Sixty-Ninth Theory [Voice]

[i_speak_softly]

[Yesterday the village grew quiet, as many villagers were called on a draft, and many others began the anxious wait to see if their friends and loved ones would return to the village safely.]

[Also yesterday, a breath of warm weather arrived in Luceti. Don has been out enjoying it, trying not to dwell on those who are fighting on a flying island right now. He has enough other things on his mind, and around midday he does something about one of them.]

Filtered to Beast || Unhackable

Beast... I haven't thanked you properly for what you did for Robert and me. For everything you've done for us.

End Filter

[Later, he leaves a brief, unfiltered message:]

Would anyone be interested in learning how to program computers and fix cars?

Comments

[i_speak_softly]

[... He meant closer to the water, but okay.]

[He settles cross-legged on the ground, and stares at nothing in particular for a moment before saying:]

I guess I should begin at the beginning.

[semper_cogitans]

[Hey, it's what happens when you give such a direct order. Maybe Robert would've gotten the hint if Don stared at the river some more first.

In any case...]

... That... seems a prudent place to begin, yes...

[i_speak_softly]

[Don gathers his thoughts, and begins here:]

Ironically, the first thing is mostly a blank. Shortly after the last thing I remember, Ultimate Drako attacked the Lair and zapped us all to different dimensions. Wherever he sent me, I never talked about it.

[semper_cogitans]

[Ultimate Drako... the fusion being that the Hamatos had discussed, who whisked them off to different worlds... hmm. Where could Don have possibly been sent that made him unwilling to speak of it?]

... That seems... s-strange... [Though Don has been recalcitrant before. But with his brothers?]

[i_speak_softly]

[He remembers some other solo adventures he's never told anyone about, has tried to fit this new blank into that framework... but really, it could be anything.]

After that, Bishop kidnapped Master Splinter, but we found him by using my train car.

[semper_cogitans]

[The man suppresses a slight shudder. Everything he's heard about this Bishop has been abominable, and the less he's involved with things, the better. Poor, poor Robert.]

And Master Splinter was... a-alright...?

[i_speak_softly]

[Don hesitates, thrown by the strangeness of this story: telling of things that haven't happened to him yet in past tense.]

He... yes.

[semper_cogitans]

[It's strange, but Robert is rationalizing it as the retelling of Leo's story - for him, this was all past tense.]

... Good.

[Robert breathes in slowly and resettles a little in place.] What... what happened next...?

[i_speak_softly]

After that... the part where Leo got the scar.

[Please don't ask him the details of that adventure.]

[semper_cogitans]

[As much as Robert's inherent curiosity begs for answers on this point, Robert can see he'd better not push it, so he just stays quiet. He does put his hand on Don's, though.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Don frowns now, and the fingers of his free hand tap against his leg as he thinks.]

I forget what's next. It's all jumbled up.

[semper_cogitans]

[Unfortunately, Robert can't help with this part.]

... Perhaps a review of the c-contents would be in order...

But is there... a-anything else?

[i_speak_softly]

[There was one part Don wanted to be sure to talk about, but first he has to confess to something else. He flaps his wings almost violently, scowls in irritation, and says:]

I give. It's driving me crazy.

[semper_cogitans]

... [At this, Robert just gives Don an uncertain look. Give what?]

[i_speak_softly]

[Well, that is kind of weird and unsettling.]

Why are you looking at me like that? You've been wanting to fix it practically since I got home.

[semper_cogitans]

[And now it clicks. The sudden comprehension on Robert's face might be almost amusing.]

... Ah. You... you mean your shell...

[Should he get up for some cleaning utensils? Because he's about to if Don isn't specific.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Now that they've gotten that out in the open, and Don doesn't have to be all stoic about it, he slumps forward, burying his face in his hands.]

There's a bucket under the bathroom sink.

[semper_cogitans]

[Robert pretty much knows exactly where all the cleaning implements of the house are located, so he'll be off in a jiffy to go grab them, yep.

In the meantime Don can just... make himself comfortable. Maybe even go closer to the water if he wants?]

[i_speak_softly]

[Indeed, Don will move some distance down the hill while Robert is inside. Hopefully the scientist will find him here.]

[semper_cogitans]

[Considering the height advantage the hill gives, it shouldn't be too hard.

Eventually, the scientist returns, with a bucket full of water, a sturdy brush (it was formerly paired with the bucket), veterinary-grade soap in a small bottle - and a thin, long-handled comb.

He sidles up next to the Turtle, looking rather like someone out of the world's most open-air barber shop.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Don glances up, then resettles to face downhill and pulls his bandana tails over his shoulder. Go for it.]

[semper_cogitans]

[Robert settles himself somewhat behind the Turtle, on his knees for extra height, and wets the brush in the carefully-lukewarm water. He pours a little soap onto the bristles and begins to work the brush against Don's shell, focusing on washing off the grime and coaxing the half-shed scutes away from the living shell's remainder.

As he does this, there's the mental satisfaction of solving a problem that has been bothering him for awhile. Finally, he thinks, Don is amicable to cleaning. He only wonders why the Turtle didn't allow this sooner.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Don is silent for a long while, though he gives no indication as to whether he's enjoying this cleaning or merely putting up with it. Eventually, he continues with his story.]

I should tell you about... the infection.

[semper_cogitans]

[Robert pauses a moment to carefully prise off another scute, peeling it away to expose the lovely fresh shell underneath, and then gently scrubs at the point where he extracted it, placing the scute in an ever-growing pile on the ground next to him.

Though his tone is noticeably casual, he does respond to this with a somewhat more... worried voice.]

... The... infection...?

[i_speak_softly]

[Don reaches back and picks up a scute, using it to keep his hands busy as he tells the most difficult part of the story. In quiet, measured tones, he relates the initial infection, the lingering illness, the secondary mutation. The things he did to his friends and family, and the lengths they went to to save him. The way he didn't remember it afterwards.]

[Eventually he trails off, waiting for Robert's reaction.]