Note: First one is short and sweet, others will probably be longer... maybe even shorter... depends... hah...
Title: Angle
Summary: Donatello plays what he sees as a "simple game" against Casey.
Character(s): Donatello, Casey, Raphael
Rated: PG
Setting: 2012 TMNT
Dis: I don't own TMNT
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Donatello stuck out his tongue between the gap of his upper row of teeth, rust colored eyes focused on the task at hand. The smooth, polished cue he held felt familiar against the roughened skin of his hands: though it was shorter and lighter than his bo staff he was still an expert at handling the piece of equipment. Numbers and equations formulating the probability of making this shot popped up before his eyes, invisible to others but clear as day to him as he slowly pulled the cue back between his opposable thumb and what would be considered his middle finger. Inhaling his eyes quickly scanned over the field of solids and stripes one more time before launching the stick forward, the chalk covered end slamming into the white cue ball. A small billow of blue dust puffed up where the cue ball used to be as the white sphere ricocheted off the side of the table, slithered between a solid, yellow two-ball and the dreaded black eight-ball: and then slowly rolled to kiss the purple-stripped twelve into the corner pocket. Smirking he looked up into wide, blue eyes that narrowed suspiciously.
"You play this before?"
"Nope," said Donatello as he calmly grabbed the chalk piece and twisted over the end of his cue. "First time."
"Seriously?" asked the overly-muscular hockey player that recently joined their little group.
Donatello hated him from the moment he saw him, mostly because of the attraction he saw in the depths of April's eyes when she first laid eyes on him. Jealousy was an ugly part of him that was coming out more and more. Oh, April acted like she couldn't stand the older teen but Donatello could read her like a book. Had always been able to… He knew it was only a matter of time before she stopped turning the hockey player down, which would hurt: since she had made it clear to Donatello that they would only be friends.
"Really, Case, it's his first time," chirped in his brother, Raphael. Donatello lazily turned his gaze back down to the table. Raphael was another that took a large interest in the hockey masked vigilante. They were the best of friends, which HAD mellowed out the lair a little bit. It seemed like whenever Raphael felt the need to pound something in, Casey was there to help direct him to a group of Dragons. THAT was the ONE thing Donatello liked about the brute: the ability to deflect Raphael's temper.
"It's honestly not that hard," said Donatello smoothly, lowering the chalk back down onto the smooth, wooden surface of the table. "All you need to do is map out the correct angle of which you want the cue ball to go, as well as predict the correct amount of force needed to move the ball and taking its trajectory into-"
"Donnie! Take the shot, man!" interrupted Raphael, rolling his radioactive green eyes. "Before I map out the path of my foot to your shell!"
"Touchy, Raph," chastised Donatello before bending forward. "This is an art. Something not to be rushed. Also… Fifty bucks is on the line!"
"True." Raphael watched as Donatello lifted his pool cue, twisting and turning it certain ways before lining up his next shot. He smirked as Donatello called two more stripes to land in different pockets and when he masterfully carried out sinking the fourteen and thirteen into opposite pockets he twisted his head around to a gobsmacked Casey Jones. "Yer totally screwed. I told ya not to take that bet."
"Ah crap," grumbled Casey, already reaching into his wallet as Donatello lined up the eight-ball for the win.
END
