[open catch-all]

[duelkatana]

Characters: Leonardo (duelkatana) and OPEN
Date: throughout the month of May
Location: various
Situation: various
Warnings/Rating: none yet; subject to change

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{ooc; If you'd like me to write up a header for you or otherwise plot, feel more than free to PM me or catch me at throesofangels. Or you can tag in with your own starter! This month Leo will spend much of his time rooftop-hopping in the Fire Sector, lingering as near to Tu Vishan's head as he can get away with, and keeping a self-imposed vigil near damage control spots throughout the city. Brackets or prose both welcome!}

Comments

michaelangelo;

[duelkatana]

It takes a while, but eventually Leonardo falls back into the rhythm of having four turtles living under the same roof again. The day after Donatello came home, Leo had looked around their suite and counted three of the people he'd known his entire life - and as though it had just truly struck him at that moment, a certain weight lifted from his back, and a different, familiar one came to rest across his shoulders in its place.

For the first time, it feels like their family is something close to whole. And he keeps having to catch himself from thinking of them all as his brothers. Because one of them isn't. Not quite. Not exactly.

He isn't sure whether the mistake would flatter Mike, or further drive a wedge into the spot where his three brothers should be. Leonardo knows that they're family, right down to their mangled strands of DNA... but they're family separated by dimensions stitched together with stars and silk, and with each passing day, Leonardo can't shake away the worry that the distance is more than metaphorical in nature.

It's only a day or so after their symptoms from the spores begin letting up that Leo seeks him out for a very specific reason. Where does one seek Michaelangelo out? Well, in the kitchen shortly after dinner seems as good a place as any.

[michaeljangelo]

While the ambient temperature of the rest of the house has returned to a normal mid-70s range, the kitchen remains hot. Not uncomfortably so, but warm enough to indicate that the oven is working at a higher level than normal. In addition to that the air is heavy with a smell that can only be described as acrid.

For someone with a limited sense of smell due to Spore Contamination the room leaves a slightly bitter taste along the edges of one's tongue.

Mike is at the sink, elbow-deep in some warm soapy water. Mike has a tendency to sing when he does his chores, and today seems to be a Jimmy Buffet kind of day.

"We are the people they couldn't figure out
We are the people our parents warned us about..."

[duelkatana]

The warmer temperature of the kitchen is noticeable as soon as he crosses the threshold; Leo pauses, folding his arms and leaning into the doorway. Basking instinct takes over from there, letting him appreciate the heat as it presses in comfortingly - but the sharp, cutting tinge to the air cuts down on that simple pleasure.

He watches Mike for a while, his mouth set into a thoughtful line as he observes his cousin. Anyone might think Leo is studying Mike, and he sort of is, but there's no intensity to his gaze - he's relaxed as he watches Mike fuss about the kitchen, hands plunged into the sink up to the elbows. He's in no hurry today, and it's been a while since he's had the opportunity to just watch the others go about their daily lives.

Too bad he has to listen as well, but hey. Similarities between Michelangelo and his cousin seem few and far in-between, and a... boisterous singing voice being one of them is somehow comforting. In its own way.

[michaeljangelo]

The moment someone new entered the room, Mike knew. Who it was had yet to be determined, but that there was another living, breathing, presence in the kitchen was not in doubt. This, however, didn't stop Mike from continuing right along with what he was doing.

If they needed something, chances are good they'd get it themselves.
If they couldn't, they'd ask.
He figured that whoever it wasn't didn't want to talk, because no one just stops to talk to him in the kitchen. They either bellow for him from somewhere within earshot, or throw something at him to get his attention.

But they don't. The presence just stays right where it is.

Okay, correction: Raph would just bellow or throw something.
If Don needed him for something he might knock on the doorframe to get his attention, or clear his throat.

Since neither of these things has occurred, this can only mean that it's Leo standing by the door for reasons yet to be known.

That can't possibly be good.

He hazards a glance to his periphery.

Yup. Leo.
Just standing there.
Saying nothing.
Just watching.
Yup.
That's totally a thing that's happening.

When Mike runs out of lyrics, which isn't doesn't take all that long given the relative brevity of the song itself, he whistles for a bit.

Then he checks his 9 o'clock.
Yup. Still there.
Damn it.

"Hiya Leo," he chirps finally. "Can I get you anything?"
Leo, not Leonardo. Because by this point that's just who he is to Mike.

[duelkatana]

The fact that Mike actually acknowledges Leo's presence, twice, and goes right on doing his thing is somehow reassuring to Leo. They've long past moved the point of being uncomfortable in each other's presence; hard not to, after living together for so long. Wherever they stand... they do have that certain, casual tolerance of one another that only a family can keep.

When his cousin finally turns to verbally greet him, Leo pushes away from the threshold, stepping forward to rest a hand on the back of the kitchen chair.

"Feel like going for a run?"

He tries hard not to make it sound like an order, because it's not meant to be one.

raphael;

[duelkatana]

When Leo slips into the suite late one morning, sliding the window shut with a bit more force than normal, he doesn't even take a look around to see who's home. He just makes a beeline for his room and pushes the door open, failing to shut it behind him as he heads for the desk where he keeps his equipment.

He fiddles with the pads on his elbows and knees, slipping out hidden knives and shuriken and placing them on the flat wooden surface. He draws the concealed tanto out of his belt and puts it back on the stand. And then he pulls his mask off of his face, furiously working out several small lockpicks from a slit in the cloth with faintly trembling hands.

He's going about his business fairly noisily, but he doesn't care. As soon as he takes off all of the gear he'd been prepared to use upon leaving the night before, he's out of the house again.

Besides, if someone does stumble across him, he doubts anyone will push. Except, of course, the one brother who will always push. And then... well, he'll deal with that then.

[meanandgreen]

Noon rolls around, and said brother has just begun to stir from his semi-hibernation. Without Master Splinter, or more recently Leo, to wake him up for practice at the ass crack of dawn, Raph's more than content to sleep until the sun's in his eyes, pouring in from his bedroom window.

He sits in bed for more than a minute, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes and trying to decide what time it has to be. Late, is all he knows.

It's not like he was sick or hurt or anything. That's the only time they ever let him sleep in like this. So what the hell?

Groggily stumbling into the hall with his eyes still half-closed, he barges through his brother's closed door, not even bothering to knock.

"Leo, what the heck!?" He complains indignantly. "You didn't wake me up."

[duelkatana]

With his gear deposited on the table, Leo stalks back to the door, closing it with a forced gentleness that makes him feel like he's a walking time-bomb. Maskless, sleepless, his thoughts swirling in his brain like smoldering ashes, he goes to his mat and drops effortlessly into a lotus position, eyes sliding shut and fingers clenching over his knees.

His meditation is fitful; time seems to crawl by as though glued in place one moment, then leap forward by hours the next. Part of him wants to just keel over and pass out for a bit, because he knows he'd feel better if he slept, but he can't - not like this.

He still feels the ghost of her touch, arms circled around his neck, drawing every frozen wound into the light and then pushing them away with her gentle warmth. It's funny how, after all they've been through together, that's what he remembers. Everything else comes only as fragments - an impostor cloaked in purple, constellations in the sky, chess pieces scattered across a table. Queen takes King. Checkmate.

His shoulder aches. He grits his teeth against the pain.

Leo's lost track of time by the time Raph crashes in; tiredly, he lifts his head, looking at his brother with exhaustion. No, he's not angry anymore - he can't even rise to Raphael, the one person in the world who can get him going no matter what.

Just the thought of Raph's reaction to the news makes Leo feel ill. He meets his brother's gaze.

"Practice is canceled today. Go back to sleep."

[meanandgreen]

"Back to sleep?" He parrots with a heavy dose of frustration, rubbing the crust out of his eyes. "Leo, it's freakin' afternoon!"

Something's wrong. He can feel it. Hear it in the gravel in his brother's voice. The only time they ever let him sleep like this is when he's hurt or sick, true. But he isn't either. It just never dawned on him that something might be wrong with Leo.

It takes him a second to clear the cobwebs from his head, but when his eyes focus, he can tell his brother is off. He looks tired and sick in a way he hasn't seen in a long time, and it sends a cold chill up his spine.

[duelkatana]

"Is it?" he says without really thinking, his eyes flickering to the shafts of sunlight filtering through the shuttered window. He sighs, unclenching one hand to press his palm into his eye. "Sorry. I didn't realize it was that late already."

He should have - his sense of time has always been impeccable, unmatched even by Sensei's. This is stupid. If Monet saw just how out of sorts her disappearance had left him, she would never let him live it down.

Just calling her name to mind almost makes him wince. Women leaving scars in the places he thought he'd protected... he's really a sucker for it, isn't he? But that's unfair to Monet. If she'd had the choice, there's no doubt in his mind that she'd never intend for him to be hurt.

casey jones;

[duelkatana]

Now this is a dance he's done before... in a manner of speaking. There's a familiar anger pulsing under his skin as he draws closer to Casey's suite in the Metal Sector, heating his blood - but it's not the same as before. It's nowhere close. This time it's accompanied by a sadness he can't quite justify, and a wisdom he can.

Loss. Actual loss, rather than the obsesssion of what could have been. He has one comfort in resorting to this visit, and it's that even though his reason for doing so has scaled up in gravity, his attitude going into it hasn't.

He's not sure he fully trusts himself to let off steam responsibly, though, and at a time like this, he can't take chances with his own hotheadedness. The usual, surprisingly effective protocol in this situation is to take someone with an even hotter head so that he's busier keeping them in line. But Raph... he's a no-go. Not this time.

There's a natural alternative, of course. Leo doesn't know him well - hasn't even really gotten a chance to say a word to him yet. But if there's one value intrinsic to Casey Joneses everywhere, Leo's willing to bet money that it's knocking a few heads together. May as well make their first meeting a fun one.

Well... that's what he's banking on, anyway. When Leo drops at the window of the suite Mike had directed him to and taps the glass, though, he's pretty confident in himself.

[sticksaround]

Safe to say he wasn't expecting company tonight, turtle or otherwise. Casey's learned not to expect much of anything in his time living here, or to plan on it: from company to action to a general lack of strategic bombings in his neighborhood. Things haven't been rife with with excitement as a result, but they've stayed manageable. They probably will until he scrapes his crap together and gets out to do something with himself.

So the tapping on his window presents a nice break in monotony. A person can only check over their not-quite-sports-equipment so many times before they have to admit that it's still in one piece. He approaches the window with all the caution and grace of a guy who is either expecting a very confused bird, or who doesn't particularly care what he's gonna find, because he can probably handle a criminal dumb enough to be tapping in the first place. Only instead of what he's expecting, there's more of a teenage mutant ninja turtle situation going on. Which is what he gets for forgetting his "don't expect anything" approach, really.

Casey just stares for a second- because even if he were expecting ninja company, he wouldn't have banked on a Leonardo doing the knocking, as things have stood lately- before ultimately deciding to shrug it off and roll with the punches. Could be something important's up, who knows. He flips the lock and pushes the window open, stepping back to give Leo some space to maneuver in if he wants it.

"Leo, right? Probably shoulda figured you wouldn't be a door person." Look at that, now he's met the full Tu Vishan brothers set face-to-face. Not bad. "Everything okay on the turtle front?"

Windows in the night seem more likely to be how these guys would deliver emergency news.

[duelkatana]

Leo isn't quite prepared for the appearance of this Casey Jones - not that he had any specific expectations in the first place, but he was figuring something close to his own Casey. Big guy, built like a tank, overzealous and friendly. The man who answers the call looks like he's barely left adolescence, staring thoughtfully at him before he pushes the window open and gives Leo some space to come inside.

He almost thinks he has the wrong guy, if not for the way the kid looks him up and down, obviously recognizing him, and then pins his identity on the first shot.

"Everything's fine," he responds, a little off-beat. Curiously, Leo's own head cants to the side as he gives Casey a closer look in the lighting of the room.

He's younger than the man Leo knows - maybe around Leo's own age - and he holds himself a different way. There's a mellowness in his posture and words that Leonardo's never seen in his Casey before, and it makes him wonder just how similar he can possibly be to the loud, boisterous bonehead that he calls family. If first impressions are anything to go by, this guy seems... well. Normal.

Then he remembers why he came in the first place. Leo's feet draw together and he dips into a polite, if casual-around-the-edges, bow.

"Sorry for dropping in like this. I just thought it was about time we finally meet."

[sticksaround]

If the blue mask didn't do it, the lookover and the bow sure would have. Some things, apparently, don't change too much between worlds after all. He's starting to wonder what this other Casey must be like, because Raph seemed pretty thrown off by whatever makes the biggest difference.

Universes.

Sheesh.

"Ahh, don't worry about it, man. Window's always open, even if you gotta break it open." They're not the guys he knows, exactly, but family's family. He'd want that other mysterious Casey Jones to watch out for his bros, and if that wouldn't go both ways, then the other version of him clearly doesn't know what's up. Or maybe he's just got a bigger family. Talk about weird. Casey waves a dismissive hand, which he promptly sticks out to offer for shaking afterward. "Anyway, you just gave me ninja turtle bingo or somethin', so I'd let it slide either way."

[duelkatana]

There's something so very baseline Casey about that response that the doubts niggling at Leo's mind are silenced the moment Casey's hand goes out. Leo straightens and takes a step forward, his posture relaxing to accept it. A bow and a handshake. Two cornerstones he's used to cement a not-quite-new relationship in the past.

If this were his Casey, his hand might be inadvertently crushed, sure - but he doesn't mind taking his chances.

"I'll keep that in mind," he says, breaking into a small grin. "Then I take it you've already run into Raph?"

[Fire Sector] Is this all right? Let me know if I should change anything.

[apologiesmyking]

Kaldur has spent much of his time helping rebuilding in Water Sector, trying to help filter the polluted water and bringing taking water from the ocean and making it viable for civilians to drink. It's one of the few things he knows that he can do. But Fire Sector has been struck hard in the busy trafficked areas, many of the shops and communal areas need to be rebuilt and Kaldur would rather be involved in that work that sitting around doing nothing. He doesn't handle being powerless and stagnant well.

As night falls, he notices the shadow moving swiftly overhead and he looks up to see a figure jumping from roof to roof. Not unexpected, he thinks, with the amount of superhumans are on the turtle. It doesn't make him less curious, but more so.

It takes very little to climb a pile of collected debris and leap onto the roof he had just seen the shadow descend on.

"You seem to be in a hurry," he calls out, wanting his presence to be known.

[Fire Sector] Works great!

[duelkatana]

The Fire Sector deserves a special discerning eye. It always has. It's beautiful and dangerous, rich with luxuries and vices and gangs. In times of war, it only seems to burn brighter.

It's easy to see that the damage it suffered during the attacks is taking its toll on the people living there - even if it isn't as extensive as in Water, there's still plenty of kedan and Foreigners alike flocking to rebuilding sites. Leo's never been much good at mixing with people, so he doesn't try to join in, but patrolling the areas to make sure their work is interrupted makes him feel useful. Useful enough that he's spent the better part of the last few evenings doing just that.

It's a plan that's gone off without a hitch thus far... so when he's passing by a shop undergoing construction and a spike of adrenaline prickles at his neck, his ears catching the faintest shift of the air behind him, he's almost surprised. He turns just as the voice calls out, one arm tensed as though to make a grab for the katana on his shell - but he doesn't, not yet.

Leo's eyes narrow as he looks the newcomer in the dim light of the lanterns patterned along the roof's edge. He can't tell much about him, including whether he looks closer to friend or to foe, but he can imagine how he himself must look to anyone who might spot him slinking around in the shadows near damaged areas.

Slowly, Leo edges closer to one of the lanterns so that he's just barely visible against the darkening sky.

"Just trying to stay out of the way." His voice is low, but cordial; he's not looking for a fight.

[Fire Sector]

[apologiesmyking]

One can never be too cautious, Kaldur knows that himself very well. For all the superhumans that are here, he is not naive enough to believe that all of them are heroes. But he also knows better than to judge what he sees simply on their looks alone, whether that be toward the good or otherwise.

He keeps his hands loose and empty, not reaching for the weapons as the person he has confronted is not reaching for theirs. To him, that is a good sign. Neither of them want to start a fight here where enough damage has been done, hopefully. His eyes adjust easily to the dim lighting on the roof, more shadowed and faded than the brightness of the streets below--it is a benefit of coming from a home with so little natural light--but it seems like the other person would rather stay shadowed, so he does not get closer for a better look.

"There is no need to avoid, when the addition would be welcome," he points outs.

[Fire Sector]

[duelkatana]

The stranger's words go a long way; the fact that he hadn't reached for his weapons either, even further. It seems like he's run into something of a diplomat, which - sadly - doesn't happen often. Feeling more confident now, Leo dares another step closer, allowing the odd outline of his body to become more visible in the lanterns' glow.

"I'm not good with crowds," he admits with a touch of embarrassment, glancing towards the people working below. He understands that he'd hardly be given a second glance in this world, but it's hard to undo years and years of programming. He turns back to look at the stranger, his head tipping in interest. "And it looks like you have this under control."

He's impressed the man was able to spot him among the rooftops. Security, maybe? He hasn't met many guards of the 'ask questions first, shoot later' nature.

[Fire Sector]

[apologiesmyking]

There is some surprise, but only just, when he finally gets a better view of the roof-traveling stranger. Most people he has met since he arrived have looked human in majority of ways. He himself even passes if others do not look too closely at his hands and neck. But the surprise brings about also a familiar sense of home. He can understand why he prefers to avoid crowds, then.

"Controlled, yes, but as I said, work is done faster when there are more of us set to it," he gives an encouraging smile, but is not sure how visible it is. "We were lucky that despite the damage, injuries were kept minimal. It makes rebuilding what was lost easier, even with the other difficulties." Like the water that has been tainted and the crops ruined.

"My name is Kaldur'ahm," he introduces himself.

donatello;

[duelkatana]

It's just another run-through of his daily routine - clean his swords, do some stretches, meditate for an hour before starting the evening - but when he finally ties his mask on and turns to leave the room, his eyes catch the chess board sitting on his desk. His gaze keeps right on going and he almost leaves the room, but something stops him; draws his eyes back to the board and pieces that sit collecting dust.

He hasn't had much use for it ever since he picked it up. His games with Monet had always been over the network, and he'd never even bothered asking Raph or Mike to play... he'd done a few games by himself once or twice, but that gets too dull even for him. Leo had even begun considering getting rid of it.

But now...

He stares at the chessboard for what feels like entirely too long. Now he has one single reason to keep it.

The decision is swiftly made. Leo steps out of his room, leaving the door cracked as he looks about living area. "Donnie?" he calls, just barely loud enough to project through the suite.

[i_speak_softly]

"Yes?" A flat, automatic tone. Don is engrossed in something, hardly aware enough of his surroundings to notice his own name being called.

What he is engrossed in at this moment is the back of the icebox, which has been pulled away from the wall enough for a Turtle to crawl in behind it. Don's legs are sticking out across the kitchen floor, the rest of him buried in cords, coils, and the inevitable dust bunnies.

It's more or less been like this since he moved in. Every time anyone turns around, Don is crammed in some awkward corner, fiddling around with the mysterious guts of things, the back-ends that no one else ever looks at. His work is often disruptive, but his wake is filled with marvelous upgrades to the Hamato standard of living. It may or may not be apparent what he has in mind for this latest project...

[duelkatana]

Leo follows the voice into the kitchen, and is... not surprised in the least to find the icebox hauled away from the wall and his brother halfway jammed behind it. He gives a slight sigh, but it's more fond exasperation than anything else. This is just how Don adjusts. As long as he doesn't cause the whole suite to explode, Leo is mostly happy to let him do whatever he'd like.

It does answer Leo's question of whether or not his brother is busy, however. His mouth thins as he considers whether or not to just ask some other time - he knows better than anyone how hard it can be to pull Don away from one of his projects.

But there's no harm in asking, is there? Chess aside, they haven't had much of a chance to talk since Don got here - not between his fussing over the spores and Monet's recent disappearance. Leo's missed his brother for a long, long time, and now he finally has him back.

Leonardo moves forward to the wall, leaning against it and crossing his arms. His head angles to look at Don wedged behind the icebox. His voice is one part dubious, two parts amusement as he asks, "What, exactly, are you doing?"

[i_speak_softly]

Leo's shadow falls over Don in his little workspace, and he looks up. "I'm seeing if I can convert the icebox into a proper refrigerator," he says, and traces a finger over the tangle of parts, in case that might help Leo understand his explanation. "See, an icebox just has lots of insulation - no moving parts. A refrigerator needs a vapor compressor, a condenser for heat exchange, a recirculation loop, and a power source to drive it all." He looks at the mess again, taking stock of his project's status. "If I can't install those into this unit, I'll have to haul the refrigerator from the other apartment back here."

His brow furrows, as it occurs to him this might not be the answer Leo is looking for. "Did you need something?"

[duelkatana]

Leo understood about half of that, which is enough. He dips his head in silent approval; a working refrigerator would be great to have around. The icebox served its purpose, but food management has been a problem for them since day one.

Yet Don's question gives him pause. Well... even if he didn't ask now, he'd just end up asking some other time Don was elbow-deep in a different project.

"Actually, I was wondering if you had a minute." He jerks a thumb over his shoulder. "I found an old chess set a while back that's just been collecting dust over the last few months. You up for a game?"