route666rp | A time to build up, a time to break down

Entry tags:

A time to build up, a time to break down

Who: Donnie, Edward and Root
What: A meeting of minds and maybe some surgery (no not really. ~~probably~~)
When: Mid-this-month
Where: By the farmhouses, the Turtle Tank
Warnings: N/A

Things take time. it's been by contrast a quieter couple of weeks so far, and Donnie's welcoming of it. Although he's let himself give in to instinct earlier, he's been pointedly trying to handle more mind-oriented tasks, things he's been used to doing and just hadn't had much of a chance to do what with this world tending to like throwing things at them.

It had been difficult making use of the forge that was a constant reminder of Jayce's absence, but Donnie wanted it to be used, and he felt that Jayce would have wanted it too. He's made more progress in the prosthetic Edward had requested of him, so really, it was now mostly getting things connected.

The Turtle Tank serves as Donnie's workshop, the hatch open for the fresh air and the light, but he's brought over some sawhorses and planks from the nearby barn to set up as a worktable and dragged one of the bins full of scavenged cyborg parts over beside it, just in case he needs anything.

Honestly, it feels good to be doing things like this again. It helps him exercise his use of his ninpō again as well, conjuring up power tools of neon purple light so he can weld things into place and clean up seamlines. He's probably skipped a meal or two again, but that's just more proof that he's acting more like normal.

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Edward has been appreciating the downtime too. After all the horror and trauma of the carnival, being in quiet farm country has been a godsend. It's a chance for everyone to recoup, readjust, and connect with all their old friends who were also stuck in the carnival from hell.

It is also a time for new things to be born, and it's with that thought in mind that Edward brings Root around to the Turtle Tank. He does genuinely believe she and Donnie will like each other!

"Remember, Donnie is the one in purple."

With that important fact re-established, Edward steps around the Tank, rapping his knuckles on its side to alert Donnie to their approach.

"Donnie? I have someone here I'd like you to meet."

Root shoots him a look that manages to be simultaneously amused and exasperated - as if she'd forget such a simple detail! - and puts on a sunny smile. Her own grief and trauma from the carnival is buried deep - not ignored, not at all, but she doesn't have to show it.

"Hi," she says brightly, crossing her arms over her chest to (hopefully) avoid being invited to shake hands. "Our mutual friend here says you're into computers. Have you discovered darknets yet?"

So sorry about her, Donnie.

Thankfully they come around when there's a lapse in the noise. Donnie lifts his head at the sound, his goggles still lowered, giving him the vague appearance of a mad scientist. he shoves them up, smiling curiously at Edward's announcement.

"Hey Ed. And...other person."

He tilts his head, one hand still holding a glowing welding tool that doesn't look at all like it should be tangible, the other resting on the length of a curved metal spider leg.

"Oh I love computers. Not all that accessible here, of course. I cobbled together one from what I scavenged off the cyborg vehicles...and the cyborgs themselves, because I did not want to try connecting to any questionable networks with my own. Pro-tip, the networks are cursed, no darknets so far as I can tell but probably because no one's alive and sane enough to make use of them."

“I understood exactly none of that.”

Edward sounds mildly exasperated but more amused. He gestures between the two of them before drifting off towards that spider leg.

“Root, Donnie, and Donnie, Root. You clearly have quite a bit to discuss.”

"Not here," Root says to Donnie, frowning - as if she thinks that should have been obvious; as if she's a little offended that he thought she meant anything else. "At home. I was only a few years younger than you when I started dabbling in blackhat stuff."

The rest of the intel - a cursed network? - is filed away, to ruminate over and follow up on later. The network is likely an extension of what brought them here, and what brought them here, she suspects, is neither a useful tool nor a friend. It will take a very specific approach.

Ah, the aforementioned tech-aficianado Edward had mentioned. Donnie frowns at her response, effectively shutting up from saying anything back, if only to consider how to take that. If that was an icebreaker for conversation then he has no idea how to take the follow-up. After being here for months why would anyone ask him about home? Ah, there goes his overthink.

He's not sure if she's showing off or just trying to be annoying either, but then he's never been good with such things when people were involved so he gives her as typical a response as one cam expect from a sixteen year old who thinks they've been mildly insulted, an eye-roll.

"So, what, you want applause or something? I'm not recounting my potentially questionable internet activities. Not that you'd be able to trace me. The thing about not existing legally is that it just makes it more challenging trying to do things like normal people, so the less they know, the better."

His family may not understand the lengths and work he's put into making sure they can't be found, that they can be safe, but he prides himself in having done so for all these years.

Donnie looks over at Edward, letting the welder vanish, dissipating in pixelated light. "I think it's just about done. The tricky part is figuring out how complex we want to be for connecting it."

Edward doesn’t move his head to look up—there’s no need—but his brow does wrinkle a bit and he sends a very specific hive mind thought to Root.

Be nice

Given his proximity to Donnie, that might transmit to him as well, although it’s unintentional if it does. When he does speak up out loud, it’s to ask about the leg.

“What are the options?” He quirks a tiny smile at him. “You may find this hard to believe, but my ideas on how it might attach are likely very primitive.”

Root sends back the mental equivalent of a :( emoticon - that is to say, performative sadness. Truthfully, Donnie is right on all counts: she's purposefully being smug, purposefully being annoying, and trying for a genuine icebreaker. If this kid is anything like she was, dipping toes into hacking from an early age, then she really does want to know about it.

"Are we here to talk shop about prosthetics, or are we here to swap stories about life in the shadows? One of these is more interesting than the other."

Donnie just gives Edward a frown at that, even if it's not something the man-spider can see. Why should he be nice when she started it!

"You tell me," he says as he glances back at Root, which unfortunately might be difficult to tell that he's genuinely not sure since by default his tone tends to be on the sarcastic side. He looks back at Edward before lifting up the leg he's fashioned.

If he'd had the metals like he had for this, he would have made a better brace for Jayce, but it had still been appreciated, cobbled together as it was from furniture pieces. But this, this leg's outer structure has been completely made from scratch, shaped with all the care that Donnie usually puts into his projects. The inner workings had made use of the best of the salvaged parts he'd gotten from the cyborg limbs, but he had to stop himself from going too far, taking into account the fact that Edward's expectations of a prosthetic might be completely different from his own. He could make things better, but it wasn't any good if things were too fancy or risky for the actual person who would be using it.

"Well...I did consider that," he says in response to Edward's admission. "And honestly, it might be better to keep it simple, particularly because I do not really have a working knowledge of how spider legs function internally, and mostly because even if you I did and you were okay with surgery-" (What, Donnie) - "We don't have anywhere I'd feel comfortable attempting it, much less the necessary equipment."

Oh god, they're the same.

Edward has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling, but they're both likely to get his response:

:)

Look at that, Granddad has learned emojis.

"I don't see why we can't do both. I certainly won't interrupt stories about life in the shadows, unless you'd both like to be depressed with tales about, ah, what is the term... life in the wardrobe in 1917."

Nailed it.

He does shake his head at the idea of surgery. "No, thank you. Some leather straps and buckles should suit me nicely. I'd like to be able to get it on and off on my own."

It takes her a moment - wardrobe? - but then she gets it, and it's adorable. Granddad indeed.

"Look at that, we really do have a lot in common," Root says breezily, though the bulk of her attention is on the salvage now. On the whole, hacking is still more interesting than prosthetic work, though the mention of the turtle kid performing surgery himself does balance out the scales a bit more. She has neither need nor interest in letting anyone here poke around her implant, but should that ever change...

"If you did have the space and equipment for it," she says, glancing at Donnie, "could you do it?"

Wh- is that... did Edward just transmit a smiley emoji?! Donnie stares a moment at him. And even more so as it also takes him a moment to work out the wardrobe thing. A 'pff' escapes him before he can quite stop it.

"No, I figured as much. So it's mostly a matter of calibrating a pressure pad of sorts, and the best way to keep it comfortably attached. I've got some ideas at least, but I still wanted to make sure it fits so far."

The turtle blinks then, looking over at Root, his expression hesitant at the question. "...uncertain," he admits. "There's too many factors to consider. I've...never actually performed any surgery so I'm sure practice will be a lot different from theory since everything's basically been self-taught. And then there's the type of surgery." He pauses, glancing briefly in Edward's direction because he's already touched on this concern with him before. "...and then there's the whole matter of whether I remember enough of myself to be able to do anything that complex."

Well, that was surprisingly easy! And the non-reaction is refreshing; being told people don't care about such things any longer is one thing, but having it confirmed by one person you trust implicitly and another who confesses similar feelings is the confirmation Edward needs.

Both of them will get a brief but extremely warm and genuine gush of gratitude. Root's will be followed with a mental stick drawing of two women holding hands, with a ??? after it. Much like two men being together, Edward hadn't been aware that was an option.

"A pressure pad would be lovely. To be honest with you, Donnie, I'd be happy with a simple peg leg. I could stomp around the convoy like a spider Captain Ahab."

But then Donnie tells them about why he's reluctant to perform surgery, and Edward gets it. They've talked about this before, and he knows how much it plagues the turtle. Edward reaches out and puts his hand on the prosthetic leg, close to one of Donnie's.

"I have full confidence in your abilities. If you think it's necessary, you can perform surgery on me." He pats the spider leg. "I may insist on having Arcade there as well, though, if he can be convinced to play at being a veterinarian for a bit."

He believes in Donnie, but Edward is also aware he's a teenager who hasn't operated on anyone before, versus the one person in the convoy who has. He'll submit to surgery, but he wants Donnie to have some backup.

Edited 2025-11-17 13:07 (UTC)

Root is very accustomed to having more than one conversation going on at once: she can't count the number of times that she's been speaking to someone face-to-face while also listening to the Machine in her ear, often while also needing to keep an eye out for danger in her surroundings. Compared to that, following along with the surgery talk while simultaneously sharing mental pictures with Edward is easy-peasy. In her imagery, the two stick women lean towards each other, circular faces pressed together for a kiss, a red heart scrawled over their heads. Just to make it crystal clear what she means here.

But other imagery leaks in, too: the woman she'd seen in the stands at the carnival, a bone-deep love equal to a bone-deep grief. She compartmentalizes herself well, though. The part of her that feels this fully isn't suppressed or ignored in any way, but it's completely partitioned off from the part of her that continues chatting. Root's mental firewalls are magnificent.

"An assistant, a suitable surgical suite, and equipment," Root says, ticking off each item on her fingers. "That's a big wishlist."

Donnie bats at the air abruptly like he could wave away those excess emotions coming off of Edward like a flustered cat, if however brief. He's more embarrassed than annoyed, really, and it is still weird having other people's emotions thrown at him.

"Heh! I could have done something simple like a peg leg but why. It'd drag and be clunky, and I didn't want to make something that'd just make more interference for your vibration sensing."

He glances down at Edward's hand as it's set there, giving it the quickest nudge of acknowledgement. "I don't think surgery will be necessary if you feel comfortable enough with working this leg without a direct connection. -is Arcade more experienced in that sort of thing? I'd probably defer to his expertise in that case."

Donnie nods as Root makes a list. "We came across an abandoned hospital a few months back but I wouldn't have wanted to try doing anything in there. Gravity was kind of dysfunctional in places, rooms and furniture were warped, and yet somehow the emergency containment system for monster patients was still functional enough to try sedating us and locking us up. So as much as it pains me to even suggest it, it's probably better to go lo-tech for matters like this. And avoid having to do any in-depth procedures."

Donnie batting at the air catches Edward's attention, and he flushes.

"Sorry, sorry." With that, there is the faint mental sound of a door closing and latching, and Donnie should, hopefully, be shielded from any further random emojis or emotions.

To Root, she gets another smile emoji when she makes the stick figures move, and then a simple line drawing of a heart in return. The images of the other woman, though, and the depth of Root's feelings for her, come through loud and clear. Edward didn't notice her in the stands--she was too far away, and it was too chaotic--but he understands the pain of being separated. Sympathy and understanding waft over to her, brought on clouds of acrid cigarette smoke and the feeling of strong but gentle hands on arms and elbows. The smoke smell dies away fairly quickly though, replaced by echoes of a man's voice, with a distinctive accent which is decidedly not British.

And when Edward realises what he's projected, Root is subjected to the closing door as well. Maybe Donnie shouldn't have been so quick to decline the broadcast, he could have just gotten a fresh piece of convoy gossip.

Back to the leg. "Arcade patched me up immediately after I got hurt. He said there wasn't anything he could do for my human leg, but he kept the spider one from bleeding out. I have no idea what his skill level is with complicated surgeries, though."

At the mention of the hospital, Edward blanches and starts shaking his head. "No, absolutely not. I'll use a crutch and the spider body forever before I'll submit to anything at a hospital like that one."

Donnie's batting at the air also earns him a condescending smile from Root. Sorry, boys; she's just Like This^TM. Edward, on the other hand, gets another mental :). A dismissively glib response to his sympathy, perhaps, but she also means it as a weird sort of kindness: she sees his own accidental mental leak, she sees his strong desire to keep it private, and she is decidedly not asking.

"I love hearing about all this stuff we have in common," she says, breezily. "Can't say I'm the biggest fan of hospitals or involuntary commitment, either. But that's two for two on awful stops - have there been any pleasant ones?"

What's with that smile? Donnie's not sure what Root means by it but he doesn't like it, frowning back at her.

"Can I uh...have a look at your leg?" he asks Edward as he turns his attention back to his spider buddy. "So I'll have a better idea of how to prep the attachment."

It's difficult for him not to roll his eyes again as Root speaks up. "I'm not either, sorry the subjects don't interest you but please, if you have better then no one's stopping you from offering your own contributions."

"That smile was for me, Donnie."

Kids, stop arguing! Edward is starting to feel like a suburban mom with two overly tired toddlers in the backseat of her wood-panelled minivan, whining about wanting McDonald's and on the verge of a simultaneous meltdown. Or he would, if he had any concept for most of those things.

"Of course." He settles himself onto the bench next to Donnie and offers up the injured leg. It's been wrapped but is not entirely healed yet, as evidenced by the splotches of blue insect blood on the bandages.

"The stop in the desert with the libraries wasn't all bad." Edward shrugs his shoulders. "I made a web in a canyon and stayed in that for a few days. It was surprisingly relaxing. Too hot, though."

Root wisely does not jump in to point out that, no, the condescension was definitely for Donnie. But - while leaning over to get a good look at Edward's leg herself - she does say, "I wasn't being sarcastic about the enforced hospital stay; it really is something we all have in common. I'd take a canyon web over repeating that experience, though."

Well, he is an actual kid- really, what did you expect from a teenager, Edward?

Donnie tries not to wince as he has a closer look at the bandaged joint. "I think I still have some bandages. I'm going to unwrap this to have a look, and then I'll change them out if that's okay with you. Um, also going to look at one of your other legs, so head's up there." Edward is always thoughtful enough to usually let him know when he's going to touch him, so Donnie's trying to remember to do the same.

"Actually I've never really stayed in a hospital. Off the grid, remember?" he can't help but clarify as he works. "I guess the canyon wasn't too bad though. The library was amazing, if we had to stay anywhere I would've opted for there. Didn't care for the heat though, too dry. Vince found a nice spot with a stream but then he started trying to play monster house so I left. ...but I think that's because something messed with his head too."

"The canyon was actually lovely. If you'd like me to build you a web sometime, I'd be happy to do so, Root." He assumes that, since she's also a drider, she has a drive towards webs and hanging out in them, even if she can't make her own yet. He'd make one for Donnie too, if he asked, but he's assuming Donnie is less enthralled by the concept.

"Of course." Edward helpfully lifts one of his healthy legs and sets it next to the injured one. "I'm unable to shift back to my human form as of yet, but when I regain that, would it be possible to make one for that form as well?"

It's a big ask, he knows, but it's also a big fat science challenge, which he figures Donnie may appreciate.

Donnie mentioning Vincent playing monster house makes Edward break out in unexpected laughter. "He was so annoyed when he realised you left, Donnie. He went to look for you again immediately."

The mention of someone trying to play house with him earns Donnie a sympathetic wince (this from the woman who, back at home, set up a cozy bedroom nook for herself in her team's abandoned subway station base - but shhhhh, we're not talking about that).

"Let's make me a web and see if it awakens anything in me," Root says breezily; she is, after all, still early on enough in her transformation that her spider instincts are still just faint whispers rather than actual drives. "Vincent isn't invited, though."

Not that Edward's injury is the worst he's seen. Donnie just has to push himself past the whole spider leg part, but it helps that it's not as messy as one would expect of an amputated human leg. He conjures up some calipers with a digital display, neon purple light appearing in the air by his hand to trace out the shape, and for the electronic part, everything from the inside out until closed off as each piece is completed.

He takes a few measurements with it, nodding to himself. "Was he? I mean, he sure sounded it when I found him again to give him the water that'd fix his memories," he says with a snort, tone flat as one can expect from a teenager having to deal with an overbearing parental figure. "Anyway, the other prosthetic should be no problem. I'd just have to get measurements when you're back in that form so I don't make the leg too high or something."

Looking around, he shrugs and hands off the mystic calipers to Root with a, "Hang on to those for a sec, yeah?" so he can jot down numbers and then clean up that leg before he starts rebandaging. He doesn't think there should be much difference to it once it's healed up but he's no expert on spider limbs so wants to measure the healthier one to make sure there's no swelling or something. The tool itself doesn't weigh a thing, and just faintly warm, like touching an LED bulb that's only been on for a for a few minutes.

"Careful about the 'awakening' part, you might get more than you're bargaining for," he says while he works, though he snickers a little at the mention of Vincent. Poor guy, he'll never live that down.

Okay, good, everyone is getting along now.

"I doubt you'd have any competition from Vincent for it." The fact that she's willing to entertain the idea at all? Giirrrrl, you're a spider, those whispers are going to ramp up into drives soon enough. "When we're done here, I'll go make you one and you can test it out."

He moves his legs as Donnie requests, cooperating so he can get his measurements.

"No, Donnie, she's like me, not a cat." Edward snickers too, before turning back to Root. "Vincent is normally very stoic. It was out of character for him to be so fussed about others in the convoy.

We'll see how long that lasts, Edward. Root is still committed to being herself in this conversation, completely and unapologetically. No attempts at playacting a more agreeable persona here.

"Oh, I'm aware. He was a laugh-riot when we spoke." By which she means the exact opposite, of course. "I'm familiar with the type."

She manages to say it without betraying any of the pain behind the words. Edward might still feel a pang of it, though.

Unaware of whatever sort of emotions Root might be having, Donnie continues with his own task at hand. Once he's done with the measurements, he sets to work in getting Edward's leg bandaged up again.

"Well that sounds like a fascinating bit of an arts and crafts. Let me know how that goes. And if it's possible for spiders to get caught in their own web."

Edward gets that pang, all right. His facial expression doesn't change, but he sends Root a single ? when he receives it.

"He's not the most humorous person in the convoy, but he's a good man. He was kind, in his own way, when I first arrived here and didn't have my vibrations yet." He gestures with a free hand at Donnie. "So were you."

As for spiders getting caught in their own webs, Edward laughs out loud at the thought. "I've never gotten caught in one of my own, but then, I've never tried to climb in someone else's, either. This may be a bit of an experiment."

He sends a quick message to Root. no sticky web lines for you :)

Edward gets a mental :) in response to his ?. She's fine! All good here!! Don't worry about it!!!

She feels no shame over her feelings, nor over her grief. There's no repression here: just a healthy dose of armor that she doesn't want to let slip too much right now. Her unruffled expression remains fully in place.

"This is a communal little convoy," she says, looking between the two of them. "I have to say, I don't think I'm going to fit in well."

Donnie ducks his head at that. Embarrassed about being called kind? Maybe! It is not a descriptor he's ever really considered applicable to himself. Still, the brief brush of emotion Edward might get from him is still in the warm, positive spectrum, even if tinted by that embarrassment.

"What, don't play well with others? Couldn't tell." Ah, but it's too easy to slip fully into sarcastic mode with Root, it seems. "Well unfortunately even the lone wolves will have to acclimate with the rest of this little society if we're going to get through this place in one piece. Not saying you have to be joined at the hip to anyone, there's more than enough opportunity to have your own space."

It is Edward's right--nay, his duty!--as Donnie's weird quasi-uncle-brother?-spider-thing to embarrass him on occasion. He will, however, give Donnie his dignity and not smother him with an affection wave after he picks up that brush of emotion. All that comes back is a quick little touch of golden yellow. You're important to him too, buddy.

"You're being overly negative." It's a gentle criticism, but Edward chides Donnie nonetheless before turning back to Root. "I didn't believe I'd fit in well, either, when I first arrived here. You'll find people to be far more accepting than you'd imagine."

Then he smiles. "You'll find that suddenly sprouting new arms in front of someone while clinging to the side of a building made of meat has a way of bonding people."

It's interesting to hear them both landing on very different interpretations of her words: Donnie assuming that she's saying she doesn't like being around other people, and Edward assuming that she's saying she doesn't expect people to like or accept her. And if she's really, truly honest with herself (which she does try to be)...

Well. They're both right, in a way.

"Acclimate. Is that what you've done?" she asks Donnie, playfully. "I'm used to having a whole planet at my disposal. There's nothing like being able to skip town when you need a change of scenery."

"How was that negative??" Donnie blurts.

He huffs, glaring at Root then. Edward will feel something else from him, the heat of anger, mixed with something else. Donnie wouldn't be able to describe, much less label it himself, but that comment from Root does seem like a low blow.

"We get by just fine. And so what if the farthest we've ever gone is by getting accidentally portaled to Tahiti, as much as it'd be cool to see the rest of the world- which I'm sure we'll do so, some day- New York's still home."

Edward opens his mouth to explain himself, but then he feels that waft of emotion off Donnie, and it's big and ugly and foreign, and it stops him in his tracks. He doesn't think Root intended to lob something out that would garner this level of reaction, but lob it out she has, and there needs to be some quick damage control.

He touches one of Donnie's hands, quick and brief, before turning his head so Root can see his face. His expression is solemn, and while not exactly angry, definitely not pleased either.

He's not angry, he's disappointed.

"Not everyone is capable of hiding in plain sight." He lifts a spider leg and waggles it in Root's direction. "And I wouldn't advise trying to leave the convoy, either, no matter how much you may miss having your own space. We don't know what else is out there, but it's likely less friendly than we are."

Root is a quick study of people, even though her moments of using that skill for good can be few and far between. Once Donnie reacts poorly to her comment, she near-immediately lands on a guess as to why, and her eyebrows shoot up in surprise.

He stands out from all the other people she's met here, in that he was different before he came here - physically different, in a very obvious, dramatic, unhideable away. That much has always been obvious. But it hadn't occurred to her that that was something he'd be sensitive about. It hadn't occurred to her that it's something he might not like.

"Being able to hide in plain sight has its downsides," she says to Donnie - not aggressively, but a little baffled. "You get to be completely yourself, all the time."

The feeling tones down to a simmer, but it still leaves Donnie with a little tangle of frustration.

It's not that he minds being who he is, he fully embraces being a humanoid turtle and the life they've made for themselves. But having someone so flippantly say they can just go anywhere they want just feels like it's being rubbed in his face that he can't particularly do the same.

Maybe she'd get a kick out of the fact that their typical method of blending in back home was to simply don a hoodie or if they were feeling fancy, a whole outfit.

"It's not really the hiding that's the issue. It's the doing things that you don't think are unusual because the options are always there for you. Maybe you don't want people to know who you are, but I wouldn't mind it. I just don't want some weirdos coming around bringing me and my family in for lab experiments or something stupid."

He fluffs his wings, shrugging as he turns to busy himself with getting things together to put away, tucking what's left of the bandage roll into his belt pouch.

"At least here, people have been more open-minded, but maybe that comes along with the whole territory of being displaced from your universe and being warped into monsters on top of things."

Root's reaction is the confirmation Edward needs; she wasn't intentionally poking a hornet's nest, she just didn't know it was there. In all fairness, this is new to Edward as well. He knows Donnie and his family have to hide, but not that they (or at least Donnie) want to be known. It tracks, though.

He can't speak for Root, but Edward would find it hilarious that wearing a hoodie is all it takes for the turtles to blend in, and probably make a comment or two about Americans.

"People here are certainly more open-minded. We only have each other to rely on, after all."

He shoots Root another little hive mind stick person video: it's two men, holding hands, with 1917 scrawled above them. Then a wall appears, pushing them apart, and she'll get a bit of the old despair of being different, of having to hide, from him as stick police come and put handcuffs on the two men before dragging them away.

"I'd like to think that this world shows us who we really are, once society has been stripped away."

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A time to build up, a time to break down

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