Forty-Third Theory [Mostly Action]

[i_speak_softly]

((General post for the next two weeks or so. Preemptive tl;dr, find him anywhere, though suggestion of day/place/activity is appreciated.))

[As May begins, and as a fairly large percentage of May goes by, Donatello can be found doing the following things:

-Jogging through the woods, tracking down any signs of life detected by the departed Mr. Scott's not-really-new-and-not-exactly-improved-either tricorder. ((New Feathers, feel free to jump in here.))

-Hauling huge loads of books to and from the library.

-Studying these books - in and around House 55, at the library itself, by the fountain, at the coffee shop, alongside the river... pretty much anywhere.

-Copying diagrams from the books into his journal.

-Working at the smithy, trying to create physical equivalents of these diagrams.

-Digging through bins at the item shop.

-Practicing wind magic or good old-fashioned ninjutsu in various open areas around the edges of the village.

And a few more specific actions:]


[Don needs a few minutes of your time. If you don't dare to approach him while he's working, he'll come looking for you.]



[Some rainy evening, Don will show up at Robert's door with a duffel bag and a goofy grin. You owe him a nanocomputer demonstration - and he brought you a gift.]



Frederic, a question, if you have a minute...

Comments

[the-mikester.livejournal.com]

Hey, it's what the recipe said.




Are you gonna eat that?

[i_speak_softly]

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

[the-mikester.livejournal.com]

I'll take that as a no, then.

[Brb, stealing ur cake.]

[i_speak_softly]

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

[the-mikester.livejournal.com]

[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?

[i_speak_softly]

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

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

[the-mikester.livejournal.com]

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.]

[i_speak_softly]

[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.]

[the-mikester.livejournal.com]

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

Are you done yet?

[i_speak_softly]

No.

[the-mikester.livejournal.com]

Why noooot?

[i_speak_softly]

[Really, Mikey? Really?]

[the-mikester.livejournal.com]

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

I'm boooooooooored!

[i_speak_softly]

[Ignoring.]

[the-mikester.livejournal.com]

How long?

[i_speak_softly]

[Not dignifying this with a response.]

[the-mikester.livejournal.com]

Nnng.

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

[i_speak_softly]

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

[the-mikester.livejournal.com]

Don't eat those.

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

[i_speak_softly]

[Don obediently eats the cookies.]

What are you making?

[the-mikester.livejournal.com]

Brownies. Again.

[i_speak_softly]

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

[the-mikester.livejournal.com]

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

[i_speak_softly]

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

Aren't you going to throw them out?

[the-mikester.livejournal.com]

Nah, they'll make good prank props.