"If the good Lord had intended us to walk . . ." [closed | active]

[imcondiments]

Characters: H.M. Murdock and Donatello

Setting/Location: The Lookout, Level 4

Date & Time: backdated to Day 3, afternoonish?

Warnings: Umm, people plotting to start an unlicensed aviation industry? IDEK

Summary: The people of Willaknapp were terribly inconsiderate and failed to invent the airplane. Murdock and Donatello have taken it upon

Comments

[donatechno]

To say Donatello had been avoiding those aboard the Caravan was an understatement; he'd been practicing his ninja skills in a way that would make Splinter more than proud since he boarded the large wooden structure. So far, avoiding the general populace had worked out--his roommate had strangely disappeared when Donatello offered to meet him, and so he had had the room to himself and had used it to hide out. Of course, he left for meals and fast showers, but that was where the ninja practice came in. And as no one had gone shrieking about giant turtles, he doubted he'd been spotted

[imcondiments]

"That's me." Murdock replied cheerfully, turning from where he'd been leaning with his elbows on the railing of the Lookout balcony. "Guess that makes you . . ." He trailed off abruptly, raising his eyebrows. The figure before him was . . . green. And masked. And had a shell.

Well, now. That was different. Murdock cocked his head, making a thoughtful noise -- and then chuckled. "Huh. Well, now, I imagine this'd explain why you're so sold on open-minded folks."

Which, for better or worse, Murdock was -- and really, considering how very strange the last few days had been (even by his standards), who was he to judge? Granted, he had about a thousand questions now bouncing around in his brain . . . but first things first.

He advanced a few steps, grinning amiably and holding out one hand. "Donatello, I presume? H.M. Murdock, at your service."

[donatechno]

Donatello replied first with a nervous look at the initial tense silence, and then with a much easier smile when the man before him held out his hand. He offered his own green, three-fingered one and gripped the pale human hand just enough as he brought it into a shake.

"I'm Donatello, yes. It's great to meet you." He sparred a sheepish laugh as he let go of the man's hand, and looked down at himself as if to see what Murdock did.

"When you look like this in New York City, the open-minded quickly become your best friends." He flashed a smile, still slightly sheepish.

"I would have warned you if I wasn't afraid you'd call it off as soon as I told you about the shell."

[imcondiments]

Murdock chuckled and buried his hands in the pockets of his battered leather flight jacket. "Shouldn't've worried. I might've pegged ya for delusional, but it wouldn't have stopped me any. I mean, I used to room with a guy thought he was Genghis Khan and he was a decent sort. Wouldn't have trusted him to help design a plane, but that's because he was lousy at math."

He grinned. "Truth is I'm used to bein' judged by my cover -- so I try not to turn it around on folks if I can help it. Figure that should go double in a situation like this. And heck, even if I'm wrong and I am hallucinating all of this after all, it's no reason to go losing my manners."