Sixty-Sixth Theory [Voice]

[i_speak_softly]

[Things have been remarkably normal for Don lately, a very tolerable mix of the mildly bad and the mildly good. On the one hand, he's coming down with a case of his annual flu, and he actually kind of misses his elf. On the other hand, his various lessons have been going well, he's enjoying the new toys Robert gave him for Christmas, and all the effort that went into creating the winter room has been entirely worth it.]

[In between keeping his hands and mind occupied, and lounging indolently just because he can for once, Don has made a habit of posing a random question over the journals every day. Today the low-grade fever is making it hard to think straight, so the question is a strange one:]

People. In Luceti. Are from different worlds. [Give him a minute, he's pretty sure he's going somewhere with this.] But. Some of us have a lot in common, in surprising ways. Who... Who in Luceti seems like, you know, like long-lost twins? Even if they maybe haven't met each other here yet.

Or. What combination of people here would just be... really interesting. I mean, if you put them together to make a new person. Who's different from anyone we already have.

[A long pause.]

I think I'm sick.

[He's going to. Um. Do something about that. Then he will be back to answer any comments.]



((I am Donatello-mun and I pre-approve all thread-jacking.))

Comments

[semper_cogitans]

[... Well, how is he supposed to have a coherent argument against a face like that? Robert's expression softens, and although he still looks like he want to be doing something more productive, he nonetheless nods relentingly and turns to go into the winter room with his sick Turtle.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Once back in the winter room, Don heads for the couch, then changes his mind and detours to the bathtub. He returns momentarily with a cool, damp towel, which he offers to Robert.]

[semper_cogitans]

[Robert takes the damp towel, with an idea of how it might be used. However, he doesn't want to go dabbing Don with the towel indiscriminately, so he looks at Don in a curious manner, holding the towel in such a way that suggests he'd like to know where to put it.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Hold on a minute.]

[Don nudges Robert to sit on the couch. He is way too big to be curling up in anyone's lap, but he's going to get as close as he can.]

[semper_cogitans]

[Robert sits as instructed, nestling himself into the couch in a way that hopefully facilitates the near-curling-up. He's quite happy to have Don in his lap, or... almost. (Probably the entirety of Don in his lap would be fairly disastrous for his legs.)]

[i_speak_softly]

[Don lies down, cuddling as close to Robert as he dares, then gestures to his head. A cold towel there would feel pretty nice.]

[semper_cogitans]

[One cold towel, coming right up.

With a careful touch, Robert slides the wet towel against Don's forehead, letting it alight in such a way that it covers the contour of his head without getting in his eyes too much.]

... Is this... better?

[Not exactly the most high-tech medical attention, but sometimes simple things are still effective.]

[i_speak_softly]

Mm.

[Just like home.]

Where did my journal go?

[semper_cogitans]

[Oh, right. Journals are a thing. A quick glance around shows that it's on the nearby desk, haphazardly strewn across its surface.

He'll just go get that then. Or try. Don will probably feel Robert's body shift as the man leans at an extreme angle, attempting to grab the journal without dislodging his sick Turtle occupant.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Despite his illness, the awkward tilting causes Don to reflexively brace both of them. No one will be falling on the floor today.]

[semper_cogitans]

[There's a moment where Robert does feel like he's going to fall, but Don's bracing stops him from doing that - and he manages to grab the journal off the table. Truly, a death-defying stunt for the ages.

Returning to a less-silly upright position, Robert sheepishly hands his partner his journal.]

... Here...

[i_speak_softly]

[Don draws his arms back slowly, wincing a little as he does so.]

Ow...

[But ah, his journal. He takes it happily, looking to see whether anyone answered his earlier transmission.]

[semper_cogitans]

[Maybe this is a sign that Robert should rub his shoulders or something...

But yes. That transmission. Robert actually wonders if he ought to answer it himself. Despite the... somewhat-incoherency about the way the question was posed, it's still fascinating.]

... I could... volunteer an answer as well, if... if you liked.

[i_speak_softly]

[Don looks up, completely forgetting to mute the journal.]

Sure.

[this thread totally has a voice component now if somebody wants to respond to it]

[semper_cogitans]

[Who needs muting when you can just awkwardly broadcast your musings to everybody?]

Well... many of the intellects here in Luceti are those I would... not be surprised to see on Terra. However, the... traits that are prized - those that make up a societal definition of "intellect" - are... different, in other worlds, which... naturally leads to some variation. Especially in those whose... intellect has manifested here... [Like yours truly, and the Turtle in his lap.]

... But intelligence is... n-notable, no matter where it is, or how it manifests itself. As... I have learned.

... There is the additional matter of technological worlds. Though there are few that are... quite as far as Terra seems to be, Ms. Daisy is from a comparable time...

[Give him a minute to think on that second part, though. Or even for a lengthier explanation of the first.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Yeah, you kind of lost him already. Explain further, or maybe just pay more attention to the towel. That's nice too.]

[semper_cogitans]

[Is doing both acceptable? Idly, Robert presses his fingers over the wet towel, attempting to soothe Don's fevered brow a little. He'd just magic the pain away, but so far Don hasn't asked him to do that.]

One... almost wonders what some individuals might be like, were they to have... lived in another world - similarly to the... Luceti Shift that modelled such an occurrence...

[He has less than fond memories about it, but it was still something to think about.]

...

... How would you... suppose that you would combine individuals...? Genetically? Or do you mean... in a metaphorical manner...?

[i_speak_softly]

[Don squirms a little, trying to find a position that eases his fever-aches.]

's just theoretical.

But... the other thing, I think about that a lot.

[semper_cogitans]

[Well, theoretical things are always interesting to think about.]

Ah, I see...

[He'll just follow up on the second sentence though, while Don gets more comfortable.] ... What, precisely, do you... think about in relationship to it...?

[i_speak_softly]

[Comfort seems to be eluding him, and he shifts again and sniffles loudly.]

You know. What I might have done if - if I'd been able to go to school.

[semper_cogitans]

[Robert sobers a little at this. Though he holds immeasurable second-hand pride for the fact Don is self-taught, the fact that Don couldn't get a proper education still makes his blood boil, or at least makes it percolate a little. It's hard to get him to proper blood-boiling anger.]

... I imagine you might... be even more brilliant than you are...

[He can't ignore all that shifting and generally-sounding-ill, though, so he takes the moment to address it.]

Don... would you rather me draw upon Nala to help with your symptoms...? You seem... greatly discomfited.

[i_speak_softly]

[Don nudges Robert's hand away, obviously made nervous by the suggestion.]

Please don't...

[semper_cogitans]

[Sigh. What is he going to do with you, sick Turtle?]

... You really would rather just... sit here feeling ill...? Why...?

[It's not often Robert pushes anything, but he doesn't like seeing Don in distress for too long.]

[i_speak_softly]

It's not that bad. [He coughs several times before continuing, but doesn't amend his previous statement.] 'm already cheating nature too much...

[semper_cogitans]

[Robert doesn't see how Don is cheating nature by doing something like this. Is he cheating nature for wearing a coat so he doesn't freeze outside?

Still, he doesn't pursue this line of questioning, instead just sighing a little in an "oh you" sort of way and readjusting the towel.]

... If you are certain.