chakra 008 → [Voice] [Action]
[Leonardo has A Problem.]
[Okay, he knows he's supposed to be having some kind of PTSD thing going on right now - Malnosso kidnappings, experiments, oh noooo - but at present it's really a lot more annoying that he can't even stand up properly without everything tilting and feeling like he's three stories higher than he actually is and promptly crashing to the ground moments later. He hasn't felt this way since he was a child whose head spun and stomach clenched every time he got more than five or so feet up off of the ground, and to be frank, he hasn't missed the sensation at all.]
[He gives a slight groan and staggers to his feet, making a shaking beeline for the nearest tree. He doesn't know how his journal found its way back to him, and he had been previously certain that he could get home on his own: nothing else hurts but his head and he's pretty sure he's uninjured. If it weren't for this...vertigo, or whatever it is, he'd be fine and that's really damn irritating.]
[He flips the journal open, barely noticing that he's slipped down the length of the tree a bit except for the fact that his vision swims just a little less. No matter how much he'd like to filter this, his brain can't really get past the cognitive action "pick up book stay balanced damn you talk". He'll sob over his humiliation later. In the meantime, a coarse, slightly dreamy-sounding voice bubbles over the journal.]
Anyone...out there? Raph? Donnie?
[Okay, he knows he's supposed to be having some kind of PTSD thing going on right now - Malnosso kidnappings, experiments, oh noooo - but at present it's really a lot more annoying that he can't even stand up properly without everything tilting and feeling like he's three stories higher than he actually is and promptly crashing to the ground moments later. He hasn't felt this way since he was a child whose head spun and stomach clenched every time he got more than five or so feet up off of the ground, and to be frank, he hasn't missed the sensation at all.]
[He gives a slight groan and staggers to his feet, making a shaking beeline for the nearest tree. He doesn't know how his journal found its way back to him, and he had been previously certain that he could get home on his own: nothing else hurts but his head and he's pretty sure he's uninjured. If it weren't for this...vertigo, or whatever it is, he'd be fine and that's really damn irritating.]
[He flips the journal open, barely noticing that he's slipped down the length of the tree a bit except for the fact that his vision swims just a little less. No matter how much he'd like to filter this, his brain can't really get past the cognitive action "pick up book stay balanced damn you talk". He'll sob over his humiliation later. In the meantime, a coarse, slightly dreamy-sounding voice bubbles over the journal.]
Anyone...out there? Raph? Donnie?