i_speak_softly (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
i_speak_softly) wrote2012-10-11 06:06 am
i_speak_softly) wrote2012-10-11 06:06 am
Sixty-Third Theory [Voice/Action]
[Voice - October 10]
[This is too important for his usual mangled speech, so Don communicates what he wants to say to Robert, and makes the man repeat it over and over until Don can echo it correctly into the journals:]
Leonardo has gone home.
[Action - October 11]
[The next day, Don turns his mind to practical matters. House 55, which at times has had as many as six residents, is now down to two. At this point it's just silly to keep using the space in the same way. So, on this rainy afternoon, Don heads to the library to pore over diagrams of the floorplan that he has accumulated, and to think about how much has changed since he first moved there with Raph, Casey, and Derek.]
[How long ago that seems: a human inviting him to live in their house. Not just as a temporary refuge, but permanently. And somehow, it had worked. Meals were shared, holidays were celebrated, and aside from the regular trials attendant upon living in Luceti, times were good. Human housemates came and went, and his entire family arrived. That hadn't gone as well as Don might have hoped, but he doesn't regret having had them all together once more. And then the slow attrition, until now --]
[He has never been the only Turtle before. Yes, he had been separated from his brothers, both here and at home, but there had always been at least one of them out there somewhere. Now he is the last of his kind of this world, with no way of getting back where he belongs. There's an emptiness in his spirit, a sense of being lost.]
[And somewhere under the wrongness, a seed of fear: Since his death loss, Leo was the only one who could understand him effortlessly. Don had really relied on that easy communication, and Leo's help in translating his thoughts to others. Even if he has served most of the time until he can get the loss restored - he really hopes his math is right - the remainder of it is going to be draining. He can't lose another person he cares about, but how can he keep a relationship together when every conversation is a battle?]
[And what about the impending cold weather, which he can already feel creeping up on Luceti? His ability to speak will be returned just as his opportunities to go out and talk to people are diminished sharply. He foresees himself spending a lot of time with the journal...]
[The winter room is too much for just one Turtle, but since the major construction is already complete, Don just makes some minor tweaks to his plans for stocking it. He dawdles over his blueprints for much longer than is strictly necessary, until late in the afternoon he looks wistfully at all the books he can't read - just a few more weeks - and heads home.]
[Action - October 14]
[Donatello is not okay. His coping methods have collapsed, and he can't deal with this. In a haze of grief and loneliness, he goes to the Battle Dome, picks a program he hasn't seen before, and sets it on a stupidly difficult level. Then he battles artificial enemies until the simulation aborts. In the empty chamber, he screams wordlessly at the walls, not caring who can hear him. When the rage is spent, leaving only the pain, he limps home, bleeding from everywhere. He is not in a mood to accept help.]
[This is too important for his usual mangled speech, so Don communicates what he wants to say to Robert, and makes the man repeat it over and over until Don can echo it correctly into the journals:]
Leonardo has gone home.
[Action - October 11]
[The next day, Don turns his mind to practical matters. House 55, which at times has had as many as six residents, is now down to two. At this point it's just silly to keep using the space in the same way. So, on this rainy afternoon, Don heads to the library to pore over diagrams of the floorplan that he has accumulated, and to think about how much has changed since he first moved there with Raph, Casey, and Derek.]
[How long ago that seems: a human inviting him to live in their house. Not just as a temporary refuge, but permanently. And somehow, it had worked. Meals were shared, holidays were celebrated, and aside from the regular trials attendant upon living in Luceti, times were good. Human housemates came and went, and his entire family arrived. That hadn't gone as well as Don might have hoped, but he doesn't regret having had them all together once more. And then the slow attrition, until now --]
[He has never been the only Turtle before. Yes, he had been separated from his brothers, both here and at home, but there had always been at least one of them out there somewhere. Now he is the last of his kind of this world, with no way of getting back where he belongs. There's an emptiness in his spirit, a sense of being lost.]
[And somewhere under the wrongness, a seed of fear: Since his death loss, Leo was the only one who could understand him effortlessly. Don had really relied on that easy communication, and Leo's help in translating his thoughts to others. Even if he has served most of the time until he can get the loss restored - he really hopes his math is right - the remainder of it is going to be draining. He can't lose another person he cares about, but how can he keep a relationship together when every conversation is a battle?]
[And what about the impending cold weather, which he can already feel creeping up on Luceti? His ability to speak will be returned just as his opportunities to go out and talk to people are diminished sharply. He foresees himself spending a lot of time with the journal...]
[The winter room is too much for just one Turtle, but since the major construction is already complete, Don just makes some minor tweaks to his plans for stocking it. He dawdles over his blueprints for much longer than is strictly necessary, until late in the afternoon he looks wistfully at all the books he can't read - just a few more weeks - and heads home.]
[Action - October 14]
[Donatello is not okay. His coping methods have collapsed, and he can't deal with this. In a haze of grief and loneliness, he goes to the Battle Dome, picks a program he hasn't seen before, and sets it on a stupidly difficult level. Then he battles artificial enemies until the simulation aborts. In the empty chamber, he screams wordlessly at the walls, not caring who can hear him. When the rage is spent, leaving only the pain, he limps home, bleeding from everywhere. He is not in a mood to accept help.]
[Voice]
[Voice]
... [There are a lot of things he could say, really. The main problem will be making them coherent. But he wants to do something right now, other than cry.]
[Voice]
Would you like to meet?
[Voice]
But maybe Don wants to be alone? He wishes there was a way to tell that didn't involve asking him.]
... I... [Quietly, with the drifting uncertainty and helplessness of somebody uprooted from everything:] ... I am... n-not certain...
[Voice]
It's alright. You should do what you think is best to support him.
[Voice] | wow I apologize for the epic delay; for some reason I didn't track this
[He doesn't want to let Don out of his sight, not yet. It's too fresh.]
[Voice] no worries <3
I'll definitely stay here.
[Voice] ;w; thank you~
[There's a brief silence then, as he collects himself; an audible hitching breath.]
... Doctor Mizuno... wh-what am I to do if... if he refuses to allow me to... h-help him...?
[Voice] always <3