i_speak_softly | Fifty-First Theory [Written/Voice/Action]

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Fifty-First Theory [Written/Voice/Action]

[This morning, instead of going for his usual run, Don settles himself at his desk in the back room. The door is open and a pencil is poked thoughtfully between his teeth. When he begins to write, it isn't filtered, but courtesy of a translation-shield, anyone trying to read the entry will see something that looks more like a Danish cryptogram than anything intelligible. It's a code Don uses for his private notes: only his brothers or an extraordinarily gifted linguist would have a hope of being able to figure it out.]

BGTVULWG - Wvlz hltwqszu bluul kgf bj svg hblfl. Bj ilkqtblf bqs q lu zu lb pvwblu WJDLUQ, gs bj zpflh bqzzal tgulf bqs zlwh, lkulf vu bj nvhbl iglu nl f q lu vg gs lt vwh.

[A little later in the morning, Don leaves the following message.]

Filtered to everyone he can think of that he would consider a friend || Unhackable

All my friends here in Luceti... would you say a few words about yourself? For my notes.

[Much later, in the evening, Don goes out for his run. Now that Shredder is gone, he's allowed to go out after dark again. He knows he doesn't have long before the nights get too cold for this, so he's going to enjoy it while he can.]

((OOC: On Ami's suggestion, Don is working on the in-game equivalent of a timeline and a CR chart.))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

[Don bites his lip and turns away. He knows he probably should, but... he never has. What could he possibly write that would make anyone feel any better?]

[Robert doesn't have anything in mind when he writes. He just writes, to pour out all those things that he may never actually say but need to get to them somehow. All the things that he hoped he would have adequate descriptors for at some point.

Still, everybody deals with it differently. Don doesn't need to write, as much as Robert would treasure it. He still treasures that one note...]

The only problem is condensing my feelings for you sufficiently...

[Don turns his journal to this, Mike's comic still on the back of it.]

You're not going to write another one of these?

Edited 2011-10-07 11:32 (UTC)

I could... but I suspect it would take several journal pages to write. [He smiles weakly at that, tracing a finger over the edge of Mike's comic, one of the few reminders of the turtle's presence in Luceti.]

... it may be what I settle on, though. A few sentences would not even be nearly enough to describe you...

[Don fishes in the desk-mess for a pen and offers it to Robert, then turns to a clean page of his journal and begins to laboriously write more of his code.]

[Taking the pen and turning to the journal himself, Robert peers down at the blank pages, trying to think of what he should write about his lover.

Words come to mind. Intelligent, wonderful, accepting, dedicated... but they aren't enough. This one might need math to best model...

... Yeah, he's scribbling out an elaborate mathematical equation now, in Terran math. In pen.]

[Don mumbles to himself and fidgets with things on the desk as he fills the page with notes. He's not particularly paying attention to what Robert is doing, aside from the fact that he's still sitting there.]

[Softly, more to himself than anything:] Don, you are certainly difficult to... model for.

... This is a rather inadequate model, as well. But I think it is the closest I can get.

[... It's a complex tangle of mathematical concepts, illustrating things like change of attraction over time, intensity of desire for and Don's qualities, like his intelligence... it looks like a mess.]

[Don reads the equation, immediately understanding what it shows.]

You didn't finish it.

[He adds another sequence of symbols, and the equation becomes a closed loop, a balanced system.]

There.

[...

This is exactly why Robert loves Don.]

... And now it is beautiful.

I would say nearly perfect.

Call it a working theory.

[Don pats Robert's knee and turns back to his notes.]

[In response, Robert peers curiously over at Don's notes.]

... Are you recording information about other people right now? Or... is it something else entirely?

[Don sighs, rubs the ridge between his eyes, and resettles his wings in an irritated gesture.]

Um... Things about people I know.

I do not wish to pry... [He trails off, awkwardly resettling himself in his chair at that. Irritating Don is not what he meant to do, not that he can entirely tell that he did it.]

... I just hope it is a successful endeavour.

[Not your fault. Still, Don is just going to put his pencil down and... wait until you're finished.]

It can't hurt, anyway.

[Probably a good thing to do - having a curious person sitting next to you while you're doing something you'd rather not be questioned about is a recipe for awkward.

Luckily, Robert brushes it off quickly enough.]

It is... one of those precautions that one takes, hoping one will never need to find oneself using it - but being inordinately glad that one had thought to make it, in the event one has to.

[Which is a very roundabout way of agreeing.]

[... What.]

Is that a quote from something?

... Not that I am aware of... [Yes, he just comes up with sentences like that on his own. ~~The mun doesn't think he's quoting anything...~~]

... Did it sound like one?

It sounds like something Master Splinter would say. Like when he was teaching us to break our thumbs.

...

Why on Terra would he teach you to break your thumbs? [That is utterly incomprehensible, and slightly horrifying to boot.]

So we can get out of handcuffs. [He tilts his head.] You didn't know about that?

No... I had never heard that sort of rhetoric.

[Then again, he supposes a lot of the rhetoric that the family knows wouldn't be something he would understand.]

Breaking your own digits... [There's a cold horror in Robert's voice at that.]

It's better than the alternative. [But never mind that. He taps Robert's knee urgently.] Are you saying you don't know how to escape restraints?

[He shakes his head, in an awkward sort of way.] It, er, was never knowledge I... came into much contact with.

[Generally if Robert were to have been restrained his reaction would be to panic instead of escape. Um.]

[Don regards Robert with a mixture of horror and admiration. He doesn't know this. He doesn't need to.]

What kind of precautions do you know about?

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