[Open]

[i_speak_softly]

Characters: Donatello and OPEN
Date: April 27, and some number of following days, depending how this goes
Location: All over the city, but starting at ME-3B and hopefully ending at WA-3B
Situation: Leo ordered Don to get off the networks, so the brainy Turtle sets out to find his brother the old-fashioned way.
Warnings/Rating: Probably nothing exciting.

It takes Don the rest of the night to pick over the components of his console, put them back together again, and boot the machine in his best approximation of safe mode. This still doesn't solve any of the issues - unsurprising, since Mike Weston had told him the problem was in the network - and he checks his messages as carefully as possible.

Leo has left him a cryptic instruction. Not daring to reply, he memorizes it, then shuts down the machine and hits the street.

Where the water meets the steel. A shipyard? Don heads toward the edge of the city, where one is likely to be, but inquiries direct him westward towards the Water Sector.

As he walks, Don wonders if the sector border is what Leo meant. But the border is a long one - it took Don an hour to get across the city by car, and he can tell he hadn't crossed nearly all of it - and he doesn't know which side of the line his brother is on.

Or wait! What if Leo meant a weapons forge? Submerging a steel blade in water is a critical step in the sword-making process, and that's just the kind of thing Leo would think of when giving coded orders on short notice. But a place like that would most likely be in the Fire Sector, and that's really a long way… Maybe he can hitch a ride?

Comments

[michaeljangelo]

Mike keeps to the shadows, not because he feels as though he's in any particular danger, but because that's far more likely to be the place to find this ever elusive, wayward Donatello he's heard so much about.

He should have covered far more ground by now, but he has this cough that he just can't shake. Ever since the bombing at the market in the Water Sector. It...it's a thing. So chances are more than good that no matter how good Mike is at concealing himself into the dark margins of the city, the hacking cough is going to give away his position.

Worst.
Ninja.
Ever.

[i_speak_softly]

Don has encountered a lot of different kinds of people on his journey across the city - or, it might be more accurate to say he encountered a lot of the same kind of people, wearing different forms. But it wasn't so much their shapes he paid attention to, as their behavior.

Some he approaches, talks to, and thinks he would like to see again. Others make him glad he's in a big city, where unpleasant individuals are easily avoided.

And then there are those he doesn't go near at all. The unseen person who sounds like Patient Zero for a tuberculosis outbreak definitely gets a wide berth. Don feels a little bad about that, but it's not like he has any medical supplies on him.

[michaeljangelo]

It's during a particularly bad coughing fit, one where Mike nearly loses his footing and comes close to falling from the side of the building he precariously hangs from, where he spots Donatello.

Not in the shadows.
Not running on a rooftop.
Just...walking through the city like it ain't no thing.

Well no wonder no one's been able to find him! He's "hiding" in plain sight!

Mike drops from his position, landing with a soft thud on alley floor.

"Donatello," he calls from the shadow.

[i_speak_softly]

Don has been searching for his family for days, and while he's hardly about to give up, he is feeling a little discouraged. When someone calls his name, he turns eagerly. He hadn't told anyone here his name, so it must be someone he knows.

"Leo?!"

- No wait crud. He had broadcast his name all over the network for anyone to hear. And that voice really didn't sound like Leo. Or either of his other brothers, for that matter.

He takes a step backwards, barely noticing how weird it is to be retreating from a dark alley towards a busy street.

[michaeljangelo]

"...not quite," the voice replies with an audible smirk. "Holy hippo spit, we've been looking all over for you!"

Mike moves into a less shadowed area of the alley, one that easily reveals him to be a mutant turtle, but not one of Donnie's brothers.

"Hi, I'm Mike. We...well, lemme 'splain something to you, Lucy."

[i_speak_softly]

"Hi, I'm Mike."

Well, so was the guy on the network a few nights ago. This new person is clearly not Don's Mike... and yet, just as obviously, he's another mutant turtle.

Don looks slowly to one side and then the other, checking what reality he's in, scrambling for an explanation. There can't be other mutant turtles. But here one is.

Okay. Alternate explanation number one: He is in a city populated by shapeshifters, and one has decided to play a joke on him.

He doesn't draw his bo, but he does point a warning finger.

"If you're a kedan, I don't think this is very funny."

[michaeljangelo]

Yeah, he knows those feelings, Don. He knows them all too well, which is why Mike keeps his hands where Donatello can see them.

He smirks shamelessly.
"I'm insulted! The kedan wish they were as pretty as me. I say, Good Day Sir. I say good day."

[i_speak_softly]

It must be pointed out that this turtle bears a creepy, Bizarro World resemblance to the Michelangelo Don knows - and that goes a long way towards convincing him that this is a real mutant turtle... though exactly which one, he still has no idea.

"Who are you?"

[michaeljangelo]

"If I said I was Michaelangelo from a dimension just to the left of yours, would you believe me?"

metal sector; if this doesn't work, just kick at me on plurk :|b

[sticksaround]

ME-3B just so happens to be right in Casey's neighborhood, actually, since he got shuffled off to ME-3A on his own arrival. It's been a few weeks since then. Pardoning the network crash, the major explosions, and the general feelings of anxiety and uncertainty that have been hovering over the city at large recently, things could probably be a lot worse. That's what he's been telling himself anyway.

Losing the network made keeping track of any wayward ninja turtles a lot tougher to manage, but it stands to reason that if he somehow hasn't gotten his ass handed to him, then the guys who've been trained as warriors their entire lives can probably manage okay without him hovering around. Casey's been doing a little more taking to the streets instead: it's a pastime he was born to indulge in, especially during troubled circumstances. It's no hockey mask and stupid decisions in New York material, but getting familiarized with his new turf and trying to find out more about what's happening in terms he can relate to is almost as good.

That said, he also has no qualms pushing his plans back a little on a moment's notice. Which is lucky for him, really, because he just spotted a bipedal turtle in a purple mask on the other side of the street. Like it's the most casual situation in the world. Definitely not one of the guys from home- little too much bulk, different shape, different coloring- but still undoubtedly one of the guys. Leave it to a Donnie to do the quiet, understated appearance thing without the 'ninja, vanish.' For lack of a better term.

Casey, being true to the base roots of all Casey Joneses, decides to just wave an arm and yell while he's crowd-dodging his way over.

"Yo, Donatello! Wait up!"

... well, the dude's already out in the streets. Casey doesn't see why he should try to be stealthy about it.

[i_speak_softly]

It's early in May, and as Don had promised his brothers and cousin, he's restoring their sole bathroom to its primary purpose by hauling the components of his makeshift lab back to his suite in the Metal Sector.

He's feeling more grounded since settling in with his family, and in a city like this stealth seems mostly pointless, so he's just walking down the street with a big box full of stuff. It's not especially heavy, but it's bulky, and makes it hard to see who's calling his name. He turns in awkward circles, craning his neck to see over the corner of the box. Who's there?

[sticksaround]

Oh, good, he got him. Everything went better than expected. He feels a little guilty once he really registers the fact that Don's kind of loaded up with a box at the moment, but the guilt is not even close to enough to belay his excitement. Casey ducks around another couple of people and very politely elbows past the last few between his position and Donatello's position.

No courtesy for a guy on his way to a possibly-awkward, technically-not-a reunion, honestly.

"Man, I'll tell ya, a turtle in purple is a real sight for sore eyes!" And he's... Raph's bro, if the height and general shape are anything to go by. "Sorry, guess I could've picked a better time to spot you out here. Just, uh. Figured you might need help or somethin'. And I could get the introduction thing outta the way while I was at it."

Or... something like that. Reflecting on it, there was a real lack of strategy to his past two minutes of life.

[i_speak_softly]

It wasn't a very successful introduction, either, if that's what Casey was aiming for. Don still has no idea who this guy is.

He shifts the box and blinks at this stranger. Clearly not another cousin. Someone else he should know?

"Ah... hi?"

Being greeted by people he doesn't know is way outside Don's ninja comfort zone. These things just aren't supposed to happen.

[sticksaround]

It... it takes him a couple of seconds to realize he said 'introduction,' but without adding an actual introduction to it. Once he hits that realization, though, he grimaces. Way to be on your game with the other-universe turtles, Jones, sheesh.

"Oh, right! Sorry, bro. I'm Casey- Casey Jones. I, uh. I know the version of you and your bros back home. And I met two of the turtles who are stuck here. Who hopefully you already figured out about through ninja shenanigans or whatever?"

Unless he's putting together some kind of high tech fortress of solitude because he doesn't know about them yet. As far as Casey knows, that's fully possible. And Metal would be the part of the city to put that together in.

[i_speak_softly]

There's a weird sensation of something sliding into focus, and suddenly all the things about this man that resemble the Casey Don knows become glaringly obvious.

"Mike's Casey?" No. Wait. He was told something about this. "You're a third Casey."

Meaning there's a third Donatello. Or maybe a fourth, if he's understanding his brothers' stories correctly. This just keeps getting weirder...

The question about who he knows - and implicitly, where he's living - he avoids for now.

[sticksaround]

Wow, so there is definitely another Casey Jones out there in the multiverse. Not that he doubted the other Raph's word or anything. It's just weird getting it from a second official source. He wonders what his situation's like over there.

Probably not the best time to be asking, though. Casey scratches the back of his head.

"Maybe just a second Casey. Mike doesn't really remember havin' one around. I guess we've kinda got a hodge-podge thing happening out here, huh?"

[i_speak_softly]

"Sorry. I mean a Casey from a third world." Don juggles the box so he can offer a hand. "I'm Donatello, but I guess you already knew that."

[duelkatana]

It's about four hours into his imposed time limit of six. There's nothing Leo would love more than to be out there looking for his brother, but someone has to keep an eye on the network - as much of a stuttering, ruined piece of junk it is - and watch for any transmissions that might be geared towards them.

By the time they'd been two hours in, the intermittent bursts of sound were grating enough on his headache to take advantage of the mute function. The jittering lights and flashes of bright static... there's not much to be done for those, but he dutifully watches, scanning the network as best as he can, tracking the pockets of sound and text that occasionally filter through the nonsese. Honestly, he'd rather be flat on his shell again.

Four hours is double that, and Leo finds that he can't take it anymore - he needs a break, just for a moment. Just two minutes. He pushes himself away from the console and rubs a hand over his eyes, biting back a groan as he stands and leans one hand on the back of his chair.

If they don't find Don soon, he's not sure how much longer he can stand sitting there in front of a screen. How can his brother tolerate such a sedentary task as tech support day in and day out?

[michaeljangelo]

One of the last few remaining security features installed by Mike when he first arrived is a set of improvised sleigh-style bells that hang from the latch on the front door. They're less to let the people inside know that you've opened the front door, and more to let you know that you've just alerted everyone within earshot that you're there.

They also have the added benefit of reminding Mike of Christmas, one of his favorite holidays, but that's neither here nor there.

What's important is that they're the first hint that Leo gets that Mike has returned home successful. Only when he has something to prove does he walk through the front door, bold as brass.

"...it's like I told Raph," he says finishing yet another story. "I only used coltrops because I couldn't find any Legos."

[i_speak_softly]

"Naturally," Don says faintly, and then he gets to turn his attention from Mike's bizarre-even-for-a-Turtle stories to this new apartment. It's broadly similar to the one in the Metal Sector, though somewhat lacking in the technology department. That's more than made up for by the exercise equipment, the casually-scattered small weaponry, the climate settings, and the chaotic housekeeping, all of which combine to tell him his brothers live here.

By now he's been filled in - if in a confused, haphazard way - on exactly which brothers those are. So although it pains him to do so, as he moves inside he calls only two names:

"Leo? Raph?"

[duelkatana]

"Leo? Raph?"

He freezes, his knuckles gripping the chair so hard they turn pale. That voice. If there'd been any doubt in his mind before that it was his brother's (and there hadn't been much), it's swept away in a tide of dizzying joy at those two simple words.

Leo sharply turns and half-stumbles towards the entrance just in time to see his cousin and brother standing in the living room. His eyes fix on his brother, looking him up and down - cataloging every detail that's been burned into his memory through nineteen years of knowing his brother. Nineteen, minus one. After so many years of living with his brother, how can one year apart feel like a lifetime?

"Donnie," he says, his voice cracking in relief. He moves forward to grab Don's arms, grinning tiredly. "It's good to see you, bro."

[michaeljangelo]

Mike closes the door behind them, locking it with a quiet click. From several feet away he watches the reunion with a mixture of powerful emotions rumbling inside his chest. He's proud that he can be the one to reunite the brothers, happy at their reunion, and yet still...sad and disappointed for himself.

Every day he grows closer to these cousins of his, which only serves to make it that much harder when the actual distance between them shines through like a spotlight on a moonless night.

"Always remember the Michaelangelo Delivery guarantee: 6 hours or less, or your next brother is free," he quips with lop-sided smirk.

[i_speak_softly]

Don gives Leo a good look too. During his conversation with Mike, he had begun to comprehend the true nature of the time anomaly he was told about when he arrived. Leo and Raph are a year older. The fight with the wooden soldiers was a year ago, for them. And since then they've been leading other lives, in another world, that he knows little about. That didn't include him.

"It's good to see you too," Don says, because it really is. A few days is too long to be separated from his family; an entire year is beyond imagining. "But you look awful."

And because Mike's comment didn't sound like a random number, he adds, "Six hours?"

[duelkatana]

A year hasn't changed Leonardo overly much, physically - he's a fraction taller, with a handful of new scars (most of them burns, of all things) dotting his arms and sides, but he's still quite the same as Don remembers him. The biggest change, in fact, is located not on his person, but the extension thereof: rather than the two blue-wrapped katana peeking up over his shell, there's only one, while the second has been replaced by a different sword with a brown braid.

At Don's words, Leo gives a laugh that tapers off into a few throaty coughs he turns his head away for. He gives his brother's arm a squeeze before letting go and backing up a few steps. As glad as he is to see Don again, he still isn't sure how contagious they all are, if at all... and Don getting sick again would be the very last thing they wanted.

"Mike and Raph have been looking for you while I held down the fort," he informs with a dash of his eyes towards his cousin. He only hopes that even half of the gratitude he feels towards Michaelangelo is reflected in his gaze. "I set a time limit so Raph wouldn't be running around out there all day."

[michaeljangelo]

Mike's smile softens for a moment in acknowledgement of Leo's gratitude.

"All of which is Leo-ese for: The knuckleheads were driving me crazy, so I sent them out to run around until someone turned the streetlights off," he drawls goodnaturedly.

Mike moves in the direction of the kitchen.

"I'm going to put some water on, and then I should probably go and find Raph, so he's not, you know...still running."