tushanshu_logs | [open catch-all]

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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!}

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Had Leonardo not known his brother, he might not know his cousin as well as he does. Here's the truth: Every time you think a Mikey isn't paying attention, he'll surprise you three hours or weeks or even years later, relaying information and wisdom to you with perfect clarity.

More than anything, that might be the biggest difference between Michaelangelo and Michelangelo: Mike looks like he's always living in his own head, while Mikey seems to be living everywhere but, and either way, they manage to view the world with a hidden clarity their brothers could only dream of.

It's that clarity that drives Leonardo's silence. How does Mike look at their patchwork family - including his own place in it?

They're approaching the hour mark when Leo pulls away from the back roads, instead leading them to the trees and shrubbery that line Water's numerous canals. As much as he hates to admit it, he's getting a little winded - and, more importantly, tired of stalling this conversation.

Leo diverts from the road, moving beneath the shade of a tall tree that overshadows a nearby pond, and turns to lean his shell against the trunk. He glances sideways out into the water, arms crossing over his plastron.

"Mike..."

His tone isn't the warning 'you're-in-trouble' tone, nor is it the 'I-have-bad-news' tone. If anything, it sounds hesitant, as though he's afraid his next words may cause offense.

The gradual slowing of Leo's gait does not go unnoticed in spite of the fact that it does go unremarked upon.

Mike is just about to jump to reach for a low branch when Leo's tone catches his attention.

That...can't be good.

"I know what you're going to say..."

Leo shoots his level gaze over to Mike, holding it there. He somehow doubts that... but he waits anyway.

Mike chances a look at his cousin, sees that patented Level Gaze, and holds it...for a good long while. Far longer than even he thought he'd manage.

But eventually, he breaks.

"Okay, I really have no idea, but I figured that was probably my only ever chance to say that, and I took it." He holds up a finger. "Plus, tension breaker. Had to be done."

It's about then that Leo realizes he might be coming across as a bit intense right now, and that he should probably ease up some if he doesn't want this to become an interrogation. He duly gives a soft snort, letting his tense muscles relax as he looks straight out in front of him.

"I've been meaning to ask for a while now... what are your brothers like?"

No one knows better than Leo how loaded a question that is, but he leaves it at that.

His brow furrows, and then adopts the universal animal stance for "I'm going to figure this out," ie: he tilts his head to one side.

"How do you mean?"

"You've met my brothers... and the Little Ninja's," he replies without missing a beat. "But we don't know a single thing about your family."

He knows he's like Mike's Leonardo. He knows Raph must be like Mike's Raph - his handling of his wayward cousin is too perfect, too practiced. But all Leonardo has ever known about that world is that it has a Michaelangelo more left of right than any other counterpart he's met.

"I'm asking you to tell me."

"Ah," he says turning away, deciding that now would probably be the best point to refocus his attention to that lower hanging bough just overhead.

"Well..." the sentence starts, but doesn't continue until Mike has lept from the ground into the foliage.

"...for starters, we all wear red." There's an even longer pause after that. Mike plays it off like he's trying to get comfortable in his new roost, but in truth he's not entirely sure what to say next.

"I don't know, they're shorter than you guys are. Voices are different. Leo's all like. But then Don's all like. And don't get me started on Raph. He switches from voice to voice with the practiced easy of little brothers' everywhere.

Leo's eyes catch a leaf shaken free by Mike's rustling in the branches; he watches it flutter down slowly, nearly touching the ground before being swept up by a gust of wind. As it flits over the pond, he leans his head back into the trunk to peer at his cousin through the leaves.

There's probably a bit more amusement and fondness in his look than he'd been planning to exercise today, but to hell with it.

He senses that Mike is grasping, though - so while he hadn't meant to breach this specific topic quite so soon, he finds himself asking before he can stop himself.

"And me?" His head tilts in curiosity. "What am I like?"

"You mean my Leo."

It's not a question, but a the slow realization that maybe this is what the whole walk was all about in the first place. He considers his words carefully, Leo deserves nothing less.

"Leo's solid. Always. Never a missed step, or makes a gesture out of place. His form is flawless and his execution damn near perfect. Always."

There's an adoration in his tone that's more than just filial love, it's something more akin to hero worship.

"Of course," a slow smile creeps into his voice. "You can't be all hospital corners without being a little stiff, you know? I think maybe he forgets that we're still kids sometimes."

Kids...

His eyes narrow, almost sadly, but he lets the silence float in the evening air. Kids, huh? It's easy to forget that Michaelangelo and his brothers are a few years younger than Leo's family. Sixteen years old... for Leonardo, that just a couple years ago, and it feels like thirty for all of the things he's been through since then.

What can he say? Even if their lives aren't carbon copies of one another, Leonardo knows in his core that Mike and his family have so much to live through. Maybe they're kids now, but they won't get to be for much longer. He isn't sure whether to admire his counterpart for his steadfast realization of that fact, or wish he'd just enjoy it while it lasted.

Even the way Mike talks about him - heh. That's some hero worship, all right. Leo doesn't think his own Mikey would ever be that starry-eyed over him. If anything, it adds another layer to his mixed emotions: it's likely that Mike just hasn't seen the worst in his brother yet. He will, one day. Of that, Leonardo has no doubt.

He snorts softly. "Sounds like a running trait."

Even the Little Ninja was far more serious than his fifteen years should have let him be.

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