

I want to be... good enough, for you. More than good enough...

You keep saying that. [A pause while his mouth is otherwise occupied.] I wish you would stop...

... Why?

[Robert is very hard on himself, Don.]

You deserve... well, everything, but most importantly you deserve somebody good... [And Robert is still loathe to say that he is because, really... him? He honestly still doesn't entirely get why this wonderful turtle fell for him.]

To wish anything less for you would be doing you a disservice...

[Don puts his hands on Robert's shoulders, holding him at a little distance and giving him a hard look.]

Robert, stop. You make us both sound like terrible people.

What...? Why? [Robert stares owlishly up into Don's face, completely unsure of what he did to cause this opinion.]

You're the furthest thing from terrible that I could ever think of.

[... ~~Well, okay, there is that killing people part, but he's going to quietly half-ignore that.~~]

[This is embarrassing. Don’t you know humility is a virtue?]

But you make me sound like such a - a snob…

... I most certainly didn't mean to - all I meant was that you deserve good things for a change.

So does the rest of your family, for that matter.

... [Robert slumps a little bit. Do you not want them, then? I just... w-want to make you happy, somehow...

[He's already failing at making Ami or Helios happy. Please don't say he fails at making Don happy.]

Nothing happens just because you deserve it. [He bends over to pick up his empty duffel bag.] Does anyone still follow Tao in your world?

Tao... I do not recognize the term, but I would not know personally.

[Chances are... most likely not. Tao, like many other practises and religions specific to regions, probably died out over time with the general sociocultural blending.

The rest of it just... bothers him. Basic rights should never have to be earned. They are as much inherent to ethics as anything else.]

I'll tell you about it some time. [He moves to the door.] See you soon?

[Robert doesn't want Don to go... but he can't bring himself to really stop him, so he just brushes his fingers against Don's with a small smile.]

Yes... I will see you soon, if at all possible.

... I love you, Don...

[Please visit again soon...]

[His fingers twitch a little, almost reaching back for his partner's.]

Aishiteru, Robert.

[And then he's gone, with the speed and grace that Robert may be beginning to recognize as part of his ninja training.]

[In the woods on Friday Morning Donatello might come across a small red being with white wings walking around the woods with a slight limp and confused look on his face.]

[When the tricorder picks up life signs, Don follows them eagerly - until the increasingly-precise readings make it clear that these are not reptilian life signs.]

[Dispirited, not really wanting to see anyone who isn't his brother, he almost veers away from the impending encounter. He's a beat away from a ninja-vanish when he sighs and resumes his original course. It's New Feather time, and Raphael won't be the only one in the woods who could use some help.]

[In a moment, the underbrush rustles, and out comes... something. Don sticks the beeping tricorder in his belt and tries to look friendly.]

Ah... hello.

[And the Echidna is instantly on guard when he heard the rustling of someone coming closer. The turtle is a bit taller than the average mobian, but that wasn't too odd. Not as odd as waking up in an unfamiliar woods wearing unfamiliar clothes anyway. At least the trousers were easily removed and tossed aside. Now he just had to find away out of the woods...]

[..of course that doesn't mean he's going to tell the first person he runs into that he's lost, especially when they're wearing a mask.]

...Hello.

[You don't have to tell him. He's been here long enough that he knows how things work.]

Let me guess. You just woke up in a place you've never seen before. You were wearing something that isn't yours and you found a book with your name on it.

[It occurs to him that this might sound a little creepy.]

It happens to everyone.

Everyone huh? [Yeah, knowing all that just makes Knuckles frown at you.] And why is that?

[Why?]

No one knows.

The place is called Luceti. You might be here a while.

... [Well that answered his next question.]

Luceti? Never heard of it. [And at that last part the frown deepens.] What's to stop me leaving now?

[You know apart from not being able to glide right any more and needing to get rid of these stupid wing-thing's on his back]

Edited 2011-05-07 15:20 (UTC)

[He makes a gesture in all directions.] An impenetrable barrier surrounding the village. You're welcome to go look, but nothing anyone tries has any effect on it.

Impenetrable Barrier? [That would be a problem.] I think I will check it out...

But first, can you tell me where these wings came from?
[Knuckles jerks his thumb at the new white appendages as they flutter and bump against his quills.] That happen to everyone too?

[He nods, turning just enough that you can see his own purple wings folded against his shell.] You need them. They stop hurting after a few days.

Need them? What in the world do we need them for? What, who put them there? The same person who made the barrier?
[Yeah, Knuckles doesn't like anything he's heard so far and he's starting to get frustrated.]

[You're a very interrogative little red guy.]

Read the guide.

[He will reach into his bag, pull out his own journal, and demonstrate how to access said guide.]

...Oh.

[Now he looks a little sheepish.]

I guess you get asked these questions a lot huh?

Edited 2011-05-07 17:37 (UTC)

I'm not usually the welcoming committee, actually.

[He sighs.] Sorry. I'm being rude.

[Knuckles shakes his head. You haven't attacked him yet, that would have been rude.] It's okay.

Thank you, for the guide... [Wait, he never got your name did he?]

Edited 2011-05-08 08:15 (UTC)

[He never got yours either.]

The barrier is in any direction, but if you'd rather settle in first, there's a Welcome Center for the New Feathers. [He indicates the direction you should go to find the center.] You might also want to put a message out over the journals, in case any of your friends are here.

New Feathers? [Knuckles glances over his shoulder at the wings and sighs. Still he supposes he'd been called worse things.]

Right. I think I'll check out the welcome center first. [If he's going to be stuck here he should get a feel for the place first.] Thank you again for the help. What's your name? I'm Knuckles.

Not my term.

["Knuckles"? Is that your not-as-cool-as-you-think-it-is fighter name?]

Donatello.

[No, It's my only name :|]

[The Echidna is tempted to ask what Donatello was doing in the woods but he changes his mind at the last moment]

So how long have you been here Donatello.

Over a year. [He looks weary at the thought of it.] I wasn't kidding about settling in.

Over a year... [Yeah, that was the last thing Knuckles wanted to hear.]

Edited 2011-05-09 18:29 (UTC)

[He stares at the ground for a moment.] The good news is time doesn't pass in your world while you're here.

That...

Good. [That means the Chaos Emeralds are safe, he hopes.] That's something at least.

Try to think of it as a vacation. The food is free and the activities sometimes aren't awful.

[~~A vacation? What's that?~~]

"Sometimes aren't awful?" [Knuckles manages a small smirk.] Sounds great.

[He points to the journal again.] Read the guide. [And half-turns, ready to head off into the woods.] Good luck.

[Leo kept his word, and returned a few days after his post on the network. It's a couple of days later, and he's outside again, down by the river nearest to the house. He's sharpening one of his katana, but he's also out here to try and just enjoy the quiet.]

[Don also comes down to the river some time later, by chance - he's looking for a reading spot and didn't realize this is where Leo had gone.]

[He sits down near his brother and opens the book, but doesn't read it. Instead he stares over the water and listens to the familiar rhythm of sword-sharpening.]

[He might say something eventually, if you don't first.]

[Rivers are pretty good places for calm and quiet. He looks up as Don sits next to him.]

Hey. [Some how, he can feel his brother's not there just to relax, at least not with him around.]

Everything all right?

I don't know. [He says it with the lack-of-concern that generally means he knows how to find out, but without the joy-of-imminent-discovery that tends to also accompany such declarations.]

[He doesn't know? How can he not know? He regards his brother with a bit of concern. But if it was anything too major, it would've been brought up before now. Or so he would hope.]

What's going on?

[Don is silent for a moment. Then he turns to Leo abruptly, conviction written on his features.]

I want to go to the clinic. I want to see a doctor.

I want you to come with me.

[Well, that caught him off guard.]

What? Why?

Because it might be my only chance.

To be seen by a real doctor.

[He can understand it. They usually don't have the option of seeing one. Forced to fix their own wounds.]

[He nods, looking at his toes.]

It's getting harder to think of any reason not to.

We've always taken care of our wounds ourselves.

[Though some of them were out of their capabilities.]

[Leo, you're missing the point.]

I'm not wounded.

I know.

[He looks back to his sword for a moment, sheathing it when he's done. He understands why Donny wants to go. A part of him wants to go too. To check it out. It could be useful for future injuries. Especially those that are beyond their abilities.]

All right, we'll go. [He glances up at Don.] When did you plan to go?

[Maybe you do get it.]

You'll come?

Yeah, I'll go. Would be good to check the place out.

Next week, maybe.

[He nods, giving a little smile. Don's smile is almost infectious.]

Sounds good.

So how was your trip? [Did you find what you were looking for?]

It was good. [He actually took the time to look around beyond the village. He found what he needed, and got himself together again.]

I definitely got to know the area outside of the village a little better.

Do you... want to talk about it? [What made you leave. What made you come back. Anything else that's on your mind.]

[He looks away, staring at the water. It almost looks like one of his silent 'I don't want to talk about it' dismissive stares.]

I was uprooted, isolated from you guys. All of you were replaced in that alternate world. [Don knows well how much family means to Leo.] Between that and Karai, I just..needed time to get my head around it.

[He understands a lot of what Leo is going through, and only begrudges his time away because no one else made a big deal out of it.]

We're all still here. It didn't mean anything.

[He nods silently]

I know, I'm thankful to still have my real family here. [Because it probably would of been worse if they weren't here.]

[He fiddles with a blade of grass.]

Leo... tell me something about home?

[He turns to look glance at Don, raising an eyeridge.]

Home?

[He nods.] New York. The Lair. Us.

[He's silent for a while. There's so much that's gone on, or is around at home, it's hard to pin down just one thing. Some of it they still see here, just in different forms, while others they don't.]

It's noisier at home. [He doesn't mean the tv, as they have one here.] The sound of the subway rumbling through the tunnels, vehicles or people on the street. [It's stuff they knew their whole lives, learned to ignore it, some of them might of found comfort in the noise. But here it's missing.

It's interesting what you don't miss, until you don't hear it for months. Luceti has it's own sounds, but it's not quite the same as New York.]

[Don closes his eyes and follows Leo's voice to a familiar place.]

[Tell him more.]

Edited 2011-05-31 01:51 (UTC)

[Leo closes his own eyes. His memories are still a little fresh, but they are starting to fade a little, as memories from Luceti take their own places in his mind. The sights, the smells, the tastes. He could get used to this, hell he is getting used to this, more than he'll admit to himself.]

Running the rooftops at night. Not even because of trouble or training. Just for the fun of it. [Just to blow off steam or energy, or even to get some fresh air.]

Or just racing our way through the sewer tunnels on our scooter, and bike. [Acting like teenagers, instead of serious ninjas. This seemed so general, but Leo has the feeling Don's not asking for specific stuff.]

Edited 2011-05-31 02:44 (UTC)

[A smile curls across his face. He remembers.]

You should come running with me sometime.

[He opens an eye to glance at Don, noting the smile.]

I should. Even if the roofs are short compared to New York. [He's a little amused though.]

Usually I go through the woods. It's different, so... you don't think about the comparison.

[He considers the option for a moment.]

True, that could work too. [Not to mention provide it's own challenges.]

[He glances around shiftily.]

Come with me a few mornings this week. Then when we sneak out to go to the clinic, everyone will think we're just running.

[He just nods, but then he's shooting his brother a surprised look.]

Sneak out to the clinic? Don...

[Oh.]

I don't want everyone else to know.

[You won't tell, will you?]

Why not?

[Depends if it's a good reason or not.]

Because they'll tell me not to do it.

[Okay, that's a good reason.]

All right, we'll keep it between us.

[You're the best, Leo. Don flashes you a smile, pats your knee, and stands up to go.]

Donnnnnnnniiiiiiie.

[Mike flops down next to you, wherever you are.]

Edited 2011-05-07 05:17 (UTC)

[He's on the roof of C1, the furthest apartment building from home, Mike how do you do that.]

Aah!

[Uh, ninja?]

Geez, Donnie, chillax. What're you doing, anyway?

[He swears you're also part-bloodhound.]

[Don hands Mike the book he nearly just dropped off the building.]

Decompression sickness (DCS) is due to the formation of inert gas bubbles in tissues and/or blood due to supersaturation, where either the mechanical stresses caused by bubbles or their secondary cellular effects cause organ dysfunction. DCS can be caused by a reduction in ambient pressure during ascent from a dive, rapid altitude excursion, in space or a hyperbaric/hypobaric chamber. Bubble formation occurs when decompression occurs sufficiently fast that tissue inert gas partial pressure exceeds ambient pressure, causing supersaturation and bubble formation. The resulting clinical manifestations include joint pains, cutaneous eruptions or rashes, neurological dysfunction, cardiorespiratory symptoms and pulmonary edema, shock and death. Several mechanisms have been hypothesized by which bubbles may exert their deleterious effects. These include direct mechanical disruption of tissue, occlusion of blood flow, platelet deposition and activation of the coagulation cascade, endothelial dysfunction and capillary leakage, complement activation and leukocyte-endothelial interaction.

[Mike reads the first sentence, and then looks at Don.]

[No response. He's in genius-land.]

Donnie! [Waving a hand in front of your face.] Awake, my genius brother! I have need of your skills!

Hm?

[Donnie Delayed Reaction.]

The mallies gave me video games but they're all different. Fix it pleeeeeeeeeeeease!

[His brain is still on nitrogen bubbles. He needs a better run-up to what you're thinking.]

They gave me a Playstation 3, but the games are all for this weird system I've never heard of, and they gave me Xbox controllers!

[He rubs the ridge between his eyes.] What format are the games?

Wiiiiiii. [What kinda weirdo name is that?]

[What?]

I mean, are they CD or cartridge?

[Oh.]

They're little CDs.

I can probably rip the data.

[He knew you'd come through for him!]

And the controllers? Oh, and the cords that came with it don't match anything.

I'll work on an adapter. [In between everything else he has to do.]

[You like being busy.]

Thank you thank you thank you!

I'll make you some pie for dessert tonight! And... and cookies. And... [He's not going to offer to do your chores, Donnie. Sorry.]

[Ulp.]

Please don't.

Awww, Donnie. The one time Splinter's telling you to eat sweets, and you don't want any.

[He buries his face in his hands.] No more.

[Mike pats your shell, laughing.]

Then maybe I can repay you with some creative smuggling.

You know who needs to be smuggled to?

[Open-ended question to see if you spontaneously agree with his assessment.]

Dude, Raph'll be so much less cranky when he doesn't have to eat bran muffins all the time.

[Nope.]

[A pause, while Don weighs the potential consequences of divulging these details, and then he says:]

Robert is like this.

[He indicates something about the diameter of a personal pizza.]

[Dude, he can tell that just by looking. (He's ignoring any other method you may have had of finding this out.)]

He can have some too. [The guy likes his cooking. Whatever other failings he has, this will always serve to balance out the scales somewhat.]

[Don fiddles with his book for a minute.]

Can I ask you another favor?

Sure, I'll make some cheesecake just for him. [What a good boyfriend you are. (Mike... really hopes it's as simple as that.)]

[Mike. Close mouth, open ears.]

We promised Master Splinter he would try to get more exercise. But I'm not very good at...

[He trails off. Does he have to elaborate on what he's not good at?]

Oh.

[Argh. He does owe you... well, he will. Are video games worth this? For once in his life, Mike's not sure.

Scratch that, they totally are.]

What, I gotta teach him to fight? We're talking the Karate Kid here? He has to call me Michelangelo-sensei.

No no no. [With emphatic waving of hands.] No fighting. Jogging. Maybe some light weights.

I... can do that.

But it's gonna cost you! [Mock glower.]

[In response, a more serious glower, silently conveying many dire threats if anything should happen to Robert while he is under your care.]

[Staring contest!]

[You win. Sort of.]

Forget it.

What, you can't even make a hang glider harness for a mermaid? [He'll do it, Donnie, never fear. And he'll try not to break your boyfriend in the process.]

For a -- Mike, how many people are you inviting?

Well, I haven't invited her yet...

[Seriously, Mike. Invite a few people, but Don won't be amused if a dozen of your friends show up to what's supposed to be a quiet family retreat.]

Just Ami and Keimi and maybe Lucy. Derek's already up there, so he doesn't even count.

[Don gives Mike his Sad Look. It's not nearly as good as Mike's own Sad Look, but maybe you'll take pity on him anyway?]

[Not a bad effort, but you still have much to learn.]

You're bringing Robbie. Why can't I bring people?

Rob is only one person, and he's family. You'd invite the whole town if no one stopped you.

Fine. [Grumble grumble.] Well, I can't uninvite Ami, and she's... [Practically family? Well, yeah. She's practically family.

But his throat's stuck now.]

Edited 2011-05-09 20:14 (UTC)

[Not until you say something, Mikey.]

[Don gives Mike an affectionate half-hug. He's happy you have so many friends here, and part of him hates telling you you can't invite them. But he just doesn't have your boundless social energy.]

Next time I won't let anyone stop you.

Next time? [You mean there's gonna be more hang gliding trips?]

You thought we were only doing this once?

[No more half-hug; noogie.]

[Half-hearted swat.]

Sweet!

Ami can still come this time, right?

Ami can come.

Then I guess I can put Robbie through his paces.

[Yes. Robbie.]

[Don gives Mike a look of suffering-that-has-only-just-begun.]

Slowly.

Slow paces. [-he agrees. Then-] But you gotta answer me one question.

[He raises a trepidatious brow.]

Why'd you tell me not to call him Robbie?

[Mike, what.]

Because it's disrespectful and he doesn't like it.

Not according to him.

... Huh?

He told me he liked being called Robbie. [Well, he said he didn't mind it. But that's pretty much the same thing, right?]

Wh-- Really?

[Seriously?]

[A scrutinizing look, because Don knows how good Mike is at feigning ignorance. After a moment he decides you're being ingenuous.]

... Thanks.

He's your boyfriend. You should know what he likes. Or doesn't like.

What else do you know about him that I don't? [Another kind of piercing gaze, as though he will absorb the information directly from your brain if you don't tell it to him immediately.]

[He matches that gaze, and then decides to give it to you for free. This little tidbit is worth making you happy. If you want any more, though, you'll have to bribe him for it.]

He says he likes blueberries.

[That's your best intel? 'He likes blueberries'? Disappointing, Mike.]

What else?

Fix my video games and I'll tell you.

[It almost is his best intel. Rob didn't tell him anything he wouldn't have told you.]

[You drive a hard bargain.]

I'll work on it tonight.

Good.

[And he'll tell you now, since... well, you'll see.]

Robbie... He really doesn't get stuff, does he?

[He narrows his eyes.]

What do you mean?

He said Ami is... mad at him. Or something. And he doesn't know why.

Really? She doesn't seem like the kind of person who gets mad.

Well, we're not talking yelling or punching or anything. She keeps things close to the chest, anyway. But I'm pretty sure he said something to upset her, and he has no clue what.

If he doesn't know then he must not have done it on purpose.

Of course not. But you know girls... [What. Mike, cut it out.]

[No he doesn't.]

Did he ask her what she's angry about?

I think so? But you know, she just brushed him off saying everything was fine. That's what she does. [And he finds it intriguing when she pulls it on him.]

[Deflecting. He's very familiar with that.]

Maybe he could do something nice for her?

[Don, what. Are you trying to set up your boyfriend with your brother's girlfriend?]

[Yeah, really, Mike's already suspicious of Robert on that front.]

Like what?

[And she's not his girlfriend, okay!]

Well, what does she like?

[You had better know the answer to this.]

Swimming? [He thinks.] And tea.

Robert can't swim, but he does know about tea.

So, what, he'll throw her a tea party?

Donnie, he already tried to apologize. I think we should just leave it alone.

[…]

Mike, what are you asking me?

What? You wanted to know about Robbie, I'm telling you about Robbie.

[He rubs the ridge between his eyes.] Yes, I know he's not very good with people.

I know you know. You told us already. [So what's the deal here?] You said you wanted me to tell you stuff about Robbie you didn't know. So I did.

Edited 2011-05-11 20:21 (UTC)

Never mind. [He turns his gaze to his stack of books. It suddenly looks like so much work.] Do you want to go home?

Sure! What were you doing all the way out here, anyway?

Looking for a new angle.

On what?

[Don smiles over his shoulder, hefts his bag, and jumps off the building.]

[Follow, little brother.]

[Might as well.

He jumps down after you.]

[Don takes off towards home at a fairly fast pace.]

I find it helpful to study in different places.

Like the roof of a random house?

That would be one example.

What did you need a new angle on this time? [I.e., what were all those words for?]

Not killing Robert. [Context, who needs it.]

Huh? [That sounded pretty disturbing, bro. Sometimes a little context can go a long way.]

Did you know that humans have to learn how to swim?

You're not gonna drown him, are you? Are you guys having problems? 'Cause... uh... [Mike doesn't take the question at face value, because, DUH.]

[Mike, do you really think your brother is the premeditated murder type?]

No! I'm trying to figure out how to get him a hundred feet underwater without drowning him!

[Everyone knows it's always the quiet ones...]

How're you gonna do that?

[Didn't you look at the books?]

Have you ever heard of diving bells?

[His eyes may have passed over them, yes.]

Uh... is that where the guy goes down in a suit with a tube attached to his head?

No, that's a helmet. A diving bell is -- [He makes a vague gesture without breaking his stride.] You park your air supply and use it as a dive base.

Never mind. The point is, it works, and more importantly it will work in Luceti.

It's just a little dangerous...

[That last thing is so you it makes him laugh.] Do you think Robbie is ready for your crazy inventions?

[Thanks for the vote of confidence, bro.]

He already said he would try the hang-gliders.

[Hey, he never said they don't work. They just sometimes work in... interesting ways.]

And he knows what those are?

[Just this look. Do you really think your genius brother's partner is that ignorant?]

Hey, you never know. A lotta stuff never made it to the future, you know.

And that's why people commonly study history.

Yes, he knows what hang-gliders are.

At least they still have pizza. Even if it is terrible.

I told him I'd make him some sometime. [Casually. This isn't strange at all.]

[Don has no qualms with you cooking for his boyfriend. It's not like he's providing much in that department himself.]

[He slows his pace as they approach the house.]

When are they gonna be ready, anyway?

The gliders? [He opens the door.] They're done.

So when are we gonna go?

[He makes a beeline for the kitchen and takes a big gulp of Kool Aid right out of the pitcher, before offering it to Don, wiping his mouth with his other hand.]

Thirsty?

Depends when Raph comes back. [He also drinks from the pitcher.] Depends what they've done to him.

[You had to bring that up. Mike's face falls a little.]

He'll be okay. [It's kind of a question.]

He was last time. [It's almost an answer.]

How often does it happen? [To Raph. To anyone.]

Often. [He takes another sip and then passes back the pitcher.] Mike, will you do one thing for me before Raph comes back?

[A little warily:] What?

Ransack his side of the room and find me the tin of turtle wax.

Whaddya need that for?

[Dude, you made that sound so dirty.]

It's mine and I want it back.

[You probably don’t want a more detailed explanation than that.]

Ooookay. Whatever, dude, that turtle wax is yours. But it wasn't me who got it for you, okay?

No, of course not. Why would I ask you to do that?

[He loves you.]

Exactly.

[He loves you too.]

[Now that that's taken care of -]

Wasn't there something you wanted me to fix?

Yes! Video games! They're in here! [He all but pushes Don into the living room, and then runs to his room, from which can be heard:] They're in here. I'll bring 'em to you. Do you need anything else to drink? Some snacks? Screwdrivers?

A foot rub and an uneventful week?

The toolkit in the top drawer. [Of the desk in the workroom.]

[He pretends not to have heard that. There's no WAY he's giving you the first, and he only wishes he could give them all the second.]

The what?

[He emerges with the bundles of cords and appliances in his arms, and sets them down near Donnie.]

The what?

Edited 2011-05-15 23:02 (UTC)

[He didn't even mean for you to hear it. That's what he gets for living with a bunch of ninjas.]

Never mind.

[He goes and gets the toolkit himself, then starts setting up shop on the living room floor. Show him what needs to be made to fit into where.]

See, it's a Playstation 3! But the controllers are for the Xbox. I dunno if that'll even work since they've got all different buttons. And look at these games! [He holds up a tiny disc.] What even is a Wii?

A what? [He takes the disk and squints at the name of the system printed on it, trying to figure out how to pronounce that.] Wh-yyyy? [He hands the disc back, focusing on the console first.] Sounds European.

Aw, great. A Japanese system, American controllers, and European games?!

[Muttering:] Jerks.

They certainly have a strange sense of humor. [He selects a screwdriver and starts opening the back panel of the console.]

Do you think you'll be able to fix it? [Klunk wanders in about this time and bumps his nose against the end of your screwdriver. Oh, and Mike's hovering. You might wanna watch that.]

[Don picks Klunk up and turns him around, hoping the cat will be fooled and wander off in the other direction.]

You know, I may not even need to rip the games.

[Translation: You'll be playing in no time.]

[Klunk is not fooled, you silly turtle, and he turns right around and does the exact same thing he was doing before, unperturbed.]

Sweet! [Mike fiddles with the small disc.] Brawl. Hunh.

[Don picks up Klunk again, this time dumping him in Mike's lap. Control your cat, Mikey.]

"Brawl"?

[Mike pets Klunk absent-mindedly, and the cat seems content to stay there for the moment.]

Super Smash Brothers Brawl. It's one of the games. So it must be Nintendo.

[He blinks.] Nintendo named their system "Wii"?

Apparently.

< What were they thinking... ? >

I'm hoping it's from the alternate future where that makes sense.

[What future is that?]

[Don shakes his head and goes back to taking the Playstation apart.]

[Mike starts letting Klunk play with his bandanna tails.]

How long is this gonna take?

[He pulls out the guts of the console and peers at them closely.]

I wouldn't count on playing tonight.

Aw, man! [Mike flops over backwards, spread eagle on the floor, and heave a great sigh.] This place is so laaaame.

[Yes, Mikey, whining always makes his work go faster.]

[He flips the screwdriver around, using it to point at Mike's room.]

Go. Ransack. Your room is such a dump, it will probably keep you busy for hours.

I'm not gonna clean my room for fun!

[What're you, nuts?]

[But "ransack" is like the opposite of "clean".]

[Don shrugs and starts fiddling around with the processor in a way that is pretty obviously not accomplishing anything.]

[He didn't recognize the word, and went by context clues. Just be glad some of your reading advice stuck with him.]

Whatcha doin' now?

[Is there a big red button he can push?]

I'm looking at the read drive.

[There is, but it's on the controller, which clearly isn't connected to anything.]

Nnnn. I need my fix, man.

[Mike picks up one of those controllers, actually, and starts button mashing, staring off into space like if he imagines hard enough it'll help the craving.]

[... That's really worrying, Mikey.]

Mike. Bring me the turtle wax and I'll give you something to help with the withdrawal.

...huh?

[He's taking over your Delayed Reaction gig, man.]

[Smaller words, then.]

I have a game on my computer. I'll trade it to you for the turtle wax.

Really!?

[Mike jumps up and bounds away without another word.]

[When Mike returns, Don's computer will be beside him on the floor, one keystroke away from loading the game. Whether or not the requisite keystroke is entered depends on whether Mike was successful in his mission.]

[It's going to be a while before that happens, Donnie-boy. You'll be able to hear sounds of mayhem and stuff getting tossed around for quite a few minutes before Mike emerges.]

All I could find is this stuff. [He tosses you a tin of Vitashell and sits down.] Are you sure Raph keeps turtle wax in his room?

[He catches the tin and reads the label.] That's it. [And it vanishes into his belt.]

Your reward, brave adventurer. [He strikes a key on the laptop, and a mostly-familiar text interface loads up. It looks like the old Infocom games, but the words are new.]

That's not turtle wax!

It doesn't matter what it is; you never saw it. [And he resumes his work in a way that clearly implies "One more word and your Frankenconsole is scrap."]

Okay, okay, sheesh.

[Mike turns back to the computer and taps a few keys.]

What is this? I've never heard of it.

I call it 'Tremendous Tunnel Adventure'.

You made this?

I was bored.

Hunh.

[Well, so is he. He'll give a whirl.]

You are standing in a square by a fountein. There is a ladder leading down into a tunnel. Also there are buildings all around but dont bother with them, I haven't coded that part of the game yet.

/go down ladder

You are in a tunell running north and south. A ladder leads up to the surface. You feel a little strange.

There is a book here.

/pick up book

Taken.

/eat book

It isnt very nutricous.

/read book

ERROR: Missing parameter.

You are in a tunell running north and south. A ladder leads up to the surface. You feel a little strange.

[Mike grunts in frustration.]

/walk north

The tunnel here is very dark. You are likely to be eaten by a grue.

What the heck is a grue? [He mumbles.]

/walk north

With a flash of jagged claws and slavvering fangs, a grue dissends upon you.

You are dead.

Start over?

What!?

[Donnie, this game is lame.]

/start over

[Don glances up, then resumes his work.]

I don't know the word "start".

Start over?

/yes

You are standing in a square by a fountein. There is a ladder leading down into a tunnel. Also there are buildings all around but dont bother with them, I haven't coded that part of the game yet.

/go down ladder

You are in a tunell running north and south. A ladder leads up to the surface. You feel a little strange.

There is a book here.

/walk south

The tunnel here is lit by gratings. A shallow stream runs down the middle.

There is an empty bottle here.

/get bottle

Taken.

eat bottle

That would hurt.

/use bottle

Do what with it?

/drink from bottle

The bottle is empty.

/break bottle

You smash the bottle.

There are jagged shards of glass on the ground.

/walk south

The water here is deeper. Mold grows on the walls. There is a door leading to the east.

/open door

The door is open.

/go through door

You are in a chamber. In the middle of the chamber is a statchue of a man. A glow seems to emenate from the statchue. There is a plack on the base.

A door leads to the west.

/read plack

The plack says:

HAMATO YOSHI
HERO WHO DEFEATED THE MALNOSSO

All who invoke his name will find help.

[Nice, bro.]

/say hamato yoshi

The light grows brighter. The statchue appears to bow its head to you. The plack swings open on hinges and a shelf slides out from behind it. There are weapons on the shelf. A voice whispers "choose one".

There are katana, sai, nunchaku, and a bo staff here.

/pick up nunchaku

[Duh.]

Taken.

/use nunchaku

Nice technique!

/walk east

You walk behind the statchue.

There is a feather here.

/pick up feather

Taken.

/use feather

Nothing happens.

/walk south

There is a wall.

/where am i anyway

I don't understand.

/walk south

There is a wall.

/punch wall

Ouch!

/walk north

There is a wall.

/im going to die in here!

I beg you're pardon?

/walk west

You are in a chamber. In the middle of the chamber is a statchue of a man. A glow seems to emenate from the statchue.

A door leads to the west.

There are katana, sai, and a bo staff here.

/take sai

The sai vanish!

The statchue seems to wave its finger at you.

/walk west

The water here is deeper. Mold grows on the walls. There is a door leading to the east.

/walk east

You are in a chamber. In the middle of the chamber is a statchue of a man. A glow seems to emenate from the statchue.

A door leads to the west.

There are katana and a bo staff here.

/hulk smash statchue

Come again?

/walk east

You walk behind the statchue.

/walk west

You are in a chamber. In the middle of the chamber is a statchue of a man. A glow seems to emenate from the statchue.

A door leads to the west.

There are katana and a bo staff here.

[Alright, that's about all Mike can stand.]

Nnng, Donnie, this game is lame.

It isn't finished yet.

[But look what is finished - the plugs of the Xbox controllers are somehow fitting into the ports of the Playstation. Isn't your brother awesome?]

Hey, cool.

[Par for the course.

Mike gets up and walks to the kitchen.]

Want something?

[You're welcome.]

Just something small.

I think there's still some of that better than sex cake. Want a piece?

[What? It could be a small piece.]

Sure.

[As long as you don’t make any obnoxious comments about it.]

[He already got it out of his system like a million years ago. We're talking like he hasn't made a crack about it all day. You're safe, bro.]

Want some milk too?

No thanks.

[Mike returns with the cake (your slice is quite a bit smaller than his, which means it's about a normal sized piece) and sits down again.

With his mouth full:] Man, who knew mayonnaise went so good in cake?

[Oh, did he mention that yet?]

[Don sets the cake aside. He may or may not remember to eat it. Purposely or otherwise.]

I don’t want to know.

Hey, it's what the recipe said.

Are you gonna eat that?

I don’t think cake crumbs will help the read lens work better, Mikey.

I'll take that as a no, then.

[Brb, stealing ur cake.]

[Um, okay. He'll just keep fixing your video games.]

[Klunk saunters over again, nosing into what Donnie's doing. Mike tries to tempt him away with a bit of cake.]

Here, kitty. Come here, Klunkers. Don't you want some delicious cake?

[Don scoots around, presenting his shell to the kitten.]

Cake probably isn't good for cats either, you know.

Really? [Just as Klunk is finally coming around to nose at the cake, Mike pops it in his mouth, prompting a put-out Klunk to yowl.]

Okay, okay, you're hungry, I get it. [Mike picks up the cat and takes him to the kitchen, where he pours him a bowl of cat food. At least he's out of your shell now.]

[Don will refrain from mentioning that mayonnaise cake is likely not the most healthful foodstuff for turtles either. He's sure that somewhere between the junk food and the video games, you'll still manage to get plenty of exercise.]

[Mike returns a moment later, leaving Klunk munching away in the kitchen.]

Are you done yet?

No.

Why noooot?

[Really, Mikey? Really?]

[Mike rolls over on the couch and presses a pillow over his face.]

I'm boooooooooored!

[Ignoring.]

How long?

[Not dignifying this with a response.]

Nnng.

[Mike gets up and disappears into the kitchen, and soon pots and plans are clattering noisily.]

[Some time later, Don joins you in the kitchen. You may feed him now.]

Don't eat those.

[The innocent-looking brownies. But apparently the two batches of cookies are safe.]

[Don obediently eats the cookies.]

What are you making?

Brownies. Again.

[A little suspiciously:] What's wrong with the other ones?

Dude, I don't know if you've noticed, but salt and sugar look exactly the same.

[He has noticed. To the occasional detriment of his morning coffee.]

Aren't you going to throw them out?

Nah, they'll make good prank props.

Is that how you thank me for fixing your video games?

By warning you in advance?

Yes.

[He foresees no brownies in his future. Not that he really wanted any.]

How long are you planning to save them?

[Because this is obviously no time for pranks.]

...I dunno.

[The fact that even Mike recognizes this is no time for pranks brings Don down a little. He moves to put a reassuring hand on his brother's shoulder.]

I left it on the title screen for you.

[Those are clearly video games, not a grappling hook.

He loves you, bro.]

[With that much needed break, and with Mike safely occupied in front of the TV, Don will pick up his books and return to the problem of decompression sickness.]

[True to his word, sometime during the afternoon, Caesar will be outside of the stable near his house with his little dog (http://gensopedia.duefiumi.com/images/1/10/Kogoro.jpg). Well, the dog is running around, probably chasing something, and Caesar's just kind of leaning against the stable and watching him, but it's totally the same thing. He's waiting, of course, for his new acquaintance to show up, but it's a nice day out ~~I hope~~, so he doesn't mind too much.]

[The acquaintance materializes after a while - but you may get the feeling he's actually been standing there for some time.]

Hi.

[And had you realized he's a giant turtle?]

[Caesar blinks at him for a moment, but it's not too shocking a sight. He's more surprised because this explains that whole "being watched" feeling rather than the fact that he's a giant turtle. He waves a hand at him.]

Yo. [He gestures toward the little dog, who stops running around when Don approaches.] His name is Kogoro.

[Don nods to the young man and to the dog, greeting them equally.] Caesar. Kogoro. What can I do for you? [That might just sound like a plural "you".]

((On flimsy evidence I headcanon that the Turtles can "talk" to animals. Not exactly in words, but a general impression of what the animal is thinking and feeling. And animals can likewise "read" the thoughts and feelings of the Turtles. Godmod this as you will.))

[The dog barks cheerfully when he's acknowledged. It's a little different, Caesar notes—it's been a while since Kogoro's actually interacted with any other animals, and the bark is clearly directed toward Donatello. Not just at him, but to him. Interesting.]

Anything you are willing to. As long as it's not any trouble. I've read a few things, but otherwise, I don't know very much about training an animal.

[Don smiles at Kogoro, then turns back to Caesar.] You said he was messy?

I suppose he's cleaner than most dogs. Apparently, that's not unusual for his breed.

[Kogoro barks again, this time, in objection. He doesn't think he's very messy at all.]

[Don listens to both of these statements before questioning Caesar again.]

Do you mean he's dirty, or he has messy habits?

Messy habits would be more appropriate, I guess.

[Don takes a seat in the grass, gesturing for Caesar to sit also. He then addresses Kogoro.]

He says you make a mess. Why is that?

[Depending on Kogoro's opinion of Caesar's comments, this could be "Why is your master saying slanderous things?" or "Why are you such a slob?"]

[Caesar sits down right after him, keeping an eye on his dog. The dog barks oddly again in protest, because he still doesn't think he's messy. Caesar, on the other hand...]

He was a stray.

[Messy people often deny their own mess.]

He's not used to living in a house. [- Don surmises.]

[He nods.]

The most reasonable explanation. Though I guess he's not as bad as he could be.

[This should be easy enough to solve.]

Does he get enough exercise outdoors?

I think so. I let him out whenever I'm out.

[That all sounds good. Don glances again at Kogoro, then says:] I think you just need to teach him the difference between inside and outside.

Sounds fair. [He nods.] But how can I get him to understand that?

[Don stands up and gestures for Caesar and Kogoro to follow him into the empty stable.]

[Caesar tilts his head, but he stands up and follows after him. Kogoro happily follows their example.]

Hey, Kogoro. [Don crouches down to the dog's level.] Look here. When you're outside - [He points out the door.] - you can play, but in an enclosed place like this - [He gestures around at the walls and ceiling.] - you have to follow some rules.

[He looks up at Caesar.] What are the rules?

Forty-Third Theory [Mostly Action]

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[Action; rainy day (more distinct date when calendar's released?)]

Fine, mods, don't give us a calendar

WE'LL HAVE OUR OWN CALENDAR okay not really

/invents two new months

*makes time metric*

/converts

SOON I WILL CONVERT THE WORLD

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makes time metric