Disclaimer: I do not own TMNT 2012.
Disclaimer: I do not own TMNT 2012.
It's official: Having alt-dimension Donnie around only made things worse.
Two weeks have passed since he FORCEFULLY moved in to NYC's family of ninja mutants and to the teenaged members of the family, he made their lives a living (s)hell.
He was downright ill-tempered, having quarrels mostly with equally-grouchy Raph and sometimes with Leo who was somewhat paranoid about his position as leader being taken away from him by the time-and-space traveler. Mikey couldn't keep up with him, especially since the brainiac always gave him death glares which could have made Chris Bradford pee his pants. Sadly, the orange-masked turtle had once done just that.
He was also unsociable. He spent most of his time in his room, working on whatever it was he worked on. He had become the first to wake up in the morning instead of Leo, rising from his bed at 4AM to eat breakfast ahead of the others. This way, he wouldn't have to join them at the table and waste his time with those baka, as he calls them. On night patrols, he would usually lag behind and keep his distance, like how one would when in line with a person suffering from leprosy in front.
And finally, he was a complete show-off, or that was what Raph thought. He generally stays away from the training dojo, saying that the experiences in his home dimension had driven him to master the ways of ninjutsu. But there were those days when he'd drop by and watch the turtles do their training, then scoff afterwards, remarking that compared to him, they were just novices, even with their fifteen years of learning and preparations.
Unfortunately, today was one of said days.
"Not enough," Donatello tsk-tsked, standing in the doorway. "Seriously, is that how pathetic you baka are?"
Raph growled. He badly wanted to teach that bigheaded jerk a lesson or two. Good thing his brothers were able to hold him back, though with much difficulty. Seeing the red-masked turtle restrained (sorta), the brainiac pushed on.
"You're all just a waste of time. Even for Shredder."
"Shut up, you arrogant, egoistic son of a gun!" Raphael finally yelled out, trying desperately to free himself from Leo's and Mikey's slipping grips. "You keep on going and Imma scratch your eyes out!"
The disfigured turtle just smirked as he entered the dojo, an air of confidence in the atmosphere around him. Time to let out the big gun.
"No wonder why your Donatello died so easily. He's a total wimp, probably more than you ahondura are."
Now, both the eldest and the youngest were also glaring at him. The two turned to each other, nodded and let Raphael go. The sai wielder lunged at the alt-dimension brainiac, armed with his signature weapons. Donatello's smirk turned into a small frown as he jumped up and used his bo-staff to hit Raph as he sped under him.
"You call that an attack?" The purple-masked turtle taunted, landing back on the tatami nimbly.
There were battle cries behind him so he turned around, just in time to see Leonardo and Michelangelo leap into the air and at him. Sighing, he swung his bo around, striking not only the two above him, but also Raphael who was about to attack from behind. All three turtles fell to the floor with deafening thuds.
"How weak can you teme get, huh?" Donatello shouted more in frustration than as an insult. "Just because one of you is dead that doesn't mean you all have to wallow around and follow him to the afterlife! Get your sorry shells up and fight!"
Shakily and slowly, Leo, Raph and Mikey got on their feet, eyes burning with anger and determination. Tightening their grips on their weapons, they rushed in again, the dojo echoing their battle cries. They slashed furiously at the brainiac who simply blocked their blind attacks with his long staff.
"Made made dame!" He cried out.
Using his staff as support, he jumped and did a full, midair split, his right foot colliding with Michelangelo's chest and his left foot crashing into Leonardo's jaw. The force of the impacts sent the two flying straight into the wall on either side of the dojo, their weapons soaring out of their hands. With his feet now back on the floor, Donatello made a solid, downward stroke with his staff, bringing it down on Raphael and effectively pinning him down on the tatami.
"Your lack of control over your anger will surely be your downfall, Raphael," the disfigured turtle said darkly, eyes white and unfeeling, "try to keep it in check."
"Donatello!" Came the call of a deep, elderly voice.
Master Splinter had just entered the dojo, frowning and lips curled into a slight snarl. The brainiac stood up straight as he slipped his bo back into the belt holster on his back.
"Just teaching your gaki a few tricks, Splinter-san ," he reasoned nonchalantly.
"It is I who teach here, not you," the old rat half-growled, coming up to him with an air of authority. "I will tolerate your displeasing presence in my home, but I will NOT tolerate you hurting my sons. You dare lay a finger on them again after this and I will see to it that you will suffer the consequences."
Splinter felt a stab to his heart when he saw the hurt expression in alt-dimension Donatello's burgundy eyes, reminding him of his late Donatello's somewhat weak-heartedness towards painful chidings. Nonetheless, it disappeared as fleetingly as it came and was replaced by a stone cold glare.
"Tch," was all the time-and-space traveler could spit out in anger and loathing.
The rat opened his mouth to say something and take his scold back, but Donatello pushed his way through, shoving his right shoulder into Splinter's rather roughly. Splinter turned around to see him exit the dojo, his feet pounding heavily against the cement floor as he walked away.
'Donatello…'
The past two weeks weren't easy for the father of the mutant family. Hearing his three sons complain about the freeloader had not only been ear-banging, but also heart-aching as well. He wanted to talk to Donatello about this, to try to at least lighten the heavy load of suffering and scarring experiences he carried on his marred shoulders. But how could he when the purple-masked turtle distanced himself from the ones who were struggling to welcome and accept him with open arms?
As Splinter helped his bruised sons up, his sensitive ears picked up footsteps heading towards the dojo. He had the teensiest hope that it was Donatello coming back to check on how the other turtles were doing, but noted that the footsteps were just too light. That was when April O'Neil peered through the doorway, panting and eyes wide as if she had seen a ghost.
Oh, wait…
"Can anybody tell me why Donnie bumped into me earlier and went to his room when he's supposed to be dead?"
A/N
Sorry for the crappy chapter. Just wanted to approach the soft side of things a bit *rubs the back of her head*.
Anyways, thanks for your reviews! Really perked me up when I read them and I practically went all jittery and stuff. They truly are inspirations for me to write on. ^^
But seriously, though. It freaked me out a bit when I portrayed how cold alt-dimension Donnie is. He really needs to chillax (chill + relax). XD
I liked the way how I got April in there at the end of the chapter. Yes, she'll be having more appearances from now on, but not really as much as I want to so that she'll look like a mob character or something like that. LOL
Japanese Vocab Corner
Tatami – Japanese bamboo/straw mat, the ones you see carpeting dojos and Japanese homes.
"Made made dame!" – "Not enough!", but can also mean "Too weak!" or "Needs more practice!". Referenced from the anime Prince Of Tennis.
Why I put two disclaimers in this chapter is because I forgot to put one in the past chapter and I'm too lazy to edit it in. XP