003 - A Body in Motion Stays in Motion

[purplexing]

There's always room for improvement. This isn't any new realization so much as a long established fact. It seems that with ever mission and undertaking that Donnie goes through, he finds there's just so much more he doesn't know, or that he can get better at.

Truthfully the past month's left him a bit strained, or at least that's how he's felt. Maybe it's because of the raid, maybe the mission. Maybe the encounter with that horrible duchess. He doesn't know. The previous month had been busier than he'd expected, leaving him no time to go and see if his family was still where he knew them to be, but then he'd been reluctant to check after the address from the Emperor.

He's been restless, always seeking distractions, and with the Corsairs there at least never seems to be a lack for things to do. Repairs to be seen to, new ideas to be drafted and crafted. Upgrades to apply.

I. Armory A
The Armory's a normal haunt for him. He's made progress on the repairs for the Armor he'd scavenged some months back and he's eager to test it out. While he can't do any flying inside, he can at least run through movements, and with the lighter build, it makes it a bit easier to execute more natural moves.

While typically a Feder isn't armed with a polearm, for mobility testing purposes, Donnie's borrowed a spear from a Lanze. It's difficult to pull off the same maneuvers he would with his own staff, but sticking to more basic motions, he tests response times and range of movement, putting the sleek armor through a few drills.


II. Armory B
Perhaps you come across the turtlekin when he's at a workbench, carefully crafting the settings for some very small ether stones. His ENC bracer's currently being used as a paperweight atop one of many schematics he's drawn up, and off to one side his staff rests in its separate sections, along with its normally hidden internal mechanisms. Is that a grappling hook? And the slim knife is certainly a new edition.

As usual he's caught up in his work, not at all meaning to be rude towards any visitors, but you'll have to excuse him for not noticing you there. He also tends to wear his earmuffs tight when in the Armory since it gets loud.


III. Training Rooms
The training dummy before him has seen better days. Unfortunately, as a training dummy, it doesn't have much options for better days, and the rooms have seen plenty more use of late. Today's no exception, and the green lad in the purple mask isn't holding back on his strikes.

A dull metal ring echoes with each hit he makes with his staff, leaving indentations on the dummy between each spin and thrust. He's not sure how long he's been beating up on the thing, but it's a quick way to expend some restless energy. Maybe he's been at it too long, or maybe he just hit the thing too hard, but there's a clang as the titanium staff's slipped from his hands and fallen to the floor, rolling off some ways.


IV. Free Play
((OOC: Need him for anything else or want to do something elsewhere in the Vault? Insert option here!))

Comments

IV - Subterranean Farms

[supersmashbrother]

To think he would have gotten better at navigating the underground after roughly a month's passing...

"I know the sewers like the back of my hand," Raphael grumbles. "This should've been cake by now..."

After hearing about Donnie from Shu, Raph's main objective (aside from lending a hand wherever he could) was to seek his brother out.

His not-brother. The brother who should be hidden away in a science lab that didn't really exist in a place like this. Instead of seeing it as a dead-end, he thought of other similar places his turtle brother would reside — places which were straightforward, but still ways away from each other.

On the other hand, his grasp on the language fares somewhat better than it used to be; despite having several hiccups in trying to mime a book to two civilians because he conveniently forgot the word 'library' in the moment, he's able to ask about Donnie's current whereabouts — and somehow not finding anyone resembling him once he gets there. This happens more times than he expects it to, leaving him to wander almost everywhere to be sure he hasn't missed anything. And he probably would have done it one more time if he didn't looped into helping with a project within the subterranean farms (since he couldn't say no in the first place).

His frustrations eventually wane after doing plenty of heavy lifting and receiving the gratitude of those who don't have to worry about doing as much work for the day, heading off to try another round of searching before giving up and finding something to eat. In doing so, he almost overlooks the vines and purple flowers climbing the rocks along the path he strides; it takes some backtracking when he registers that detail, blinking as he then follows them into the smallish nook within the carved out stone walls.

Purple. Different kinds of purple flowers surround him as he stoops to keep his head and shoulders from touching any of the plants growing within the nook. Initially he's curious about the space, but he notices the other splashes of familiar colors out of the corner of his eye.

Orange. Blue. Red.

"...Waitaminute..."

[purplexing]

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.

[supersmashbrother]

The same spikes — and yet different from what Donnie can remember.

When he finds him, Raph is stooping to get a closer look at the flowers sprinkled among the purples and violets, hesitantly letting a large turtle finger hover over the cluster set somewhere in front of him. It's at the last second he decides not to touch anything — something something about not touching things even if they appear safe and touchable, or if it doesn't belong to him, he doesn't quite remember the full extent of the warning — only to poke at it when trying to withdraw.

Panic rises with a little noise as he makes sure once, twice that the flowers aren't damaged. "Petals are all accounted for," he mutters to himself, then glancing at his finger. After a beat, he finally blows out a sigh when he's sure nothing has changed. "No weird rashes or breakouts. Okay, good! I think it's time I should scoot..."

It's only then he suddenly realizes he isn't alone.

Think, Raph, think! He tries not to flail about, keeping his arms close to his sides as he garbles his words. "Sorry! Didn't mean to intrude— !"

Any further explanation he is supposed to come up with on the fly dies on his tongue once he turns to see his brother there. Blinking twice to be sure his eyes aren't betraying him.

It takes the large turtle a few silent breaths to try again, this time stuck on a name rather than a sentence.

"...Donnie?"

[purplexing]

The words that he hears tumble from the larger turtle are so strange, conflicting. Tally marks that further weigh in on the things that Shu had told him. Something in his chest hurts.

But then Raph turns, and there's no doubting that it is Raph, because there are so many similarities, too many in fact, to contradict that he isn't. Still, Donnie can see them, the little things, in his response, in his movements, tiny details that somehow don't quite mesh, but could easily be overlooked. The inflection of a language that he should have grown up with mashes into each other in that telling way of a foreign tongue unused to where it's supposed to go.

Yet the world goes still the moment the other really looks at Donnie and speaks his name.

Donnie hadn't thought this plan through. It had taken him long enough to even convince himself to go through with seeking this doppleganger of a brother, to set things straight. Now that he's in front of him, Donnie blanks. His mouth starts to move, a shaky, hesitant shaping of a name that doesn't quite reach more than a whisper in volume. His eyes burn with that uncomfortable sensation accompanying the eventual blurring of his vision, and he's not sure if he's angry or relieved or sad.

His brother's here...but not. This is his brother, and at the same time, it isn't. How's he supposed to respond to that? He...he doesn't know.

[supersmashbrother]

It is Donnie. Raph knows that face anywhere. He knows that purple bandana, the goggles, those eyebrows. Trademarks of his brother, including the armored shell.

It also isn't Donnie. The same thing is happening on his end as it is with his brother: there's no denying the similarities, but the details continue to conflict with what his memory tries to reinstate. After everything Shu said about him, his reaction makes it painstakingly clear; the longer there is no response, the more awkward it becomes.

And the way that Donnie looks at him now...he's steadily growing more distressed by the minute in this extended silence.

Raph has beefed it. That's the thought. He's beefed it real good somehow.

He has to fix this.

"Hey," he croaks, making an attempt to bridge the metaphorical gap, trying his darndest to sooth in the same way he always does with his Donnie. And that shouldn't matter, because this is still Donnie. His hands waver between reaching out and staying close, however, trying not to scare him with the urge to immediately wrap him into a turtle-y bear hug. "Uh...is this you? I mean, is this your place? 'Cause it's really...nice an' cozy...?"

His toothy smile falters in the middle of the distraction — a sign showing that he's also wrestling with his own feelings while trying to maintain his older sibling responsibility of making sure Donnie has room to process.

[purplexing]

That he's not the only one unsure about what to do in this situation is perhaps the only reason Donnie doesn't just break down where he stands. Even so, he looks like he's physically trying to hold himself together, his own arms drawn in so tightly against himself, fingers digging into his jacket. He stares at Raph like he's afraid his brother will vanish if he so much as blinks.

That thought frightens him, a clear enough response he can identify enough to know that at least one thing is true; he doesn't want Raph to disappear now that he's here.

He blinks as he realizes Raph's speaking again, hastily scrubbing the back of a hand at his eyes as he tries to listen.

Ugh, his pronunciation is terrible. And yet Donnie's own mouth tries to tug itself into some semblance of a smile, fragile and uncertain. He breathes a laugh, or maybe it's a sob, he's not even sure at this point, but he nods as he gauges how much he trusts himself to speak.

"Y-yeah. This is my garden..." he confirms, as though it isn't obvious, but then he doesn't know how alike he is to this Raph's Donnie. His voice sounds rough around the edges, thick from tears that he'd refused to let fall.

[supersmashbrother]

He worries, hoping that Donnie is more concerned about his mispronunciations than the presence of a brother who isn't exactly his brother, wondering if he's said the wrong word or botched the grammar to a point where he would have the focus on the crime of butchering this world's language.

He can't ignore the way Donnie is trying to hold it together. The scrubbing at his eyes. The weak laugh that doesn't fully pitch the way it should when trying to ease into a joking kind of atmosphere. It hits even worse when he hears the telltale thickness of choked emotion in his answer — a sound that forces itself to be normal, that fails to maintain the tone of neutrality he's so used to hearing.

Forget this. Raph's jumping the gun to bring his brother in.

A step, and big arms now wrap around Donnie, embracing him. The same way Raph does with all of his brothers. His line of sight gives in to a misted, watery state that spills a large tear out of one eye, taking a deep breath to stave off the rest of the emotional wave that threatens to wash over him.

"Raph likes it," he says softly, his voice rumbling in the back of his throat. "It's very Donnie, with all of the purples an' such. The other colors are great, too."

[purplexing]

There are probably worse offenders, but Donnie can't think of them, and perhaps he reserves the right to be extra judgmental about a brother who's not a brother.

He flounders for something else to fill the void of silence that so easily seems to slip in after his words, dreading another moment of awkwardness. The large form in front of him moves, unscripted, unannounced, and Donnie's mind tries to leap over hurdles to catch up with that much before everything trips up as he finds himself engulfed by those big arms.

Instinct is to go rigid, and for the first couple of seconds after contact, he does, a gasp catching in his throat at this unexpected breach of protocol. His smaller frame trembles as he looks up, sight of Raph's own tears prompting his own waterworks to overflow.

And for once...he decides to try and stop overthinking things.

Slowly his own hands begin to rise, arms trying in vain to get around his brother's girth, impossible, but he does what he can. The tiniest of sniffles escapes him as he buries his face against that plastron.

This isn't his brother, but it is. And right now, he's apart from his own brothers too.

"... I do not think anyone has ever regretted having more people to care for - or having more people to care for them," Shu had said. At the time he hadn't said anything, but he supposes he knew what his standing had been, all this time.

"I thought the reds might be too bright, but...I guess it worked out okay."

[supersmashbrother]

Has it been that long? Has he forgotten how small his brothers in general can be? Or has being away from them for longer than usual a side effect of the separation anxiety that has decidedly crept up on him during the lull in a new routine?

It seems silly, to think of it this way. But he isn't used to it. He doesn't want to be used to it. And it's unfair that Donnie has endured being alone for even longer than he has.

Raph senses the shift in Donnie, barely hearing the sniffle as he becomes more aware of the reciprocation of the hug. The attempt to hug him back as tightly as possible now has a weight to it, syncing up and solidifying its realness.

He sniffs, chuckling under his breath. "That's just how reds are."

[purplexing]

The weakest of laughs slips from him at that. "Yeah..."

Donnie may not be able to get his arms around him, but he squeezes every bit of what he isn't sure how to say, or rather isn't prepared to put into words, into that hug. Maybe his days working in the Armory show in that.

He's reluctant to let go right away, shamelessly indulging in something he's longed for far too long. It's only when he starts to wonder if perhaps it might start getting awkward for Raph that he begins to loosen his grip, to see if the other does the same and allows him to step back so he can wipe away the unpleasant dampness from his face.

"How long have you been here? ...Shu said you were staying in Flotsam?"

[supersmashbrother]

Hugs are nice and warm and comforting. He has to give it to this world's Donnie: he's a lot stronger than he looks. Having his sides squeezed is a new sensation.

Although he doesn't show signs of wanting to be free of the hug, Raph reminds himself that Donnie needs to breathe at some point. Not that Donnie is showing any visible distress from being Raph-crushed from his point of view. Still, his arms relax and loosen after a few beats, slowly dropping away as he also takes a small step back.

"Almost a month now, last Raph checked. But yeah, that's where I've been posted," Raph says, running his thumb under an eye. "I met Miss Shu when they had to put together a scouting crew for scouting reasons."

[purplexing]

As much as he treasures his personal space, being so securely crushed is something he hasn't realized he's missed until now. His older brother would never let anything happen to him if it could be helped. Donnie's arms are a little sore from his clinging, kind of like the burn he gets after pounding out things at the forge.

Scouting crew for scouting reasons. Uh...huh. That probably wouldn't normally make much sense, but he knows there's always multiple things going on with the Corsairs when it comes to undertakings.

"Out near Elysium, right? How'd that go?" He'd heard about talks to start setting up another space for refugees. A month, though? He feels bad that he hadn't found out sooner, but he's not sure how much easier it would have been, either. They've gotten this far however, so maybe it would have worked out either way.

"I was helping capture Imperial airships since I know my way around them. We're still going to need more."

[supersmashbrother]

Raph perks. "It went okay! We got in there an' found old buildings that still had their foundations in place." As he recounts this, he frowns. "'Cept it was already occupied by giant, spiky bugs an' their queen, so it made for a few complications." Again, he brightens, flexing an arm to pump it, clapping a hand over his bicep as he does so. "But once I was able to smash, we made short work of them like the bosses we are!"

So he skims a bit. He doesn't want to worry Donnie about his temporary injuries purposely punching into the spiked carapaces and almost getting doused in sprays of acid.

The expression he holds for a brief moment is one of pride; even if it isn't a direct tie to digital technology, the mechanical aspects still ring true. His brow creases, however. "How many are we talkin'? Last I heard, Flotsam had to split up because of the Empire. It wouldn't be surprising if we lost a bunch during that time..."

[purplexing]

At least it sounds like the space they were investigating could work out. Donnie shudders at the mention of giant bugs though. "Euggh...." Suddenly he's glad he was not on that mission after all.

Raph's pantomime makes him laugh, even if at the same time it also pokes a familiar ache. His Raph was fond of smashing too. This boss talk was new though. "Heh, I don't doubt it. Good work."

He's not sure what to make of the other turtle's expression but it warms him somehow. Donnie's smile fades a bit, nodding as he's all too aware of what's happened with Flotsam. "That's what it does when it's threatened, makes it difficult for the Empire to track. We lost some of our number some months back when the Empire launched a coordinated attack on several different locations. Had to abandon the mines we'd not too long before managed to claim from them." He sighs, still a bit bitter about that, but he hopes at least they'd collapsed enough of it in their retreat to make it difficult for the Imperials to make it functional again.

"...but as to your question, I don't think they've put an exact number. We always need more airships, especially since we don't have the numbers the Empire does. Then we'd have more means to better protect Flotsam's seabound structures. But we'll also need more for transportation, especially with all the people we've been housing here in the Vault."

[supersmashbrother]

If he's anything like his counterpart here, it doesn't take much for Raph to feel appreciated.

The nuances continue to jar and separate his brother from this version of the very same, but it still matches up in the way he gives shorter blurbs for the updates he hasn't fully caught up on — like he can blink and he'd be back in the sewers in their makeshift den, having Donnie debrief about any recent findings from their most recent outings on the streets.

He hums at that, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, it's been pretty cramp an' everyone's been touchy. Which is understandable! This place just doesn't have the capacity." Not like he has any personal experience with how some people have been feeling lately. "Do we have any real timeline on when we'd try goin' out again?"

[purplexing]

Donnie nods. The tension in the Vault's atmosphere hasn't been lost on him, and that's probably why he'd thrown himself on so many missions of late, aside from just wanting to avoid thinking too hard on things from said missions.

"It takes some time for people to organize, but usually we break off in groups once some plans and targets are set. If there's something, you'll hear about it."

He considers for a moment. Well, he can come tend his plants later. Glancing up at Raph again, he hesitantly reaches for one of those big hands. "Come with me," he says, trying to tug him along.

[supersmashbrother]

Raph's brow knits as he places his hands on his hips. "Okay. That'll have to do, then." He doesn't sound fully convinced, but there's nothing else he can really do to move everything else along.

"Really?" Mind Raph butts in, annoyed. "You're just gonna let it be?"
He bristles a bit. "Look, you wanna be out here? What choice do we have?"
"That sounds like defeatist talk!"
"Ugh! Things are very different here! Ya just don't get it..."

...Never mind the fact that Raph is actually talking to himself aloud here. Not completely acting out, but there's enough muttering to be concerned about him.

In the middle of organizing his thoughts and making literal mental notes about keep an ear to the ground for such causes, he almost doesn't notice Donnie tugging on his hand. "—Uh?" Oh. So he'll organize the rest of those thoughts later. Mind Raph poofs and he turns his attention to his younger brother, allowing himself to be redirected. "What's up? Where are we headed?"

[purplexing]

Look, he doesn't make the rules here, he just finds whatever thing's moving in a direction he figures he'd be best applied to and jumps aboard.

What Donnie does not expect however is to see his older not!brother arguing with himself.

"....uh."

He stares a moment, pausing from tugging, but it seems Raph's come back to his senses. Hopefully this Raph didn't break during the whole being warped into another world thing. Donnie pats his hand the way someone would in absent reassurance of someone who otherwise had no idea what they were doing with themselves.

"My room. I figure I should let you know where I'm staying," he says as he leads the way.

[supersmashbrother]

Sometimes it is better not to think too hard about Raph's quirks. It will never truly make sense. He's grateful for the hand pat — the little effort into being present with him helps immensely even if he isn't as overwhelmed as he used to be when he first got in.

A little 'oh!' is heard somewhere in the background of their paused conversation, being pulled out of the garden nook and keeping pace with the younger terrapin. He's mindful of his size and how busy some of the corridors get, naturally slipping after Donnie with a few ''scuze us' dotted along the way.

"If I recall correctly," he speaks up, "all of the newer folks are living in the dormitories. Isn't that in the other direction, though?"

[purplexing]

There's more than a few curious looks after them as they navigate through the halls. Usually they only ever see one turtlekin slinking about, although some look a touch amused to see the smaller one pulling the bigger one in tow.

"The regular ways get too clogged up lately because of the other people staying. This way's a bit longer but not as busy," Donnie explains. "There's the residential district where the actual homes are. They look nice but it's higher up so you can hear the noise from the Imperial's testing grounds a lot more unless you have the nicer places that are built deeper in." He makes a face, tapping at his earmuff-goggles. "That's why I wear these most of the time."

[supersmashbrother]

Raph's eyes roam as he keeps up with Donnie, still having a time trying to differentiate between hallways. It's exactly like the sewers and how they all have similar features whenever he and the other turtles went wandering through them. The lack of a population filling the area helps determine its necessity as an alternate path, however. "I gotta remember this for later...

"Eh, think I can deal with the noise, but I can see how that can get annoying real fast," he says with a tilt of his head, noting the earmuff-goggles. "You'd think they would've built the tops ones a little deeper, though!"

[purplexing]

Donnie shrugs. He eventually releases Raph's hand since it's getting kind of awkward, but at least down this way there's not much chance of losing each other.

"No idea. This was all here well before I ever arrived. It took a lot of getting used to. Couldn't sleep much at first because I wasn't used to the noise. It's a lot different than out by the coast. But at least things are big enough in some areas that it's not completely claustrophobic."

He points as they begin to near the dormitories. "Almost there."

[supersmashbrother]

Mild disappointment comes in the form of a brief pout now that his hand is free again. Unlike Donnie, he didn't mind holding hands; it's something his Donnie would also do, anyway, knowing his tolerance of physical touch is on the lower end of the scale. And Raph is Raph, overstepping boundaries at times, but he knows his brother well enough to wait for his cues.

With more space, they can slow down a bit. And Donnie tells him he's not used to being under the ground. "The coast...where you used to be, right?" He asks this as gently as he can, curious about his past living arrangements. "Was it quieter out there? Or did giant ships sail by, like they did on the Hudson?"

[purplexing]

"Yeah. It's on the northern tip of Ennistis, a good ways from Elysium. On foot you'd have to pass through a lot of dense wood to get between places." Donnie sighs wistfully. "It was so much quieter though. Just the waves and the seabirds... or father's snoring. Or the others yelling."

So maybe not so quiet. But here the atmosphere always seems heavy for the constant thundering of weapons testing up on the surface level. It had given him such a bad headache the first few nights he'd spent here. Everyone kept telling him he'd get used to it, but the turtlekin decided it wasn't something he wanted to get used to.

"The only ships we ever saw were airships in the distance, so high up they were like weird birds. What's the Hudson?"

[supersmashbrother]

There's a faint smile at the memory Donnie conjures up, sympathetic and perhaps even slightly pained with how close he can easily lay the New York-bound family over his coastal one. "That ain't so bad. It's kind of nice, like...well, like what a home is supposed to be like."

Much more preferable than the amount of noise that happens here. It's nothing like the rumble of the subway system, or the construction closer to street level. Just the sounds of rushing water, the dripping of water from the pipes running rampant through the tunnels, the rough scrape of a skateboard's wheels when it races over the worn stonework and grinds the metal rails of abandoned stations...

It may not show much, but he almost feels sick thinking about it.

"Y'know, the Hudson River? It runs through New York City, where we— I live."

This somehow worsens the taste in his mouth, frowning at his correction before shaking his head.

"Ships don't really fly where I'm from. They stay on the water. Sometimes they're barges for cargo crates an' for tuggin' other large ships in, other times it's a giant yacht shootin' off fireworks. Or full of tourists. The only things that stay in the air are birds, planes, an' helicopters."