meanandgreen | IC Inbox

There's a ritual they all go through before heading for a fight. They tend to their weapons, go through the motions of light katas. Meditate. Psyche themselves up into that adrenaline-fueled focus that makes the blood flow and the bones ache for action. For the feel of the night air and pavement under their feet. For the feel of flesh pounding against flesh and the smell of blood.

All day today, Raph can see his brother going through these rituals. In the morning he cleans his swords with extra care, re-wraps their worn bindings and moves through smooth kata after kata well into the afternoon. During dinner, he eats lighter than usual, and has that quiet focus in his eyes that's way too intense to just be nothing.

Raphael has never been one for subtlety, but he knows his brothers like he knows his own skin. Their rhythm, their habits, the way the air shifts around them.

Tonight that's changed, and he can already smell the blood.

After dinner, Raph follows in his brother's shadow, leans against the doorway, trying not to look too excited. Trying not to give away how much his muscles ache for action. If there's promise of a fight in the air, he wants in. He won't let Leo go without him.

"You goin' somewhere, Leo?" He says nonchalantly, crossing his arms and trying to look relaxed. Play it cool. Last thing he wants to do is look too eager and have Leo tell him no.

Not that it'd stop him. Having Leo actually agree would just make it easier.

Last night, right on schedule, Leonardo had slipped into the dark, empty suite that he and Raphael shared all those months ago. He'd checked for signs of disturbance in the settled dust, reset any traps that looked sketchy, and then settled himself in front of the console to check for the messages that he's recently grown accustomed to receiving.

The screen had flickered to life and displayed one recording from Monet, just as expected. What he hadn't expected was what the recording contained: a mission. A tip Monet had received through her feelers that she wanted to follow up on... and an invitation to Leo to join her.

He didn't sleep much last night, but come morning, he's still as focused as he's ever been. He goes through the motions to ease his nerves - cleans his katana, meditates, keeps his meals light and his interactions with his housemates lighter. They don't know about Monet, and he plans to keep it that way. Especially with Raph.

This is one of the first gestures of trust Monet has willingly shown him, and he's not going to blow it.

Shortly after dinner ends, he slips into his room, gathers his gear, and pulls his katana over his shell. As he turns to leave, adjusting the strap over his plastron, he freezes in place at the sight of his brother leaning in the doorway.

Crap.

He should've known Raph would pick up on his behavior. Stupid, stupid. A bolt of panic sears through him like wildfire, but he quashes it, the strap in his hand crumpling as he channels the tension there instead.

"Just... for a run." He's a bad, bad liar, and he knows it. But Raph tagging along is just about the worst imaginable scenario he can think of right now.

"Yeah?" He drawls with a tilt of the head. This's a game as old as his memory - when one brother finds something good, really good and worth protecting, they have to pretend they don't have anything. They have to keep it and covet it and hide it in a secret place.

Tonight, Leo has something good. Good enough to lie about it, and he always was such a crappy liar.

"Guess you wouldn't mind if I tag along, then," he says, pushing off the doorway with a flash of teeth that isn't quite a smile. Something fiercer. He wants in, he wants a fight, and if it's good enough to lie over, it has to be really good.

Leo knows when he's fighting a losing battle; the moment his brother gives that flashing grin, gets that hard glint in his eye, he knows there's no chance in hell Raph is going to let this go. He's as busted as is humanly possible.

Great. Leo also knows his brother, and he knows that the second he lays eyes on Monet, his hackles are going to go up. What she and Leo have been building up to this point has been slow, fragile, and tonight is a milestone. He can't endanger that. Leo loves his brother, but he can be a real pain in the shell when it comes to playing nice with others.

He grits his teeth. "I don't think that's a good idea, Raph."

The words are forced and annoyed; he's not even pretending to bother with his lie anymore. If Raph is going to butt in no matter what he does, at the very least, he's going to make his displeasure clear.

The gruff excitement that played across his face falls in an instant. Leo's annoyed he's trying to tag along, and it's hard not to be at least a little disappointed. But disappointment quickly turns to a hard knot of anger in the pit of his stomach. "Why?" he growls, almost mocking. "It ain't like you're doin' something important."

He's onto you, bro. He has been since this morning. The jig is up, and you better not be planning something stupid.

Irritated by Raph's derisive tone, he opens his mouth to retort, but nothing comes out. Not important, right. Huffing loudly, Leo yanks at his strap again, pulling it tight against his plastron. He turns to snatch a stack of shuriken off of a table and busies himself with sliding them into his belt.

"I have something to take care of." No sooner are the words out of his mouth that he finishes his task, and he takes one step forward as though to walk right through his brother out the doorway. "Don't worry about it. I'll be back by tomorrow night."

"Yeah, that's real reassurin', Leo," he sneers, sidestepping right into his brother's path, his eyes narrowing a challenge. "Now what's so not important that you gotta lie to me about it?"

He's not gonna move until he gets some answers. Leo should know that telling him to not worry about it only has the opposite affect.

Reaching up to poke his brother square in the plastron, he lets it punctuate every word. "You're gearin' up for a fight and I want in."

Reflexively, he slaps that hand right away, a growl rasping in his throat. This is exactly why he wanted to go alone. He and Raph can barely get along at the best of times, and with how crummy the last couple of months have been, this mission would be like throwing two angry cats in a garbage can and banging on it with a metal bat.

He sees no way around this. Perfect.

"I'm meeting someone for a job. That's it." He says it like he's spitting out poison. He knows being difficult about the truth is a futile effort at this point, but he doesn't care. If his brother is going to give him hell about this, he'll give it right back.

His hackles go up the second contact is made, the sting of the slap on the hand singing through his veins. He wasn't angry before, but he's getting there quick.

"That's it, huh? What kind of job, Leo? You thinkin' of servin' the Shredder again?"

The words come out like venom, and he regrets them the minute he says it. But it's true. The last time Leo acted like this, he almost sold his soul to the freakin' devil.

Before he was just playing around, but now the kid gloves are off. Big time. He has to figure out what the hell his brother is up to before he makes a big mistake.

Once again, his mouth opens to make a biting remark. Once again, the words die in his throat. This time for another reason entirely.

It feels like his blood has frozen, stopped dead still in his veins. Damn it, Raph. Why? Why did you have to go there? He's tried hard all this time not to draw the comparisons - because they're there, hanging on the periphery of his mind like blood-soaked scarves, but he's refused to acknowledge them. It's different. He's been careful. He'd rather die in shame than lead his brothers into another 'ally' with a blade hidden behind their back. (And if that's what he's doing tonight, at least it would have only been him.)

It hits too close to home in more ways than one. So maybe that's why Leo's face goes through a flurry of tight emotions, from fury to doubt to perfect stillness, all within a matter of seconds.

"I'm going." Perfectly flat; completely civil. He steps around to pass his brother on his left.

"Then I'm comin' with you," he growls, his hand reaching for the tsuka of his sai as Leo manages to shove past. "Just try and stop me."

It's as simple as that. If Leo's gonna make a dumb mistake, he's gonna be there to watch his stupid back. Because Leo's his brother, and no matter how big of an idiot he is, Raph always, always has their back. Nothing can stop him now.

He stops, his head turning slightly as Raph speaks. Try and stop you... he already knows that's not going to work in this lifetime. It never has, and it never will. He's annoyed with his brother, and he can't help that, but he knows exactly why Raph wants to come along. It's not about fun and games anymore.

It's about saving Leo from his own foolish, trusting nature. He can't help that, either.

He's annoyed, but he can't be mad. It's good to know someone is watching his back. Everything that happens on this mission... he'll just have to remember that his brother always comes first. No matter how big of a pain in the shell he is.

Without a word, Leo heads off towards the window, slides it open, and slips out into the darkening sky. He doesn't shut it behind him.

(After This)

Hours later, Raph returns to the house in a hell of a lot fouler mood than he left. His thoughts are racing along with his heart, cataloging every single word he's got in store for his dear brother when he gets back.

Did Leo seriously make yet another deal with the devil? Does he really need to put up with this crud again!? Whose side does he think he's on, anyway?

And that woman. That freakin' woman. He wishes he could've torn her face off when he had the chance.

Teeth grit, he paces the living room floor just inside the front door, huffing like a mad bull. He didn't get a chance to bury his knuckles in her head, and the wall is a cheap substitute, but it's something. At least it's something.

Edited 2014-03-30 05:11 (UTC)

Even if the slam of the front door was some how miraculously missed, which by the way it wasn't, the pacing and punching and gnashing that followed would be kind of hard to overlook. And so Mike doesn't he bother to try.

He emerges from his bedroom still carrying the book he'd been reading, and pads his way towards the kitchen.

"Hey Raph," he says easily, as if his cousin were behaving in the most natural way possible.

Let's be honest...he really kind of is, for Raph anyway.

Raph is so caught in his angry little bubble he hardly pays attention to Mike's approaching footsteps until he's invading his space by trying to talk to him. It interrupts his furious train of thought like a rock pitched into the gears of a rusty machine, dissolving the mechanic drone of rage inside his head into a shrieking shudder-clanging.

"What!?" He snarls, wheeling around like he's seriously considering eviscerating him on the spot. How dare he interrupt the storm he's got brewing. How dare he even freakin' exist right now.

Mike freezes mid-step, his hands raised in a surrender, his eyes wide with shock.

"H-hey. As in hi. As in hello. Just hello. hi?"

It takes a second, just a flash of eyes and a snort of breath before he's pacing back toward the window again. Focus on Leo. It's Leo he's really pissed at.

"Yeah. Hi. Whatever," he grunts, glaring at his reflection in the dark window. Leo better hurry his ass up.

Mike remains frozen, hands up and eyes wide, long after Raph turns back towards the window.

Something's up. Way up. And for once, it's not Mike's fault. A wave of joy washes over him. Of course...it recedes just about as quickly as it arrived.

If Raph's in the house, pacing like a caged tiger, because he's angry at someone, and that someone isn't Mike? That someone has to be Leo.
And that...is quite the opposite of good.

"The Pizza Guy's late again, isn't he?"

Rather than continue on his course towards the kitchen, Mike has decided to perch on the back of the couch. A sure sign he's not going anywhere anytime soon.

Mike's poorly-timed humor isn't funny. It's never funny. In fact, it only pisses Raph off more. What he really wants to do is punch through the whole damn window. It takes more than a little restraint to pound his fist on the window frame, growling like an animal.

"Is your Leo stupid?" He snarls, wheeling back on Mike again. "Because I think mine was born a few brain cells too short. Makin' the same mistakes over and over and draggin' me into it! Makin' me out to be the bad guy while he's gettin' all buddy-buddy with another evil chick that's put it in his head that makin' nice with freakin' Evandau is a good idea."

He grabs at his own head like the sheer stupidity of this whole situation is gonna make it explode. And it might. Man, it feels like it might. With a frustrated growl, he lets his hands fall back to his sides.

"I can't believe it! I can't freaking believe it."

Mike winces when Raph's fist connects with the window frame, and nearly loses his balance when the enraged turtle turns on him.

"I don't know that stupid is the word I'd use," he starts, trying to choose his words as carefully as possible. In time stupid might be a word Mike would use to describe his eldest brother, but a lot more has to happen to his family for that to occur.

"He does seem to keep fighting the same fight over and over again."
Usually that fight is with Raph, and it usually ends the exact same way every time. Raph storms off, goes out into the night, and doesn't return home until the morning sky is just starting to go blue around the edges.

"Maybe it's just a defect in the model?" he offers.

Raph snorts bitterly, a sardonic kind of grin twisting his mouth sideways. "Oh, he's defective, all right. So freakin' defective he can't learn from his own mistakes even after they stab him in the back!

I try to talk some sense into him but no! I'm the bad guy here. I'm always the bad guy. But you know what? I'm done playin' this little game of his. Next time he needs me to bail him out, I'm done. I'm just walkin' away."

Snarling through his teeth, he starts pacing the room again. "He can get his sorry butt killed for all I care."

Edited 2014-04-07 04:24 (UTC)

As Big Fat Lies^tm go, this is the gran'daddy of them all.
The very idea that Raph, any Raph, would abandon any of his brothers in a time of need is laughable. At least, to Mike it is.

However, far be it from Mike to get in the way of some well-placed hyperbole.]

I don't know that anyone would blame you, honestly. I mean, you can lead a horse to water, and all that...

The words have barely left Mike's mouth when another figure comes slipping through the window, landing on all fours with all the sleek grace of a serpent. The only thing that breaks this image is when he straightens up, grabs the windowsill in one hand, and slams it shut with enough force to rattle the whole room.

His gaze tears across the suite, passing over Michaelangelo like he's barely more than another piece of furniture in the room, and locks onto Raphael. His dearest, most infuriating brother. No one asked him to come along. No one asked him to make a complete ass out of both of them. All of this effort he's put into building an alliance with Monet, and Raph might have just flushed it all down the sewers.

His mind is blank. He's not even thinking about words to say. He just stares, face dark and expressionless, all but inviting his brother to strike first - verbally or physically.

Raph charges him like a bull, every step pounding the floor closing the gap by just inches, glowering hate into his brother's eyes.

"Oh, so you're mad at me, huh?" He snarls, poking Leo hard in the plastron. Then that poke quickly turns into a shove. "Are you freakin' stupid!? Do we really got to do this again, Leo? Because I'm gettin' real sick of playin' your little game."

Edited 2014-04-07 05:27 (UTC)

Not a moment sooner does Raph touch Leo than his calm shatters, exploding outward in a violent force that colors his eyes and face with nothing but pure, righteous fury. He barely stumbles back at the push, planting his heel and shoving forward so he's right back within breathing distance of his brother.

"You don't have to do anything, Raphael! You're the one who forced yourself in on it, thinking it was all some kind of game. I told you to stay the shell out of it!"

[Action: March 6th]

[Action: March 6th]

[Action: March 6th]

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