[Open] Pull My Heart Out, Reconstruct

[purplexing]

WHO: Donnie and whoever!
WHAT: Sad, conflicted turtles, Side B
WHEN: Late July after this whole mess/Early August
WHERE: Around the city and at the Convoy
WARNINGS: TBD
NOTES: Will match tag format preferences! (aka prose, action)



I. Afraid to admit I might self-destruct
"We're brothers - we're in this together."

"We're family! We've been family since we were mutated - no, before that!"

Leonardo's words continue to resound in his mind, even though it's been... He doesn't know how long it's been, but it feels like it must have been some time ago now.

"You have to remember!"

It's driving him crazy, the desperate pleas, the hurt expression on the other turtle's face. Leo had been convinced of some deep set relation between them, there's no way nor reason he should have been faking such a response.

But it had only left Donnie unsettled with a growing panic as he simply had no clue as to why he didn't feel anything more than that. How was he supposed to respond? What was Leo expecting from him? He was practically demanding something that Donnie simply couldn't fathom.

So why does it bother him still?

"Please, Donnie. Please. Don't leave me."

The lack of understanding, the fear that something potentially precious had been robbed him, it gnaws at him, driving him to distraction, to do anything so long as he won't have to think about Leo.

It's pure recklessness to throw himself into the midst of those cyborg/monster skirmishes in the city. He attacks both sides without hesitation, not even bothering to take care when he confronts the mechanized men, leaving little for hope of salvage. At least the Igueons provide some healing for any damage he might sustain, fueling his killing cycle until he clears out whatever he's come across or someone stops him. Or, heaven forbid, tries to help.


II. If and when there ever is a next time
Leo's not here, but then why should he be? Donnie can't find himself entirely surprised when he finally comes back to the Turtle Tank and finds the other turtle's meager possessions cleared out. Should he feel bad about that?

His body aches and he's not sure if it's just from all the fighting or something else, and while he'd been surprised to find Leo had left that lasagna recipe behind, it doesn't really do anything when Donnie tries to have a look at it. But it's just a recipe, not a page from a spell book. Leo had valued it however, so Donnie decides to keep it somewhere safe in case the other had simply forgotten to retrieve it. Same for the picture on the wall, although seeing his father and April there stokes a different yet more familiar ache. But why not for the other turtles there? Why would they even be there if they weren't at least close friends?

Donnie leaves the main hold of the Tank, retreating to the taxi that tops the huge vehicle, where he'd more or less built something of a nest, woven of cables and blankets. It's a bit of a snug space, but oddly comfortable. He doesn't even bother crawling in all the way, one foot sticking up over the edge, talons visible from the open window. He lies half-curled on his side, hugging the gift he'd found outside, the staff he'd requested from Jayce, claws curled around the note that had been with it, those four simple words warming him more than the lasagna recipe, a tiny ember against the inexplicably cold loneliness that feels like it's just trying to slowly swallow him up.


III. So I inflict the conflict with the utmost of intention
((OOC: Catch-All/Choose Your Own Adventure if you had something in mind and wanted to bother the purple lad!))

Comments

II

[wereperrito]

Jack is still stuck in the form of a very large wolf-dog, albeit one with silvery blue-gray fur and six tails, and a bit of phantom fire crackling from his paws. But with Leo upset, he decides he needs to check in on Donnie, too.

He comes up to the tank and sniffs up in the direction of the claw dangling off. "Donnie?" he calls up, sitting back on his haunches.

[purplexing]

A talon twitches in response. He hadn't been asleep, tired as he'd felt, but he's not sure he'd heard his name or if he'd imagined it, so unfocused as he'd been. It's tempting to just lie there, but in the end he forces himself to sit up, pulling his feet in so he can gather them beneath him to push himself closer to the window to peer out.

Donnie blinks down at the wolf almost blearily. If he's supposed to know who this is, he has no idea. "...mm?"

[wereperrito]

Well, Jack knows most people haven't seen him in this shape, so he doesn't expect to be recognized right off the bat. "It's Jack," he says, as if fully expecting Donnie to know who he is once he introduces himself. The six tails and the voice should hopefully make it clear, paired with the name... if Donnie hasn't forgotten literally everyone, and not just Leonardo. "Everything all right?"

[purplexing]

It takes him a moment to match the voice to name, and it helps that it's offered given he has no idea how many other six-tailed creature-fied people there might be around here. There used to be some other person who had turned into a tiny fox, after all.

"Oh... hey Jack," Donnie says, draping an arm over the edge of the window as he leans against the edge of his cable-blanket nest. He glances away as he considers the question.

"...all right as can be, I guess."

[wereperrito]

Jack cocks his head, ears skewed with concern. "All right as you can be? Did something happen?" He's guessing something did, given Leo's gloom, but he hadn't asked the other turtle-boy for a lot of details. "Or is it just, er, everything." There is a lot of things all the time, around here, after all.

[purplexing]

The turtle hesitates.

"...I..." He frowns, looking uncertain about how to even go about describing anything.

"Something's...off. I'm not sure how to deal with it." His claws tighten around the edge of the taxi's window.

"Jack, am I supposed to consider Leo...family?"

[wereperrito]

Jack pauses, tails flicking and ears shewing further in confusion, now. If there is one thing everyone knows about the turtle boys it's that they're family. "You have always called each other brothers," he says after a pause. "Do you... not remember that?"

That would definitely make Leo upset.

[purplexing]

Donnie's brow furrows at that, clearly disturbed.

"I know he keeps calling me brother..." he says, shaking his head. "And I know I remember being with him and the other turtles and dad but..."

It doesn't feel like anything. It's terrifying. How can something so intangible be missing?

"There should be a connection, right? But there isn't."

[wereperrito]

Jack considers a moment. It happened recently, he knows that, whatever happened to cause this change. He's seen Leo and Donnie both in the city, so it had to have happened here. "It may be... some affect of the city we're in," he offers. "There were those plants before, that made us feel each other's emotions or share each other's dreams. And the dog statue turned me into this, instead of my usual shape." He lifts a paw in demonstration. "Maybe something here changed your memories. Your, er, feelings."

[purplexing]

"...it was the statue. The one at the top of the building."

Donnie runs a hand across his face, his breath quickening. "I-it required a 'sacrifice of blood and identity' - to get something to reverse the transformations... But I didn't think it could do something like..like that."

[wereperrito]

Oh no. Jack shifts on the ground, wishing he were up there. Or Donnie were down here. He can't lean on him or curl around him or lick his face! (Well, okay, he probably wouldn't lick his face.)

"That has to be so hard. I'm sorry, Donnie," he says. "Maybe it will come back after we leave the area?" He has no idea if sacrifice plays like that follow the same pattern as the monster changes.

[purplexing]

Please don't lick his face. Although he's probably already past his unsettled limits to be any more or less bothered by that.

He leans against the padded confines of the makeshift roost, shaking his head. Maybe if he hadn't talked to Leo then he wouldn't have known- but that would have been impossible. He'd still remembered that he'd gotten the elixir for the other turtle. And it wasn't like either of them knew the extent of what had been taken.

Could it come back? Donnie doesn't know. He's unfamiliar with such mechanics when it comes to sacrifices. Usually those are so much more straight-forward. "Sacrifices don't usually mean something temporary, do they?" This wasn't like skipping meals for a diet or something.

He pushes away from the window, vanishing within the taxi for a moment. Maybe he should boost the moon-roof installation higher on his list; getting in and out through the windows is a bit more difficult with his new bone spikes on his shell. But soon the Tank hatch opens near where Jack is, Donnie starting down, but also not looking like he's going to pause for pleasantries either. He's anxious, and by the fluffing of his wings, seeking a means of escape.

[wereperrito]

"I don't know. I haven't ever tried any of them, following this place's rules," Jack admits, but then Donnie's gone, and he's half-sure he's upset him.

Then the boy stalks out of the tank entirely, and he's all the way sure. He falls in beside him, not touching, but within reach should Donnie decide petting the wolf-dog will make him feel better. "At least you know what happened," he offers. "That's better than not knowing what's going on."

ii! (cw: mentions of attempted suicide, continued ideation)

[hexrot]

[ jayce doesn't know how he should return to the convoy when he hadn't planned on returning at all. it felt less like salvation and more like infuriating, humiliating defeat. it hadn't helped (or maybe it had?) that jayce had run into leo just as he flew down the stairs of one of the city's abandoned buildings in a sobbing, fractured mess of blood and life. exactly that: life. jayce is living, now. skin a warm tan and no fetid open wounds to be seen.

it takes a while for him to gather his guts to go back to his truck rather than sink into the convoy's bathroom after washing up, cleaning his antlers— now a pristine bone-white, despite his right branch remaining snapped through the middle (wherever he fucking goes he can't not be reminded of him and what he does to him, fuck). the truck was where he'd left it; the keys still in the ignition, clothes neatly tucked on the passenger seat and hammer stored with the forge. then there was . . . one more thing to check on. the only note he'd left behind.

now that he's here, he owes him— and even if he's in a poor state of mind, it felt even worse to stay silent about the brothers when fate had wedged jayce right between them.

he's learning to believe, fairly quickly, that fate is a cunning, merciless bastard.

jayce quietly brings himself to the turtle tank where donnie sits, limping a little more strongly now that his muscles have calmed from what he certainly shouldn't have gone up and down eight stories, especially not down as fast as he did. if it weren't for the brace, he probably wouldn't even be standing. he owes him. he especially owes him now, a terrible guilt raking up his frame for not having stopped donnie when he perhaps should have, despite it not being fair and it being terribly hypocritical. he's just—

a walking trainwreck that helps destroy everything. families, partnerships, the world, brothers— he needs to make something right, now, while he's forced to pick up the pieces of himself and glue it back together. if he doesn't— jayce is certain he'll find another high place to throw himself off of. that'd just be the straw to break his back: that he was a failure not worth fixing. unfixable, even.

it takes a few moments more for jayce to say anything at all. he hovers, picks and scratches at his wrist and the stone embedded there, until finally, his voice cracks, hoarse and gravely in a way that he wishes didn't give away so much of his uncertainty. ]

Hey, Whiz.

[purplexing]

[Donnie blinks, lifting his head to look out the window. He scrubs the back of a hand across his eyes, not that he remembers crying, but he must have dozed off at some point. The note's still clutched in his claws.]

...Jayce?

[Once his vision focuses it's easy to identify the figure below. But there are differences, and while they seem to be good differences than from what he remembers of the man last, he still can't help but look a little confused.]

[hexrot]

[ at the very least, confusion is valid. jayce would be, too. especially when he wouldn't have gotten the elixir for himself, was reluctant to. it felt like an easy way to bypass the pain that he perhaps deserved. he was also too selfish and doubtful to provide sacrifice, in fear of losing even more of who he was. so jayce speaks, perhaps without thought: ]

In the flesh. [ only to have his arms fall to his sides in a drop that wished he'd just not let that one slide. anyway— ] Mind if I join you?

[purplexing]

[There are so many questions he has, but for once his overthink is stuck on cycling them than trying to reason out answers.

His expression is a bit pained at that response, but his brow softens at the request.

...Leo hadn't seemed particularly interested in coming up to his...well, Donnie supposes it is a nest. And for the life of him he can't really fathom why he'd cared so much then. But Jayce wants to come up, and Donnie doesn't want to be alone. He gives him a nod, tapping at his bracer console to have the Turtle Tank's hatch open.]

You'll have to come up through the inside. It might be snug, but...it should be okay.

[hexrot]

I'm used to making myself smaller.

[ all those days where broad shoulders and tall stature might intimidate people or take up too much space, and jayce was the first to shrink his shoulders, or bring his legs together. anything to be more approachable. his antlers might get in the way (correction: one antler), but if he ducks a little more than usual, he won't scrap anywhere he shouldn't on the way up. so in he goes, metal clicking and clacking and he makes his way from the inside to the top nest.

he'll sit himself wherever there's room, proximity close, but at least . . . jayce doesn't seem too bothered. he doesn't have to worry about being too cold, jarring or putridly gross. the price for that makes his ears flatten completely as he settles in next to donnie. ]

Nice staff.

[ he tries to joke, but even his own tone showers as completely melancholy. the reason he'd left it here rather giving it directly to donnie in the first place was cowardly. he hadn't been planning to face the consequence of that. here he was, unsure of what to say to it. ]

[purplexing]

[Raph had been able to fit and even if that had been a couple years back, his older brother had still been six feet tall and with a shoulder breadth of at least two of his brothers side-by-side, so Donnie's pretty sure Jayce can manage. He still scoots to the side of the opening to allow the other room to climb in.

He's watching all the while as Jayce reorients himself and gets himself settled in. The differences are clear, and while it's confusing, Donnie's grateful for a good number of things.

He'd curled around the staff again, knees drawn up as much as his weird bird feet would allow, in some subconscious effort to make himself smaller. The comment makes him loosen up a little as he glances down at the collapsed piece of metal, a faint smile warming his expression a couple of notches.]

Thanks. ...the guy who made it's kind of cool, I guess.

[If there'd been any implications to be picked up from the gift had been left there for him, Donnie hadn't picked up on them. He's not terribly good at that. But now those gears start to turn, what with Jayce's somewhat restored state. His tone was all wrong...

He hesitantly lifts his gaze back towards the not-quite-draugr again, brow knitting in some concern for a problem he hadn't realized might have been there, might still be there. It only feeds back into his earlier spiral, making him swallow as he tightens up his position again.]

[hexrot]

[ jayce gives a wistful smile, short and only briefly with a breath that eases past his black-tainted nostrils as he settles down next to the teen, adjusting legs and brace to hang comfortably. with one hand in another, jayce rubs at his palms, falling into a regrettable silence as the air begins to weigh between them. heavy. knowing, almost, and after a moment more the inconvincience of not knowing what to say, jayce begins to absently scrape at the webbed scars on his wrist around the embedded stone in its middle. scratches at the elevation becomes a rub of the pad of his thumb over the smoother crystal surface, before . . . his nails dig in, slow and prickling around the skin there. he's marked by him in so many ways, not even in times of quiet could he escape the thoughts always hovering back to him.

it takes a few moments of trying to compose words, phrases in his head that may or may not leave his tongue (he thinks, and perhaps overthinks now), and eventually settles on a quiet, almost awkward: ]

I . . . Ran into Leo, earlier.

[ he sure as hell isn't going to focus on himself. jayce was a fixer— and everything about himself right now just blares too broken to fix. the brothers, though, he was in some way involved with them. he has affection for them. when his lively amber gold eyes fall on the staff he forged, he remembers the affection put into it— jayce never half assed his creations. this thing was a beauty, as perfect as can be for donnie's grip, balance, and even ingenuity. the weapons were seamlessly hidden and flick out like claws with the proper press. its intuitive and genius. everything that was good about jayce made into parting gift as a token of his appreciation for having wormed his way into his fondness. was it cowardly of him, to have left it without giving donnie any personal satisfaction? he feels shame, now. barely looks at the harpy beyond a grave pinch of his brows.

he's certain fixing their troubles was something he'd have more success in. he owed them as much (and maybe he wouldn't feel like complete, utter shit, if he could help bring together something he felt like he was the wedge to). ]

[purplexing]

[Donnie had been impressed by the workmanship. The only weapons he'd ever owned were either old traditional ones his father owned or those he'd crafted with his own hands. He's extremely critical about technical pieces but then he's never had someone actually make something for him, not like this. It's beautiful, sleek and the weight so nicely balanced, the mechanisms work smoothly and even with the extension of the blade it hadn't offset things terribly. It's perfect.

Some people may hug teddy bears or something for comfort. Donnie curls even more around the collapsed staff at the mention of Leo's name as he looks away again.

It shouldn't bother him, but it does. The response itself from him doesn't reveal much, but it's clear there's something to it. Maybe it's better than nothing at all. If Donnie just didn't care, it wouldn't be eating at him like this.]

...how is he..?

[hexrot]

[ jayce measures his words, but in the end its a little fruitless— he's a terrible liar. but perhaps one thing he has learned is how to make the truth work in your favor. so what he says is gently-put, honesty and a test, all at once. ]

He misses his brother. [ it is a focal point of discomfort for donnie, but not the kind that should be ignored. especially with jayce's involvement, he feeled like he owed this, now. ] What do you remember about him?

[purplexing]

[Well. That makes two of them who are terrible liars. Maybe it's a scientist thing.

If he could possibly curl up any tighter, he would. He'd hide behind the slim piece of metal he clings to.]

...it's not like I've forgotten him.

[It's fact, it shouldn't hurt to admit, but admitting it just admits to other things, things he can't ignore.]

I messed up. Miscalculated and now...I... I don't know.

I think I'm broken.

[hexrot]

[ jayce's arm immediately goes out to touch the teen's arm, it's warm, for once. ]

No, you're not— We'll fix this.

[ he doesn't know how' yet, if there's some sort of trigger needed. another elixir wouldn't do. maybe they need time, or reminders— hell, jayce would list and catalogue the whole process to try and figure it out.

it doesn't have to be alone; and if it's something donnie can think about, that's what they should be doing. ]

How do we isolate the error in a formula and run it again?

[purplexing]

[While Donnie normally isn't crazy about physical touch, he can't help but lean in towards it. Internally he longs for it, that comfort, that warmth and support. He just doesn't want to be alone anymore.]

I've already been isolated.

[Leo left... The words aren't spoken, but Jayce will hear them clearly, the thoughts that slip from Donnie's mind, along with some of the anguish he's been drowning in.

No...I left him first...]

The error is me, the connections are missing. The data's there, all my memories, but when I think of dad, it's so much different than if I think about...the other turtles. Like...they're just there. They're people I know. But it can't just be that. I've been with them since we were created. I know it has to be more but... i-it's just not there.