semilethal | general psl

[the heavy thumps and clatters of raphael moving around cumbersome appliances that no one creature has any business being able to lift and move is almost meditative, in a way. maybe donatello doesn't want to talk about it either (okay, he DEFINITELY doesn't want to talk about it) but even with his battle shell on he still feels...exposed.

he's felt that way for weeks now. at least he's no longer trying to jump out of his skin or literally bite anyone who puts a hand on his shoulder.

but with raphael back there, making an unholy amount of noise that would no doubt bring repo mantis over if he were still around, it's almost like his shell is to a wall. a very comforting, very sturdy wall. donnie can completely lose himself in his work without having to worry because he knows raphael's probably keeping at least one and a half eyes on him even while he hauls around 400 pounds of metal, glass, and plastic to line up in a neat little row.]

Dang-...nut, [donnie grouses, wrenching at a component that just won't come loose. buildup and rust had claimed the connecting hardware and no amount of WD-40 and not-quite-gentle coaxing was getting it loose. he could always cut it with a laser, if he wanted to set the entire engine block on fire.] Raph, [donnie calls over his shoulder without looking away,] I need you to literally rip this engine apart for me. [that should make him happy.

...except he isn't answering. something cold prickles at the back of donnie's neck. he doesn't want to turn and look; some sick, deep, animalistic fear that tells him not to look. he has to look.

arms still buried in the car engine, donatello looks over his shoulder. there is no raphael, no line of refridgerators. there's no junkyard, no new york; just the wet, pulsing walls of the kraang ship closing in.]

[ If there's a world where Raph doesn't have 1.5+ eyes or ears on the nearest little brother at all times, that must be a world he's not in.

It ain't much, but it's honest work, digging around for fridges. Nice and straightforward. Fun way to kill time and get some lifting in. Donnie is elbow-deep in car stuff, right over there, and Raph can hear him clinking around a little bit in the spaces where he's not personally making a huge racket.

When his right eye starts itching, he doesn't think too much about it. It's not back to 100% yet, he's out in the dark doing work with a bunch of grimy old stuff, it's probably gonna bug him. So he doesn't rub at it, in the learned manner of someone who got their hand slapped away from their face a lot the first few days after the invasion, gets back to his excavating instead. It's a good night. Donnie's in a good mood. It's fine.

When half his vision cuts out entirely like it's connected to a secret light switch somewhere, file that down under the sort of instant, rib-crushing panic that ends with him accidentally ripping the door off of this fridge wholesale. Not just gone, not just cut, but a pressure, half-familiar, like there's something out of place, something growing--

Freezes him. Cuts his breath short. Very bad, probably, he thinks. ]

Dee?

[ It shouldn't be loud enough to travel. He should have to scrape a thought together, try again. Shouldn't be quiet enough to get through, with him not making a racket.

His brother isn't rattling car parts around anymore.

(ALONE?)

But it hasn't been a minute, Donnie was right there, he just checked.

Raph turns and can't seem to get eyes-- eye?-- on him and it's maybe the most terrifying thing of all. ]

[the walls don't actually close in. they sit there, pulsating and dripping, but they are no closer to donnie after several long, long seconds of just staring as 500+ ng/L of adrenaline screams through his body and slams his heart against his ribcage.

ever so slowly, donatello turns around to see his arms are buried in the fleshy recesses of the kraang console, but when the panic again reaches its claws for him, he's prepared. pushing down the revulsion climbing up from his stomach, he wiggles his fingers ever so slightly. it doesn't feel like the console, it doesn't grip with the same sickening suction. he carefully pulls his arms out and meets only hard resistance he can't see but he can maneuver around. it's the car engine.

he's hallucinating. all right. that poses its own terrifying problems, but somewhat more manageable than just suddenly being in the kraang ship. but while he's been standing here trying not to fall apart and just curl up and rock himself to wellness, raphael is either past that wall desperately trying to get his attention, or somewhere else. maybe raphael doesn't even know donnie's not okay? has he actually spoken, has raph said anything? donnie can't hear the sounds of the refrigerators being moved, did he stop? is donnie having auditory hallucinations too? all he can hear is tinnitus and his own pounding heart. what does he do?

-he needs to stop panicking. he's got to stop panicking. his own mind, the thing he's relied on the most, is playing tricks on him but he must stay calm if he's going to fix this, which of course he will.

donatello takes a deep breath. he does this several times, then puts his hands out and walks forward, toward the kraang wall, through the kraang wall until he bumps into-]

-Raph.

[ Rather than logical investigative work, Raphael is engaging in one of the Hamato clan's most time-tested and ancient arts: simply brute forcing focus on literally anything that's not his current situation, as a means to function. Healthy. Stable. Ol' reliable.

He ditches the fridge door. Puts a palm over his eye and presses, like trying to alleviate a headache, tries to make his breathing even out.

He's fine, because he says so. He's fine because he needs to find his brother. Panicking doesn't keep Donnie safe, so it has to stay off the table right now. He can move. He still has one good eye. So he's fine, and it'll stay fine, and they'll both get home safe. And if something's in his head somehow despite the fact there's been no sign of that whatsoever until right now, if there's Kraang left in him somewhere--

Raph presses harder, instinctive, forces his hands not to shake.

He'll tear it out again. He did it before. Anything that's in there, he can claw it down to the root and keep ripping until it's gone for real-

So the bright sides of a hundred percent absolutely getting jumpscared by Donatello bumping into him are a) he no longer has to canvas the junkyard on a Donnie hunt and b) it really takes a hammer to the odds of going full 'animal with one leg stuck in a trap' thought spiral. No longer required, busy with: jumping a foot in the air due to local nerd. ]

Donnie. Hey, we gotta-- [ Wait, bumped into him. Donnie bumped into him? Accidental physical contact? Did he miss something while he was having his freakout? ] What happened?

[ Look, the eye thing can wait two extra seconds. It's not gonna get more blind. He's pretty sure that's science. If something's up with both of them at the same time, though... real worst case scenario for what was supposed to just be a fun little errand. ]

[there's a loud clunk and all of a sudden a floodlight illuminates the junkyard around them- because that's where he is, the junkyard. as if the light had just suddenly cleared the hallucination away like a fan would a thick fog.

it was raphael he bumped into because there he is, donatello's big brother, one hand hovering over him as donnie clutches at his brother's arm and shell, the other hand pressed- against his eye?]

What happened? [donnie demands, because that's the surest way to calm him down. information, input, generate response and answer. he reaches up for his brother's wrist to pull it away, already reaching into his belt for a pen light.]

[ ???

Uno Reversed??? This can't be right.

Raph gives Donnie's hand a light swat. Reason: partly on principle, partly just because he can. Maybe a little bit because what if nothing got close to his eyes right now, actually, and never mind if that's the opposite of what a reasonable person would be doing in this situation.

Which is... fine. Apparently? That's depth perception he's percept-ing? Or as much of it as he's gotten back to lately, which is a non-terrible amount.

He literally just wanted to line up some fridges for his little brother to massacre. Why is life like this. ]

I asked you first. That means I got interrogation dibs.

[ Some people choose a hill to die on to cope. ]

[is about to throw a HISSY. FIT over having his hand knocked away when he's trying to examine his brother but it's weird that raph is being so quiet about it. donnie opens his mouth to argue but then he catches it.

raph's lips are moving. he's definitely speaking, or trying to speak, but he's- there's nothing. not even the sound of his breath, a wheeze, anything to indicate he's having difficulty speaking, up to and including his face which emotes just the same as ever.

is it him? is it donnie, can he not-

donnie snaps his mouth shut and pauses, still hanging onto raphael's wrist; he thinks he can hear environmental noise, the far-off roar and honks of new york of traffic, the buzz of the old lights above them. just to be sure donnie wrenches his goggles aside to snap his fingers right next to his inner ear. he can definitely hear, and judging by the irritated confusion on raphael's face, he doesn't know anything is wrong so he must be able to hear himself.

-right. and maybe he can hear donnie?] Raph, I can't hear what you're saying. Nod if you can hear me still.

[ The fact that Donnie does not immediately throw a hissy fit to be fended off is concerning in its own right. Raph is no stranger to what happens when someone pokes that particular bear. Due to having poked it several times in recent history, probably.

It's so cool how this ping of concern only goes more downhill by the second. Like his brother isn't absorbing something. But not in like the "makes it frustrating to try to corral his little brother because his big brain latched onto something four blocks and a left turn away" way, just... a weird way. A something is obviously very wrong way.

The cause for which becomes EVIDENT (when Donnie literally says what the cause is).

So worrying really can take the front seat, its default position, now. Donnie gets his nod and then Raph goes ahead and walks a frenetic little circle around him. Like he will magically find evidence of a way to fix this by punching something into the upper atmosphere. This is cool. This is great. No one wants to panic at all.

When his circuit ends fruitlessly, he stops in front of Donnie again and offers very clear sagely brotherly wisdom. ]

Home. Now.

[ POINTS IN A HOME DIRECTION FOR EMPHASIS.

His vision's on the fritz and Donnie is apparently going deaf, so maybe they just co-limp back to the lair to work on all that before something gets even worse.

And no one leaves home again until they're thirty. Decision pending. ]

[It gnaws at him, the mystery, the unknown behind this. Hallucinations- fine. Maybe he needs to run some tests. Raphael not being able to speak, and/or Donatello becoming very selectively deaf? Not...likely, but could still perhaps be explained with more data. Is it the environs? A gas? Some kind of chemical attack, or perhaps even mystic? But there was no indication of approach, it was seamless-

Raph's tense. Raphael's afraid.

It just happened moments ago but the danger's passed so Donnie's fine, but Raphael is practically vibrating out of his shell. He was clutching his eye. Pain? Loss of vision?

Don's brows furrow before he nods sharply, turning on his heel and heading right for the junkyard entrance. He even leaves behind his spoils; he can come back for them later, maybe send a drone to come pick them up if he has to. He needs to figure this out and Raph needs to get home, they both do.

-except when they turn the corner where the chain link fence should be, there are just more piles of refuse. Donnie pulls up short and even backs up a step, bumping back against Raph in his confusion. No, this is definitely where the driveway should be, and Repo's shack should be right over to the left. He didn't get turned around- he doesn't get turned around.] ...we should call Leo.

[ Every time Raph says "home, now" and it doesn't turn into an argument, he regains years of his life previously lost to other brother-related stresses. This is nothing if not a time to be actively grateful for Donatello.

He'll listen out, Donnie can cover the peripherals. Which would maybe require Raph actually mentioning the necessary precaution so he knows to do that. Not ideal. They'll get home. They'll figure it out. It'll be fine. It is fine.

So, a near immediate shoutout to everything being not fine after all. There should be a fence here. Raph would like to think that even distracted, he's not liable to get that lost somewhere they've been before. Donnie definitely shouldn't be getting lost, because he's got himself a whole mental mind palace layout of what's where around here.

But a fence, there's not. Where there should be fence, there's more junk? Is that legal?

Not that it's not nice to feel more annoyed by the audacity than worried about it for a hot second, honestly.

He gives Donnie a thumbs up while he gets his phone out, because he is still polite.

He follows it up with a tilt of his head, turns his thumbs up into a fist, and mimes a tiny uppercut, as if to say "if-slash-when phones and comms don't work like in a spooky movie, what if smashing through stuff until we've kindly given Repo Mantis a free emergency exit?" A healthy outlet. ]

[Donnie's got his phone out too, and wouldn't you know it? No signal. The same occurs when he swipes at his wrist computer to engage the escape pods; no homing beacon. They would shoot right out into space, drop them in the Hudson, slam them into a building, any number of unfortunate outcomes without any navigation.

Well- well, shit. His tech is failing him, and if that doesn't nudge Donnie back over the line from "damage control" into "panicking like a feral cat" nothing else will.]

-yeah, yes why not. Yes. [go get it big brother, beat the shit out of this junkyard for creeping me out and blocking my 8G connection]

[ It's nice to get permission to beat up an inanimate construct sometimes. Raph doesn't always ask permission, sure, but when he does ask permission and he gets the go-ahead, that brings a good energy to it.

Smashing is a vital and straightforward tool in the arsenal. Most of Raph's tools are the straightforward kind.

He gives Donnie a little 'shoo' gesture for safety distance purposes, then goes ahead and does the dang thing. No need for theatrical windups over making a fancy new door. Just a couple of Big Punches, and then surely all will be right with the world, get that nice airflow differential that signifies busting through to another area, problems solved for forever. Or for now, anyway.

Which kinda makes it suck when the dust settles and there's literally just a nigh-identical junk wall waiting for them. Since when was this place all spooky and cursed and likely to mess with their heads? Raph takes it as a personal offense. ]

What gives!

[ He attempts to punch them free of the junkyard three more times, for good measure. That's part of the scientific process, right. ]

[Donnie doesn't need to be able to hear his brother -which he still can't by the by) to know that 'destroy our way out' was unsuccessful. So a bunch of Donnie's tech isn't working properly, and he didn't bring his flying shell in favor of more storage space/attachments, and their phones aren't working all of a sudden, and one or both of them are experiencing hallucinations, and they can't find their way out, and this wasn't supposed to happen, and what is going on, and there's something wrong with them, and hE IS LOWKEY BUT SORTA HIGHKEY FREAKING OUT.]

What- [-do we do? What do they do? What's the plan, what do they do?! Raph- Raph must have another plan, right? Or a plan on how to form a plan?]

[ Oop.

Yep, okay, went from very bad to the worst just now solely because Donnie looks so upset about it. Given what they're working with, Raph can't blame him.

Tests are easy and answers are hard. Especially when not having the right answer leaves you backed into a corner.

So. Time for one of the oldest orders of operations in Raph's book. Albeit one that would have an easier endgame if, uh. If the second part could involve more talking. Maybe that part he'll do some phone-typing for. That's for in-a-minute Raph.

Priorities. Little brother first. Plan to plan a plan second. Everything else third.

It's a familiar emotional lens to make himself put on.

He taps his fingers against his own plastron a couple of times, center of the chest, and mimes a slow breath. Maybe not so mimes. Maybe actually just also takes one for himself as a special treat. ]

[Give Don a handful of data and he'll sort it for you in seconds. Ask Don for a deus ex machina in the form of a gun or rocket or vehicle and he'll build it overnight.

Disrupt his routine? Cut him off from not only his own comfort tech, but two thirds of his support network? Take previously established laws and rules and turn them on their head?

Yeah, Raph's not wrong. Donnie isn't doing well. So the tnk tnk of Raph knocking against his own plastron makes Donnie jump out of his pre-shutdown, the coping mechanism of complete and utter withdrawal from the Bad Stimuli by virtue of ignoring all stimuli, as he looks up at his big brother.

Raph moves his hands; palms up, up his chest. Palms down, slowly down his chest. Deep breaths. Right. Okay. Raph is still here; they won't want for both defensive and offensive power. His tech bo is still communicating with his wrist computer and battle shell. Raphael is here. He's not completely adrift.

Donnie nods and gulps in a breath, his eyes fixed on the chip in Raph's plastron at his left shoulder. Leo still won't look too closely at it but it's a grounding reminder for Donnie; Raph can and will protect his brothers with everything he has. Donnie's in safe hands, and he needs to make sure Raph is too.] I'm good. I'm okay.

[Takes a couple more breaths to prove it, then half-steps away to look around them. The smashed piles of junk from Raphael's attempts are still there, so they can interact with their environment in a permanent way. It's just that their environment has inexplicably changed.] Can you use your mystic powers to get big and try to look around?

[ There he is. There's his guy. Raph has the bandwidth to spare for a proud little smile, another thumbs up, before anything. Gotta take those small victories.

The question is second order of business. Raph looks up. Seems like mostly clear airspace for a giant mystic Raph to do some peeping. ]

I think I can handle that.

[ He hesitates, though. What's a cool and casual way to uh... yeah. Pantomime some important info. Okay.

Raph keeps his tapping game up, but this time it's a much more careful couple of taps just below his right eye. He grimaces and wobbles his hand in the universal "ehhhhh" gesture, which turns into a thumbs down and blowing a raspberry. ]

So I'm gonna, uh. Pick you up. [ A point to Donnie, a scooping motion. ] So I can keep you close and you can gimme another set of eyes on the sitch.

[ And an "I'm watching you" gesture, but with a very specific sweep motion off towards the bad side.

If this situation didn't suck he'd be thrilled to be playing some charades again. ]

[And the fact that Donnie knows Raphael enjoys playing charades is part of the reason why he doesn't tell Raph to just face him and enunciate clearly so Donnie can read his lips. ...but also because Donnie likewise wants to keep an eye on their surroundings.

Raph gets the point across regarding his eye and Donnie nods, flicking his goggles down over his eyes to check for mystic stuff. Random infinite junkyard seems like it should be crawling with mystic bullshit, but he's not picking up anything beyond whatever Raphael's generating as he starts to construct his gigantic avatar, hand down so Donnie can be adequately scooped.

The eye thing is a concern. Especially if it's still bothering Raph, if that didn't clear up when Donnie's own bizarre hallucination did. That could mean the issue with Raph's eye is physiological, and not psychological. It could mean they missed something when they call tried to get each other well.]

Not picking up any mystic interference, [Donnie notes as he clings to the thumb of his brother's giant avatar, sweeping a look over on Raphael's blind-ish side. Just a junkyard stretching out to the horizon, even when Donnie increases the magnification as high as he can. Just...junk.] Not from here, anyway. It looks like we're in some kind of pocket dimension.

[ Donnie is a softie and he indulges his big brother in one-sided charades once in a blue moon and that is what really matters. Raph scoops him up so that he can be Raph's little guy. His rotten little soldier. Etc.

It's good to have eyes that can be trusted, complete with goggles that let those eyes see more than the average turtle might. ]

Pocket dimension, huh? [ He can't punch through dimensions. Yet. ] Kinda sounds like a Hypno thing.

[ Oh wait right. He should probably share that in a way that's easier to express than "giant red avatar to the lil guy on his hand." Like being a normal guy and enunciating clearly. ]

Hypno, yeah; especially if we're-

[wAIT A fuckn
MINUETt] Wait I just heard you! Why did I hear you?!

What's the variable, what's the condition? [The differences are- Raph is Big Size and is holding Donnie in is large ninpo hand. Is that it? -WAIT THE FUCK, WAIT ON THE HOLD THE FUCK. Didn't Leo mention something like this, like when he and Raph were on the train-]

[ He was heard!!! Miracles are real. Some kind of miracle. In some way. Variables and nerd stuff and such.

Raph probably knows what variable means. He doesn't keep it in his active retention pool because he has Donnie. It's a valid line of questioning, though. Why now, what changed.

A kind of feeling, subtle but familiar, in the back of his mind. Good subtle and familiar, not emergency shutdown alien tentacle flashback familiar. Which is like, at least there's that much to be relieved about. But it is-- huh.

What's the mind meld version of a facebook poke? Raph's gonna go for it.

donnie come play farmville with him ]

[Donnie, for all his impatience with everything mystic, is also a being of insatiable curiosity. So maybe he hates it when weird mumbo jumbo things don't make sense, or when his tech is shown up, or when his brothers are just so much better at things than he is-

But the markings on his shoulders and thighs start to glow a bright purple and there's something, something getting his attention. Resting on him like a great big weighted blanket.]

-Yeah, [Donnie says, for once just allowing himself to feel it without analyzing. Later. Once they're back home.

For now, he tilts his head as if listening to something far away, his eyes unfocused but clutching a big tighter onto one of Raph's great big projected fingers.] Yeah, I can hear you.

[ Raph lights up. In a general sort of facial expression way, of course, but also in a metaphorical mystical metaphysical sort of way. His soul is a house and Donnie came home, and it's worth switching lights on to let him know where he is.

Try not to drop a bunch of Raph-brand intensity love into his arms the second he gets in the door. That kind of thing.

(Raph feels a little bit safer too, personally. That might be coming through regardless. As a full four-brother team they're pretty seamless when it counts. As a two-turtle operation, he and Donnie are good for covering each other's blind spots.

They're mutually about as subtle as a brick wall, but at least they're also as solid as a brick wall.) ]

Okay. Good. I like a charade as much as the next guy [ sir you are the only one in this family who does ], but this is way easier. So was that "junk drawer dimension yes" or no?

A solid maybe. [It's really weird, hearing Raph's voice more in his head than through his ears, but at least they can communicate effectively this way. Nevermind that there's some kind of energy, some weird sort of tie between them thrumming like a livewire. It's the same thing that kicked his heart into overdrive when Raph had backed himself right over that waterfall, when he, Leo and Mikey had dove after him without a second thought.

Donnie is equal parts covetous of the ease with which his brothers slide into this state of being, and cautious of what exactly it might do to them, Hamato heritage be damned.] But you and I both hallucinated earlier, if I'm not mistaken. This could all be in our heads.

[ He brings his non-Donnie-holding hand to his chin. ]

Junkyard of the mind. Got it.

[ Had to be a hallucination. Donnie's right here. ]

-- wait, did you hallucinate? You gotta open with that, Donnie!

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draggin myself out of the inbox crypt like

YOU LIIIIIIVE

🥹

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