i_speak_softly | Forty-Eighth Theory [Accidental Video/Action for Housemates]

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Forty-Eighth Theory [Accidental Video/Action for Housemates]

[It should be immediately obvious that Don didn't mean to turn his journal on, and isn't even aware that it is on. He isn't looking at it. He isn't saying anything. In fact, he might not be awake. He's just sitting slumped in a chair, his head on the desk-like counter before him.]

[If you look past Donatello to the background of the scene, you might be able to identify the setting as a subway car. A very strange subway car, though - it's stuffed with technology that might look futuristic even to someone from the same world and time as Don.]

[Do you quietly look away, Lucetians? Or do you intrude on the private moment?]

((Backdated to a little earlier this morning, thanks LJ.))

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[ hmm. the impetuous slayer has a few choice bones to pick with the turtle and her mouth is quick to open when she sees him over the journal: ] Donatel--?

[ her voice dies out. is he asleep? a frown. ] Don?

[April...? The illusory Mousers last night were bad enough; Don can't deal with a hologram of the friend he's been missing for half a year. He buries his face further into his arm and doesn't answer.]

[ oh, sweet tradition! ]

Don. [ a little firmer, this time. ]

[It sounds so real. Maybe he did it. Maybe he fell through, and that is April, coming to shoo him to bed.]

[He sits up and looks behind him - which happens to be completely the opposite direction from the journal.]

April?

[ a dry chuckle. ]

Sorry, kiddo. Still just me. Again. Once more. Buffy. Over here? Journal-ward? Hello?

[Don stares at the empty Lair for a long moment before slowly, reluctantly, turning back. His gaze searches the cluttered desk for the journal. When he finds it, finds Buffy's broadcast image, his eyes are sad and distant.]

Buffy... We need to stop meeting this way.

We do seem to have a penchant for the sad and the identity-mistaken.

[ that look on his face! she feels doubly guilty for the subject she wants to eventually broach. ] Something up? What's that behind you?

[He picks up the journal, turns it to give Buffy a fuller view of the scene.]

This is my home. This is - the last place I remember being, before I woke up in Luceti.

...The Shift -- [ quietly. ]

I know. [He recovers a little, turns the journal back.] It isn't even how I left it. It's from later.

It's gotta be a glitch in the dome. I mean, when you think about the baddies that have been popping up...

I don't want to talk about them. [It now occurs to him that while the journal may have started broadcasting without his permission, it very probably didn't bother to filter itself. He'll rectify that now.] Did you need something?

I did, actually -- but if you're not...I mean, if you're busy...

[ it's an important something but she still respects donatello. he helped her out while she was botted, after all. ]

No, just wasting time. [Really, 'falling through'? It will never work. Anyway, he's only halfway committed to wanting it to work.] Hold on a minute.

[100% filter starts ... now.]

What can I do for you?

[ she may as well be blunt: ] What are you going to do to the Joanna Joyce? Smoker said you'll be looking after it if he manages to confiscate it. [ and she doesn't sound convinced of the likelihood. ]

[Joanna Joyce? It takes him a minute to place what Buffy is talking about.]

Oh, Captain Sparrow's ship. I just wanted to borrow it.

[His tone implies that this is no big deal and nothing to be ashamed of.]

Wanted to...what? You mean -- you're actually behind this? It wasn't Smoker's idea?

No, I asked for his help. Pirates are kind of his specialty.

And I guess you might've gone and conveniently not come to the realization that the boat might mean an awful lot to people who aren't Jack Sparrow?

[Blank look. Don's brothers are only interested in his vehicles if they're cool and go fast. Why would anyone care about Jack's ship?]

[ she barrels forward, undaunted: ] Take the name, for instance. Joanna Joyce. Joanna would be Doctor McCoy's daughter. Joyce? My mom. [ her dead mom. ]

[Intriguing. It had never occurred to him to name an invention after a person.]

Did he... build it for you?

What? No. It's his boat, through and through. But he...[ hmm. she considers the filter. ] But he wasn't just thinking about himself by the end of building it.

[Hm. Maybe diplomacy is in order.]

Is there any chance you could convince him to loan it to me?

I would've said yes if this was before you set Smoker on him. [ a sigh. ]

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