revivalproject | But They Shot At the Horizon

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But They Shot At the Horizon

WHO: Donnie & Open!
WHERE: Temba
WHAT: Weathering a Storm
WHEN: The day prior and then duration of the Storm
WARNINGS: N/A
NOTES: Will match tag prefs!

I. Batten Down
The notification from Te Mi had practically flipped a switch, and all at once Donnie had dove straight into obsessive work mode. Leo would at least be familiar with it. A Storm with a capital 'S' was on the approach, and while he had no idea how much time they even had before it actually came around, the fact of the matter was that they at least had time.

He ignored the heat, setting to work, not about to waste an opportunity. Once again they'd be on their own so he had to prepare. In hindsight there was so much he probably could have tried to set up while they were yet in space, more problems, more equipment to be made, programs to be coded- it'd all have to wait. He wasn't about to get sidetracked now.

He worked feverishly in his workshop, digging through the scattered assortment of salvage and parts he'd purchased back at the spaceport, regretting putting off properly sorting them. Given the properties of these particular Storms he wasn't sure how well a radiosonde would fair and they didn't even know what range the effects would begin, but this was a rare opportunity and he was going to make the most of it, cramming as many methods he could possibly get together to measure the effects of the coming Storm as he could. This included 'borrowing' one of Tony's crystal radios. If there was a weak point to be found in this storm, Donnie was determined to find it.

He wasn't trying to be very inconspicuous about the radio theft, nor any of his other tasks around the city square. But he was moving quickly, a turtle with a definite purpose, probably not advisable given the temperatures but he had better things to do than sit in the shade or do that thing with food. Hydration was on his list at least, but it was once again pushed back as he made his way from the Whale Comb Sent Her, two large canisters tucked one under each arm.

II. We Have Lift Off
Donnie stands at the top of the Security Tower, kind of regretting it as the sun continues to relentlessly try cooking everything beneath its rays. He squints up at the skies, deceptively clear, but he can't tell if that's something in the distance or just the heat getting to him.

Shaking his head, the turtle sets to work. The faster he can get this thing in the air, the faster he can peel off his battle shell and dunk himself...somewhere. Maybe someone has a bathtub he can borrow. "-focus," he tells himself. This isn't a vacation.

A. He spreads the large rubbery material out as well as he can on the roof before hooking things up to one of the big canisters, twisting the knob to get its contents flowing. It might not be readily identifiable but eventually the bulbous form begins to take shape and gain lift as it does so. Donnie swipes the back of his hand across his forehead, wishing the balloon would fill faster. He fumbles for his thermos, uncapping it to splash his face before he drains the rest of it. Unfortunately it ends up toppling off the top of the tower when he tries to set it down.

"A-aah, ohno LOOK OUT BELOW!"

B. By now the large weather balloon is unmistakable, or at least it's clear there's something going on up there and it isn't a certain warlord redecorating. The silvery lilac monstrosity (well what other color would it be?) dwarfs the turtle at its base. He checks the package that its tethered to, closes off the valve to the helium tank and makes sure everything's secured. No leaks, no breeze picking up, at least down here.

Donnie grins up at the thing somewhat maniacally. The heat may be getting to him but by Teisserenc, he's done it!! And now...there's only one thing to do.

He releases the carabiners anchoring the balloon to the roof, hopping to his feet and windmilling his arms just once to keep his balance before he gives out a whoop as the balloon rises.

"Fly!! Fly my pretty!!" he cackles.

III. Drowning in Memories
The only good thing about this is definitely the rain. The Storm's effectively obliterated whatever memory of the dreadful heat had lingered. Donnie has long since lost sight of the balloon, but that's to be expected, especially with a wall of clouds above and rain coming down so hard one can barely make anything out.

But the rainfall is patchy, downpouring one moment and fading to a sprinkle the next. Perhaps that's what Te Mi had meant by his strange descriptions. Maybe being outside isn't the best idea either way, but Donnie's still not done with his data gathering. For the moment he takes cover by the library entrance.

"Well, so much for analogue," he mutters, not seeming to mind at all that he's drenched as he squeezes the lever of some kind of self-charging flashlight. Or at least it's supposed to be, but for all the flexing of his fingers, the thing hasn't managed to hold any bit of power. "Can't say I'm surprised." He frowns, eyes skimming the skies for any sign of his balloon, a vain effort, he knows.

He tucks the flashlight away and looks out across the way before he steps away from his cover. The rain looks like it's let up a bit. Maybe he can get back to the warehouse before...

"Oh come on!" he sputters as the intensity of rainfall seems to pick up almost immediately.

((OOC: I haven't decided on a memory yet but I'm leaving it open to happen or if someone wants him to happen across one of theirs!))

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At least he isn't the only fool getting caught out in the rain. Really it wasn't Reeve's fault. He'd gone to stow one last bundle of replicated candles in one of the emergency supply caches before he was intent on holing up in Richie's room, snuggled up in a blanket with a nice fire to provide light and drive off any potential chill.

Except he'd been intending to dart between storms. And clearly, he'd miscalculated. So when he hears the voice calling out in frustration, he has to laugh. That, at least, was no storm ghost. They never complained over the weather.

"We should have made umbrellas I think," he calls to the other person as he angles slightly toward them. "Which building are we near?"

They clearly had to be near a building if there was a person. And he had to get back to Richie.

Hey, he's no fool! He was on a mission! Not that Donnie's going to complain too much about the rain, not when it had been so hot and dry as Temba's summer had settled in. Being able to see would be nice though.

"I don't know how well they would've held up, between this and the winds that kick up every now and then," Donnie notes, hating that he feels like he's yelling but it's too easy to be drowned out by the sound of the rainfall otherwise. "The library's just back that way, he says, thumbing over his back.

The library. Jon. Yes, that would be a safe enough place for now. Even if he wanted to get to Richie. No, he'd set up a rope from the cache there to help him get where he was going. A great plan.

"We should head back there then. Start our plan of getting wherever we're going from a position of knowledge."

"I already know which direction I need to head, I need to get back to my brother," Donnie says firmly. "But I'll walk you back since it's right there."

Maybe by then the storm will lighten up some. He can't really discount the fact that the rain makes it really hard to see when it's coming down, but he's getting anxious about leaving his brother alone in a storm.

Well, that sounds like a plan.

"Be careful. The storms are quite talented at getting one turned around."

Reeve knew it quite well from experience. What a fool of a man he was, risking going out into them as often as he did.

Donnie knows it's dangerous and risky but he's also stubborn, and when it comes to family there's he wouldn't do to get to them.

"I figure that. But so long as we keep one foot in front of the other and don't go chasing after people who aren't here, it should be fine, right?" he says as he turns, squinting against the rain. The distinct shape of the library looms not too far, so he waves for Reeve to follow as he sets out.

"Yes, it seems logical."

Of course there is a lot that isn't logical about the storms, so maybe they shouldn't rely on it so much to be their option. Still, the boy seems to know where he is going, and Reeve follows without question.

It'd be a lot easier with his tech, but the storm's effectively proven that such things were not going to be reliable. This is a lot different than his first storm, but of course Donnie's mad at himself above anything else. He's heard enough about how the storm functions, but instead of trying to figure out ways around it, to deal with the situation when it inevitably comes, his focus has been entirely on a different aspect.

And what do my efforts get me? Confirmation that anything energy-producing effectively fails. No new headway, he thinks, annoyed at himself. Well, there's still his balloon. But he can't do anything about that, not yet.

"How many of these have you gone through?" he asks Reeve instead, making sure not to get too far ahead of the man.

"I have honestly lost count," Reeve admits with a sigh as they walk. "There have been plenty that have been different so it's sometimes hard to remember they are the same thing. Sometimes there is rain, sometimes there is snow, sometimes there isn't either and the fog is horrible."

And this one? He likes it more. Traditional storms are better, even if he's divided from his magics and Mini.

"Unfortunate, but...fair," Donnie concedes with a frown. "My first one was when there were those weird eyeless monsters, and even then the only way I'm assuming it was a storm at all was because the power wasn't working. It wasn't at all like any of the things I was warned about."

At least now they have a head's up, and some insight from the Agrii. A storm that is constantly circling the planet and he can't even properly investigate it. Already he's been cooking up ideas but he can't do anything while the actual storm is sitting over them.

"Ah yes, those," Reeve winces. He'd been pulled into another world to deal with them. And he had not appreciated that at all. Being trapped there while still injured was a mess.

"It was most decidedly a storm. The ones at that time of the year seem... weirder than most."

Donnie had as well, quite by accident and not at all prepared for how cold it would be on the other side. He's sure he probably would have been something's meal if Tony hadn't found him.

"So...how many times does it usually happen a year? I didn't think it was something someone could easily anticipate. I've been here over a year now and this is the second time I've experienced one- but I'm pretty sure there wasn't one back in the summer..."

"It varies," Reeve says as they walk, keeping his eyes out for any shadows that may loom around them in the rain. "Some years three, some years two. And as you know, even one sometimes. It's hard to predict."

"Hm..." Donnie frowns, wiping rain from his face, as much good as it seems to do.

"Te Mi said that the storm moves around the planet. It doesn't dissipate like a normal one, so the source, as some have already postulated, can't be a natural one."

"Yes, that seems like a logical conclusion," Reeve agrees as he tries to get the moisture out of his own hair. "Though it is a horrifying one to think of. Evil weather machines seem like something out of stories, but it seems to be what we have here."

"Are you really surprised?" Donnie glances back at Reeve. "Something- or rather someone has it out for the Agrii for some reason, and has found a way to entertain themselves with the outcome. That was probably part of the plan from the start, seeing as how the Agrii were already so conveniently provided a ship and a means to call us. And so now we, being extremely underequipped to deal with anything, are forced to have to get through these stupid things."

"The Atroma," Reeve suggests. "They were in charge of the fleet. It seems like they would have cause to know about the Agrii, doesn't it?"

And there had been stuff found over the years that hinted at it. Like that Halocryon thing, or whatever it was called.

"But you're not wrong. They are definitely laughing at us."

Still, the picture Donnie paints is troubling. It makes them sound like a reality show that didn't help and teach but one that was mocked and tormented.

The turtle nods grimly. Everything he knows about the Atroma are things he's only heard from other people. Everything else has been a result of their meddling.

"That's the part we need to figure out. What do the Atroma possibly have against the Agrii?"

His shoulders hunch up at the reminder that they're the entertainment. Reality shows have always been cheap, being in some twisted space-version of a survival show really turns his stomach and simultaneously makes him want to murder someone.

"If that's the only goal they have in mind then it's stupid," he snorts. Put on a brave face. Show them you won't play their games.

"Do they have something against the Agrii, or something against us?" Reeve asks. He remembers when they were taunted in Calibrations, after Tony was nearly killed.

It seemed more pointed at them.

"They sure don't seem bright."

"Uncertain. But they had to specifically devise a way to effectively chase off the Agrii and certainly don't seem to care about casualties from them. The storms seem specifically tailored to keep them from actively interfering."

Donnie wrinkles his nose. "But we're more resilient. I think they expected us to just play nicely but every time we get too close, they think they have to knock us down a few pegs. They're just big bullies when you get down to it."

Was that what the storms were for? From the Agrii's own histories, they storm seemed to be fatal to them. The storm seemed torment for torment's sake.

He does wince at the other point.

"You might be right, about pegs. That volcano last year sure seemed like a few."

Death is a pretty good way to keep someone from interfering.

"Ugh," Donnie voices, his opinion quite clear about his feelings on that particular event.

His footsteps slow however, and not because the library's in sight. Rather, the building just before them just seems to vanish, as well as everything surrounding them. Replacing the sound of rain is the muffled sound of thousands of voices just beyond the metal walls of... Wait, where are they?

Donnie knows all too well as his eyes widen, and even before he hears the voices, he knows just when this was as well. The internal lights of the tank have gone red in emergency mode, the entire vehicle flipped upside-down as can be told by the placement of the seats and the view outside the windows- some kind of arena where large, battle-ready cars revved their engines as they circled the downed tank like sharks ready to make a kill.

The transition was almost sudden, and Reeve? Reeve was more confused and disoriented than Donnie. This wasn't, even for a second, his own memory. The closest thing he could compare it to would be riding in one of the shadow fox carriers, but this was not that. Not with the warning lights. Not with being flipped. Not with a window.

"What in Gaia's name?"

"You said this was a car fair! You knew I wouldn't come if I knew it was a demolition derby!"

Although it's Donnie's voice that speaks up then, it isn't from the Donnie beside Reeve. It soon becomes apparent they're not the only ones within these metal confines. There sits Donnie, and standing in front of him, a short rat-man in a short kimono.

"Turn this tank back on NOW or else I will-" the rat starts to threaten, but Donnie immediately cuts him off.

"Or else what? You tricked us into coming here, you said you wanted to spend time with us, YOU LIED!" he shouts back, the tears rare but genuine. He's angry and he's hurt and for all that his little brother continues to look worriedly outside and try to get their attention, Mikey may as well have been miles away.

Next to Reeve, Donnie stands tense as he watches, his fingers curling tightly at his sides, his expression pinched. How dare they show something so intimate? He knows how this plays out but that should only be between him, his brother and his father.

Yes, it should only be between them. And Reeve? He's gotten good at these things. Really good at them.

He moves just enough to stand himself between now-Donnie and the vision. He turns to face Donnie, closes his eyes, and takes Donnie's hands in his. Lifts them up as Reeve bends down just a bit, to make it easier to cover his ears with Donnie's hands. Then he puts his own right over them, holding them there, adding a layer.

"Your memories should only be your own," he mumbles, hoping the result will make him a bit more immune to the memory. He doesn't have a right to it and he's trying to give what privacy he can in a horrible situation.

Donnie's words seem to have hit home with his father, cutting off further retort at such an uncharacteristically open display of emotion. He feels eyes burn again like it was that day, but it's for largely different reasons. Seeing his dad after having been away from his family for over a year. Not understanding how anyone can just project such things for anyone to see. If it isn't in some creepy prison down a creepy tunnel then where are the limits? It's not fair and he hates that it boils down to such a childish feeling, but it's frustrating when he doesn't know how to deal with something able to do this.

And suddenly Reeve is front of him, and uncomprehending at first, Donnie reluctantly loosens his fingers as he finds his hands being raised by the man. He blinks back tears at his words, looking simultaneously baffled and grateful.

This is how you combat it. This is how you punch the Atroma in the face. They don't have to play these games, they don't have to witness what they don't or shouldn't have to. His fingers curl gently to shape against Reeve's head, and he's not really sure how well they can block anything out, but it's the gesture that's appreciated more than anything else.

Donnie looks back to the memory, to Mikey who continues to panic, to his father who calls Donnie by his full name rather than by a color, putting weight into his words as he admits his wrong, his fault, and then...an apology. With his eyes closed, Reeve can't see the faint, sorrowful smile of a boy who wishes his dad were there now, who mouths 'love you, dad,' as he watches the rest of it play out. Maybe things hadn't started out in the best way, but in the end there was understanding, there was bonding, a son that would do anything to make his father happy, and a father who was proud of his sons.

The cheers of the crowds fade away, the rain lessening to a steady drizzle around them as the Turtle Tank fades and the library stands where it's always been. Donnie sighs, glad for the rain as it makes it harder to tell that tears had soaked his bandanna, and he loosens his hands from over Reeve's ears.

"...thank you."

The rain starts to sting against his skin again, and still Reeve doesn't lower his hands. It isn't until Donnie's own hands loosen that Reeve opens his eyes and lowers his own hands away.

"I've been through what this place does for laughs a few times. I've learned the best option is to not engage unless you're invited to. And that was most definitely not invited. Come on. Let's get to shelter, take a few minutes to dry off and recuperate, and come up with a plan."

Because, frankly, he would rather not be in the library when the storm lets up. Getting the sudden burst of Jon's power after being already emotionally shaken up is not comfortable for some people. Reeve's gotten used to it, but Donnie might not be ready for it.

They're wise words. Donnie's not sure how well it would have worked in Calibrations, not when you couldn't be sure what triggered anything, nor if you found yourself reliving someone's memory through their own eyes. But at least in this form, they could try to ignore things.

The turtle nods, not arguing the proposal, and since they're right there by the library, he'll follow Reeve in. He has no intention to stick around any longer than he has to, but right now, he isn't feeling as eager to run around in the storm and can only hope Leo's okay wherever he is.

Reeve had actually sat down in the middle of someone's Calibrations room and just talked to them until the thing had spit them out before. He really was serious about respect. His own room... was usually better at luring people into his memories than he liked.

But with the shelter at hand, Reeve happily steps in, holds the door open for Donnie, and then shuts it against the storm.

"At least this time it wasn't a near death thing, I suppose. That's a small victory."

Donnie mops the extra water from his face, shaking himself out. "Guess that's one good thing about this not being a fully stocked library," he mutters, grimacing at the growing puddles. He'd hate to have accidentally ruined any books.

"Nothing seems to be trying to lead us anywhere questionable anyway," he nods, but he still can't help but look anxiously back towards the door.

"Indeed. I think Jon might find a way to devour us even powerless if we harmed a book," Reeve agreed. Which, of course, would be completely fair.

But he wonders if they haven't been led into something questionable anyway.

"They have used memories before. Against us. To try and tear us down. There was a storm in the winter. We were confronted with things that made us ashamed or embarrassed. Visions of people from our past."

"Uh...Jon what now?" This concerns him more because Reeve has never struck him as one to joke.

The thought of another memory-related storm, one used offensively, turns Donnie's gut. As much as he'd rather claim he's never had any such experiences, he knows better than to voice it. Instead he snorts, rolling back his shoulders as he tries to rebuild his composure.

"That only works if we let it bother us," he says. Easy to say when it's not actively happening. And sure, just a moment ago he'd been bothered but it was for different reasons. It's easier to be angry at something than turn those feeling inwards. They're still ultimately being toyed with. He can't forget that.

"Jon's protective of knowledge," Reeve says with a shrug, as if he didn't say something weird. Because to him it wasn't.

But he had known Jon for a very long time.

What Reeve can say is that there is one place Donnie's wrong in.

"It works even if we don't want it to bother us. You saw that I think."

There were so many wrong things with that statement that Donnie can't reason out that it had been merely a metaphor, and that's what bothers him. It makes him cast a furtive look around for the Archivist.

The boy makes a face then, folding his arms tightly against himself. He hates that he has nothing to say against that.

Oh, it's definitely not a metaphor. There's probably no way for him to ACTUALLY devour someone. But he's got his methods. Just like the powers that torment them have their own ways.

"Alright. I think I'm going to try and journey out now."

"Wh- already?" Donnie blinks a bit surprised, and partially suspicious that Reeve knows something. Was it Jon? Is he here? Not...that that'd be strange but... Okay thanks Reeve, for making him paranoid.

"-I should probably continue looking for Leo too," he says, because as convenient an excuse as it is to not be left alone in here, it is still very much one of his immediate things to do.

Yes, already. Which has little to do with concern over Jon. It's about finding Richie. He just wanted to get back to his partner.

"Is there a place where you and Leo have agreed to meet in an emergency?"

Donnie grimaces. "Not really. I figure the warehouse would be the obvious place to wait for me but..." He knows his brother isn't one to wait, and frankly the turtle can't blame him. He'd do the same.

Which means Leo's probably already out there somewhere. That's enough to spur him back into action, and without another word or waiting for Reeve, Donnie dashes past him and back out into the storm.

That but does a lot of heavy lifting.

"I wish you luck. Do not try-"

And the boy is already running off. Reeve sighs and starts his more measured pace back toward the hotel.

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But They Shot At the Horizon

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