i_speak_softly: (Painful)
[Voice - October 10]

[This is too important for his usual mangled speech, so Don communicates what he wants to say to Robert, and makes the man repeat it over and over until Don can echo it correctly into the journals:]

Leonardo has gone home.

[Action - October 11]

[The next day, Don turns his mind to practical matters. House 55, which at times has had as many as six residents, is now down to two. At this point it's just silly to keep using the space in the same way. So, on this rainy afternoon, Don heads to the library to pore over diagrams of the floorplan that he has accumulated, and to think about how much has changed since he first moved there with Raph, Casey, and Derek.]

Introspection )

[The winter room is too much for just one Turtle, but since the major construction is already complete, Don just makes some minor tweaks to his plans for stocking it. He dawdles over his blueprints for much longer than is strictly necessary, until late in the afternoon he looks wistfully at all the books he can't read - just a few more weeks - and heads home.]

[Action - October 14]

[Donatello is not okay. His coping methods have collapsed, and he can't deal with this. In a haze of grief and loneliness, he goes to the Battle Dome, picks a program he hasn't seen before, and sets it on a stupidly difficult level. Then he battles artificial enemies until the simulation aborts. In the empty chamber, he screams wordlessly at the walls, not caring who can hear him. When the rage is spent, leaving only the pain, he limps home, bleeding from everywhere. He is not in a mood to accept help.]
i_speak_softly: (AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH)
[When Don opens the door to the storage room, he immediately forgets what he went there for. His housemates will hear him shouting:]

No!

[Later, when he's calmer, a Voice post:]

Derek Bliss has gone home.

[... That's all he can manage.]
i_speak_softly: (Sick day)
Filtered to Friends and Love Interests of Hamatos || Not Up to His Usual Standard

Raph is back.

[It should be apparent from his voice and his merely-mediocre filter that he has been up all night. After his brief message, the recording continues for a few minutes, possibly transmitting the muted voices of other Hamatos in the background, before the feed cuts out.]
i_speak_softly: (*gasp at something over there*)
[Action]

[Donatello wakes up this morning with aches everywhere. It feels like every growing pain he's ever had, all at once, along with a greatly-toned-down reprise of the migraine he had after -

Wait.

He opens his eyes, looks down, and - his feet are far away again. The experiment is over.

He stretches his newly-relengthened limbs, and the soreness eases.]

Hey, Raph...

[He turns his head, and his jaw slowly descends.

The next moment he's scrambling out of bed, grabbing for his journal. He flips it to a new page as he stalks out of the room.]

[Voice]

Please tell me other people are still being affected by the experiment...

((Don is de-chibi-ed, but Raph isn't! After getting some answers, Don will be back in the bedroom, waiting for his little brother to wake up.))
i_speak_softly: (Uncomfortable)
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...))

Profile

i_speak_softly: (Default)
i_speak_softly

June 2020

S M T W T F S
  123456
78910111213
14151617181920
21222324252627
282930    

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated May 22nd, 2025 12:23 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios