Hamato Leonardo (
duelkatana) wrote in
tushanshu_logs2014-05-18 08:28 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
[open catch-all]
Characters: Leonardo (
duelkatana) and OPEN
Date: throughout the month of May
Location: various
Situation: various
Warnings/Rating: none yet; subject to change
-
{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!}
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Date: throughout the month of May
Location: various
Situation: various
Warnings/Rating: none yet; subject to change
-
{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
no subject
It's a joke, and yet, consciously or not, there's a germ of hurt in it. Leo has been doing something for the past year - getting older, getting wiser, practicing anything and everything in his obsessive, obstinate, admirable way - while Don didn't even know he was gone. It's a concept Don is still trying to swallow, more difficult even than brothers from another dimension, or evil techno-organic entities, or mysterious powers thinking that slightly-upgraded tech could coax him to live apart from his family.
Don makes an opening move on the chessboard, as he ponders his conversational gambit.
no subject
What exactly has happened is a floodgate that Leo isn't big enough to open. Even when he feels it hanging like a chasm between him and Donatello, he's still not sure of how to cross it... or if he even wants to.
He makes his own move without hesitation. His chess-playing style has changed over the year, too, and he isn't sure why that of all things makes him feel guiltiest.
no subject
no subject
There's no bite at all to it, but Leo is clearly prepared to counter ambiguous questions with ambiguous answers.
no subject
"Are you sure?" he presses. "You've seemed down lately."
no subject
It's just that his style is so different.
After a few heartbeats, he picks up a Bishop and plays away from the trap - a more traditional Leo move.
"This city is in the middle of a war, and we got laid out for over a week," he says carefully, eyes fixed on his Bishop. "I guess I've just been going a little stir crazy."
It's not a lie; he practically dragged Mike out of the house not too long ago after being on lockdown for so long.
no subject
"What do you want to do?" Don asks. About the situation in the city, that is. The question comes with an unspoken What do you want me to do? He's been working on some of his own projects, but it's mostly a positioning move - making sure he has the technical knowledge he'll need to carry out any orders his brother gives him.
no subject
His eyes narrow at the question. What do they do, indeed. If Monet were still here, Leo would ask if she's heard anything from her people - contacts who Leo isn't even sure exist anymore. It had been foolish to rely on her as his primary source of information; he has his own connections here and there, but nothing like she did.
Leo gives a soft exhale, tinged with frustration around the edges, and steeples his hands. "I lost my most important..." he grimaces. "...contact a while ago. She had her own feelers throughout the city - if I can track them down, we may finally have a starting point."
Which means, until he figures out what the hell is going on, he actually doesn't have anything for you. But Don himself has always been better at sticking his nose into things than anyone gave him credit for. Leo's eyes finally flicker up towards his brother. "What have you heard?"
no subject
"I found out that - the thing in the palace, is a techno-organic construct that may have been spawned from the networks themselves." He rubs the ridge between his eyes. "Which explains a lot about the virus. Beyond that, I can tell you anything you want to know about Communicative Technologies of Keeliai."
Maybe some of which can be useful in tracking down Leo's "contacts"?
no subject
no subject
no subject
And if it was spawned from the Network... that opens up a whole new can of privacy-violating-worms that stretches way further back than some cybernetic Cthulu.
This is going to be a headache.
"Okay," he says, moving a knight. "Tell me about these Communicative Technologies. Layman's terms, Donnie."
no subject
He doesn't entirely manage to stick to "layman's terms", but his dissertation ought to be about 90% comprehensible.
no subject
"Check," he notes as he moves his remaining rook. With that, he looks up from the board, his focus shifting solely to Donatello. "So you really think you can do this? Mock up some kind of... underground communications network?"
no subject
But then there's the other side of the coin: he has intellectual equals, and access to the industrial capabilities of a major city, and little else to spend his time on.
"I... have help, Leo. We can do this."
no subject
no subject
Don studies the board, trying to see if there's any way out of this check. "No one has ever spotted me while I was installing repeaters," he says. "And the best hackers on our Internet can't find my IP address. But, Leo, you're the strategist. How do I build this thing so uninvited guests never even know there's something to hack?"
no subject
May as well start with the very basics.
"We'll need to cut down on repeaters to as few as we can get away with. If possible, we might want to hide some outside the city walls - I don't think the Emperor or any of our guests will go looking there." His gaze shoots to the board, and he holds it there for a few moments, as though playing out his own game of mental chess. "We're looking for utility; not style. Start with the bare minimum and you can start upgrading from there. As for the communicators... they should be small, discreet. Something mass-producible and destructible might be best."
no subject
"With fewer repeaters, the new system won't be any better than the old, from a clarity-of-signal perspective." He's vaguely aware that this is missing the point, but it's important to him anyway. "We can make them smaller, though. They can be inside people's apartments." A pause, a glance in a random direction. "Maybe. I'll have to look at the frequency range again."
He's not loving the idea of disposable tech, either. It physically pains him whenever something he labored over is destroyed. Unless, of course, he designed it to explode.
"Can they be self-destructible?" he asks. "And can I call them Turtle Telecomms?"
no subject
He cuts himself off once he processes Don's request, and stops to give him a mild look of Really? over the board. Should he be worried about all these things you try rigging to explode?
no subject
It takes him a minute to realize he is on the receiving end of a funny look, and then he just blinks, unsure what he's done to deserve this.
no subject
"Maybe we should come up with a name that's a little more... inclusive," he suggests. Not that he doesn't like the idea of the Foreigner population running around with Turtle brand name radios, but... okay, no, he just doesn't like that idea at all.
There is also no mention of the self-destruction request, which is probably as good as a green light.
no subject
"We could call the network Shell Atlantic. Or Shell Keeliai, I guess."
no subject
Either way, the name of the project isn't really the highest thing on his list of priorities, so he attempts to shelve it for now.
"We'll talk about it later. Who else do you have working on this?"
no subject
"Aya. Mike. Other people I haven't really met yet. But - it's more like they have me working on it." He rubs the back of his neck, betraying some of the anxiety he feels about this: being welcomed into a group, and yet still being an outsider. "They all know each other. I'm the new guy."
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)