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vivalaI. 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.
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.
no subject
Date: 2024-08-26 06:04 pm (UTC)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
no subject
Date: 2024-08-26 06:22 pm (UTC)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."
no subject
Date: 2024-08-26 08:43 pm (UTC)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.”
no subject
Date: 2024-08-26 10:38 pm (UTC)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.
no subject
Date: 2024-08-27 01:57 pm (UTC)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!!!))