i_speak_softly | Sixty-Fourth Theory [Action/Voice]

[Enter one confused New Feather who just happened to be checking out his journal when Don made his little announcement.]

Um... thank you for the advice.

[What even is he talking to?]

Edited (typo :V) 2012-11-11 20:59 (UTC)

[OH BOY A NEW PERSON.]

Hi. Is this your first time here? Where are you from? Is there anything I can help you with?

Yes, it is. I'm from Elibe, and... maybe you could help me with something.

[This... guy or whatever he is sounds a little too eager, and asks a lot of questions. But Roy is patient so it's okay.]

Elibe! Never heard of it. I'm from - from New York. [It feels so good to be able to find the right names for things.] Go ahead; I know lots of answers.

New York? I've never heard of it, either. And my name is Roy, by the way. It's a pleasure to meet you.

[...]

Actually, could you explain these contraptions in the kitchen?

Donatello.

Do you mean the applications? [That's not right.] The appliances?

Is what what you call them?

I think so. I'm pretty sure. [He still doesn't trust his ability to self-monitor, but it feels right.]

[You're not exactly earning his confidence here, Don.]

Do you know what they are for? And how they work?

[Right, yes, sounding like he knows what he's talking about.]

Sure. The tall one with two doors is called a - a refrigerator, and it's for keeping food cold. The one with the knobs is an oven on the inside and a stove on top, and that's for cooking. The small one with the buttons is a... is a... [Too many words, hold on.] A microwave. It's good for reheating things.

[Phew. He thinks he got all that right. The effort was exhausting but deeply satisfying.]

[Well that's certainly helpful, and now Roy experimentally pokes at one of the appliances.]

How do they operate?

[Don will hear a couple beeps in the background and then a thrum of energy as a microwave comes to life. And in the next moment a thud as Roy is startled and drops his journal.]

Edited 2012-11-13 22:08 (UTC)

Scientifically or functionally?

[That did not sound good.]

Are you okay?

[Roy picks up the journal again as the microwave continues to run in the background.]

I'm fine. I wasn't expecting it to glow and make noise. But um... functionally.

Erm... you use a microwave by putting food in it, and then pushing the number buttons to tell it how long to cook. Learning the times is kind of a trial-and-error thing.

Wait what? You just tell it how long with these "buttons?"

[MIND = BLOWN]

[Roy plays around with this and a series of beepings can be heard and the microwave stopping and starting repeatedly as he sets it for like five seconds then counts down the numbers. He comes from a world where even clocks don't exist yet you know.]

This is amazing.

[Again the microwave is going. Then it stops as he opens the door, then starts again when he closes it. This goes on a few more times. Roy may have just found his new favorite thing.]

[Don just listens silently. He loves watching people discover the joys of technology.]

[Roy still has many more joys to discover too! But for now, the microwave will do.]

Thank you for your help. I do have one more question, and I hope you don't find me rude for asking but... What are you?

[It's a little rude, but he's used to it.]

[... Not in the mood to give a straight answer, though.]

I'm an engineer.

Pardon?

[Yeah, that's a word that's completely foreign to him. But had he known it was such a sensitive subject, Roy certainly wouldn't have asked.]

Edited (wrong icon :V) 2012-11-14 03:25 (UTC)

An engineer. I'm better at fixing stoves than cooking on them.

I see.

[So an engineer refers to something he does. Not quite what he was going for, but he recognizes dodging a question when he sees it. Thus he'll leave it be out of respect.]

Again, thank you for your help, Donatello.

[DON'T LEAVE HIM HE'S LONELY.]

Is there anything else I can help with?

[... Um.]

I don't believe so? But if I think of something I'll be sure to contact you.

[...]

Is there something you need?

A distraction?

[Really. Anything.]

[ did this guy just get a new thesaurus? ]

Zombie viruses?

[No, he got a brain that processes language production correctly.]

There was a draft recently to deal with some zombies. It turned out to be caused by a highly infectious disease. The zombie-ism, I mean. A cure was found, though.

Hm.

Hypothetical surprises are a little hard to come up with at the moment, all things considered. [ everything here is pretty much one surprise after another.

...Take, for example, what apapears to be a talking turtle man, although for someone who grew up around fishmen this isn't too out there. ]

[But he wants to come up with one. 8| ]

Let's make one together. One day the Malnosso announced that every villager would get a chance to ...?

[ Dryly. ] Go home?

To go home. That actually happened once. But in this hypothetical situation, anyone who wanted to go home first had to ...?

Oh, did it? [ That seems strange. ]

Hm. [ Something surprising? She hasn't tried to tell tall tales in years. ] Solve a riddle. Which entailed...?

Sort of.

Several impossible math problems. But one person...

[ Casting around for an improbable course of action. ] Eats their test sheet instead? So the others...

Accuse the Malnosso of rigging the exam. To which the Malnosso reply that...

Of course they rigged the exam; that was the point of the exam. So everyone...

Quit, walked out, and instead decided to...

Start a poker game. [ at complete random. ] In order to...

Have some odds that were more favorable. But...

Unfortunately the cards were marked! Because...

One of the players had made a side bet on the game. The wager was...

"Mission points". [ She'd read about those. ] And with those points he got...

A trip home. Which only proves that cheaters never win. I think.

Depends on how good the cheater is, I'd say.

Could be. That was kind of fun, anyway.

It kept me busy. I don't think I ever got your name...?

Donatello.

Nojiko.

Nice meeting you, Nojiko. Is there anything else you want to talk about?

Not particularly, if that was my cue to go.

Not at all. I could use the company.

Is there anything you have on your mind, then?

[He laughs, almost manically.]

A lot, but you probably don't want to hear any of it.

I wouldn't say that. I'll listen to whatever it is.

[He'll start with this, then:]

I died and my death loss was not really being able to speak, but now it's been fixed and I have a backlog of things I want to talk about.

Well, I'm listening.

So building a proper nest won't do?

[Then he stated that list....]

Zombie....Virus, my lord?

Edited 2012-11-12 02:05 (UTC)

Just Donatello. Did you know that viruses can turn people into zombies? Me neither. But this one did and it was a big mess.

... What do you mean by a nest?

Alright, my lord Donatello? I am sorry but I do not know what a zombie is.

[She blinks before going to switch it to video for at least her end, drawing her wings closer to herself.]

My kind, for our homes we build nests and live in them.

[Oh.] Zombies. They're, um, like people, only they're mindless and only want to find food. Which usually is other people's brains. It's not really good for anyone.

[... You are not human. It only takes a moment for Don to flip on his own video.]

Listen, this place has... violent weather, sometimes. It's okay to live in a nest if you want to, but you should have another place to go for when it's like this.

[She couldn't help but to shudder at the thought of what zombies are.]

Is... Is there a cure to heal them of such an illness? Any healing magic?

[She blinks as he switches to video as well and she goes to stare at him for a few moments. Okay, Don you are gonna be hearing some very happy chirps from Leanne. Another Laguz!

There is another Laguz here in this world! Even if she doesn't recongize the clan he is from but still! He is another Laguz! Though the moments of joy are squished for a moment as he relays to her the bad news.]

But where can I go with no Beorcs or where there are a few Beorcs. [Still doesn't fully trusts humans yet.]

Does the weather truly prevent me building my own nest?

Healing magic didn't work, but some of the villagers were able to invent a medical cure.

[The chirps are intriguing, but he can't understand them.]

What are Beorcs?

We had a tornado just a few weeks ago. It damaged some of the buildings. I don't think a nest would have survived...

Praise the goddes that such a thing was able to be cured.

[Don't worry, she really isn't expecting anyone to understand her chirps.]

Those who are not of our race, my lord Donatello. To call them by the other term is a crass and vile thing to do.

[Her wings droop a bit more as the news kept getting worse and worse for her.]

I see...

[A small sigh and a smile.] I believe that I haven't properly introduce myself yet. I am Leanne, princess of the Heron clan.

Outsiders. [His tone is full of understanding and sympathy.] I haven't seen many people like you in Luceti. I'm sorry. But the humans aren't bad, for the most part.

I'm Donatello, ninja of the Hamato clan. [He has no idea whether these things are similar, but he'll throw it out there anyway.]

[She continues to smile at the tone and ruffles her wings to help keep them and herself warm.]

There are more like me? [She blinks before shaking her head.] I will be the only one that you will see. But.... I am still unsure about them as a whole.. [But she has already forgiven them.]

It is my highest pleasure and honor to meet you, lord Donatello of the Hamato clan. [Not exactly the same thing but it is pretty close enough.]

There was one, but I don't think she's here anymore.

[He thinks there is a miscommunication here, and he has had enough of those.]

No, just Donatello.

She?

[She blinks as he corrects her and she couldn't help but to tilt her head at him.]

But.... Wouldn't that be rude to call you by?

I can't remember her name right now, but she wouldn't call me just Donatello either. So, Don-san if you must. But not "lord" anything.

Don-san it is then. I apologize if my mannerisms offended you.

She sounded like someone I would have liked to meet.

She might be here again. Luceti is like that. ... You haven't found anyone you know, though?

I shall pray to the goddess then that she will be. [She pauses briefly, still smiling before shaking her head.]

No, I haven't nor am I expecting to find anyone here.

[He hesitates, then asks:] Princess... do you want to come over?

Edited 2012-11-12 23:38 (UTC)

[She blinks for a few moments before smiling and nods her head.]

If you will not be burdened by my presence then I would like to come over.

It's no trouble. [A pause, as though this thought just occurred to him.] There's a human here, but he's all right.

[She goes to smile even more.]

Then perhaps once I arrive, I can offer you a song. [She blinks at the mentioning of a beroc being there but the smile never fades.]

I see, if you say that he is alright Don-san then he must be so then.

[A woman wants to sing for him? This day has just gotten somewhat better.]

I promise. He'll answer the door for you.

[Its the least she can do since he is inviting her to his home.]

Where do you live, Don-san?

I shall do my best not to trouble either one of you during my stay.

[... That's an interesting question.]

Are you planning to walk or fly?

[She tilts her head.]

Fly, my legs are not quite strong as my wings.

[Okay then. How to find his house from the air...]

Fly south along the river. My house is the fifth one on the east bank. The door faces the path.

That doesn't sound far. I will be there shortly, Don-san.

[And here she goes to shift into her Heron form and picks up the journal carefully with a Talon in case he wants to still speak with her during her flight over.]

[The video stream that results from this is dizzying. Don doesn't usually get motion-sick, but he has to close the book.]

[It takes her quite a bit as she was still learning the layout of the village and the areas around it.

She shifts back into her normal form once she finds the house and goes to dust herself off first before softly knocking on the door.

Oh goddess, hopefully she is at the right house.]

[Now who could that possibly be? Luckily for Leanne, Robert is perched, like the world's most awkward hawk, very near the door. As soon as that knock sounds itself, he's on it, swinging the door open.

He dips his head respectfully, albeit anxiously, and tries to smile - but really, he's very nervous. He hasn't been around many strangers recently, and suddenly they're all coming out of the woodworks.]

Ah... s-salutations. Don is... j-just inside...

[He gestures to the Turtle on the couch, who's likely visible from the doorway.]

[Don waves, and waits for Leanne to come inside a little before making introductions.]

Robert, this is Princess Leanne Heron. Leanne, this is my - my partner, Robert Hastings.

This is a most intriguing offer. I believe we have not yet had the opportunity to introduce ourselves...

I am Spock.

[A long pause, then:] Spock. I'm Donatello. I'm a big fan.

[.....?]

I beg your pardon?

[Usually he would break news like this more gently, but he has no filter today.]

You're on a TV show where I'm from. One of my favorites. Some other people here are from worlds where I'm on a TV show, only it's not exactly like my real life, so maybe Star Trek isn't exactly like your real life either.

Ah yes... I have been informed of this television series. Most intriguing... And from what I have been able to gather, it has several similarities but many differences.
Would you be amenable if I switched to video?

Ah -- sure.

[Congratulations, you have nearly rendered him speechless. VIDEO CHATTING WITH SPOCK.]

[Okay, maybe not as cool as mind-melding with Luke Skywalker, but still pretty freaking cool.]

[The video feed turns on, and Spock observes the face of his companion for a moment....fascinating.]

May I inquire as to what manner of species are you?

I'm a Turtle.

[Clearly not the whole truth, but Don has just enough inhibition to think that maybe he shouldn't spill his entire origin story over an unfiltered journal connection.]

[Spock raises an eyebrow....]
Fascinating... It is well to make your acquaintance Mister Donatello.

L- Likewise, Mr. Spock. [He feels like such a dork when he says that, and at the same time SO COOL.]

[Spock cannot help but be curious about this being...]

Are there more like you here in Luceti?

[Did you really have to bring that up?]

Not right now.

[Spock can obviously see that he has upset Donatello...]

My apologies Mister Donatello, I was merely curious and did not mean to upset you. Perhaps you would be amenable to meeting in person?

[Would he be amenable to meeting in person. Ffff.]

I can't walk right now, but you're welcome to come over.

Very well, if you inform me of your location, I can be there momentarily.

[Spock is actually eager to meet Donatello in person...]

House 55. It's south of the village.

Very well, I will be there momentarily.

[The screen goes blank...

Donatello does not have to wait long before there is a polite sounding knock on the door.]

[Some muted shouting:]

Anata, can you get that?

[The door should be opened momentarily.]

[Sorry about the delay, Spock.

The door opens, to the tune of one very nervous-looking man.]

Erm...

... S-Salutations... [He dips his head respectfully once and ushers Spock inside, to where Don is sitting on the couch. The Turtle is probably visible from the doorway.]

[Spock bows his head in politeness and steps inside.]

Greetings, I am Spock. [He looks at Donatello then back at the man who let him in... ]

May I inquire as to your name?

[Spock looks to Donatello again...] Why are you not able to stand?

[At least he's nice and formal. This sets Robert at ease, if only slightly.]

My name is... P-Professor Robert Alexander Hastings...

[... He realizes just how long it's been since he's said that. It almost feels surreal, even though it seems as practised as ever.]

It is... g-good to meet you...

[As for the rest, he'll let Don answer for himself.]

[Spock bows his head..]

It is well to make your acquaintance Professor Hastings. I am Spock.

[As for the other question:] Side effect. Should be temporary.

That is most unfortunate Mister Donatello. [Spock steps closer to the turtle on the couch.]

I must admit that I have never met one such as yourself before. It is well to see you in person.

[Spock turns to the Professor again...]

May I inquire as to what you are professor of?

[Safe topic. A good topic, really.]

Ah... I am, or, er, w-was, formally employed as... an a-astrobiologist.

[He's honestly not sure if he should define the term yet, mostly because he doesn't want to be presumptuous, but it's hard to make out Spock's expressions. In fact, he doesn't seem to have much visible body language at all... not that Robert is particularly good at reading it in the first place, but Spock's expression is very noticeably... blank.]

Indeed? This is most fortuitous. I am quite familiar with that area of study. [Spock won't get into all the degrees and doctorates he has...] I serve on board a space-faring vessel for an organization called Starfleet.
[Spock glances at Donatello who seems to be grinning quite broadly....] You have not familiarized him with the show?

I've tried. He's from 2332 and can't get past the historical inaccuracies.

[He's just going to look sheepish now.]

... I... did n-not expect to, er, s-speak to you so soon... [In retrospect, though, he probably should've expected it.]

[Spock raises an eyebrow... 2332? Fascinating.]

May I ask for an example of what technologies you are used to dealing with?

[Time to get nerdy....]

[This is going to be the best conversation ever. Don settles in and listens avidly.]

[Indeed, it is going to be the best conversation ever. Robert brightens significantly.]

Ah - I h-have an example here in Luceti, actually. If you... wished to s-see it.

[In fact, it's not too far away, on the table close to Don where he was doing a little work earlier. Robert crosses the short distance to the table, picks it up, and presents the little computer proudly to Spock. About fifteen centimetres long, and half that wide, the rounded-edged nanocomputer certainly looks like something out of science fiction.]

... Th-This is... my nanocomputer, a standard-issue quantum computer... b-built primarily for scientific purposes. Nanocomputers come in thousands of... v-varieties, for different purposes... s-some are significantly smaller or l-larger than this, though quantum computers are... r-rarely very large. Most computers here are... e-easily double their size...

Fascinating. [Spock observes the device....] I have always been intrigued with the use of "superposition," where infinitesimal objects such as individual electrons or atoms can exist in two or more places at once, or spin in opposite directions at the same time.

The ability to calculate every possible on-off combination at the same time, making this technology significantly faster than conventional data processing.
A common use would be code-breaking correct? I realize it has a multitude of uses, however...forgive me, I have been living with a thief for the last six weeks.

[Spock takes his PADD out of his bag and shows it to the professor.] This is a similar concept device. However, the purpose for this particular device is rather simple... My more 'complex' technology are in the lab....

[Don listens to the two men geeking out, and decides not to interrupt yet.]

[He is reminded, though, that he may still have a tricorder lying around somewhere.]

[Robert nods at this.] Quantum n-nanocomputers on Terra generally use... the spin of individual e-electrons in order to codify bit states, but... some have used other f-factors, if I recall c-correctly...

... Additionally, not all nanocomputers are... quantum-based. Though qu-quantum computing is... certainly the standard, there are also o-optical computers, and even a few b-biological computers operating at the level of genetic code in several h-highly specialized applications and fields, such as... computers to test i-individual genes in bacteriology s-studies.

[... Okay, that PADD looks fascinating, and Robert definitely wants to study it more closely.]

... Wh-What is this device for, if... if I may ask...?

It is a rather simple device... it stand for Personal Access Display device... Its components are consisting of a large touchscreen display and minimalistic manual interface...the typical PADD is used for a variety of functions including logging manifests, compiling duty rosters or diagnostic reports, entering personal data, and accessing library computer systems using the LCARS Interface.

However I have altered mine to include the very technology you have here... With this I am able to process...basically anything I have need of. I have used it already to 'hack' into Luceti's systems. [He holds out the PADD out to the professor....]
I have left my tricorder at home... otherwise I would have also shown you that. But no matter, we will simply meet again. [Spock turns to Donatello....] May I inquire as to how familiar you are with my universe?

[Don rubs his head, embarrassed.]

I'm kind of a big fan.

Indeed? I must admit that this is a rather interesting experience... I must watch this series at some point. From what I know of it however... there are drastic differences.

[Still studying the PADD, Robert glances up at Spock.]

That... s-seems to be more or less the, er, standard when it comes to those i-individuals who are... f-fictional in someone's world...

[Though he's wondering now exactly what that implies. Or whether there are worlds where it is accurate.]

There are several - [What is the word.] - series-es. You may have heard about a different one than the one you're from. If that makes any sense.

[Spock looks up and address both of his companions....]

It does make for a rather intriguing study... perhaps if you two are amenable, you could assist me in 'researching' this 'Star Trek' series. Fiction though it may be... I am here, so it is reality to some degree.

...

I would... b-be amenable to this, y-yes.

[In a way, it makes him curious whether there's something similar going on with Don's. It's not the first time he had this thought, but it's the first time he's really dwelled on it.]

[Don gestures to the TV console.]

Anata, that bottom cabinet. I have the box set.

[Spock lifts his eyebrow, and reaches into the cabinet where instructed...

When he returns, he is hold the 'box set'.....
Spock is staring at the picture in wonderment....]

Fascinating... this Vulcan bears a resemblance to my alternate self... [Spock was absolutely mesmerized with the picture on the front of the Case.]

[While that anata was intended to be an instruction for Robert, it's okay if Spock does it himself. Robert arrests his hand motion mid-gesture and steps back so Spock can fish the box set out.

And then... well.]

... He is... m-meant to be you, I... I b-believe...

[He can't help but be reminded of the alternate Donatellos he saw in the Hall of Personas at Lucetiland...]

[Watching Spock respond to anata is jarring to say the least, but Don tries to let it go.]

Alternate self?

[Spock, not knowing that 'anata' had any special significance, looks up from the box and addresses both of them.]

My Universe encountered a temporal paradox involving a black hole which allow an older version of myself into my timeline. However, the events in my universe made it so that my alternate self's universe will never exist.

[Spock raises an eyebrow.... then looks as sheepish as a Vulcan can...] May I inquire as to what 'anata' means?

[... Well, that's the strangest definition of "temporal paradox" Robert has ever heard in awhile. By now he's learned that different worlds work differently, but still.

The other part, though?]

Ah... anata is... a Japanese term wh-which essentially means... 'y-you who is... mine'. It is... a t-term to refer to... m-me.

[Robert's not embarrassed about this or anything, but it is a little odd to explain.]

[A rather curious green stain appears on Spock's cheeks as he bows his head.] My apologies, I did not understand the context and I intruded. [Spock shifted on his feet... and he would never admit to experiencing apprehension or worry... it was too human.]

[Trying to translate between his languages is always strange for Don, and it's especially odd to hear Robert attempt it. He'll change the subject to avoid more awkwardness.]

The DVD player is in the cabinet under the TV, if you want to start an episode.

[Spock nods, and places the disc in the appropriate place... and witnesses the illogical mess that is TOS.]

Wait... Turtles can talk?

[Leave it to Jansen to pick out the least relevant part of this post. And the really obvious.]

[Ouch, whoever you are.]

Um... yes. I can talk.

Wow, definitely haven't met any turtle people. This place is definitely weird. Sorry, probably was rude there. I do agree with you about the miserable weather. I've had enough cold and snow to last a lifetime.

[Feel free to tell Jansen to shut up if he puts his foot in his mouth again.]

[Yes, because he is the only one right now, thank you for reminding him. Not a bad recovery, though.]

You arrived at the wrong time of year, then. Unless the Malnosso decide to give us a heat wave. You never know.

[Yep, foot in mouth syndrome strikes again. Maybe someday Jansen will learn to think before he speaks.]

Really don't want to get a job as an ice sculpture. Already nearly did that once.

Tell me about it. Found an apartment yet?

I did, sure am not going to stay out in that. Being nearly frozen once was more than enough for me.

Don't think I want to know about that zombie virus thing you mentioned.

You don't. But future drafts and experiments aren't likely to be much better, so you might want to educate yourself anyway.

[After the dead silence of the house that came as a result of Don being gone for a few days, the stream-of-consciousness chatter that he's keeping up is gratifying and relieving. Robert is just so glad to have him capable and upbeat again about himself, even if there was a relatively hefty physical price to pay (if only briefly).

He hasn't really gone far from Don since he came home, both out of practical reasons and also because he wants to be by the Turtle's side as much as possible. He's become something of an attendant in the interim, but he doesn't mind that any.

Right now he's tidying up the area around the couch a little, but he can probably be dissuaded from straightening the furniture for the fifteenth time if Don would like his company more directly.]

[Don lies on the couch, watching Robert clean and trying to think of anything other than the seemingly-missing lower half of his body. He was able to entertain himself most of the day by talking to people on the journals, but now the villagers have dispersed to their evening activities, and Don is tired from speaking so much.]

[There are a few things he really should say, though.]

Um... hey.

[Robert's gaze snaps up from where it was trained on a singular dust bunny, though his hands complete the motion independently to sweep it into the dustpan he was cleaning with.]

Yes, Don?

[Don struggles to sit up, then abandons the effort.]

Do something for me?

Of course. What would you... like me to do? [He shakes the dustpan into the trash bin as he asks the question, then snaps the handle of the brush into the dustpan. All of this is done without looking at it.]

[Don motions for Robert to come sit by him. He feels bad ordering him around from across the room.]

[The man comes up to Don's side and takes a seat promptly, nestling into place on the couch with a smile, as though Don had done him a favour.]

[Don rests a hand on Robert's knee, happy to have him nearby. When he speaks, the words are halting: he's been thinking about this for hours, trying to find the right names for things.]

Go to the clinic and get... syringes of heparin. Then the okonomiyaki place, for anything. And... the lady who isn't named April has my book.

[It takes a few seconds - heparin. An anticoagulant.

Robert's doctor training and biological knowledge suddenly makes these ideas fall into place. He hadn't considered it until now (now that it's been presented) but if this continues for a few days, and Don can't move, then blood clotting would become a serious potential problem...

Okay. He nods, his expression serious now.]

Yes, of course.

[As for the other two...]

... Okonomiyaki? [The word comes out strangely; he hasn't really frequented the shop much and probably never saw it written.]

And... "the... lady who isn't named April"...? [That's especially confusing.]

Edited 2012-11-12 04:17 (UTC)

Japanese food. I'm starving.

You know, what's-her-name... [He'll reach for his journal, to look up a picture.]

[Okay, he can do that.

As for who Don's talking about... there's a list of people he can look at, isn't there? ~~Unless that's retconned out now. Who knows?~~]

Perhaps you have a... description?

[Don't ask him to describe a human, Robert.]

[In short order he's located Buffy's picture in the list of residents.]

Her.

[Oh, okay, that works just as well.]

Ms. Summers. [He gives the journal itself a more scrutinizing look.] Should I... ask her if I can retrieve your book for you?

Just go tell her I need it back. [He closes the journal, then has another thought.] You know where she lives, right?

[Quick search through the mental databases, and -] I... am afraid not.

[Right. Don reopens the journal to the village map, pointing out Buffy's house.]

[Robert nods, as he lines this new data up with his own mental map of the village.]

... I should be off now, then? [His tone suggests he doesn't want to leave Don, but at the same time, the medicine could be important.]

Please. [He finds Robert's hand, and squeezes it reassuringly.] We'll talk when you get back.

... Y-Yes. If... if you need anything, please call me.

[Robert bundles his journal into his arms, makes certain Don's journal is within easy reach (as well as other things he might need), and then reluctantly heads out the door.

Perhaps forty-five minutes or so later, he returns, his cloth bag full of precious medicine, a box of sterilized needles which he felt very strange for collecting, and a certain book, carefully folded in its confines.

In his hands, he carries a container of still-warm okonomiyaki.]

Edited 2012-11-13 03:48 (UTC)

[Don's first interest is in that steaming white box. He seizes it, breaks apart the chopsticks inside, and starts inhaling the food. It's delicious.]

[Robert is perfectly content to watch Don eat all of the food, even if he meant to sample some of it himself.

It at least smells good though. Robert makes a mental note to attempt cooking it himself. Possibly with meat for Don, though who knows...]

[Don has noticed the lack of meat.]

[In a somewhat disappointed tone:] This is vegetables. Um. Vegetarian.

[Oh. Well, shit. Um.]

... I meant to eat some myself, but... [Well. Don just sort of devoured all of it.

Yep. Though Robert is now looking like he just committed the Worst Mistake Ever.]

[With a sigh, Don hands over the last pancake. He's more upset about this than might seem reasonable, but he's trying not to show it.]

[Robert just deflates. Mistakes are things he shouldn't be making at this point.]

... I will... bring s-separate containers next time. So it is not an issue.

[Suddenly the okonomiyaki no longer seems as appetizing.]

Just eat it. [He won't continue to more important topics until someone has finished that pancake.]

[Robert sighs quietly, but does as he's told. One of these days he needs to get a backbone when it comes to dealing with Don.

Despite everything, though, the food manages to be tasty, so it's definitely worth a repeat sometime later.]

[That day needs to be soon, as they will probably discuss shortly.]

[Don waits until Robert is finished eating before he speaks again.]

Listen. There's a lot of things I've been waiting to say to you, and it's going to take a while to get through all of them. But first, I want you to know how grateful I am that you've put up with so much for me. I love you, and none of the things I want to talk to you about will change that. Okay?

[At this, Robert goes for a response that he's learned from the long period of Don's penalty - a non-verbal one. He reaches over and squeezes Don's hand gently, and looks at him with a look that transcends words.

Only after a few moments does he say anything.]

Of course.

[This is possibly the best answer Robert could have given. Don smiles weakly.]

Let me have those needles.

[Robert smiles back, a little uncertain as he hands the box of needles to Don. It's weird, to see so many needles around his partner, and fills him with strange and uncomfortable emotion.

Almost unconsciously, he fidgets with the sleeve of his lab coat as he watches.]

[Don lifts a needle from the box, and spends some time reading the label. He's already learned that his literacy skills are a little rusty - but since he's mostly interested in the numbers here, it shouldn't be too bad.]

[When he's satisfied he knows what he's injecting himself with, he pulls back the blanket, stretches the skin of his thigh between thumb and forefinger, and jabs the syringe into a vein. It's a somewhat more violent movement than Robert might be expecting, but Don looks unperturbed as he pushes the plunger down to a carefully calculated point.]

[Robert was, of course, watching intently the entire time, and he flinches just a little when that needle punctures Don's skin - both because of the aggression of the motion and because of the associated memories.

Still, he's glad for this. It means he won't have to worry as much about Don having any more permanent damage done to him.]

[When Don pulls back the needle, a little blood leaks out, but he ignores it. He carefully hands the now-uncapped syringe back to Robert, and continues the conversation as though nothing happened.]

The second thing I wanted to say is that I won't be eating much for the next few weeks, and I'm going to be in a bad mood because of it. It has nothing to do with you or anything you did.

[Robert will worry only if that leak doesn't stop itself soon. He takes the syringe gingerly and places it on the side table after recapping it for the interim.]

... A-Alright. [He's learned by now that fussing too much will just be counterproductive. Maybe he can at least make Don's drinks interesting?]

[Don't worry; Turtles clot quickly.]

[That was less of a response than Don was expecting. It throws him off a little.]

Are your plants ready to move into the winter room?

[Hey, Robert can take a hint! After having it repeatedly drilled into his skull, anyway. And if it's something Don's doing to himself there isn't much he can (or wants to) do about it, even if it worries him.]

Yes. I would prefer to do so as soon as possible, particularly for... the seedlings. [The trees are still small and delicate; they won't do so well if they have to deal with a cooler house and short hours of sunlight. He's lucky to have kept them strong so far as it is.]

I left places for them. I'll show you as soon as... as soon as I can walk.

[He really hopes it won't be more than a few days.]

[So does Robert, though he's trying to keep the anxiety off his face. (That's not working very well.)]

I... will be glad to see it. Admittedly, I have been curious since you first began...

[He has to look away, embarrassed for complicated reasons.]

I know. I just... didn't want you to see it yet.

[Oh, Don. Don't be shy.]

Whenever you are... ready. [And able.]

[Before he monopolizes the conversation with his laundry list:]

Is there anything you want to talk about?

[Robert smiles weakly at that.]

I... would h-hardly know where to begin. Perhaps, by addressing your concerns, some of mine would... simultaneously be discussed.

[This is not really the kind of honest response Don was hoping for. He decides to start big and vague.]

Ron-- Robert, I'm... worried about us.

[Being called by his own name in Don's voice. He'd missed that.

But...]

... Worried? In... in what manner? [Didn't he basically prove his love well enough? Or does he have to do something else?]

[It's not you. Not in any reasonable sense, at least.]

[He looks away.]

I'm - not good at relationships.

[Robert doesn't look away. His gaze patiently seeks out Don's.]

Neither am I. I... presumed that this was well-established knowledge.

[Still determinedly not looking.]

I don't think you know how much my brothers did for us.

[At this, Robert's expression grows more melancholy.]

... Perhaps not, but... I am g-grateful for it regardless.

And... whatever they would have done... I will try my best. [He can't stress enough how much he'll try.]

[He rubs the ridge between his eyes. Someday, maybe, they won't have to have conversations like this anymore.]

I can't ask you that.

[To Robert, it's a strictly pragmatic statement.]

Who can you ask?

[With a certain degree of anguish:]

I don't know!

[Robert tries for a calm, reassuring tone, but the anguish in Don's voice has visibly upset him.]

This is why I... am offering to d-do so myself. Or, something. I know I cannot replace them - never could r-replace them - but...

[His shoulders slump just slightly. Is he ever going to truly be enough?]

[Softly, almost guiltily. He knows it isn't fair to ask Robert to do these things, but the fact remains that someone needs to do them.]

You can't do what they did.

[Plainly:] No one person here can do what a Terran could do for me. I have... learned to compensate, and you have been quite the assistance in that r-regard, but...

... it is not the same. And I know your brothers are more important than that. I know I am... not the same as them, in... in any way. If it were up to me... you would be with them.

[His tone implies that he would be there too, or so he would want it to be.]

... But... I c-cannot do this. All I can do is... try to give what they did...

[This hurts to hear. Robert has been alone, in his own way, for the entire time he's been in Luceti. He fell in love with the antithesis of some of his most closely-held beliefs. And he has changed so much, striving to be what that person needed and wanted him to be. How can Don complain, or ask for more?]

[Very, very quietly:] Please don't.

[Robert wrings his hands, his expression some quiet, pained mixture of emotions. If he can't help you, Don, then who can?]

Don, p-please...

S-Surely I can do something? [Anything, really. He just doesn't want Don to feel the pain he must be feeling.]

[It takes a minute, but Don regains his composure and answers calmly.]

I don't want to talk about this today. Let's just watch a movie or something.

[Robert's expression is strained and sad, but - after a moment where he looks like he might object - he just sags a little and nods.]

... a-alright.

[Never mind that this is the last thing he wants to do right now.]

[If you wanted to talk about something, you should have said so five minutes ago.]

[... Or right now, if you want to impress Don with your assertiveness.]

[It's more that this situation is worrying him a lot more than he can articulate. Well, that, and the commentary about being bad at relationships is now making him wonder if he feels that way because Robert is bad.

But, he doesn't have the assertiveness to push any of those lines of conversation right now, or even a different one. Besides, it's clear Don doesn't want to talk.

Instead, he gives an uncertain look towards the movies. Did you really want to watch one then, Don?]

[Mostly he wants anything that will serve as a distraction. If his attention wanders to his legs for more than two seconds, he'll lose it.]

[Makes sense.

Well, is there a particular movie he likes? Because Robert's going to go over to the shelf.]

... Is there a movie you are... th-thinking of, perhaps...?

Not really.

[Also, he's still having noticeable trouble with proper nouns. He's not in the mood to try to remember the name of any movie he might think of.]

[Then it shall be a science documentary.

Robert selects an astronomy one - interstellar objects, with a focus on nebulae and quasars - and puts it in their player. It always gives him an odd nostalgia to do this; it's like a lower-tech version of the years he spent as a child watching holovideos about various science topics.

When he's done, he reseats himself next to Don, close enough to be companionable but not quite touching. He doesn't want to crowd Don.]

[Don laboriously slides down into a more horizontal position, making himself as comfortable as he can. If he's lucky, he'll fall asleep during the movie.]

[As much as Robert wants to be in rapt attention, he keeps either wincing at the outdatedness of the science or looking worriedly over at Don every once in awhile. Probably both.

In a way he kind of hopes Don gets some rest too. After the crap that happened today, he needs it.]

[Something about the way Robert keeps glancing over really bothers him. After a while, he has to say something.]

What?

... I am worried. [It's a small, simple sentence, but Robert's expression makes it a lot more than that. Worried about what Don said, worried about their future, worried about his health. All sorts of worries.]

[Don's most obvious response to this is an irritated sigh. Somewhere under that is a sinking feeling, and even further down a sense of being very loved.]

[Hopefully the sinking feeling is not the most overwhelming of those feelings.

Either way, Robert tries to stop looking at Don, wincing away shamefully. But he's clearly still anxious, and keeps rhythmically wringing his hands.]

[This evasiveness is incredibly annoying.]

Robert.

[Cringing now. He doesn't like that tone.]

... Yes?

Stop doing that.

[He makes a gesture that could easily be interpreted as referring specifically to the tic, but what he really means is Robert's tendency to not say what's on his mind.]

[He gets only one of the meanings right now, namely because the other is buried too deeply to realize, and stops kneading his hands. His fingers involuntarily curl, as if he's bearing some significant weight.

It's actually quite difficult to suppress his tic, though. He keeps wanting to move his hands, or something.]

[To Don, then, Robert is still doing "that". His expression turns darker, and he hunches up the blankets and faces the TV again, acting like he doesn't care what his partner is thinking about.]

[It's only when Don does this that he realizes that Don might not mean the hand-tic. But, then, what does he mean? What else did Robert do wrong?

He goes over the mental list of things he could've done wrong that weren't hand-tic related. Did he say something bad in that conversation? Does he have poor taste in movies? Is he sitting too close or too far away? What exactly did he do?

Or maybe it's something he didn't do.

But what could it possibly be?]

Edited 2012-11-17 22:54 (UTC)

[Usually Don would be more generous about this kind of thing, but he just doesn't have the emotional reserves today.]

[He watches the documentary, his eyelids growing heavy as the narrator tells him things he already knows.]

[Well, Robert just... sort of hopes Don will drift off and give him some time to think of what the problem could be. Maybe they can better deal with it later when Don's less tired.

He just tries to be quiet right now and engross himself in the science, though... it's not really working too well.]

[Don. That was Don. He hasn't heard anything from Don since Le... since his brother was sent... back... His instinctive reaction is to pick up his journal to speak back to him, ask if he's alright - but no, he's gone. And it looks like he might not be alright, so he flips over to the map immediately to try and remember where the "barracks" are... how do you spell that? But he soon determines what must be it and bounds out the door towards it as fast as he can.

He never realised what this large building was before, and he doesn't know what he will find when he comes in, but there is no hesitation before he bursts in and sees Don laying on the floor. Oh no.]

Don! What's wrong?

[Don tries to get up when the door opens - he hates being found like this - but it's a losing proposition.]

I can't - feel my - legs.

[And can't tell whether his speech is any better. Did Beast understand him?]

[He sees his struggle and hears his words and immediately assumes the worst. They have paralyzed him. He is going to kill you Malnosso.

Not wasting any time, he bounds over to Don and carefully rests a paw on one of his legs. He speaks with an angered but still concerned tone.] You can't move them?

[Don reflexively backhands Beast's arm, but he doesn't have the inclination or the leverage to really hurt him.]

Don't do that!

[A slight gasp escapes from him when Don pushes him back. No... he does not like what this means. But he... he did ask for him, so he must be able to do something... right?]

Wh-what... what should I do?

Take me - home. Please.

Home... [He lowers his gaze - he sounds so... defeated.] Yes. I-I will... take you home.

[But he doesn't want him to touch his legs... so... he moves over to his upper body and props him up.]

It's - it's okay.

[Weakly, Don puts his arms around Beast's furry neck. Do what you have to do to get him home safely.]

A-alright. [Said quietly as he attempts to, as carefully as possible, slip his arm under Don's legs and picks him up. While setting out for House 55, he doesn't say anything, but he looks down at the turtle to make sure he's as... good... as he can be in this position.]

[It's disconcerting to feel his balance shift like that, with no apparent source, but Don just buries his face in Beast's shoulder and braces against the autumn cold. He'll be home in a minute.]

[He can't help remembering the way it felt to be carried in his father's arms when he was small.]

[Noticing his gesture, Beast awkwardly takes his cloak and attempts to put it over Don as much as he can.

It doesn't take them too long, though, to reach his home and they soon find themselves at the door of House 55. Should he knock? Would Don just let him go in?]

[Even huddled under the cloak, Don senses when they stop, and he guesses why.]

It's ... open.

[Having Don's consent, he swiftly pushes the door open and hurriedly tries to find a place to rest him down.] I-is there... wh-where...?

The problem with thinking of something surprising is that it wouldn't be surprising until it happens. If you can think of it, it's not surprising.

[He spent way too long trying to think of something. Seriously.]

Do you like to be surprised - [Excuse him a moment while he looks up old journal conversations.] - Smoker?

Not especially.

[Aka: not at all.] Since it usually means something drastic.

[Aha.]

Then shouldn't you think of lots of things that would be surprising, so they won't be surprising if they really happen?

Raining elephants.

I'm not sure imagining it makes it any less shocking if it did happen, however.

There was that time monsters fell from the sky.

What, really? You mean during the family shift?

Um... [After almost three years, it's hard to keep the experiments straight.] No, it was after the earthquake.

You sound better.

[In the midst of trying to be thankful for little things such as this, it's so nice to hear.]

I feel better. [For certain definitions of 'better', at least.] How are you?

((I'm going to make stuff up about our failthread and you should too.))

I'm fine, thank you for asking.

[She's a bit taken aback by his casual remarks about the draft, but he wasn't there, he doesn't know. Entirely forgivable.]

It sounds like you don't have to worry about entertaining yourself.

To be completely honest, I'm bored out of my mind.

[Or will be as soon as other people walk away from their journals. He's a little desperate to make these conversations last as long as possible.]

Oh, I'm sorry. Can I help?

[As long as they don't talk about zombies.]

Sure. I'll listen to anything.

Oh? I had the feeling you might want to do the talking instead.

... What should I talk about?

[With all the pent-up words, how can he pick a place to start?]

Tell me about...your favorite memory.

[She could use some happiness.]

[It wouldn't be very happy for him right now.]

Could you pick something less... personal?

Oh. [Yeah she's turning tomato-red right about now.] I'm sorry, I thought- I thought that would be something you'd have fun talking about, I...I didn't mean to pry-

[This just became very embarrassing all around.]

[He didn't mean it that way.]

I'm sorry, it's just - a bad time.

No, please don't be sorry. It was my fault. Maybe you should pick the topic instead.

[He thinks a moment, then says:] Could I talk to you sometime about what my death-loss was like? It might help someone else who can't tell you themselves.

All right. Is that something you would prefer to do in person?

If you don't mind. I could come to the clinic in a few days?

Of course I don't mind. In the morning is better, if you feel up to it.

In the morning. Sounds good; thanks.

[With all of the grimmer news that seems to have been on the network lately, hearing Don speaking like his old self again is a nice turn of events.]

Sounds like you're ready to jump back into things. How are your winter preparations coming along?

[WHAT DO YOU KNOW ABOUT HIS WINTER PREPARATIONS.]

Professor ...?

[She knows that considering his history, he likely has something in mind given what the cold does to him.]

I thought I saw a message from a few days ago mentioning your situation... did I startle you? My apologies.

[ROBERT WHAT DID YOU TELL PEOPLE. Don will have to look for a journal entry later.]

No, it's okay. Things are... good.

Well, I'm sure they're better, anyway. Just don't push yourself too hard.

I'm trying, Professor. [He is not especially good at the "resting" part of recovery, but... he's trying. Really.]

It can't be easy. Is there anything you'd like for me to get for you?

Um... I can't think of anything, but thanks for the offer.

All right. Though if you do end up thinking of something, feel free to mention it.

I'm glad to hear you sounding more like yourself.

[He, on the other hand, just sounds... well, exhausted. He's been looking after Isamu constantly since they returned from the draft.]

[Don picks up on this immediately.]

What's the matter?

Asbel, Isamu and I were sent out on that last draft. Let's just say that things didn't go well, though we're all fine now.

[Don would be interested to hear more specifics about the draft, but Richard sounds like he doesn't want to talk about it.]

Is there anything I can do?

[Richard ponders this for a moment, then draws up a filter to keep this hidden from Isamu.]

He keeps blaming himself for being weak and unable to fight. Perhaps you could speak with him about taking up training again, if he's interested in that. I don't want him to feel like he's a burden to us... or to me.

Isamu? [He thinks for a moment.] Ask him if he wants to kick my shell in a few days. It would probably cheer him up.

It just might. I'll be sure to make that suggestion when he's feeling more up to doing anything besides just lying around.

[Good.]

By the way - who were you with that day I met you on the playground?

You mean Asbel? He's my closest friend from my world-- we live together here as well. The two of us have known each other since we were children.

[Ah, so that's Asbel.]

Do you have anyone over there who wasn't drafted?

The girls were lucky enough to have escaped it this time. Cheria, Sophie and Pascal all stayed here. It's probably for the best-- I wouldn't have wanted them to go through any of that.

Pascal? The programmer with the bo-staff-guns?

Yes, do you know her?

We met on a mission a few months ago.

[A pause, then in a low tone:] Was it just me, or does nothing she says make any sense?

I have it on good authority from multiple people that it isn't just you. Pascal is a rather unique person. Sometimes I wonder if even she understands everything she's saying.

She's smart, anyway. [After a furtive glance around to be sure his partner is not listening:] I like her.

Do you now?

[He... actually doesn't know about Don and Robert, so he's just going to tease.]

[SO EMBARRASSED.]

- I also think she's about twelve.

[Though he's bad at guessing humans' ages so he could be completely wrong.]

Actually, I believe she'll be turning 23 soon.

[Don almost falls off the couch, which would be bad, considering his current state of paralysis.]

What?!

Don't worry, people tend to make the same mistake when they first meet her. She doesn't exactly do much to discourage that impression either.

[In a kind of hopeless moan:] Why do I always fall for older people...?

[Probably for the same reason Richard keeps falling for straight guys. But this arouses his curiosity.]

How old are you?

Nineteen?

The same age as Isamu, then. I was nineteen when I arrived here, but that was more than two years ago.

What are you, um... ["Implying", but the word escapes him.] Are the two of you with older people also?

[Richard blinks. He wasn't actually implying anything, though he can see how it might have been taken that way.]

The two of us aren't with anyone at all. Let's just say it hasn't been a priority for either one of us lately.

I know what you mean. [And he drops the subject there. No need to pry further.] Am I keeping you from anything? Or do you want to talk a while?

Not at all-- I'd be happy to talk for a while. Did you have something particular in mind?

[Distractions are good after that draft, so he won't say no.]

Not really. I'm just - glad to be able to speak again. And... I'd like to get to know you better.

Because I'm Isamu's friend?

[Even after two years in Luceti, he still has a bit of trouble believing that people want to be friends with him for HIM.]

As they say, any friend of Isamu's. [He'll let you fill in your own ending to that sentence.]

But seriously, I'd like to be friends with you also. You're an interesting person.

... thank you. I suppose I'm still not used to people thinking of me that way here.

Are you considered boring at home?

[He says it lightly, as a joke, but as the words leave his mouth he realizes they could be true. He hopes he didn't just upset Richard...]

Not exactly, but when you're the king, there aren't many people who get to know the real you.

[It's not something he really broadcasts here, but he figures it can't hurt to let Don know.]

[...]

The king? [Really?] The king of what?

Of my country, Windor. It isn't exactly something I make common knowledge here in Luceti, for obvious reasons.

[It's not so obvious to Don. He understands secrets all too well, but being king doesn't seem like something to hide.]

You like being... normal, here?

I don't want anyone to feel like they should treat me differently just because of my title in my world. I'm just an ordinary person here-- I'm no different from anyone else.

And... I do like being normal. I've never had the chance to live like this before.

I know what you mean. My secret is hard to hide, but I won't tell anyone yours.

I appreciate that. Besides, if I ever feel the desire to be treated like royalty, I can always simply ask Isamu to be a temporary servant.

[Don laughs.]

I'm sure he enjoys that.

Who wouldn't enjoy being the personal manservant of such a glorious king?

[Don isn't entirely comfortable with this question, so he politely dodges it.]

It certainly does sound like an honor.

[Fortunately for Don, Richard will spare him any further awkwardness by laughing.]

It's too bad it's an honor that I don't plan on bestowing on anyone.

Not even Isamu?

[Richard is not the only one who can troll.]

I doubt he'd put up that much of an argument if I made him the one exception.

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[Video] Shall we action this if Robert-mun wants to join or?

[Video] He will jump in to answer the door

[Video] Sounds like a plan!