i_speak_softly | Eleventh Theory [Action/Voice]

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Eleventh Theory [Action/Voice]

((For the duration of the experiment Don's thoughts will be in {curly brackets}, OH GOD SORRY FOR THE BRAINSPAM.))

[Today Donatello is wandering around the village center, enjoying the nice weather and generally exploring. Unbeknownst to him, he is being followed by a thought bubble.]

[As he passes the clinic, on his way to the fountain:]

{... disassociative delusions. Induction of kinesthetic misperception. She thought her arm was artificial, so far as to... I should go visit her.}

[And as he comes into view of the school, he opens his journal:]

Molly, the weather is getting warm... do you want to start building the playground soon?

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Yeah, whatever. Just show me.

... Okay.

[He pulls out a chair and sits down.]

I can't always do it on purpose. But I'll try.

[He stares at the wall. In his thought bubble, the BattleShell. It rotates, the hood opens, the engine pops out. And, as Don's gaze unfocuses and his head tilts to the side, the engine 'explodes', the parts flying in all directions, the thought bubble expanding to contain them. The parts move around each other, each one a perfect three-dimensional replica of its real-life counterpart. Tiny formulas scrawl themselves in the air. And, in a way that's so smooth and gradual that you don't realize it's happening until it's almost finished, the parts reassemble themselves into a different, better kind of engine.]

[And Don stares at the wall.]

[Raph just stares on in awe.] That's...really freaky.

[Getting in on purpose is hard. Getting out on purpose is pretty much impossible. The pictures in Don's enormous thought bubble wander on - machines, abstract equations, lines and lines of text consisting mainly of scientific jargon - all flowing like a slow but mighty river.

As Don remains completely oblivious to reality.]

[He takes a step closer, staring at this craziness like watching rush-hour traffic]

Edited 2010-04-29 03:25 (UTC)

[Words and pictures scurry around Raph, or, being intangible, pass right through him. Don and his thoughts continue to be in their own little world. But, if Raph looks closer, he might see a calm happiness on his brother's face.]

Hm. [Raph doesn't know whether to try and snap Don out of it or leave him to his reverie. He gets it now - how Don can get lost in this stuff and forget about the rest of the world. It's...hypnotic.

So he decides to leave Don to his thoughts, starting the water for tea.]

{BattleShell. Faster. More efficient. Like this... and the same principle could be applied to the Shell Cycle. Maybe even to the Shell Sub. Not to the train car though, he'd gotten it back to the Lair and he wasn't moving it again. No, he has other plans for the train car. Computers. Lab equipment. Medical equipment. And -

A whistle.

A whistle? No, the train's not going anywhere, it doesn't need a ...

... a whistle ...}

[The bubble shrinks, vacuuming itself up, returning to a little contained thing by Don's ear.]

[He blinks slowly at the tea kettle, as though examining a strange alien artifact. Finally:] Your water is boiling.

[He clears his throat and takes the kettle off.] Yeah, I know.

[He rubs his eyes, taking a minute to remember what he was doing in the real world.]

Do you understand now, Raph? Why I do that?

[He snatches a mug out of the cupboard and pours the water in.]

Do what? Zone out like that?

{... Okay. You keep calling it that.}

Never mind.

{A waste.}

[Raph catches his brother's bubble and frowns, holding the warm mug in both hands.]

Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait. What'd I do now?

I get it, okay? 'Scuse me for the bad word choice.

{He knows what it is, but not what it is to me.}

{It doesn't matter.}

Is there enough water for another cup?

Yeah.

[He takes a seat. You can get it yourself.]

[Well, fine. He'll make his own tea.]

You still hate it.

[He shrugs and takes a seat at the table.]

[Don sits again, drinks his tea, and compares his own slowly-shifting thoughts to the roiling images in Raph's bubble.]

[Quietly:] We're both prisoners, aren't we.

[He leans with his elbows on the table, coughing and clearing his throat before answering.]

Don't say it like that.

[Though his thought bubble makes it obvious he has no idea why he shouldn't. It's at least half-true, isn't it? But it also makes them who they are. He wouldn't want to change that...or maybe he's not quite sure if he would. There are things he'd want to change about himself, but at the same time, that's what makes him who he is, and if he changed, it would be like losing a part of himself.

Above him, his thought bubble's cloud wordlessly argues with itself.]

[Forced cheer.] Well, I guess everyone is, in their own way. That's what makes psychology so interesting. {So hard to study.}

[Sips his tea thoughtfully.] I think this experiment has proved that there are certain kinds of freedom we wouldn't want.

[He shrugs again and sips his tea.]

Whatever.

{Too philosophical.}

Feeling any better?

Ah, yeah, I'll probably just try to sleep it off.

You promised you would talk to Leo.

I said I'd talk to Leo. I didn't say when.

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