[Open]

[meanandgreen]

Characters: Raphael and YOU
Date: Catch-all for End of July and August
Location: Water, Wood, and Metal Sectors
Situation: Just a Turtle doin' his thing
Warnings/Rating: None

Things were getting better, much as Raphael would hate to admit it. Ever since they'd split his family up, ever since Don discovered his new power, things have felt off-kilter. Unbalanced. And that reflected on his own stability.

He started going to the fight ring in the Fire Sector again. Spent weeks stumbling home late at night with cuts and bruises he wouldn't talk about. Disappeared for days. Went quieter than usual, his thoughts turned inward, closely guarded. It's his own way of coping.

Lately, more than ever, he could feel things changing, feel the bones of his family shifting. The growing pains are hard to avoid.

But move on with their own cadence, building a new familiarity around him. Leo comes almost every evening, and they meditate. Talk. He and Mike spend quiet nights over home cooked meals and idle conversation about the kids he teaches at the dojo, the people they've met, and it helps. Makes the chaos in his head go quiet for a little while. The days get longer and hotter, and the heat soothes the aches.

As much as he'd hate to admit it, he hasn't felt this good in a long, long time, and it shows. After a long disappearance, he shows up at the dojo again, hoping he still has a job. Hoping he could pick a fight with Korra like they used to. He starts collecting books about building motorcycles with plenty of diagrams. Even starts gathering a handful of parts. But without Don, he doubts he'll get very far.

But things were getting better. Falling into a new rhythm that hurts a little less each day.

He has to tell himself to enjoy it while it lasts, because he knows all too well how fast these things can change.

Comments

Backdated to Monday evening

[royalguard_style]

While not cataclysmic, something, or rather, someone was about to change things up, mainly by moving in and being as shady as possible. It isn't really his fault; Dante was thrown into this world headfirst without any warning and then told that he was being roomed with two other people. He didn't exactly have room to object, especially since his soul was there, and he didn't know how much two strangers could be trusted to not damage something as important as that.

He hasn't had to introduce himself in this manner before, and had no idea how to be a courteous roommate; even when he didn't live alone at home, he was the one who invited people over. With that in mind, he handled the entire situation as tactfully as he knew how; he covered his weapons in cheap cloth so he wouldn't scare any civilians, and tried to slip in quietly that evening. Surely the emperor told them that he was coming, right? They wouldn't just assign him a room and then not tell the people currently living there, because that would be mean.

[meanandgreen]

They knew he was coming. When the magician woman had appeared that morning to fix a third lantern in their suite, Raphael had tried everything he could to chase her away. Try to convince her to put it somewhere else. Because after months of having the place to themselves, it had become his house. His and Mikey's home. Dealing with another stranger invading their home was not on his agenda, and not something that was gonna go down without a fight.

But there was no way of avoiding it. They were getting a new roommate whether he liked it or not.

So Raph stayed home. Stood guard over the place. Stayed on the roof, keeping a sharp eye out for any sign of the intruder they were promised would come.

He saw the guy on his way long before he reached the front door, moving in quietly without a knock or invitation.

Growling lowly, Raph pushes off his rooftop perch and steals around the building, slipping in silently through one of the front windows.

"You know most people would think about knockin' first," he rumbles, loud and sudden. When Dante turns, he'll see a five foot talking turtle leaning against the far wall. Glaring. His arms are crossed over his chest, but he holds a sai in one hand, the other still holstered in his belt.

Who knows what kind of wackjob this guy could be? He's heard of the kind of people who can show up here. Not all of them were heroes. And if he turned out to be someone he had to deal with? He was ready to deal with him the best way he knew how.

[royalguard_style]

If it wasn't for the whole "guess where we put your soul" thing, Dante probably wouldn't have even shown up. But at the very least, he needed to make sure that his soul wasn't being left with a pair of necromancers or something awful like that.With any luck, he can just keep his head low, finish his mission, and be gone before anyone can call him out on his eccentric lifestyle.

Unfortunately for him, that little plan blew up the second he was confronted with a giant turtle holding an eastern-style knife. Well, it was unplanned, but it was new and exciting.

Dante could try saying "Mea culpa" and exchange pleasantries, but he had no way of knowing if this was actually his roommate or just another random assailant. Besides, he might as well have a bit of fun while trying to figure out who this guy was.

"Most people weren't forced to live with two people they don't know because their soul was attached to the place." He was completely calm about the whole situation, and his tone of voice contained just a hint of smugness.

"They don't really teach about those kinds of things at finishing school, you know?"

[meanandgreen]

"Then I guess school's in session," Raph sneers, idly spinning his sai. "I know we don't got a choice, but for however long we gotta put up with each other, this is my house. My house, my rules."

Pushing away from the wall, he changes his grip on his sai, the sharply filed points jutting threateningly between his fingers.

"Got it?"

[royalguard_style]

"I'm not so sure." He shrugs, seemingly not threatened in the slightest.

"Generally, I don't like taking orders from guys who point knives at me. Just saying."

"But, let's hear it." He leans on the wall, sticks his hands in his pockets, and prepares to barely listen to a word Raph has to say. "We're stuck with each-other, so I might as well play nice."

[meanandgreen]

"What, this?" He says, casually flipping the sai so he's holding it by the pommel. "Buddy, you would know if I was pointin' it at you."

It'd be halfway in your jugular by now if he was. No, all of this is just macho bullshit meant to strike a little fear in his heart. Drive home the point that he is not welcome here, and never will be. Maybe it's not working exactly how he planned, but he can deal with it.

Raph's eyes narrow as the guy's hands find their way into his pockets, sliding into a half-crouch, ready to attack if things get dicey.

"Hands where I can see 'em."

[royalguard_style]

"I don't see anyone else here, and I have a feeling you don't keep that thing around for decoration."

Dante knows he's not welcome, but he just doesn't care. Under normal circumstances, that sai wouldn't be enough to kill him no matter where Raph puts it. Dante doesn't know how much he's recovered since this morning, but at the very worst, he'd just have to make sure he didn't get stabbed.

"Sheesh, you treat everyone you meet like this?" He does exactly as he asks, and puts his hands out in front of him.

"I'm not stupid enough to carry my guns in my pocket. A guy could shoot himself that way." Dante still has no idea how to keep his mouth shut and insists on digging himself deeper in an idiotic attempt to diffuse the situation.

[meanandgreen]

Yeah, not helping. If this guy could be a danger to his cousin, to his family, he's not gonna go rolling out the welcome wagon. No way. Not when this guy has guns and can hit them where they're vulnerable.

"Put your weapons on the floor. All of them."

[royalguard_style]

"Alright, alright. If it'll get you off of my back, then I'll play along." He rolled his eyes, and took his trenchcoat off. Raphael, you have no idea what you just asked.

He started gently pulling his weapons from his trenchcoat and tossing his weapons in front of him. The items started out mundane enough- a pair of pistols and a shotgun were the first things to hit the ground.

The items after those, however, got progressively weirder. A pair of carefully folded steel gauntlets were tossed out next, followed by an unknown object that quickly changed into a briefcase with a rather imposing skull imprinted on it. The last item he managed to pull from his coat could only be described as a pair of insectoid claws holding a rose.

"Just don't touch anything, okay?" He finished off by tossing his sword to the ground on top of the pile.

"I don't want anyone getting hurt, and that's not a threat." He is, however, prepared to make sure that Raph doesn't touch anything that might try to kill him. He's mad at this whole situation, but not that mad.

[meanandgreen]

"Easy...," he warns lowly as the guns get placed on the ground.

Nothing could prepare him for the freaky arsenal that follows.

Raphael has seen all kinds of weird crud. He's been to alien planets, even fought in a cross-dimensional battling tournament. But all the freaky things he's seen can't hold a candle to this guy. Where is he even keeping it all?

This stuff looks evil. Really freakin' evil, and it does nothing to settle his nerves. Though he doesn't move from his spot, watching the guy carefully until his sword becomes the proverbial cherry on this deathtrap sundae.

Now that the guy's unarmed, curiosity gets the best of him. There's no way he's dumb enough to touch any of that crud, but he does want to get a closer look.

"I know a thing or two about weapons," he snaps, keeping his eyes on Dante as he pads cautiously toward the pile, crouching a few feet away. He can handle it. Don't tell him what to do.

It takes him a minute to even understand what he's looking at, his attention drawn to that insect-looking thing. It makes his skin crawl. "Man, I'd hate to see what you've been fighting."

[royalguard_style]

Dante's a little disappointed that Raphael wasn't completely scared off. He had hoped that obeying his directions to the letter would freak him out enough so that he'd drop the tough guy act, but apparently this guy was devoted to being a jerk.

There was a reason Dante kept his trenchcoat on him in the middle of summer, and it was because it was great at hiding whatever he ended up bringing home with him. The fact that some of it shape-shifted helped as well, but in the end, there's a reason he usually sticks to his sword and guns, and this is it.

Dante stays perfectly still, but still on the ready as Raphael walks toward the pile, just in case he's seriously dumb enough to try touching any of it. He's fully aware of what this might look like, which is why he tried to sneak into the house in the first place. Most things he could divulge about himself raise far, far more questions then they answer. He could get used to telling everyone what he does for a living, but not things like this.

"I'm looking at something much uglier right now." Sorry Raph, you had that one coming for putting him through this entire ordeal. "Now can you finish your little lecture, or do you want me to strip down as well?"

[meanandgreen]

Standing from his crouch, Raph bares his teeth and growls, visibly bristling. Yeah, he's a horrible, hideous freak. Tell him something he doesn't know.

The funny thing is, that was him trying to make conversation. He's just never been good at making conversation, and this whole situation is putting him on edge.

"Keep your shirt on," he snarls. "And watch who you're callin' ugly."

Because he really, really wants to punch him in the face. He wasn't angry before. Pretty irritated, yeah, but this guy's starting to wear on his last nerve.

Truth is, he doesn't know what to do or say next. He doesn't want this guy in his house, but other than carrying an assortment of really freakin' evil-looking weapons and being an overall shady character, he hasn't done anything to warrant drastic action.

At this point, all he needs is a reason.

If he wants a fight, he'll give him one. He's not afraid of anything.

[michaeljangelo]

It's probably easy to miss the sound of the whistling, what with all the tense posturing going on, but...it's there. Quiet at first, but getting louder as the turtle whistling gets closer. Anyone familiar with Disney's Robin Hood will easily recognize the tune.

Mike rounds the corner, and holds the note he's on as he takes in the scene before him.

"Woah...are we disarming Germany?" he asks passing a glance at the ground.

[Closed to Donatello]

[meanandgreen]

Lately, things between him and Don haven't been easy. The disaster of their last conversation still rings clearly in his head, stuck on repeat. Invades his conscience and his sleep.

He wishes he could hit rewind, do things over again. But how? In the end, it was still his mind getting invaded. He had every right to get angry. Just... maybe not that angry.

They spend a lot of time away, not talking to each other. Raph can't even dredge up the courage to call him on the consoles. Instead, he collapses in on himself. Keeps himself even more carefully guarded from than he usual. Hardly talks to anyone.

Leo helps, as much as he'd hate to admit it. He comes every evening for days to sit and talk. Meditate. Help Raph get his head together in a way that doesn't involve bloodshed and broken knuckles. (Though that method of coping helps, too.)

He'd been distracting himself with thinking about building a motorcycle. Pours over diagrams. Wishes there were magazines he could be reading instead. He never really was a book sort of guy, but it takes his mind off things, so he tries.

After a week, he calls Don up on the consoles, and they spend hours coming up with the schematics. Make a lengthy list of parts they need. And finally, Raph agrees to come down to the Metal Sector to get things started.

So he packs up his books and his notes and heads out sometime in the late afternoon. The walk is long and hot, and he feels a little queasy as he lets himself into their suite.

Talking over the consoles was one thing. It was safe. But meeting his brother face-to-face meant putting himself at risk for another psychic invasion, and that wasn't something he was looking forward to experiencing twice.

Don had gotten better at controlling it. They had promised him up and down. And even though the gamble he's taking still puts him on edge, Raph just misses his brother.

He can't keep hiding behind a computer screen. He's better than that. Stronger than that.

He can do this.

[i_speak_softly]

The front room is warm, purposely kept that way as a sort of Turtle equalization station between the heat of outdoors and the more-traditionally room-temperature spaces inside. Thermoses of cool water are lined up on a neatly-hung shelf. Opposite, a bench has accumulated various things Don and Leo use to occupy themselves while equalizing. Sadly, none of them are motorcycle magazines - those have proved difficult to come by in Keeliai.

Don, meanwhile, is upstairs sorting through the various parts he's collected. Over the past weeks, the conversations with Raph had become his favorite part of the day - partly because he loved the subject matter, and partly because he was relieved to be talking to his brother again about anything. He hasn't quite admitted to anyone how much time outside of that he spent on the schematics... and probably won't. This is Raph's project. His own daydreams about how the result might look will remain exactly that.

[meanandgreen]

Dropping his bag on the floor, Raph gratefully grabs one of the thermoses, taking a calming breath as he unscrews the top.

Here goes nothing.

"Yo, Donnie!"

Bet this place's been quiet without Raph and Mike to constantly fill it with noise and yelling.

[i_speak_softly]

In some ways Don has missed the yelling and in other ways he hasn't at all, but at the familiar shout he looks up from his work. It's tempting to reply telepathically, that having become almost normal between him and Leo, but... no.

He stands up, pads downstairs, and taps on the back of the entryway door with a knuckle.

"Hey, Raph. How was the trip?"

[meanandgreen]

"All right, I guess," he replies with a shrug, breathless from gulping water without coming up for air. "'S startin' to get hot out there."

Yeah, that's right. Act casual. Act like nothing happened. It's just Don.

He toes at the bag on the floor. "Packed up some leftovers if you want some."

[i_speak_softly]

Hence the carefully-prepared entryway.

"Bring them in when you're equal," Don says. "I'll be in the living room."

[meanandgreen]

Raph just rolls his eyes at his brother's retreating shell, finishing off the rest of the thermos of lukewarm water. He didn't come here just to stand in the hallway, so he snatches a second thermos off the shelf and shoulders his bag, following Don into the living room.

"It's fine. I just wanna get started on the bike."

It's not like they have air conditioning in there or anything. He'll live.

[i_speak_softly]

Don gives Raph a Look, but decides not to pursue the subject.

"Then you can help me bring everything downstairs." I.e., a step you could have avoided if you just sat still for five minutes.

[meanandgreen]

Don can look at him all he wants. He didn't just walk half a day to stand around. And even though he's tired from the trip, he doesn't mind helping. So he dumps his bag and thermos on the couch.

"Yeah, sure. I wanna finally see these parts for myself."

[i_speak_softly]

"There's not much to see," Don warns as they climb the stairs. "The bad news is, I did not find a chassis in pristine condition, complete with racing stripes. The good news is, we get to make our own."

Don's room looks more or less like the aftermath of a motorcycle factory explosion... and possibly the plant next door burned down too, leading to an intermingling of parts that don't belong on any vehicle.

"This is it. I haven't quite finished sorting it out."

[meanandgreen]

Every inch of his brother's room is covered in rust-covered pieces of scrap and spare parts. It's like he somehow stuffed an entire salvage yard in there. Not that Raph's complaining. Though it makes him feel a little claustrophobic, he is definitely impressed. If there's anything they'll need to build this thing, Don's probably got it.

"No kidding," he deadpans. Though his attention's already been caught by the shelves of smaller parts along the wall, pulling a carburetor free from the rest of the clutter to study more closely.

A freakin' carburetor.

"Gotta say, I'm more worried about the engine. Don't think they even invented something with four cylinders yet. And you're lucky if you can find one with more than 300ccs."

The Shell Cycle wasn't exactly a top-of-the-line high performance bike. It was a great bike, but not the bike of his dreams. If he had it his way, he'd be blasting around at 200mph on something with a six speed transmission. And Leo would probably kill them both.

[i_speak_softly]

If Raph didn't kill himself first.

Don just shrugs at this comment. "Once you've mastered two cylinders, adding more is not that much of a technological leap. How many do you want?"

He doesn't have great resources for fabricating parts here, but he didn't at home either, and that never stopped him.