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]

[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.]

[semper_cogitans]

[...

Robert's pace slows, and almost stops, as he absorbs this information. It's... huge. It's something that honestly disturbs him, in ways that he's not quite sure he can express. The fact it was done against Don's will - and the fact that it destroyed his beautiful mind in ways that Robert finds disturbingly similar to what happened to Syre recently - just sends a shudder through him, a visceral sort of pain that is made all the more horrible by the realization that it will happen and there's nothing he can do about it.

... Eventually, he just quiets and leans against Don, embracing his shell in a close, possessive way.]

... I am... s-so sorry...

... ... [It's terrible, but... there has always been the possibility that the Malnosso could do this as well. Now, at least, Robert might know what to expect. If it ever happens.

... He'll hold onto that, at least, as a small bright spot.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Don has known parts of this almost since his arrival in Luceti, and he's already struggled with the horrible inevitability of it. What was most upsetting about reading Leo's notes was hearing the story in the words of a brother who's no longer here - being reminded of his family's unbreakable bonds when he is so very far away from them. It's a terribly lonely feeling, and he thinks he would go through any kind of mutation if it would just bring them back to him.]

[semper_cogitans]

[Though Robert might not actively be feeling this way at the moment, he wants more than ever to try to fill that void of family in Don's life - even if he realizes now that, truthfully, he cannot. Nothing can... and even his best efforts will not be enough.

It all makes him feel so useless.]

... Th-thank you... for... f-for telling me something so... i-important...

[It's the only thing he can really say.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Don blinks back to the present, and murmurs:] Please don't lean on me.

[semper_cogitans]

[Robert pulls away then, chagrined and - only mildly - hurt, and stares almost blankly at the brush still floating on the water in the bucket.

Presently, he asks in a quiet voice:] ... Do you wish for me to... c-continue...?

[i_speak_softly]

[In answer, Don just mumbles some sort of unenthusiastic affirmation.]

[semper_cogitans]

[Well, it would be silly to leave the job half-done anyway. Robert picks up the brush again and resumes his cleaning job, though in a much more sober and generally quiet way.

He doesn't really know what to say... so he doesn't say anything.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Don hunches forward, playing with the grass around his knees.]

Did you want to talk about anything?

[semper_cogitans]

[What's a topic that wouldn't be nearly so uncomfortable? It takes Robert a moment of quiet cleaning of Don's shell to respond to this.]

... If I were to cultivate plants in the garden... I would like to know which ones you think would be... s-suitable.

[Maybe ones that best symbolize the families and worlds that they both can't have with them.]

[i_speak_softly]

[In a weak attempt at a joke typical in House 55:]

I'm an engineer, not a botanist.

[semper_cogitans]

[The joke is familiar at least, and Robert smiles weakly in return, though it may be difficult for Don to see.]

... Perhaps, but... you do not need to be a b-botanist to... suggest plants your sensei enjoys...

... And if not... perhaps I will need to review the e-encyclopedias of botany you so thoughtfully provided e-earlier...

[i_speak_softly]

[Don hunches up his shoulders, and it may be obvious even from the awkward angle that he's trying not to cry.]

[semper_cogitans]

[Robert immediately realizes that he said the worst possible thing under the circumstances, and his chest feels like it tears as he watches Don try to hold back his tears.

I was only trying to help... And yet Robert knows how pitiful that excuse is. He doesn't even try to defend himself.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Don stands abruptly, giving Robert a "stay here" kind of pat on the knee as he does so, and heads towards the house. He'll be back in a minute.]

[semper_cogitans]

[It takes a lot of discipline for Robert to not follow Don at this. A lot more than is probably obvious, honestly.

But Don's orders are ones that he does not disobey lightly. So he sits in place, just staring at his knees and hands instead.]

[i_speak_softly]

[Distracted as he is, Don doesn't particularly notice any of this. But he returns momentarily with the encyclopedia of Earth botany, resumes his former position, and begins silently paging through the large volume.]