[As always, Splinter wakes up early. The smells and sights are still strange, but Splinter has reoriented himself. Through the course of the morning, he sees each of his sons in turn to train and access their progress
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[Mike has thrown all the covers off and is sprawled in an extremely uncomfortable-looking position on his futon. He's mumbling in his sleep. Your sharp ears should be able to pick up these phrases:]
[He'd been wondering about that. He puts his gear on, careful to keep a smile on his face as he does so, and then stands, ready to follow Splinter wherever he goes.]
"...pie..."
"...what's a feather, Lucy?..."
"...no... Don... Donnie... stop..."
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[He sits bolt upright, doing a striking block at your hand before he's even fully conscious.]
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A bit breathlessly:]
Ohayou, Master. Sorry about that.
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It is all right, my son.
[Of course, the later part of the mumblings finally register. He looks at Michelangelo with concern.]
Have you been experiencing nightmares?
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Uh, yeah... A little. [A lot.] It's okay, though.
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[His voice drops lower as he speaks, and his ears flick down just slightly. Splinter has bad memories of nearly losing his gentlest son.]
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...yeah. And... other things.
[Things he doesn't want to talk about.]
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[He'll address the "other things" in a moment. Right now, he's going to place his hand on your shoulder.]
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Yeah, I know. He's not even from then. He's from two years before.
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Good. Then you know the nightmares will fade with time. Perhaps you should limit your bedtime snacks as well.
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So, what's up?
[He glances over at Raph's bed, notices he's gone, and turns back to Splinter with a questioning look.]
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It is time to resume a proper training regimen.
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[He'd been wondering about that. He puts his gear on, careful to keep a smile on his face as he does so, and then stands, ready to follow Splinter wherever he goes.]
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I take it that you have kept up with your training....?
[Oh, and he seems to be walking towards a bathroom scale.]
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He looks at the scale curiously, and then at Splinter again. What's this?]
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