[Open]

[meanandgreen]

Characters: Raphael and others
Date: Threads backdated from 3/14 through the month of April
Location: Wood Sector (primarily the dojo), and lots of sulking around the Water Sector
Situation: Raph's trying to take his mind off things after this little fiasco.
Warnings/Rating: Probably

((This post serves as two months' worth of catch-all. Feel free to use the post as a lead-in or come up with your own scenario. Or you can hit me up at willowslament for plotting. I'm open to pretty much anything.))


It's been a bad week. A bad couple months if Raph really thought about it. And he did. Way too much. Replaying the fight with Leo, the thing with Monet over and over in his mind, his memories soaked with red-spattered fury.

It can drive a guy crazy; thinking like that. Letting it play over in your mind until it twists itself into something that makes you ache inside. Makes you feel sick. Makes your thoughts race at night and dark things flash through your dreams.

Raphael hates this. He hates fighting with Leo, with any of his brothers, but he definitely hates fighting over this same old crap more than anything.

But now Leo's taken a page out of his book and disappears completely. Leaves only traces of himself behind--food missing from the pantry, a window left ajar. His brother's turned into a ghost. Made it really freakin clear he has no interest in changing his mind.

He doesn't listen. He never listens. No one ever understands...

So Raph stays home; too afraid to venture out to his usual rooftop haunts, even to the Fire Sector, where you'd think the lure of the fight ring would be irresistible. But the possibility of running into Leo makes him too sick with bitter anger to swing it.

Without a tangible one, Mike becomes his verbal punching bag. He lashes out for no reason over the stupidest things. He breaks things... plates, the bathroom sink, the front door...

His anger at Leo has become generalized. More mad at the world than anything specific. Because it's easier than having to deal with any kind of real feelings. It just is.

Mike gets tired of it after a while, grapples to find something to distract him. He drags him to the dojo one day. He teaches kids there, and he's good with them. Of course he's good with them.

The dojo brings Raph a type of peace he wasn't expecting. A shadow of home and belonging that soothes some of the rawness inside. So he comes back. Sometimes with Mike, sometimes on his own to use the space to practice sai kata or to spar with whoever's willing.

And when he finds Korra there, he almost never wants to leave.

Comments

[michaeljangelo]

Mike's classes at the dojo are less like traditional instruction, and more like hands on training in Parkour...if something like that existed in 1986. Really, what they tend to look like the most is Agility Training for Small Children.

Complete with positive reinforcement treats.
This week it's snickerdoodles.

Cookies are not the only thing Mike has brought with him to class today, he's also brought the children's favorite grumpy-puss: his cousin Raph.
The kids love him, of course the kids love him. What's not to love about the guy who goes out of his way to make it known that he doesn't want you around...but still sets up the obstacle course anyways.

He's just a lovable curmudgeon that way, and Mike does his best to hide his stupid I told you so grin until Raph's not looking.

[meanandgreen]

Raph's not looking because he's busy herding kids around, shooing them away from parts of the course they're not supposed to climb on or kick or whatever. They're drawn to him like magnets, but they're fragile little things, and part of him's terrified he's gonna say or do something to break them. So he wanders around with a flock at his heels, coaxing some of the bolder few off this or that when they try too hard to show off for him.

He's rough with them, but in that way that kids like. He grabs a particularly mischievous one and tucks her, giggling uncontrollably, under his arm as he stomps around the room with a cookie sticking out of his mouth, trying to set up stuff only for another kid to come knock it down again. They don't really listen to him, just kind of run around wild acting up so he can come manhandle them for one reason or another, saying things like, "I know, I don't like it either. But you're really not gonna like it when you fall and break your neck." or "Fine, do it backwards. Just don't run over anybody."

Finally, when he gets everything set up, and the kids are just rambling over the course at will, he stomps back over to Mike and sits heavily on the floor where (he thinks) it's safe, chomping moodily on a second pilfered cookie. Yeah, he knows they're for the kids, but far as he's concerned, he earned it.

"I hate kids," he grumbles in a way that's not entirely convincing.

[michaeljangelo]

"It shows," he says far too soberly to be taken for serious. Mike gives the kids another minute or two to rough house before he whistles so loud you'd almost expect a NYC Yellow Cab to burst through the wall.

The children who aren't in the middle of something come to a stand still, and those that are move to a safe not-in-the-middle position. They all turn to look at him.

"Good. Okay before we start can we all thank Sensei Raphael for helping today?"

A chorus of spoken/shouted thanks come pouring out of the children at varying volumes and with various timing.

[meanandgreen]

All Mike gets is a glare for his trouble. But it's harmless, especially with his mouth still full of cookie.

Raph definitely didn't expect the kids to like him right off the bat. Especially not after his first run-in with a kid started with him getting punched in the face repeatedly. But these kids are different. Not completely, but different. Maybe because they're happy kids.

With the chorus of thanks, Raph only waves in that gruff, dismissive way. Now it's Mike's turn to entertain them. He's taking a break.

[michaeljangelo]

Just wait until they get to the more structured part of the lesson. The part where it's only okay to punch and kick the teachers. Maybe Mike should mention that to Raph.

...

Nahhhh.

"All right. Now that the room is set up, find your line in three....two....one."

When Mike reaches one the kids scatter into organized chaos, and then...against all odds, form into a perfect line. They're almost perfectly still if one ignores the fact that they're all trembling with anticipation to get moving again.

"Hajime" Mike commands with more authority than a Michaelangelo out to. Any Michaelangelo.

And then they're off, running through the obstacle course in the order previously discussed, and not the crazy-sauce devil-may-care way they were when Raph was still setting it up. The room moves as if it's a well oiled machine. They're even helping each other through obstacles.

Mike crouches down next to where Raph is seated on the floor.

"I have no idea how Splinter did this day in and out for years on his own. No. Idea."

[meanandgreen]

"Don't ask me," he drawls, finishing off the last of his cookie. "At least they listen to you."

Raph can remember how lessons used to go. He and Mikey goofing off. Mikey making fun of him then him getting mad. Leo showing off and him getting mad. Him getting in trouble for getting mad... Then somewhere down the line there was the 50/50 chance Donny started crying whenever they tried something new.

It's no wonder they got caned so many times. Just remembering some of the stuff they used to do makes his butt sore. And his head. Oh, his head.

[michaeljangelo]

"The trick is in the bribery," he says with a tired smile. "The best part about this is that since its all voluntary? I just tell the trouble makers to go home. No need for backflips or walking stick smacks."

[alphatar]

When the other teachers had finished their lessons and the dojo was nearly empty was the time Korra usually arrived to get her martial arts practice done. Tossing her jacket in the office, she went about to set up one of the wooden dummies, punching bag, and one of the largest mats.

It was when she was filling up a water bottle that she noticed the dojo wasn’t entirely empty.

"A little early today." She grinned as she screwed the cap onto the bottle, a thin layer of frost forming at the top of the water inside. "You caught me before I started."

[meanandgreen]

Coming early, Raph's discovered, is the best time to show at the dojo. After the teachers and students are gone, when he finds himself mostly alone and everything is quiet, he can sort out some of the chattering in his own head. Work through a few katas he knows like the back of his hand and just think. Focus. Push through everything with movement, until he's too tired to be angry anymore.

After this last fight with Leo, he's tried not to dwell on things. Instead his obsession has turn to something else. That match in the fighting ring. Losing miserably (to a girl, no less). Korra.

He has to beat her. He has to get better, stronger. More focused. And he has to beat her. So he shows up to her dojo a couple times a week, sniffing around, ribbing her about a rematch. And then he asks her to spar.

Soon, a couple times a week turns into every day, and every time he catches her, he has to ask. He has to fight her again and again.

Being a ninja has its advantages. As he moves through the kata, he remains completely silent. No kiai. It's not how he was taught. Instead, everything is deathly quiet. Perfectly precise. The steel tines of his sai glint with every flick of the wrist, every change of the grip, every catch of an imaginary sword, every lethal stab through a major organ.

Korra doesn't know he's there, but he hears her. Even if she wasn't so noisy setting up, he could feel it in the shift of the air.

When she notices him, he finishes his last move; a quick switch of the grip from a bone crushing one-two strike with the pommels of his weapons to the tines flicking outward to catch the invisible opponent's weapon. A sharp twist to disarm or break the wrist that holds it. Then stops, tucking them both back in his belt, his movement as casual as a shrug.

"Yeah," he says, padding over, tilting his head to the side to crack his neck.

"Guess I wanted to get a head start on beatin' your butt to the ground," he says with a teasing smile. It's funny, because he always seems to lose these things more than he wins them. "You up for a spar?"

But not with the sai. Never with the sai. The real challenge here is hand-to-hand combat, and they both know it.

[alphatar]

Korra's grin grew to a smile and a chuckle got out of her before she straightened up, tilting the water bottle idly after folding her arms. A consistent sparring partner wasn't something she's used to having, but Raphael's persistence gave her the best method of practice.

Wooden dummies, katas, and punching bags could only do so much.

That question, the one he asked every time he was in the dojo, was practically a greeting in addition to a challenge. "If you think you can win this one, sure. Otherwise, I've got about an hour before I start my shift at the Brazen Turtle."

Emphasis on the tavern's name while giving Raphael a slightly chiding look.

[meanandgreen]

"I can win."

And they've got an hour. Plenty of time. He stalks over to the mats she just put down and waits for her to get ready, cracking his knuckles. Something dark is passing over his expression, blackening by the second.

He can win. He has to win.

[alphatar]

When he goes to the mat, Korra went to empty her pockets onto the office table. Juulan, keys, and she almost put the power ring there too; but she had to keep that with her at all times.

Changing into her workout clothes didn't feel right for a spar, so she kicked off her boots instead.

When she came back out, she set the water on the floor near the mat.

"Any bets you want to make?" He was focused and she was curious, but she'd ask rather first than offer her thoughts. Those could follow afterwards.

[meanandgreen]

"I dunno," he rumbles, swinging his arms to loosen his shoulders. It's not like he's got much money to wager, and that's no fun anyway. "Same as last time. Loser owes the winner a bowl of noodles."

Because betting food for fights is a Hamato family tradition. Noodles ain't exactly pizza, but they make due. And let's not forget how many bowls of noodles Raph owes her already.

But this isn't about the bets. For Raph, it's all about the winning.

[duelkatana]

This is the lowest they've been. Leonardo and his brother have lived as shadows their whole lives; here in this world, they darken the same corridors without ever touching, barely visible even to each other as they stretch towards the moonlight. But in these last few weeks, complete darkness has swept through and made them no longer shadows, but phantoms. Leaving nothing more than cold, intangible traces of themselves for one another - the message that they're alive, but nothing else. And even then, from obligation alone.

Leonardo is sick of it. He misses his brother, and this festering body of guilt standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him wherever he rests... it's not the same. Not like it would have him believe.

He hates it, but he has no other choice than to pass his brother in the darkness, because... it's not that simple. It never is. Leonardo and Raphael have a manual of their own that they both seemed to have burned to ashes a long time ago.

But when Monet contacts him a second time and gives him another mission - this one far bigger than the last - he can't turn it down. He just can't. Not after all they've been through together, and not when he manages to wrap his head around how monumental a task Monet is entrusting to him. Yet a cold feeling pits in his stomach when he realizes that he has to tell Raph. The first time he tried to slip away from his brother, a severe storm tore them apart. As foolish as he may be, he will not make that same mistake again.

Leo doesn't know how to break it to him; has no idea how to catch a ghost after salting the hallways, drawing hundreds of circles from him to his brother. So he just goes looking. He knows Raphael still, even now. They've lived together alone for a year now, give or take, and he knows where his brother goes when he needs to think. (And he's sure that they've both done a lot of thinking, lately.)

Today, Leonardo spends his time meditating in the cool sand on the bank of a canal. When sunset arrives, he pulls himself up, treks back through the Water Sector, and climbs the side of their shared suite until he reaches the rooftop. His brother's silhouette is outlined against the stirring reds and oranges of the sky; without a moment's pause, he moves forward, not bothering to soften his footsteps.

Here goes nothing.

[meanandgreen]

At the end of the day, Raph's taken to sitting out on the roof of their suite for some alone time. The markets close for the day, and the people bustle toward home, tired and worn, dragging now-empty carts behind them. Then it's quiet. Quiet enough to let his mind wander back to thoughts of home, playing through old memories and new things like the dojo and fighting Korra. The fight ring. His last exchange with Monet. Leo...

Those last two he's tried really freakin' hard not to think about, but it's hard when it's getting shoved in your face every day. He and Leo never really needed to talk. Even in the best of times they could go about their lives just occupying the same place without ever saying a word. It's just how things were.

But with Leo out of the house so much, and him trying to stay as far away from any of his brother's usual haunts, it's hard not to remember. Their last fight's burrowed into his skin like a splinter, reminding him, over and over, every time he moves the wrong way. And every time, it stings just as sharply as before.

He didn't mean for things to be like this. He didn't mean for Leo to run off. For them to fight about it for this long. But what did he expect?

Part of him feels like Leo picked Monet over him, and it sucks. It really fucking sucks.

So when he hears his brother's approaching footsteps, he thinks it's a mistake. That Leo's just on his way, and they're gonna cross paths again like two ships in the night. He doesn't turn, just watches the setting sun splash across the sky the colors of blood and heat, marking promises of a gentler day ahead.

[duelkatana]

His brother doesn't turn to face him, and he's not sure how to take that. Is the quiet tolerance of his presence Raphael's first step towards forgiveness? Is he at least willing to wait for Leo's grovelling apology before he turns him away?

Or is this the highest rejection between brothers: a refusal to acknowledge his existence any further?

Leonardo doesn't know, but his feet carry him forward anyway, step by step until he comes to a halt just to Raph's right. His eyes flicker towards his brother, catching a glimpse of emerald green and sun-washed red, before darting out towards the horizon.

He opens his mouth to say something; nothing comes. So instead he stands, and exists, and hopes he is more than a ghost haunting the eye of the storm.

[meanandgreen]

Leo's shadow spills over him, dark and long in the failing light. Raph can feel him hesitate, hear the intake of breath and the wordless silence that follows. Let's it hang, his eyes flicking toward where he stands awkwardly beside him, saying nothing.

It's hard not to bristle at what's about to come. What, another argument? A talk? These are the things he's been trying his best to avoid. And Leo's made it easy.

His gaze travels down to the street two stories below, a vender rolling his cart full of empty bins and vegetables picked over from the day's customers. The wooden wheels grind the stone road with the gritty sound of crushing gravel.

"You gonna say something, just say it," He rumbles lowly, and his own voice tastes bitter on his tongue. Thick. This isn't a conversation he's ready to have.

Or maybe it's just long overdue.

[duelkatana]

I'm sorry. The apology churns in his lungs like glass, cutting him to shreds from the inside. Leonardo is prideful, but 'I'm sorry' is a phrase he's all too familiar with - and the issue with that, sometimes, is that it loses its impact when it's truly needed.

The last time he regretted so deeply something he'd done to Raphael is when the anger of being held back had been snuffed out of him, when he'd gripped a blade blooded with history in his hands and shoved his brother to his death. In that moment years ago, it seemed impossible that they could move past it so quickly. What of now? Once again, 'sorry' isn't enough. It doesn't convey a fraction of the regret he feels for what he said to his brother. Because things are never, ever that simple.

You apologize to Raph by moving forward. Forget your grudges - move past everything you've done to him, because it lets him move past what he's done to you.

"I've been asked to help with another mission." It's possibly the dumbest thing imaginable to say to his brother after weeks of complete silence, but it's moving forward, one way or another. "It's about the Foreigner clones that were discovered a while back."

He pauses for a breath that doesn't quite fill his lungs.

"I want you to come."

[meanandgreen]

He turns, slowly, eyes searching his brother's face for a long moment. There are emotions etched into his eyes, into his skin. Things he could never put into words, and they don't have to. They never have to.

Apologies are heavy, cumbersome things. Stumbling blocks. Hurdles that take too much to climb when you can just pick up and go around.

For Raph, actions always speak louder than words, and it's time to move on.

He nods once, his mouth drawn into a hard line. Says: "Okay."

Simple as that.

Leo wants him. That's really all that matters. And this time, it's a fight he cares about.

He turns again, back toward where his legs are dangling off the building's edge. The tiniest of adrenaline rush, just to keep him sharp as the afternoon wind blows out to sea. It almost feels like it's giving him the slightest push. But he won't fall. Only bobs his head toward the empty space next to him.

"Got any more info?"

Sit down. He'll hear you out. It's already a step in the right direction.

back in time, to the 16th-ish.

[sticksaround]

All things considered, Casey is still pretty sure he can call his first three weeks on the Turtle a success. There's been a lack of random ninjas looking to murder him and the people around him, he hasn't been evicted, he met a Mikey from another universe... it's not much, admittedly.

Especially since hockey equipment's been a real pain to try to pin down. And he's in another universe to start with. Sure, great place they've got going here, nice folks in town, whatever. It's still not New York. He's happy to help defeat the ultimate evil, but whether time stops back home or not, he's still a little miffed about not being able to see the guys or to look in on his dad once in a while.

(Not that dad's likely to be doing anything different either way. Stupid drunk.)

Still, could be worse somehow. Probably. Doesn't really matter. Overall, the delicate balance of "okay things versus annoyances" seems a little too involved for Casey to bother with, most days. To hell with the complicated stuff, just give him some generalizations. He's here until he's here, and he's gotta deal with it. And his face is just about completely done looking like he recently tried to headbutt a brick wall, which he's thinking is as good a cue as any to follow up on checking out this other Raph (other other Raph, since he's got his own different universe or something). It's not the Raph he knows, and he might be from another universe that's not living with a Casey Jones, but there's a principle to consider. Besides, he thinks it might be wiser and safer for his overall chances of not getting punched out by a ninja to keep his approach as open as possible. Doesn't get much more open than a public building before dark.

It's still a little late in the day when Casey makes his way to the right neighborhood, since he tried to account for the fact that people train in there: he doesn't want to interrupt a class halfway through, and he doesn't want to stand around inside like a total moron, waiting for one to start and end or however it is that the guys do it up here. How desperate would that look?

He stands around in the general neighborhood for an hour or so instead, waiting until it looks like most or all of the kids have cleared out. Then he ducks in, gives the place a quick once-over, and shoves his hands unceremoniously into his pockets. Where, oh where, could the giant talking ninja turtle be...

"This place closed down for the day, or did I just not see all the advanced ninja students comin' in?" Man, do they do night classes? Should he have asked Mike about that first?

Well, too late now.

[meanandgreen]

The dojo is quiet this time of night, and that's when Raph likes it best. Even if he's still sore about losing that bet with Korra, he had to admit, it was a pretty nice gig. He only had to come in a couple times a week, and it was always when no one else was around. Not to mention he finally had a way to save up for a bike without Leo suspecting something.

But the best part was, he could have the dojo to himself for a while, moving through katas and using the equiptment until Korra came in for her own workout session. Then they'd spar for hours at a time.

He's working the heavy bag when he hears the front door open, figures it's Korra until he hears the voice. Definitely not Korra.

Reaching out a hand to stop the bag, he wipes the sweat off his brow with the other, throwing the kid an irritated look.

"Yeah, we're closed. If you wanna sign up for classes, use the network."

Otherwise, scram.

[sticksaround]

He ignores the unspoken 'scram' in favor of stepping further into the room, but Casey mentally stops a little bit short. Weird-looking (by his standards, knowing the guys and Splinter), he's found out he can handle pretty easy. The other Mike was practically no problem. This Raph sounding different was something he figured he'd probably have to expect, too, but the whole package put together?

Jeez.

This guy is a freakin' brick house. Kind of on the short side, darker, and generally differently-shaped as a base rule, apparently, but talk about being built. What the hell kind of voice is that for a teenager, anyway? Maybe he's not even a teenager. That'd be a new one. Casey stumbles his way over this immediate 'oh right, different universe's territory in a big way' hurdle with an owlish blink, and pretty much without any grace whatsoever. That much is not new to him, at least.

"Uh. Nah, man. Don't need any classes." Hockey sticks and bloody knuckles do him fine, thanks. "I just ran into Mike a few weeks back, and I'm friends with the version 'a you guys I've got back home, so, y'know. I asked him where I could come say hey. Scope out this other universe stuff face-to-face."

He follows up with a shrug. Leo may apparently be scarce for the finding right now, but he's got time.

[meanandgreen]

Not more of this alternate universe crud. It never fails to freak him the fuck out. He has no idea who this kid's supposed to be, even if he does look vaguely familiar, and he's got enough stuff to deal with right now.

"Yeah?" He says, crossing his arms and lifting an appraising brow. You come to scope him out, well he's gonna scope you out, too.

Or maybe he's just sizing him up. But y'know.

"Can't say I'm much of a fan of this alternate universe crud."

But he's not asking the kid to leave, so there's that.

[sticksaround]

He cocks his head to the left. Size away, bro, see if he cares.

(He does. Kind of. First impressions are so stupid when you can't meet someone in a fight or by having a door kicked down.)

"Yeah, well. You and everyone else, man. Hard enough keepin' track of my own." Casey moves forward again and extends a hand. "Name's Casey Jones."

[meanandgreen]

"You gotta be kidding me," he snorts, half disbelief, half relief. This? This is Casey? He's just a kid. Probably not even older than him. But as he moves closer, he can see the resemblance. It's in the shape of the face, and definitely the eyes.

He'll grab that hand, squeezing it in that way that all bros know.

Not his Casey, but he's a Casey. And if he's anything like his friend back home, he's a bro no matter what.

"You're Casey? I guess you look uh... younger than I remember."

And the hair. He can't get over the hair. That moron's always going on about his "caveman style".