revivalproject | Later On We'll Conspire

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Later On We'll Conspire

WHO: Donatello and open
WHERE: Around central Temba
WHAT: Trying to keep warm while exploring
WHEN: Late Feb
WARNINGS: N/A

Donatello had many questions as to how the Replicator worked and no forthcoming answers as to its operation. It's rather irksome to him that the thing can spit out objects without any obvious source of input, and as of yet he's not quite convinced that it isn't just transferring it from somewhere else. This would call for some more specialized requests, but his own had been expended for the month in favor of trying to stay warm. The winter coat is just a shade off his preferred purple hue but not terrible, and he supposes he hardly has any reason to complain when he doesn't have to worry about frostbite. Yes, perhaps there are better things one can Replicate but the turtle teen has figured if he's going to not freeze then there's no reason not to make it fashionable.

Blissfully oblivious to the Storm-shaped bullet he's missed and inwardly still preoccupied with slight separation anxiety, the obvious solution has been to explore, and now that he's more suitably equipped, there is nothing to stop him! Well, short of some deep patches of snow that nearly swallow him.

The Library serves as his usual go-to for any and all questions, and if anyone knew him then they wouldn't be surprised at all that this is one of the first places he decides to check out. He doesn't get much further than the foyer as he sees the horrifyingly empty state of the place. "Wh... Why?" he not quite wails as he drops to his knees in needless the theatrics. This seems an extremely cruel trick for an avid fan of libraries and learning! An alien library potentially promising an unknown wealth of information never before conceived and after scouring its empty shelves all he finds are...

Are these comics? And two books? "Unbelievable, I get abducted into an alien planet and the only available literature is from Earth."

His tone oozes with seething disappointment.

At least the Agricultural Building does not disappoint. He hadn't been entirely kidding when he'd thought to weather the winter season in here. It's welcoming and warm, a contained natural setting in a controlled environment not at all like camping in the wilderness, just what he prefers.

Given he's accidentally absorbed the agricultural data point's offerings for knowledge, Donnie's decided to make the most of it. It's something to occupy his time as he goes through the plants and observes strangely familiar-looking species that otherwise aren't anything like what he'd expect otherwise. At some point he sets up a makeshift hammock by using sheets filched from the hotel, testing out how how comfortable it would be as opposed to an actual bed. One might catch him napping.

While he's a seasoned scavenger, this would be a rare opportunity in which he can actually go through unused things. Although Donnie imagines that most of the Department Store's goods have been picked through by now, it doesn't stop him from combing through things himself. One man's trash is another turtle's potential furnishings.

Okay, so scrapyards tend to have way more useful stuff so far as he's concerned. He'll just have to go scrap scavenging when it's not all snow-coated. In the meantime, there are some practical things to be had. He really wishes all the clothes didn't have extra appendage though, and while he's slim he's not terribly tall so he's going to absolutely be swimming in these things. Dishware, mmmaybe. A thermos will definitely be useful, maybe he can fill it with coffee or something, because someone like him totally needs caffeine.

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Was that... Wow. Tommy stares at him. That doesn't make any sense. What in the world?

"Donatello?!"

No way. It looks like Donatello, but also, like, not QUITE right.

His attention sharpens all at once then. This isn't just a matter of recognition from a badly spelled directory. Somehow there's familiarity there in the tone, and Donatello's not at all sure how to parse it. At least, not correctly.

All at once he's up on his feet and in Tommy's face. "Who sent you and what do want? How do you know me? I preemptively deny any and all allegations unless you are from the future and recognize me for my greatness and achievements in technology to better humanity in which case I will happily provide you with an autograph once I have built a printer and found something suitable to use as photo paper."

Dude, Tommy isn't even paying attention to the rant. He's putting down the box and approaching to look the turtle over. Oh fuck.

"It's really you! Oh man! I thought it was cool meeting Raph while he was here, but damn, a second one of you! Holy shit. You're the smart one too! Oh man, you could make so much cool stuff. Shit you've gotta teach me!"

Yeah, that's not creepy at all. Donatello backs away at the sudden attention, not too keen on being assessed like some kind of new plant specimen.

He blinks, and again. That Raph had been here before isn't a new piece of information to him but the way the man speaks it's like he's intimately known them all even before then. The turtle eyes him suspiciously.

"Good to know you have your facts straight at least. Yes, I am the smart one and yes I make cool 'stuff'- however what's with the demand to teach you? I don't even know who you are!"

Yeah, it's creepy, but Tommy hadn't thought of that. He's too excited.

"I'm Tommy. I was friends with Raph. I make the food here. Most of it. No dishes duty if you use the diner if you'll just tell me about capacitors. I mean, I know how to use them, and I can follow instructions about them, but fucking hell I can't seem to figure them out on my own, which means the things I try to make tend to... well, fry."

Donatello takes another step back as he eyes the human like he's grown several heads.

"Oho-kay, whoa there, bucko. I don't have to tell you about anything just because you were-" And here he raises his hands to insert air quotes- "'friends with Raph'- whom by the way if it is the same one I have heard about, is in fact not my Raph so I can't really say just how closely alternate-dimensional counterparts might align when it comes to anything. Except for color-coding, apparently."

Wait, alternate dimension? That's sad. Tommy frowns.

"Oh. I... Sorry. I kinda miss him. He was a great guy."

Donatello isn't sure how to parse that shift in mood so he just leaves it where it drops.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure he was. My older brother's okay I guess, when he's not insisting we smash everything every mission like that's the only option we have."

Shrugging, he turns to start picking up his stuff from the ground, dusting off his coat.

"I mean, he was really useful in hunting a Bunnyboar, but I know what you mean."

But he was still... well, he just sighed.

"If nothing else, can I get your autograph? I was a huge fan growing up."

Well thanks to that data point he knows what a bunnyboar is and isn't sure he's any better for it. "They have got to find better names for these things," Donatello mutters to himself.

Blink.

"Oh, you actually- well um. Huh. I mean I expected eventually my genius would be acknowledged, along with getting a Nobel Peace Prize but-"

His brows go down again. "You've gotta be way older than me, just how warped is this reality divergent anomaly?"

"Dude, no one else had given them a name. They looked like a bunny and a boar but giant," Tommy says defensively.

Donatello might well disapprove of Tommy's naming strategies.

"Oh man, don't get me started on the weird temporal shit here. I'm YEARS older than my twin brother here."

"Suidae Lepus," Donatello offers with a shrug. Sure, it's basically the same thing but Latin makes it sound so much more professional.

He gives a pained look at having to factor in temporal divergences even within the same realities, rubbing between his brows. "You know, I always thought this stuff would've been fascinating and don't get me wrong, it still is, but I think I liked it better in theory than actuality."

Edited 2023-03-04 05:12 (UTC)

"Bless you," Tommy says because that sounds like a sneeze to him. Poor guy, sneezing. Must be the cold.

"Speaking from experience, it's never fun."

Brow twitching, Donnie returns to gathering up his winter clothes as he mentally writes Tommy off into the same category as his brothers.

"Well, guess it keeps people on their toes at least," he mutters, not very convinced by that, but it's not like he has much of a choice but to deal with it. "I suppose the wiser thing would be to leave things be without chancing breaking the space-time continuum by having otherwise forbidden knowledge about alternate existences."

Dude, not everyone learns Latin. It's not that strange.

"Oh, yeah, that can help. Good news is that I don't know much about your reality, and you aren't in mine. Apparently there's some black magic users or something that can't even come up with their own ideas for stories for television and movies so they use their magic to look into other worlds for things that we don't have, and write other people's stories. So I sorta grew up with stories of you and your brothers fighting robots and aliens, oh and ninjas."

Tommy has to snicker after a moment then. Ah ninjas.

"I wonder if they wrote ninjas as mooks when they were in a group in your cartoons in my world just because ninjas in groups are always mooks in mine. My boyfriend, he complained about their idiocy all the time."

"Come again..?" There are so many things that just came out of Tommy's mouth that make no sense to him. Well, except for the fact that it involves magic, so clearly it's never going to make sense to him.

"I have no idea what you're going on about, but I believe that in regards to media and movie classics you are probably sorely missing out on the greatest martial artist ever, Lou Jitsu, and the greatest sci-fi franchise of all time, Jupiter Jim!"

Tommy isn't snickering over word choice. At all. Nope. He's got restraint. Barely.

"Never heard of it. But maybe if you come by the diner sometime for food, you could tell me about it?"

Because damn he coudl do with more stories.

Donatello has no idea what's so amusing but he is vaguely offended. So his brothers have grown up with strange, admittedly old tastes in pop culture films that were from the late seventies and on, but they absolutely loved them. And Lou Jitsu had literally taught them everything they knew about fighting.

"Maybe," he sniffs, an uncommitted response as he straightens his snow boots next to the clothes he's folded up.

"Well, that's where the food is. So, you know, be around if you want."

He shrugs and moves to pick up his crate again.

"And pad whatever you're using to string up the hammock. So the bark of the trees doesn't get hurt."

The eyeroll is unseen but the sigh is clearly transmitted with the exaggerated rise and drop of his shoulders.

"Well, then it is a good thing I am using sheets instead of rope, which I do not have although that might've been the better choice. Then again, considering the effort it takes to get into one of these things, I think I will forgo this method of bedding for the future."

"Yeah, physics blows when you're stuck at low speeds. But you know you could set something else up, if you wanted to stay here, right? Like, there are areas with things we don't need as much. We could clear something out and get you a cot."

Would a turtle be more comfortable in the greenhouse? Maybe. Tommy would want him to be more comfortable.

The turtle arches a brow at that but turns his attention back to the bedding situation as he considers other options.

"Wasn't thinking of a permanent fix here, just at least until things aren't, you know, frozen outside. This was an experiment, I'm looking at other options," he says, mostly distracted by said other options he's thinking about.

Oh, that's fair. Still, he's thinking about it.

"We could set up something preemptively for next winter if you need. And the ships stay pretty warm. When there isn't a blizzard."

Next winter? That thought is depressing, a sore reminder that people have been here longer and that he has no idea when he'll be able to see any of his family again.

"O-oh, yeah. Sure. Sounds...sounds great," Donatello murmurs distractedly. He does make note of the ships though. Something he should definitely check out if no one else is going to bunk in them.

Winters were a recurring thing, and Tommy just tended to assume the next seasons, next years, would come. He'd been here so long.

"Hey, if there's anything I can do to help you out here, let me know."

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