001 - If I Keep Looking Forward I Won't Fall Back [Vault]

[purplexing]

I. The Armory
Donnie hasn't talked about the last mission. He hasn't talked much to anyone. Not entirely strange, but then nor is his preoccupation with work. At the moment he's taking a break from fixing up the armors that had been acquired during the taking of Hesaeth, working instead on more personal weapons. Or in this case, repairing them.

His staff is in pieces. Normally it collapses into something discreet enough to carry, but some of those pieces have very obvious indentations, damage sustained from the encounter with Lord Gundhir's son. The turtlekin picks up one of the cylindrical segments, holding it up in closer inspection. Repairing it would be possible although he'd likely have to reforge some pieces, but what good would it be if it would still essentially break under pressure?

...

Pushing aside an errant thought, Donnie sets the piece down, pulling out his notebook and a folded sheet of paper from within, flattening it out. The original designs for his collapsible staff, and extra notations for other additions to it. It still needs to be sturdier, but lighter too, especially if he plans to include more capabilities.

He doesn't look up at whoever approaches, only barely hearing the footsteps thanks to the mufflers he always tends to wear, especially down here where there's just so much noise. "Hey, know if there's any scrap titanium I can use?"


II. Subterranean Farms
Tucked away from the main fields and nestled in a smallish nook along the carved out walls, the little garden can easily be overlooked if one isn't paying attention to the strange, spiraling growth of vines dotted with small purple flowers that have started to crawl along the edges of the rock there. That's as far as Donnie's allowed them to grow, always taking care to trim them back before they can get out of hand.

He's rigged his own little light source here, simultaneously taking advantage of where crevices throw shadows across the space to allow for all kinds of plants to be cultivated. At a glance they're definitely more of a decorative sort than to be used for food, but he wouldn't advise eating most of these anyway. There are many flowers and herbs, and even a few types of fungi that grow within the natural rock 'shelves' of the flanking walls.

The turtlekin can be found tending to his beloved plants, removing any dead leaves, carefully watering the flowerbeds or tilling a patch of dirt in preparation for planting something new.


III. The Library
The library's become as much of a retreat as any, and in particular Donnie liked to hide away here because of how much quieter it is compared to other areas of the Vault.

He had come here to do some research but the peacefulness of the area paired with poor sleep has managed to lull him into an unscheduled naptime. Hopefully you didn't need that book he's currently using as a pillow, but be forewarned; he's a drooler.

Comments

[singlemilletgrain]

She breaks her silence to quietly affirm what is so difficult for him to explore.

"It is a harsh lesson -- being taken advantage of."

An enemy with whom you crossed swords was easy. Inflicting harm on that individual, generally speaking, led to a resolution of the problem, and emotions were pure and uncomplicated. Infinitely more complex was the knowledge that you had served as an enemy to your own beliefs and values, compromising the core of what you were. From the start, Shu had sensed a measure of... perhaps too strong a term, but self-hatred buried within Donnie's responses. She remembers the contorted expressions when they had first discussed his past, ones that betrayed more than simple wistfulness or sorrow.

"...You blame yourself."

This is as much a statement as it is a question.

[purplexing]

His expression wavers at that. Shu certainly doesn't beat around the bush. Donnie seeks refuge behind his arms again, his posture tightening up again as though he could compact himself into a ball, away from everything.

There's no verbal response then, but he gives a single nod. There's so much he blames himself for, a litany of wrong decisions just because he'd thought he'd known better.

"...I wanted to fix things. I still want to fix things, but...I don't know if I can."

A foolish, arrogant Donatello had thought he could make things that could help the Empire's people, help everyone. A repentant, desperate Donatello joined the Corsairs once they'd liberated him, wanting to make right what he could when the Empire used his design ideas for weapons. But there's still a sad, lost Donatello that would love nothing more than to return to his family, but he can't and he won't because he doesn't want to pull them into everything that he's gotten caught up in.

[singlemilletgrain]

As he balls himself up and tries to shut himself out from the world, Shu regards his rigid position from the corner of her eye. There is a moment's pause before a soft, barely perceptible touch descends on his shoulder. It steadies there, and through this tactile sensation, Donnie can feel the gentle rhythm of Shu's breathing. Up and down... in and out... loose and tight... It is not too terribly exaggerated, but somehow, it seems as if her own breathing is cycling through him. In this way, it seems she is encouraging him to take deeper, calmer breaths.

It is impossible to face the demons when you are putting up so many walls.

"...If I said there was nothing to fix... would you believe me?"

He will not. She says it anyway.

"Many of us labored to create goods for their military. Is that different from your own situation? You will say you did it of your own accord, but... if you had refused, they would have impelled it regardless. It is no shame to survive."

[purplexing]

Betrayed by a sniffle, Donnie stubbornly remains in his tense little position for a while. He can feel it, Shu's hand, her breathing. It's hard to get a decent breath when you're clamped up like a clam, but he makes a ragged attempt anyway, not entirely sure that he trusts he won't just break down sobbing, but he'll fight that one down as much as he can.

To her question, he says nothing. Of course he doesn't believe her. There's always something to fix. He's prided himself on fixing things, just not...intangible problems, those are so much harder than machinery.

Shu's right; he knows this. After what he's seen of the Empire firsthand, he knows that they would have made him do worse things. He shudders at the thought, hand slipping to rub at where a suppression band had once been fixed.

"...should I be here?"

It's not that he doesn't have an answer for this. But at the same time, he wants an honest opinion, because he's been asking himself that. It used to be easier to answer.

[singlemilletgrain]

She allows a lighthearted chuckle to escape, the barest release of tension.

"You asked me that already. Or a very similar question."

Back then, she had politely said that she could not give an answer. No one could give an answer besides the person he least wanted to hear from. But in this moment, she recognizes that her previous response would be wholly insufficient. Her hand will slip from his shoulder to rest on his hand if he allows.

"But I will say ...I am glad you are here."

It has been over one thousand years since she has attained sapience. In those one thousand years, there have been ten thousand youths. In those ten thousand youths, there have been one hundred thousand doubts, one hundred thousand worries, one hundred thousand anxieties, one hundred thousand fears. And yet to this very day, she remembered each and every one of them.

For Shu was an immortal, but even immortals needed purpose. In some ways, immortals needed purpose far more than those they guided. There was no reason to live this long, no reason to watch everything and everyone she cared for pass into the earth, if she did not. Each and every person she met was engraved upon her heart. And if some of them were alike, and if some of them had the same kinds of problems, and if some of them even said the exact same words...

Why, how much more wonderful it was to know that the human heart was connected in that way across a millennium.

And so she never did find it tedious and she never did grow sick of caring. And here, in a time and place that was -- if she admitted it to herself -- frightening and uncertain even for her and her newfound not-quite-as-immortal state of being, this familiarity of purpose brought her ease. It had comforted her at the dining table. It had driven her through their mission. And it is in her heart now, as she sits beside a broken-hearted turtlekin and holds his hand.

If he presses, she will give an opinion. But in some ways... the answer she gave betrayed her thoughts already. Because the only reason to stay in a place was if you felt kinship there, wasn't it?

[purplexing]

While Donnie doesn't completely loosen himself up, some of that tension relaxes, if just ever so slightly. He still hugs his knees, but he doesn't shy away from the hand that moves to rest over his own. That in itself has become a familiar enough gesture, one that would speak volumes for how comfortable he's gotten with her if she only knew how much he prized his personal space.

He still hasn't really managed to mimic Shu's breathing patterns but he'd been trying his best when they weren't interrupted by a pesky sniffle. The answer Shu gives isn't what he expects, but somehow he feels it's better than a more straight forward one.

He can't just walk away from this, he knows that. But... if at least one person is glad that he's here, then that's enough, isn't it? And there are others, certainly, that he knows he can't just turn his back on, knowing so many of them don't have any feasible means of returning home. Not until they do something about the Empire...

His hand pulls back, just slightly, if only to reposition itself over hers, fingers curling lightly around it, taking comfort in not being alone.

[singlemilletgrain]

They sit comfortably like that for a time.

Shu watches the imperceptible movements of the flowers and the fungi. It brings her peace (surprising nobody) to observe the natural processes of the earth. Even far underground, nature thrived. Subterranean beetles crawled across the petals of the flowers in their pollination activities, causing the blooms to shudder gently. Ants and other barely visible bugs cut little pieces of moss away to bring home to their tunnels, a stream of motion if one unfocused the eyes in just the right way. The world continues on in the same way it always has, repeating the story of one thousand years.

And here, too, she sees the future, echoed in ten thousand youths she had once cared for. A broken heart heals and gains strength. A boy matures into a man. Uncertainty becomes resolution; anxiety becomes conviction.

That image fades. It was a long time hence.

Right now, right here, in this moment, there are two souls who give each other a little of what they need to continue on.

"..."

Shu thoughtfully hums after enough time has passed.

"Also, it is possible I would be dead without you here, so there is also that."

And that would have been unfortunate, because she had only just died and resurrected last month, and she had found it extremely trying, notwithstanding the possibility of not resurrecting here at all.

[purplexing]

Donnie may not be very good at meditation or clearing his thoughts, but this is the closest he's ever managed, just sitting there, finding peace in the moment and the company. For once he doesn't let his thoughts get caught up in any particular focus, the world in front of him a smear of colors, shapes and subtle floral scents.

No, his problems haven't been magically solved and past experiences don't just disappear, but he feels a little lighter than he's been feeling in weeks, and that's enough for him. A different perspective had been offered, and something he'd definitely needed.

The turtlekin lifts his head a bit when Shu finally breaks the silence, glancing over at her. It's kind of a morbid point, true as it is, and it's hard to tell whether that's a sob or a laugh just then as he drops his forehead against his arms, but the groan that follows is quite clear.

"Please don't do that again. -not that you meant to, but..." He sucks in a breath, letting out a heavy sigh.

[singlemilletgrain]

"I will try my utmost."

Her response is lighthearted, in keeping with the atmosphere she is trying to promote. She considers, for a infinitesimally brief moment, confiding some of her own more private feelings about what happened but decides it isn't the right time. The focus should remain on the care of her companion. She will be fine, as she always has been. Her next words are carefully chosen to lead away from the more difficult topics, though they seem casual on the surface. There are only so many emotions one can process in a short period of time.

"To think I would grow so slow in my reflexes. Such is the curse of old age." Shu looks maybe 30 at worst. "If I cook more food for you, will you look after me in my dotage?"

((just a heads-up since we've been doing a bit of boomeranging that I'm heading to bed for the night, thanks for the threading!))

[purplexing]

As much as Donnie would have liked to backtrack away from being the focus- huh, not wanting to have all the attention for a change? What middle-child nonsense is this? -this particular subject isn't exactly a happy alternative. He'd been genuinely terrified that his new friend would have died, and it hadn't been a pleasant feeling to swallow. All the more reason for him to turn it into something he knew how to deal with, or at least he thought he did. And in the end it at least had helped Shu and they'd made their escape. That's...that's what mattered right?

It's what he wants to believe.

He peers over his arm at her again, making a face. "Please, father's like, twice as old as you and complains about his back all the time but he still moves lightning fast somehow." That's to hide his embarrassment at Shu's proposal, whether in jest or not. He knows she can take perfectly good care of herself, or at least was used to doing so. But this isn't her home, things are different for her.

Donnie lifts his head to better look at her.

"I'd have your back with or without the extra promise of food." Because that's just what comrades and friends do, isn't it? And here so far from his own, they're the next closest thing to family, and he wouldn't let anything happen to them so long as he's able to.


((OOC: *Salutes!* Good night! Or morning as you're likely already off to bed!))

[singlemilletgrain]

“Twice as old? He must have excellent self cultivation practices.”

She has a laugh at her own private joke.

“I have never been lightning fast, so I will be relying on you.” The best she usually manages is maybe a brisk trot. She was not the running type. “But be assured I will also keep watch over you. I am usually… more reliable.”

This is as far as she will get towards admitting that something had been terribly off that day. At least now she knows. And she will adjust accordingly. Shu seldom repeated mistakes in her long life and had no intention of ever doing so again in a situation that placed her companions in harm’s way.

“Speaking of.” Shu meets Donnie’s eyes with a faint frown. “I cannot help noticing in our time of acquaintance… Do you have warmer clothes?”

Has Donnie ever considered wearing pants

[purplexing]

"The only thing he cultivates is his stomach," Donnie says flatly. He loves his father very much, which is why he can say such things.

Those certainly aren't empty words that Shu speaks, and they're not phrased to suggest he can't take care of himself. Donnie manages to smile a little at that, nodding. He doesn't doubt that Shu is reliable. He doesn't know how well she usually carries herself in battles but even though there's much he doesn't know about her, he remembers distinctly the expression on her face when Adolfus had almost run her through. It spoke of so much, suggested that things had gone horribly Wrong somehow. He never wants to see that look on her ever again.

"Hm?" he blinks then, unsure what to make of that frown then. "Yes?" Is it because he usually prefers not to wear much? He starts to frown as well. "I have clothes! It gets cold on airships! It's just...sometimes annoying to wear during some missions."

[singlemilletgrain]

“Hm.”

Shu allows a noncommittal hum with a vague note of skepticism. She has seen the kinds of things that are in fashion with the Youths. Donnie just takes the ripped pants style one step further by having only holes and no pants, probably. There may come a terrible sense of foreboding that he is about to be subject to more care than was strictly desired in the form of ugly sweaters and long cotton underwear, though this will have to wait until Shu can figure out how to make ugly sweaters that fit his shell.

She has some ideas.

“Autumn is on the horizon. Take care to dress for the weather so you don’t catch cold.” Squeezing Donnie’s hand lightly, she releases him and stands, carefully balancing the cutting in her palm. “And now I must put this in water lest it wither.”

As she turns away, she calls out seemingly to the open fields before them.

“In a river village inn, old friends chance to meet.
When autumn moon is once more full.
We put aside our doubts and dreams
And huddle together
Wishing the morning bell would never come.”

[purplexing]

Clothing really isn't a problem, and actually easier for him to get in and out of because unlike his brothers, he is of a soft-shelled variety. Which...is another problem in itself entirely because that just means he doesn't really have the extra protection. All the more reason to not shoot down anyone offering to watch his back.

At the very least Donnie wears shorts, he's not an animal despite their father leaving them to run feral most of the time. He has quickly learned to value clothing, particularly in colder situations. As it is he's not entirely sure what to think of Shu's response, althoug there's that slight air of foreboding. He's not used to being mom'd but it seems eye-rolls are an innate response, regardless.

"I know, I know." He's useless when he gets too cold, and that is not a state of Donnie that he'd ever allow if he can help it. Still, there's some reluctance when Shu excuses herself, but he nods, because he wouldn't want his plant cutting to die before it had a chance. "Okay."

He tilts his head, bemused as she calls out. Another poem? It's not as sad as the other one. The turtlekin smiles faintly.

[singlemilletgrain]

She raises a hand in a gesture of farewell before crossing the fields, her figure disappearing through some tall stalks of grain waving in the air currents of the cavern. On reflection, she considers that Donnie does not ever seem to have had a mother figure. She frowns, the faintest expression of concern -- there were dangers to becoming attached to her, despite her fondness for nurturing.

Still... in this strange situation of other worlds and souls thrown together, she does not think it will cause too much harm. And, recalling an infant in a bassinet washed up on a riverbank, it is not as if she has never played a similar role.

"'If I didn't worry so much...' But I do like to worry, Doctor. Everyone deserves to have someone worry for them, no? Ah, it can't be helped."

((Think that's a good place, thanks for the thread!!!))