With Flotsam broken up to avoid Imperial detection, Donnie wasn't sure how to go about searching for someone who purportedly was some dimensionally-adjacent brother of sorts. For all that he's always been considered the smart one of the family, that seems so difficult to process, but then up until now, it had been relatively easy to accept the fact that there were other worlds beyond, and that the Empire pulled people from them to be used as a free, cheap source of labor. It's sickening, really.
While it had always been a fear of Donnie's to find that perhaps his family had fallen to the same fate as he had, hearing about someone so similar to his own brother and yet at the same time not, had never been something he ever would have thought possible. And it's not that he doubts Shu; this is not something she'd have reason to joke or lie about, not that she'd been known to be a liar or much of a joker in the first place. But it's still hard to believe.
Part of him hopes that maybe somehow, there's been a mistake.
Yet the day has been plagued with mentions, sightings of the older brother who shouldn't be here. It's led Donnie on some sort of wild goose chase, and unlike Raphael, he is familiar with the Vault. It's become home these past few years, even though he's never directly said as much. His own frustrations have since grown as the day wears on. How can someone so big be so impossibly hard to find?!
It's like he's hunting a ghost. Donnie's starting to wonder if he's somehow hallucinated everything, his conversation with Shu, this entire day drifting between places being informed that the turtlekin he sought was in another castle section. He blames the sob that escapes him entirely on exhaustion as he stumbles past the farm area, deciding to give up his search. But his plants have been neglected and he can't not check on them now that he's here.
Visitors to his little garden are rare, but he can tell at once that someone's been here as he sees the flowers along the vines on the wall. Silent Alarms, he'd named them, because the flowers closed up whenever they were disturbed by someone's passing. And certainly someone had passed.
No.
Someone was still here.
A gasp slips from him as he comes around towards the opening of the nook itself and stops, staring at an all too familiar spiky shell.
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While it had always been a fear of Donnie's to find that perhaps his family had fallen to the same fate as he had, hearing about someone so similar to his own brother and yet at the same time not, had never been something he ever would have thought possible. And it's not that he doubts Shu; this is not something she'd have reason to joke or lie about, not that she'd been known to be a liar or much of a joker in the first place. But it's still hard to believe.
Part of him hopes that maybe somehow, there's been a mistake.
Yet the day has been plagued with mentions, sightings of the older brother who shouldn't be here. It's led Donnie on some sort of wild goose chase, and unlike Raphael, he is familiar with the Vault. It's become home these past few years, even though he's never directly said as much. His own frustrations have since grown as the day wears on. How can someone so big be so impossibly hard to find?!
It's like he's hunting a ghost. Donnie's starting to wonder if he's somehow hallucinated everything, his conversation with Shu, this entire day drifting between places being informed that the turtlekin he sought was in another
castlesection. He blames the sob that escapes him entirely on exhaustion as he stumbles past the farm area, deciding to give up his search. But his plants have been neglected and he can't not check on them now that he's here.Visitors to his little garden are rare, but he can tell at once that someone's been here as he sees the flowers along the vines on the wall. Silent Alarms, he'd named them, because the flowers closed up whenever they were disturbed by someone's passing. And certainly someone had passed.
No.
Someone was still here.
A gasp slips from him as he comes around towards the opening of the nook itself and stops, staring at an all too familiar spiky shell.