i_speak_softly | Thirtieth Theory [Action]

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Thirtieth Theory [Action]

My sons... MY SONS!

[Donatello stands outside House 55, his shell resting against the wall, staring into the fog.]

Someone help me!

[It's not real.]

NOOOOOOOO!

[That's what everyone has been saying on the journals. So Don doesn't fall into the trap, doesn't go into the mist. (Through the red lens over his eye, it looks like a spray of arterial blood. When he loses focus, he starts to see the red cloud with both eyes. Then he blinks and it's gone again.) But he doesn't go inside either. He can't walk away from his father's voice. Not even when the words give way to pained cries, not even when cold fear grips him as he realizes he doesn't know who needs help.]

[No one. It's not real.]

[Still, he can't bring himself to move.]

((Not marked as Voice because he isn't saying anything, but if you call him over the journals he'll answer. Stay inside tonight, Luceti...))

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[Frederic had gotten out of his apartment, yet he was still trembling and trying to shake off the hallucination he had before taking his walk. In the fog, he kept the voices of his sisters and friends, but he knew none of them were here or were they? He'd heard people over the journals saying they weren't real or only figments of the mind, but they sounded so real. Eventually he reaches Donatello's house and sees him standing outside.]

Donatello?

[Don stares at the indistinct figure for a long moment before deciding that yes, this is a real person. He can't quite tell who it is, though.]

Who's there?

[Frederic gets closer to the house and out of the fog, a small smile appears on his face when he does see his friend in in fact real.]

It's me, Frederic. Are you all right?

Frederic. [He moves aside a little, inviting the composer into the relatively fog-less pocket against the side of the house.]

[He nods to the night.] What do you hear out there?

[Sitting beside his friend, he sighs a little and looks out into the night with him.]

My sisters and friends, sometimes my parents. But I know they can't be here, but my heart wants to believe they are.

I know how you feel. [He turns his head, taking in Frederic's costume.] Nice.

[He sighs more and looks a little annoyed.] I look like Dracula if he were in the 18th century. This costume is ridiculous and I don't like it one bit.

I don't think this can last much longer.

[Frederic hopes it doesn't, looking like this (http://xbox360media.ign.com/xbox360/image/article/821/821012/soulcalibur-iv-20070919063251568.jpg) for another week is ridiculous.] Donatello, could we stay in company for quite some time? I would feel much better knowing you are near.

Sure. [He gazes again into the fog.] I don't think it's a good night to be alone.

Before coming here, I was hallucinating outside of my community building. [He sighs.] I have to stay far away from any signs of blood.

Oh... [He blinks again, and the redness fades.] Are you all right?

For the most part, yes. [He looks seriously depressed.] I'm afraid I won't be able to have anything to drink for a while, every liquid turns to blood.

I - I know how that feels. [The illusions are bad, but sometimes they pale in comparison to reality.]

[He turns to look at his friend.] I'm sorry for depressing you, Donatello. You're my friend, I should be thinking of ways to help you smile.

[A sideways look, slightly surprised.] It's not depressing. It's part of who I am.

[He shakes his head and frowns.] I meant with my talking of hearing things in the fog, I don't want to make you feel even more depressed than you are now I'm certain.

No, I -- Do you want to talk about it? Your family?

My family? I don't mind if I talk about them. [He seems to be in thought when he speaks of them.] There's my father Nicholas, my mother Justina, my older sister Louise, and finally my two younger sisters Isabella and Emilia.

[He looks out into the fog.] What are they saying?

Calling for me to come to them and saying they're near. You can't hear them?

No... I - think everyone hears something different.

I see. [He's quiet then speaks again.] I do not know if Polka ever told you this, but you sound like someone I knew from home. She also happen to know this person as the three of us traveled together.

Yes. [It feels like so long ago.] She mentioned. An... Ara... Allegretto.

Yes, Allegretto. He was a boy from Ritardando who helped us save the world against Count Waltz.

I guess that kind of thing is bound to happen. [People sounding alike, that is. Although boys saving the world seems to be pretty common also.]

[Winnie the Pooh-Smoker looks worried.]

Don? You all right??

[The voice is familiar, but he can't tell who's inside the ridiculous bear costume.]

Yes, um...?

[Oh god he doesn't want to openly admit he's the one stuck in a giant teddy bear costume! So, sorry Don, he's ignoring that now.]

What happened?

I thought no one wanted to go out in the fog.

[Suit yourself, mystery person. Don's replies will be more guarded than usual.]

I'm not out in the fog. I'm still touching the house. [He raps his gauntleted knuckles against the wall, just to prove his point.]

Does that count?

... It's Smoker by the way. [See the smoke? It's a little harder to tell in the fog, but being stuck in a giant children's cartoon bear suit isn't going to stop him from smoking. Nothing will stop him. In any case, he doesn't want to make Donatello even more guarded.]

[He thought the fog was moving a little oddly in your vicinity.

He relaxes a little, now that he knows who you are. And he's not in the mood to make fun.]

Mike would say so.

[A soft grunt.]

Shit like this happen to you guys that often?

Often enough. [He reconsiders the pat answer.] More than often enough.

[Quiet laugh.] Your world must be one hell of a place. Or a lot like the Grand Line with more stable buildings.

We have a knack for stumbling across the stranger corners of it.

At least it can't be too boring.

Never.

Heh. So this is as far as you're going to explore?

I've heard what happens out there. [Sideways glance.] Why are you walking around, anyway?

To see it for myself. I'm not the type to stay indoors when there's trouble going on and if there's someone out here who needs help. [Shrugs.]

Did you find anyone?

No, but I went over to check on Kohaku for a bit.

[Oh, he knows her. A little.] Are you friends with her?

Kind of, yeah. I'd like to think so anyway.

She seems like a hard person to get to know...

Kohaku?? The angel??? I don't know about that.

Well, yes, she's an angel. How do you talk to someone like that?

[A small chuckle.] You just do.

[A soft answering laugh.] I didn't.

[Shrugs.] I don't know, in general you don't have to overthink it? She's pretty easy going and she doesn't know a lot about humans, but it works out.

We have something in common, then.

See? There you go.

Maybe I'll see her again sometime. [Wait a minute -] Smoker, did you come here on purpose?

Just checking up.

We're okay here. But - thanks.

Glad to hear it Don. If you need anything, let me know.

[There's a bedraggled looking clown lady coming from the direction of the village. April is back from her misadventures with Vash (http://community.livejournal.com/lucetilogs/179220.html?thread=14130964#t14134292) in the forest, and now all she wants is a shower and a blanket to hide under. She notices Don outside with a mixture of gladness and worry.]

Hey.

[Don studies April for a moment, and decides she's not an illusion.]

April. What were you doing out there?

[She leans against the porch railing for a moment, pulling off one giant floppy shoe and emptying some sand and rocks out of it.] Oh. You know. The usual. What are you up to?

[Don raises a brow. April's definition of 'usual' sure has changed since she met them.]

[He tilts his head toward the fog-shrouded path.] Listening.

Hear anything worth hearing? [She can pretty much guess the answer to that.]

[One word should be all the answer April needs.]

Splinter.

Ah. Is he...okay? [It's an awkward question: what she means to ask is whether or not it's Splinter screaming in agony or Splinter being calm and reassuring.]

... No.

Donatello. It's not real. [April lays her hands on his shoulders, trying to get him to calm down.] It's not really him.

[Don looks at April, until his eyes slide away to focus somewhere over her shoulder.]

It's more than I've had for eight months.

....Are you going to stay out here?

For a while.

Want a blanket? Or some company? Anything? [April isn't expecting him to accept her offer of company.]

I'll be fine.

[She nods. It was the answer she expected.] If you need me, you come get me. Understand?

[Later. Later he'll probably be in her room, telling her a story in soft, urgent tones. Sharing memories of Splinter, as though that will somehow help to preserve his existence. For now, he only nods.]

[April tries to give him an encouraging smile, but she can feel it falling short. If he does come, she'll listen. It's all she can really do.]

[Later, after Raph has calmed down from his bathroom hallucinations...]

[Don emerges from his room, crosses the common area, and knocks softly at April's door.]

Come in? [April is curled up in the bed. A book lies open on the bed in front of her but she hasn't been reading it at all.]

[Don comes in and closes the door behind him, but doesn't move any further into the room.]

Do you - have some time?

[Any awkwardness or resentment left over from the Raphael incident melts away at his tone.] Yeah. For you? I've got time.

[He shifts his weight from foot to foot.] I - don't know where to start.

[She says nothing, just nods encouragingly. April knows enough about Donatello to understand that the thoughts will come at their own pace.]

[He decides to come at things sideways.]

Were you serious about wanting to learn Japanese?

Well, yeah. Yeah, I'd like to learn it someday. [Holding back on the "What does THAT have to do with anything?" comment. It does. He'll make her see.]

[He comes to sit cross-legged on the end of the bed, facing in.] Why?

[She shifts to face him, tossing the book onto the bedside table, and answers with a ready quip.]

At some point it would be fun to find out what Master Splinter's muttering at me when I screw up my katas.

[He can't help laughing at that.] How long have you known him, April? A year?

Thirteen months! [Defensive! But SO happy to hear that laugh. She twists her fingers together, a nervous habit.]

[He tips sideways to stretch out across the bed. If that's okay with April.] He really likes you, you know.

[And April leans back against the wall, hugging her knees to her chest. Happy that he's comfortable around her, especially after he'd seemed so horrified at waking up beside her the other morning.]

Yeah, I know. I really like him, too. He's...kind of like my sanity, sometimes.

[He raises a brow.] A four-foot-tall rat is your sanity? Do you have something else going on I don't know about?

Four close friends who are giant turtles? Oh, wait--you know about that already.

You've mentioned them. [He rolls onto his stomach.] Okay, I can see how Master Splinter is comparatively sane. Though it's kind of amazing that he still is.

Yeah, well--[She slides down onto her back beside him, folding her arms behind her head]--someone has to be. [It is probably clear that she's still upset about the Raphael encounter.]

[He's quiet for a while.] Are you okay?

I know him well enough that--YES. I am okay. He needs us, Don. I acted like an idiot. Blame the clown outfit, maybe, I dunno. The thing is, I know how to push his buttons and I didn't stop myself from doing it back there, and I feel horrible about that.

I guess I'm just tired.

[Oh. They're talking about Raph now.]

He has a funny way of needing people, April. He won't even talk to me when he's like that. You're not the first person to get frustrated with his stonewalling and you won't be the last.

[He buries his head deeper in his folded arms.] And considering the circumstances this week, I think some general amnesty would be in order.

Amnesty. Yeah, I've got plenty of that. [She absently strokes the back of that head in soothing circles.] What about you? You feel cold. Why didn't you take a blanket out there with you.

Why didn't I bring you a blanket? Is this national April Is a Bad Friend day?

April. [He frees one hand to catch her elbow.] I don't need a blanket.

[She holds still, then, her hand resting on his head.] Yes, you did. Do. You do.

[He sighs, releasing her arm.] I promise, for the next four months you can mummify me in blankets and force-feed me hot meals. Just give me these last three days first.

Why? Donnie, what did you hear?

... Huh?

Outside? When you were outside. [April thinks he wants space to focus on his father's voice.] Do you think it really might be him? He can do that spiritual communication thing, right? [She moves her hands as though to illustrate "spiritual communication thing."]

[His gaze turns sad.] I haven't felt him since I got here. Remember, from where he is, it looks like I never left. I just meant that I don't want the season to end sooner than it has to.

Oh. Right. Well, maybe we'll have an extra-warm winter. [Very brave sentiment, April.] Or maybe I can convince you to wear some clothes.

Raph, Leo, and Mike arrived in the woods in the middle of a blizzard. The Malnosso have no sympathy for reptiles. [And you're probably not going to win that debate.]

I'm not letting you out in a blizzard. We'll keep you two warm in here, Derek and I. He can do the cooking and I can do the blanket-mummification.

Watch us get kidnapped and dumped in the lake. [But more seriously.] April - how much have you seen of us in the winter?

Not a WHOLE lot. Why?

[He rubs his feet togther nervously.] There's probably some things you should know.

Then there's probably some things you should tell me.

[He hesitates before beginning.] First, forget everything you believe about blankets and hot baths.

[April raises a hand, like a student in a classroom.]

Can I remember that I really like warm blankets and hot baths on a cold day?

[Oh, April. If anyone can make this disclosure less humiliating, you can.]

Correction: Forget everything you believe about the value of blankets and hot baths to hypothermic turtles.

Yes sir! Now you've got me pretty curious, though...

Listen, April... [Serious again.] In case anything happens. The key is to raise the surrounding temperature, gradually. We'll do the rest. Insulation in the form of blankets is worse than useless, and our temperature should never be raised too quickly, no matter how tempting it may seem. Do you understand?

Of course. And now I can build that sauna I always wanted.

[But, joking aside...] What about...external heat sources?

In moderation, and indirectly.

Uh---what does that mean? [She woke up with you wrapped around her, Don. She wants to know.]

It means don't point the space heater at us. Just have it in the room. [That's a different conversation, April.]

Okay, okay. I'm getting a little nervous with all this information. Makes me feel like my winter will be spent spoon-feeding soup to two semi-conscious icy turtles. [She's kidding, Don. Mostly.]

No, no, it's not like that. [Usually. But it may be time to tackle the other half of the conversation.] Except for the semi-conscious.

What...?

[This is so awkward. The pillow is suddenly a fascinating thing to look at.] We don't spend the winter falling in lakes. But we do spend it conserving energy. The first thing to go is... coherent thought.

Oh. Oh, super. [A tinge of panic enters her voice.]

[He reaches out to touch her arm, a steadying gesture.] This is why I'm telling you now. We're fine. We're just not very good conversationalists.

When do you get "coherent thought" back?

When we can spare the resources. [He shakes his head.] It might not be like that this winter, April. We have reliable heat and food here, barring earthquakes. I just wanted you to know... because I might not be able to tell you later.

Maybe you should make me a list of things you want. Or need. Now, so that, just in case anything goes...incoherent...I'll have it down on paper.

[Like a living will. But she doesn't want to call it that.]

April. [He can meet her gaze now.] We don't need anything. That's the whole purpose.

[She simply nods. Because as far as she is concerned, there's nothing true about that. Raphael and Donatello need their father and brothers. She realizes that she's been trying to fill a turtle-and-rat-shaped hole for the past few weeks and has gotten nowhere with it.]

[He pushes himself up on his elbows.] I should go.

No, wait! I mean...why? You can stay if you want. You were supposed to be the one doing the talking, and I was supposed to be the listening one, and we never really got around to it...

I've done nothing but talk...

Sure, about me, and Raph, and cold-blooded biochemistry. Not about how you're doing with...everything.

You, Raph, and the details of my biology isn't 'everything'?

Donnie. You left out the all-important subject of you, and I never gave you a chance to get to that.

[The furrow in his brow deepens.] April, I don't understand. How has any of this not been about me?

Edited 2010-11-04 23:57 (UTC)

[A sigh.] Never mind. You should go do whatever it is you need to do.

I was just going to go to bed... [He starts to push himself up again, then hesitates. April looks unsatisfied.] April, what do you want me to say?

That's not how it works, Donatello. Go to bed.

[He doesn't know what he did. He gets up, and, with a brief glance back, heads to his room. Tonight's events require a long meditation session.]

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Thirtieth Theory [Action]

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