tushanshu_logs

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michaeljangelo, + those specified in this post
Date: Several hours before and after the above network message
Location: All around Keeliai
Situation: The cadence, the coda, and one less turtle.
Warnings/Rating: Sads
Notes: Prose or actionspam are both fine; also, tags will come from both Michaelangelo and Leonardo

He wakes with a start, to the feeling of something snapping inside like a cord stretched taut and then sliced in two. With a sharp breath, his hand flies to his chest as though expecting to find some awful, bleeding crack in his natural armor. But nothing is there; just him, reeling and half-propped up in the darkness like he's just been struck. Disoriented, Leonardo sits up, rubbing his head to ease the pounding quickly settling into his temples. Weird. He's never had a migraine come on hard and fast enough to wake him up in the middle of the night like this. It's a new experience he could have done without, but at least the night is nice and quiet...

He freezes.

It lasts exactly four seconds: Leonardo sits frozen in place, one hand resting over his eye, because everything he has screeches to a halt and ramps inward, deep, deep into his core, listening. The absolute silence pulls him in, swallows every inch of his Self, until even the pounding heartbeat in his own ears fades into the night.

"No," he breathes, and then loudest of all is the shattering of everything that follows.

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Leo's always had an impeccable sense of time; it's something he's noticed, marked as a footnote, just another one of the many traits they shared in common. But he has no idea what time it is when he sweeps into his remaining cousin's room, maskless, swordless, and blank-faced.

The first thing he does is search out Mike. When he sees the familiar shape in the darkness, the very edges of the lines around his eyes smooth out, but there's still a harried look to them as he puts a hand on the doorway.

"Mike... he's gone."

It's hard not to be startled by Leo's appearance.
No, not his arrival into the room, silent footfalls in the dark became commonplace long before he and his cousin first met, but the look of him as he stands in the doorway to Mike's room. There's something off about Leonardo. No matter the hour or his physical condition older turtle is always sharp, pressed, and folded like a starched dress shirt. But now...there's something rumpled about him. Something that has him slightly off kilter. Slightly askew.

The words sink in.
As words they're really not all that surprising. The three may have lived together, and may have been family, but they had about as much camaraderie as you'd expect two generals and a jester to have when sharing one roof. Leo being gone when you were sure he was there a moment ago is hardly front page news.

But this...this is different, isn't it. The words in context mean something wholly different. Context is everything.

Mike might not have understood the connection that Leonardo had with Leo, but he knew it was there, knew well enough to respect it, and give it a wide berth. It doesn't take a spiritual master to know that when a bond like that is severed by a power strong enough to bridge universes, well...there has to be recoil.

Hence the appearance.

He's already on his feet when he finally gets around to speaking.

"How long?"

Leonardo doesn't respond to that immediately; he's still a bit disoriented, feeling like something vital and weighted inside of him has suddenly dropped out of existence. When he processes the question above the slight ringing in his ears, he clenches his eyes and leans his head into a hand, trying to think.

"I... I'm not sure. A few minutes ago. Maybe more." That hand slowly migrates to his plastron, clenching over the plates as though to hold something there. His focus sounds a little bit elsewhere as he adds, "I can't hear anything."

They could go searching. Like he did for Raph; like they all did for the younger Leo's brothers. But he knows this time, as absolutely as he knew every chord that once echoed into his anima: the Little Ninja is gone.

From the moment Leonardo entered the room Mike has been watching him closely. The more he sees, the more he worries. Mike doesn't need a Donnie around to know that this is the very textbook definition of not good.

"Come. Sit. I'll get you some water."
They're not requests or suggestions, but commands.

"I'm fine," he says automatically, not even looking at Mike. There's no time for that - they should be doing something. It's just this deafening silence; it keeps throwing him off every now and then. He just needs a moment. Then they can figure out what to do next.

Still, he obediently drifts into the room a few seconds later, as though the effects of Mike's demands were merely delayed. Water might be a good idea, anyway.

"I know you are," he says quietly as they pass one another on Leonardo's path towards the chair, and Mike's exit to the hallway.

He'll have to be quick about it. Leo's room wasn't large, but still he has to check for himself, to see for himself, and the last thing he wants to do is leave The Bookends...

He stops in his tracks. No longer The Bookends, are they.
Is he.
Damn that's sobering.
Mike shakes the dissonance from his head and continues on towards Leo's room, hoping to find something in there to prove that Leonardo's intuition is wrong.
That the youngest of the cousins still left was...well, still left.

Mike doesn't turn on the light to the room, he doesn't really need to. As per usual the room is neat as a pin, but ever so much more so than when it was inhabited. The bed isn't made, it's a stack of folded linens on a naked mattress. Any books that were collected are gone, as are any mementos or tchotchkes. In fact, the only thing left to be found is a single peace-bonded sword on a plain display rack.

"damnit," he swears as he carefully lifts the sword and scabbard, and slings them both over one shoulder.

When he returns to his room he presents Leo with the water first, because he knows if he leads with the sword he'll never get his cousin to drink.

Mike pi

Leonardo doesn't notice that it's taking his cousin a bit longer than it should to fetch a simple glass of water. As he sits in his chair, massaging his eyes with a thumb and index finger, he's slowly sorting things out on his own.

Leo is gone. There's a pounding in his head, like a sort of migraine that pulls all of the blood from his insides and concentrates it behind his eyes, leaving the rest of him feeling empty. He knows exactly why. The spiritual connection he'd forged with his younger self had been forcibly and violently severed, and it makes him wonder - did he feel the very moment his little cousin disappeared, or did it simply stretch further and further as Leo Jr. slowly drifted away, straining until it snapped in two?

Whether he knew from the start, or whether his cousin was already far beyond reach by the time it happened, the once-comforting hum in his center is gone. Just gone. It's easy to comprehend, even if the effects of a spiritual severing have left him muddled.

When Mike walks back in with a glass of water, Leo accepts it gratefully. He's still a little shaky, but he no longer has the wan, borderline panicked look to him. He's no longer straining for a tune that isn't there.

"Thanks," he mutters, taking a slow drink.

"Anytime," is the quiet, rote response that comes before Mike takes a sip from his own cup.

Mike would be more relieved with regards to his cousin looking better if he didn't have Leo's sword slung over one shoulder. Briefly Mike considers stowing the weapon for another time, but he can see in his mind's eye how that will play later. It might be better to break his heart now, rather than later when his pride will undoubtedly take over.

Still sipping, he lowers himself to the floor where he sits cross-legged. With all the caution the blade deserves, Mike takes it from his shoulder and lays it across his lap.

He'll leave the acknowledgement of the weapon up to Leonardo.

He lowers the glass for the second time when the dark shape of a sword comes up around Michaelangelo's shoulder, stopping to rest on his lap. At first, Leonardo isn't sure what his cousin is doing with one of his swords. But when he opens his mouth to ask, his eyes skitter along the saya, across the guard, and finally come to rest on the braided dark cloth of the tsuka. In an instant, he knows what it is.

"Musashi's sword."

His own voice sounds distant to him, and he sits up straighter, both hands wrapping around his glass of water as though to steady himself. He feels as though it should hit him harder than this - perhaps he's merely still processing, but he isn't sure how to react.

Something strikes out a single note, deep in his chest. He winces, fingers tightening around his cup. Then, wordlessly, he sets it down on the floor next to him and gestures a request to be given the katana.

Mike nods before taking the sword in both hands and offering it to his cousin. His hands now freed, he picks up his cup and speaks quietly before taking another sip.

"It all that was left in his room. I'm sure he would have wanted you to have it."

The moment the sword rests in his hands, Leonardo feels a raw twist in his chest. It's the pain of a cracking joint, or cool water running over a burn - something deep and painful, but healing.

One hand slides up the saya of the sword, the kojiri resting softly in his other palm. He raises the hilt up above his head, gaze tilted upward to solemnly study it in the darkness. Here in the black night, it's such a contrast to the day not long ago when his other self called him to the turtle's edge, a gleam in his young eyes - but it's a perfect recollection to remember him by. Trust, love for their art, solidarity. The virtues that tied them beyond dimensions.

Far, far down, beyond where his center lies, the silence breaks to a quiet, steady echo; the afterimage of a sound passed on.

He listens for a while. Then he lowers the sword again, grasping it horizontally over his lap. Leonardo's eyes flicker to his cousin, his mouth pulling into a thin, steely line.

"Thank you."

It's Leonardo's smile that inspires Mike to do so as well. Not a broad toothy grin like normal, but a small restrained smirk. Mike nods once before merely replying, "You're more than welcome, it was my pleasure."

Leo's smile widens an inch at Mike's response. His gaze darts back to the sword, and he lets the scabbard slide across his palm, eyes closing in thought. A moment passes; then, with a quiet sigh, they open again and train onto an invisible spot somewhere beyond the floor.

"We have to tell the others."

The smile shows signs of a wince around the edges. Mike hates being the bearer of bad news, and really...is there any worse news than this?

"Yeah, I guess...I guess we really ought to."

Each time they lose someone it reawakens the ache in his chest that first opened when Master Splinter was taken from him and his brothers.

They move fast. This isn't their way, not really - Leonardo can think of only a scant few he would deliver the news to in person of his own volition. But there are people out there his cousin formed bonds with; people he trusted enough to, one day, give their names to Leonardo with a sad, wordless knowledge in his eyes: just in case. These are the ones the Little Ninja wants to say goodbye to, in a world where the last opportunity is hidden in countless unknown days.

They don't deserve hearing it over the network. Secrecy is their first, longest lasting, most sacred rule, but even Leonardo will break protocol for the strangers Leo left behind. In more than one sense, they aren't really strangers at all.

So he and Mike move fast. They have many people to visit... and only the unknown days.

Edited 2014-01-05 09:23 (UTC)

Without wasting a moment, Korra went over to her bedroom and opened the window above her bed. Even though she knew it would take some time for one of them to get there, it felt important to be there the very instant they arrived. Sitting on the edge of the bed and looking to the open window constantly, Korra could only think of Leo; hope that he's okay.

Hurry up and wait, it's all she's able to do and she felt practically useless as she did so.

Taking point means arriving first, and so it's Mike that comes through the window ahead of Leonardo. Normally, when gifted with an open window and an expecting audience, Mike can be counted on to partake in some sort of acrobatic feat as he makes his entrance. Today, however, he climbs through with little more than some eye contact and a nod of acknowledgement.

Yeah, it's that kind of day.

Expecting the usual from Mike, even a quick quip, Korra eyed him almost warily. This was something she’d only seen once, and even when Mikey was suffering from a severe injury; Mike had at least a thing or two to say.

After a moment, she hesitantly asked "Where’s Leo?"

Leonardo slips in behind Mike only moments later, sliding the window closed with one soundless tug downward. He's uncannily similar to Michaelangelo in demeanor as he pulls away from the bed to lean his shell against the wall, arms crossing. He looks at the floor with furrowed eye ridges, and his head tilts slightly away at her question.

Korra is one of those whom he would have told in person from the very start. He knew he might have to make this speech one day - but it doesn't make it any easier.

"I'm sorry," he finally says. Clenching the skin of his arm, he looks up at her, his stony expression breaking into thinly-veiled grief. "He's gone back."

Injured. Sick. Even transformed in a small turtle like Mike had been.

All things Korra was ready to deal with. It’s almost become part of the turtle regimen thanks to her place as their resident healer, something they needed since they never went to any of the clinics.

But Leo, gone.

He had been here longer than she was and had always been there, leaping to help her at a moment’s notice.

She looked from Leonardo to Mike, biting down on both her lips. Hiding her emotions is never easy for Korra and she doesn’t want to show them right now. Even Leonardo wasn’t able to perfectly keep himself to his usual stoic expression.

"…when?" was all she got out on a trembling tone.

This is Leonardo's gig, so Mike has been making himself as unobtrusive as possible. He stands stock still, when he'd otherwise be fluid and mobile. In fact, the only real movement out of him is the quick dart of his eyes to Leonardo at Korra's question, almost as if he's gauging his cousin's reaction before taking the initiative to respond before him.

"A few hours ago," he says quietly.

That soon. They didn't even wait a day or two to get themselves together.

He was just here, in Keeliai, yesterday. She wouldn't see the smaller Leo until-

maybe never?

"I'm so sorry you guys." She got up from the bed and stood for a moment, unable to get the image of him smiling at her out of her head.

Reaching over, Korra went to put her hands on both their shells and pull them in so she could have her arms around them both. Comfort them, and herself.

It surprises Leonardo when she reaches out and just... touches them. Gathers them together and pulls them closer into a triangle of heavy souls. The gentle touch and embrace - before he can stop himself, he's thinking of long, long ago, of the human he thinks of as a sister, April. He thinks of her easy warmth, and of Mikey's and Don's. In the whole year he's been here... he's almost forgotten what it felt like.

To touch and be touched. Comfort, easy, honest, given without fear of weakness. Openness is not the way, no one ever told him but himself, and yet every time it happens, he finds that he can't pull away.

With a slow, deep exhale that shakes a bit at the end, he gives it all up. Leans into their three-person embrace and lets himself miss everything. April. His brothers. Home. The Little Ninja.

Just for now, for as long as this one simple gesture lasts, he'll allow himself to fiercely miss it all.

It's not the hug from Korra that surprises him, it's been Mike's experience that humans are a touchy-feely lot. No it's Leonardo's reaction that catches him off guard. Leonardo who mostly hugs to humor, and not out of need for an emotional outlet.

And yet...here he is. In the collective embrace of both Korra and his cousin. This time though, it's not Leonardo holding back...but him.

Oh his arms go around them, and it's a perfectly serviceable hug, but for him there's no real emotional backing to it. It's a numb exercise in fulfilling expectation, rather than a heartfelt expression of emotion.

Mike is too rattled by the loss of Leo and the breakdown of Leonardo to really give himself over to anything at the moment. And all the while, in his mind, thoughts play on repeat.

This is wrong.
This isn't fair.
I'm going to be here alone.

Emotional support is a constant for Korra and she’s usually giving it to herself if not to others. Right now, it’s both. Having her arms around them, she lowers her head. They don’t need to see each other’s pain at Leo’s sudden leaving, just feel that they are there for each other.

She has seen them stick together through and thick, the worst fights; whether against each other or someone else. Afterwards, Korra lets her hands slowly fall back to her sides. They were down to two, and she didn’t even want to think of them having to deal with a nearly empty suite.

But she did.

"Do you need me to stay for a few days." Or weeks, Korra knew it would take a while to adjust to not having Leo here. It would for her, that she knew.

Just a few moments. He's fitting in an entire year into just a few moments, and for those mere seconds everything is just so wildly raw that it feels like he's floating somewhere above his own mind. Only the strong, warm arms around his shell, one human and one turtle, tether him to the ground.

But moments are only moments. As they pass, the walls build themselves again, shoving back everything far, far away. He's had his reprieve. It'll have to do. As their hands all slowly drop from their embrace, Leo straightens again, his face settling back into hard, pressed lines. Perhaps he'll feel ashamed for losing his composure later, but for now, he takes this for what it was: comfort, given and taken both.

And yet Korra's offer catches him off-guard once more. She again reminds him of April; but instead of homesickness, this time's comparison evokes a powerful fondness. Caring and steadfast in difficult times, willing to give herself to them... not for the first time, Leonardo is proud of his younger counterpart for the people he forged bonds with. Korra is more than an ally - she's practically family.

"You don't have to do that," he says, his mouth pulling into a small smile. He's not exactly denying the offer - but just as April had her own life that was too often monopolized by them, surely Korra has things to do other than live in a suite with a couple of mopey turtles.

Edited 2014-01-08 08:43 (UTC)

Mike takes a step back as well, towards a nearby wall that looks like it could use some additional shoring up. There are jokes there to be made, the kind that are best described as low-hanging fruit, but he doesn't reach for them. Heck he doesn't even look at them. Instead he just quietly adds.

"You're always welcome, anytime."

Every time Leonardo talks, it draws Korra’s eye to him. That is Leo, a different one of course, but it’s still him somehow. More tempered, stronger qualities that the younger one excelled at. Briefly, Korra wondered if maybe that hug reached Leo through him.

After all, she had a connection with Aang since they shared the same soul.

Mike wasn’t taking this nearly as well as Korra was hoping he would. To be fair, she was doing something similar and was just trying to keep them all from letting it hit them too hard. Never had she heard say anything in that manner before.

"Then a couple of days isn’t going to hurt anyone." Said as nonchalantly as she could manage while she folded her arms. Leo had been trying to help with anything and everything that ever came her way, and he wasn’t alone in doing so. She knew that.

Leonardo's mouth tightens into a straight line, his head turning slightly to the side. He's never sure how to handle moments like this; the giving nature of others always catches him by surprise, as often as he seems to underestimate it. But... it would be nice to have someone around. He won't deny it.

"In that case..." He looks back at her with a nod, his smile deepening just an inch. "We would be glad to have you."

Then, when he glances towards Michaelangelo, his expression softens just a bit further. Leo might be having a hard time, but it's no excuse for him to force the brunt of emotional weight onto Mike's shoulders. His cousin has been steadfast from the moment Leo stumbled into his room, disoriented and half-panicked, and never once complained himself. Quietly, Leo slides away from his own wall to join Mike, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing softly. "Right?"

Having received the message, Toph camps out, waiting for Leo. Aang (at least she thinks) is upstairs in bed. Momo has apparently opted to keep her company, though, settling into her lap and folding his long ears across his back.

Secretly Toph likes this. It's nice to have something soft and warm that kind of-sort of likes you on your lap. Nice to be endowed with that much trust . . . and frankly, it's soothing. Absently she rubs her thumb along one of the trailing ears, her own pricked to listen for Leo's arrival.

Toph, most definitely, is someone Leo had planned to tell from the very start. The younger Leonardo had practically been her second sifu - the thought reminds him that he'll have to restructure her training regimen now that the Little Ninja is no longer around to spar with her, or even to sit down with Leonardo and talk about her progression. This is an ache both of them will feel for weeks to come.

It also feels an awful lot like loneliness.

He lands at Toph's window without a sound, sliding it open to signal his arrival. Routine, minus one. As he climbs down, his eyes fall on the small animal nestled in her lap, and Leonardo crouches next to Toph. He slowly reaches a hand forward to try and scratch behind one of Momo's long, folded ears.

He tries to speak, but now he's thinking of Mikey and his cat, Klunk, and it tightens his throat. Leo closes his eyes and lets himself sink into the quietness of the room.

"Hey," he whispers weakly, if only because he feels like he has to say something.

"Hey." Toph's voice is measured. Even though seismic sense made her aware of him from the moment he landed on the house and opened the window, she let him come as he would. There's something definitely off about him . . . Footsteps, breath, and heart rate are different . . . kind of like Katara crouched with Aang after Azula seared into his spine and cut his connection from the world. There's weight there.

"Did you get hurt?" Her voice is sharper now, now that she has more information. It promises retribution. Never mind the collected veneer now; he's here, she has more information, and it's worse now more than ever. "Or did he get hurt?"

And if either of them did get hurt, what the heck are they doing here? They've both got more common sense than that.

There has to be a better explanation, but Toph isn't sure what.

"No," he says, shaking his head merely out of habit. "We're fine."

Momo's ears are quite a bit larger than Klunk's, but he's small and fuzzy and warm, and he remembers liking that back home. Everyone submitted to being the family cat's pillow eventually, and - perhaps with the exception of Raph - they all enjoyed it to an extent.

'We're fine'. He'd said it without thinking, as reflexive a response as it's ever been, and he wonders how true it really is. Leonardo certainly will be - his spirit is a little damaged, in quite the literal sense, but it will heal in time. His soul's twin... he has no idea. He's young, and inexperienced, and off to face a world that will do everything it can to crush him under the weight of its shadows.

But Leonardo has faith in the Little Ninja and his brothers. And in all his years, he's learned that faith is sometimes better.

Above it all, the indignation in her tone pulls something close to a smile out of him. It only makes this harder to say... but there's a simplistic comfort to be taken in it as well. When he finally speaks, his voice is as gentle as he can make it; he pulls his hand away from Momo, eyes tipping upward to meet her sightless gaze.

"Leo's gone home."

Edited (lmao self that's not klunk) 2014-01-12 05:35 (UTC)

It's a good thing Momo is remarkably sleepy at this point, because he'd otherwise probably be up and chattering all over at the stranger. As it is, he just opens his eyes and sniffs at the hand before settling back in.

Toph is not nearly so relaxed.

"--Oh."

The startlement is visible on Toph's face, her eyes widening as her head pulls back a bit. For a long moment it's just this syllable, though -- this one quiet syllable, soft as though it's been tugged from her unwittingly.

". . . When?"

It seems like the only appropriate question, the only one she can think to ask next. There are no edges in her voice any more; the word is rounded, soft.

One syllable is all it takes to deepen the lines around Leonardo's eyes. Her expression seems surprised, almost as though unable to process this strange-sounding information that still sounds foreign to even his ears. Leo's gone home. When has he ever been gone? Whenever they needed him, he was there. The very words together seem to form an oxymoron.

It's the softness in her voice that prompts him to reach forward again; this time not to touch Momo, but to rest a light palm on her knee. Perhaps he wouldn't, in most circumstances - physical touch is a precious commodity. But he thinks that maybe in a world like hers, in a time like this, an anchor to those who are still here may be even more precious. To the both of them.

"Early this morning." His words, too, lack any bite or grief; they're quiet, rolling like water over a bed of stones. "I'm sorry."

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closed

night; Mike

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next morning-evening; Turtle CR

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