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.
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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.