route666rp | What Was I Doing Again

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What Was I Doing Again

Who: Donnie and whoever!
What: Makin' stuff and inadvertent harpy-brain kicking in
When: That precious lull after the shield has been repaired
Where: Convoy; the Turtle Tank
Warnings: N/A
Notes: Will switch to bracket/action if that's your preference!

I. I Work with My Hands
Even with the shields back up, not even a somewhat more peaceful night's sleep promises that sleep will actually be taken advantage of, particularly not from an enterprising teenaged turtle. It only means that he can work on things without worrying about something unwelcome making way past the Convoy's perimeter.

...of course, with his brother sharing sleeping space within the Tank, it does mean he's limited to less noisy tasks in case that space is to be used.

The restless and the general insomniacs might find the harpy-winged turtle settled on top of the Tank, on the hood of the taxi cab that seems to be embedded into it. There are cables and wire coiled up beside him, and a few old sheets. Interestingly enough, it seems he's wrapping some of the cables around the sheets once he's got them loosely rolled, lengthwise. When he gets to the end, he uses a claw to cut the rest of the cable after he's secured it with wire, at which point he might instead be found halfway in the taxi to situate the reinforced blanket noodle, tucking things in here, weaving them together there.

...huh.

II. Crafty
Daytime means that he can be as noisy as he wants to be, and crafting parts from metal is not a quiet task. Once the Convoy's gotten themselves situated again after another day on the road, Donnie's set up shop beside his Tank. Given that the skies are cloudy in the near distance, he wants to try and get some of this scrap metal melted down so it's more suitable for working with.

This is done, not by a physical device, but a mystical one, as Donnie employs his ninpō to create an electric arc furnace. Sure, it's cutting corners but he's hardly going to complain if it'll do the trick. He might end up with a bit of a headache and a mighty need for a nap later but for now he's feeling pretty good despite having to hold the mystical constructs up while he brings out other boxes of parts and things, including one of various weapons he's gathered from previous cyborg engagements. He's always willing to offer anything to someone who might have better need for them.

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As it happens, Leo can feel his own sleep schedule inverting the longer he's here. He's always been an insomniac, with difficulty sleeping without the right conditions or when something's made him restless, and that's gotten worse here, with the nightmares and homesickness. But he appreciates that Donnie doesn't get too loud at night so he can at least try to sleep, even if a lot of his time on his mattress is spent tossing and turning.

He's not sure what Donnie has actually been up to, though. This has been a pretty ongoing project, and it's completely inscrutable to Leo.

He's returning now from having gone out into the wilderness for a bit with some others, scouting around for food or any other useful things. He wasn't super successful, though he does bring a few more mechanical bits and bobs, which he deposits now into Donnie's pile.

"Sooo... how's it going?"

"Relatively well so far. Although I think it's still too early to say for sure," Donnie admits, not looking up from rummaging around one of his collection boxes. "Unfortunately I don't have anything ideal for casting ingots so I'll have to improvise..."

Metal containers were harder still to come by, but maybe he can do with ceramic. He pulls out a couple of mugs and some shallow plates, either scavenged from the hospital or among the abandoned boats, setting them to the side. The process of getting to his feet is interrupted by a wince that has him sitting down again, rubbing at one of his lower legs.

Yep, he doesn't know anything about casting ingots, so that's par for the course. Leo is about to just say something about Donnie being a nerd and keep going so he can find something for dinner, but then Donnie winces as he tries to stand.

He takes a few steps closer, standing over Donnie now.

"Feet hurting again?"

"Been," Donnie grunts, knowing no amount of massaging is going to make the pain ease up. "At least mutations are more or less instantaneous. But it still scientifically makes no sense!" He snorts, looking at his toes where his nails have started to get longer and sharper. Bones shouldn't...elongate and twist, or grow extra parts to them-

"Guuuuh I really need to stop trying to break down the process," he mutters, shuddering.

Been? That can't be good.

"Yeah, no amount of overthink is going to fix this," he says, tone sympathetic. Donnie's feet must be changing back into those weird bird feet he had before, and Leo doesn't think he can do anything to ease it, this time.

Except... hm.

"Wait, hold on," says Leo, suddenly pivoting toward the entrance to the tank again. "Let me grab something."

No, overthinks only make it worse. Sometimes...it's terrible having the tendency to be overly analytical.

Donnie lifts his head as Leo turns away. What could he possibly be thinking? "Uh. Sure," he says as he watches his brother go off. In the meantime he'll try getting up- or not. Maybe sitting here for another second is fine.

He's not gone for long, only having gone into the tank to pilfer through his stuff. He returns only a couple minutes later, holding a piece of notebook paper tight in his hand.

"Here, look at this - it might help."

He hands off the paper, which, if Donnie looks at it, is a handwritten recipe for lasagna, written in a familiar, messy scrawl. Mikey's handwriting.

"I don't think it'll stop your feet from changing, but... well, when my shell was cracking, sometimes looking at this would make it feel better."

Donnie's rubbing at his feet again when Leo returns. He blinks, not at all sure where this is going. What's a piece of paper going to do for this situation?

He looks even more dubious when Leo explains, although he vaguely recalls something Leo had told him earlier on about it. Still, he takes the paper carefully, as though being handed a mint condition Jupiter Jim comic.

He knows Mikey's writing anywhere, but seeing it forms an unexpected knot in his throat. Ugh, and then there's that annoying sting in his eyes.

"Is this a diversion tactic?" he grumbles, but there's no heat to it as he tries to look as casual as he can about rubbing his eyes.

Leo will do him a favor by looking away at something off the other direction. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t cry when he saw this the first time.

“Maybe,” he says, sly grin only sticking around for a second. “But maybe not. When I found it the first time it held the cracks off for awhile. I don’t think it has that much power now, but…” He shrugs. “Well, never doubt Angelo’s magic.”

That totally wasn't a sniffle either.

"Heh. That's true..." Donnie says, breathing out a quiet laugh. And the pain does seem to have eased a little, inexplicable as it seems. But then maybe it's because of having some connection to themselves, something grounding. Something to remember who they are and what they're supposed to be.

(If Leo has to hear about research on the placebo effect he's never doing anything nice for Donnie again.)

Leo grins despite the emotional situation, happy that Donnie is happy. He'll give him a minute to gather himself, eyes roving over the tank until they alight on something he still doesn't quite understand.

Leo makes sure there isn't any more sniffling before he says, "Uh, sooo... what's up with the taxi, by the way?"

Now he's just hungry. Why'd it have to be a recipe of all things? Hopefully his stomach doesn't growl at the thought of a piping hot dish of lasagna.

"Huh?" Donnie blinks, lifting his head. It takes him a moment before he follows Leo's gaze over towards the top of the Tank.

"O-oh, that!" His wings fluff up a bit, almost like he's...embarrassed? "The weapons system isn't working so I...figured it'd be a nice space fooor a bed..?"

“…A bed.”

On the roof?! Leo has been tied to that roof before and he wouldn’t exactly label it “comfy”.

He looks back at Donnie, surprised at the feather ruffle. Donnie has more than just his eyebrows to tell his mood now (not that Leo ever really had that much trouble).

“Uh… you sure you don’t mean a roost?”

It's not on the roof! It's in the cab! Which...seems even less ideal given how cramped the space appears from their current perspective.

"...... Wh- No!" Donnie blurts, and then pauses as realization sinks in, eyes widening.

"Ohhhmywingspan you're right."

Leo points at him dramatically.

"And now you're inserting references to your wings into your nerdy phrases!" He pulls his hand back, shaking his head sadly. "You're going full bird, hermano."

"Shut up shut up shut up!!!" Donnie winces, smacking his hand away. How much bird is he actually? For all the weird changes, he hasn't quite figured out what sort of bird...creature he's supposed to be but it's still troubling to him that the behavior's been creeping up on him.

Alright, maybe Leo is being a little harsh. Also, he doesn't want to get smacked again.

"Hey, it's not a big deal," he says, trying to sound comforting. "Are birds really that different from turtles? I mean, we both... lay eggs? And... eat worms...?"

Except he and Donnie do neither of those things. Hm. Maybe he should rethink this...

Donnie looks even less convinced for Leo's attempts of reassurance. He starts to pull his knees in to hug- stopping short of doing so only so he can carefully place Mikey's recipe paper between them so he won't wrinkle it. Once his hands are freed, he resumes his intended position.

"Well I haven't had any cravings for worms at least," he says flatly. "And I do not even want to think about laying eggs."

Ah, so only Leo has been having weird cravings for things he shouldn't eat. He'll continue keeping that to himself.

"Well, on the bright side, you probably won't!"

Leo watches Donnie curl up, then rubs his hand over his face before coming over to sit down next to him.

"If you feel better sleeping in the taxi then sleep in the taxi," he says, matter-of-factly.

New cravings for specific nutrition has not been something Donnie had considered until now, so Leo's words make him even less certain about things, his head sinking lower between his shoulders.

"...it does feel better. Sometimes it just feels really...weird being in the Tank."

The last place Leo would expect Donnie to feel weird is the Tank - that’s his baby, after all. It’s definitely a surprise.

“Because it’s low to the ground, or…?”

"Maybe? And enclosed... I don't feel as off when I'm driving but if I'm in the back it just feels better at least having the rear hatch open." Donnie makes a face as he thinks about it.

"Might be an open air thing, huh? It... I don't know how to explain it. It's harder to relax when I'm on the ground unless I'm doing something. Being up higher helps."

“Huh.”

It’s kind of weird to think about that being a problem, since they grew up underground. Really, the first time Leo saw the sky here, it felt too big, without skyscrapers or trees or anything to break it up.

But the changes that are happening to them are affecting more than how they look. It’s not that much of a surprise that Donnie likes heights now. He always liked flying even before.

“You can leave the hatch open, too. I don’t mind.”

Donnie's always felt like the skies were freeing, and he loves the rush that comes with that sense of openness, a thin line between that sensation of falling and being weightless. The lack of cities here had made the space almost overwhelming, the quiet, oddly claustrophobic.

But ever since his wings had grown out and he'd learned to use them, the feeling he gets when he's flying up high is indescribable, far better than the adrenaline rush he'd get zipping between buildings back home.

He lifts his head a bit, a faint but appreciative smile touching his face at that. It's not like it's something he figured he needed permission for, but it's nice knowing Leo understands.

"Okay."

He doesn’t, not really. None of his changes have made him feel anything good. Just uglier and less like a living person.

But Leo’s only goal is to make his brothers happy, unless he’s the one who wants to annoy them. And if it makes Donnie happy to leave the hatch open, then they’ll leave the hatch open.

“I’m still good sleeping on the ground, though,” he adds, stretching back even though he doesn’t really have a back for stretching. “So don’t go dragging my mattress to your roost.”

It's been easy to overlook those changes when Leo's been acting more or less like Donnie knows him to. He hasn't been blind to those changes though, but he isn't about to change his mindset towards his brother, mostly because he refuses to acknowledge that Leo's dying, or worse yet, already technically dead.

He coughs a laugh as he straightens, seeming to finally relax. "I don't think it'd fit anyway," he says. "...but it's not as cramped as it looks up there, if you want some scenery."

“Scenery from the top of the tank…”

Leo trails off, thinking again of the time he was tied to it.

“Yeah… maybe I’ll check it out some time…”

Maybe.

Leo doesn't sound terribly thrilled about the invitation. "Yeah, sure. Just...letting you know and all." Donnie can't help but look a bit disappointed, but he shrugs it off, pushing himself to his feet.

"Anyway, I should probably get back to melting things down," he says as he collects the things he'd dug out for makeshift molds to fill. Maybe he should've grabbed a steel sink from the hospital. The basin would've at least been useful... Ah, hindsight something something.

Well, that was a sudden mood change. Leo isn't sure how he just messed that up... Was it because he didn't want to go up on top of the tank?

Leo sits awkwardly for another second, then gets up too. "Okay. Uh... take care of Mikey's lasagna recipe."

He nods at the paper. He doesn't want it to get blown away.

"Oh yeah," Donnie says, somewhat surprised he's meant to keep it. But he at least has a good place for it, picking it up with care. He smiles softly as he looks at it again, tucking it in between the pages of the notebook he'd made.

Of course he is! Leo brought it to him to help!

It's okay; Leo still has the picture, after all. When he feels down he can look at that instead. Besides, Donnie looks so happy with it. Leo wouldn't take it from him now.

"Good luck with the roost," Leo says over his shoulder as he starts walking toward the convoy. "And try not to skip dinner today."

He'll find a better place for it, make something waterproof to keep it in if he doesn't leave it in the Tank.

"I'll try," Donnie says, and at least he intends to mean it this time. But he anticipates that by the end of all this melting metals down, he'll need the sustenance.

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What Was I Doing Again

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I don't have an icon of leo looking dramatically sad so have this

crying

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