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Applause

[....sir this is a text]

Do you want video evidence or can I just tell you I'm clapping on my end?

I suppose I can take you at your word for now.

Your weapon is ready. Come thither

[He's lucky this is text because the NOISE he makes]

I'll be right there!

[He is R U N N I N G he is grappling he would run across the whole lake if he could in order to get to Satori Hills]

[Opens the window, assuming Casey will not want to bother with four flights of stairs or wait for the elevator. ...puts the welcome rug under the window. Don't you dare get dust or dirt in his lab.]

[Oh that's so thoughtful. Casey can see the open window as he swings from the next building over, so it isn't long before there's a thunk of a grapple hitting a few floors up, and a second thunk has Casey grabbing onto the sill and climbing in.]

It's really done? You're so fast! ...Hi, also.

[He's yanking at his boots on the mat.]

[Still startles at the loud THUNK against the building, but not as badly as he could've since he was expecting it to occur sooner or later. Donnie picks up a boxy rod the length of a femur from his worktable and holds it out to Casey, not bothering to get up from his chair.]

The designs actually weren't overly complex. The functions are limited, which I imagine was on purpose in order to keep field repairs to a minimum and to conserve resources. [Donnie points at it.] I still haven't been able to crack future-me's programming language so it might not be able to communicate with your mask, but it does sync up to my own gear at least.

[Honestly he assumed Donatello would take longer because his other projects would take priority, but he's certainly not about to say that, nor would he protest the gift. He accepts the rod with a grateful smile, gazing down at it in amazement.]

It's okay if they can't talk. It was supposed to mostly work on its own anyway, in case the mask was damaged.

[Looking down at the new version, he's genuinely impressed. It's been ages since it looked so... clean. He'd been using the old one for several years, and it'd been as new as anything could be twenty years into an apocalypse, but since then it'd been damaged and repaired so many times it was looking cobbled by the end, even if it still functioned just as well as ever thanks to Donnie's skilled design.

He takes a few steps back to make sure he's not about to damage anything in the room, then activates it so it extends to full size and revs up. Gleaming blades spin around the end, a sound both familiar and achingly nostalgic. This new version looks exactly the same as the old one, or near enough he can't tell, and more importantly it feels right. He can remember the first time he'd held it in his hands and felt it vibrate all up and down his arms, a heaviness he'd had to get used to. Listening with quiet wonder to the instructions for its maintenance and use. How pleased Uncle Tello had been that he loved it. (The manic laugh he'd heard two rooms over when sensei and Raph saw it for the first time.)

I could hug you, he thinks. He does not.]

Amazing... it's amazing! You're amazing! [He drags his attention away from the chainstick to grin at Donnie.] Thank you!

[Maybe Donnie prioritized once he got a good look at the plans, just because it was this incredibly curious mixture of familiar and new. It's almost as if he could see his future self's thought process in the plans; why he put what component where, how he designed the grip to fit, the chain to keep the teeth from snagging. A little surreal, but fascinating overall, to recognize himself in a blueprint he's never even touched.

There's also that. The look on Casey's face, the appreciation in his voice. Donnie's not exactly world-class when it comes to picking up on particular cues, but Casey is looking at him like he's ten feet tall, like he's a hundred years of wisdom and knowledge. Like he's greater than he is...or like he's just as great as Donnie knows he can be.

Donnie sits in his chair, leg crossed over his knee, watching Casey test the chainstick before clutching it to his chest and beaming at Donatello. You're amazing! He is, isn't he? Why does it feel so strange to hear, then? Maybe it's that look on his face, that uncomfortably open admiration.

Wow, Dee! I can't believe you got the mixer working again! These things are like five hundred dollars, I can't wait to use it!

Donnie tilts his head.] You're welcome. It's good, then? Balance is okay? Let me know right away if anything needs to be tweaked, don't just deal with it. [Casey can probably make his own adjustments on it, but...maybe Donnie wants to be responsible for that.]

Oh, sure.

[He hadn't actually planned on bothering Donnie with maintenance requests, but Donnie's not the type to offer to do work he isn't interested in, so. Huh.

He shuts down the whirring chainsaw and flips the safety, taking a few moments to examine the finer details now that he's done the initial test drive and cursory glance. The craftsmanship and assembly are expert, which isn't a surprise considering the engineer in front of him. It was never going to be an exact copy, as this world has so many more resources than the future had to offer, but it really is astonishing how close Donnie came to his first weapon. He can't call this better or worse than the old one, it's just... different in a way he struggles to quantify. Sort of like a mirror image: the same, but different enough that he can recognize something's changed. It takes him a bit for it to click: the quality is improved. He'd always loved it and found it perfect for him, but Uncle Tello had made the occasional comment about being unsatisfied with something or another, mostly material-related. This feels like the version he would've liked to make, with fewer limits, in a better world.

He swings it a few times, feeling the weight as it moves through the air, and spins it between his fingers and around his arm, not unlike how Donatello might've wielded his own staff. It wobbles oddly the first time, but when he catches it and tries again, the movement is smoother.]

The balance is different, but I had to replace the guide bar of the old one with a different metal last year, so I got used to the weight being off. This is more like the original. [He holds it balanced on both palms, hefting it experimentally, then nods.] Bit of training, and it'll be good.

[It's not as if Donnie spends his time bo training in front of a mirror, but he's definitely done it often enough to know what the feeling looks like. And what Casey is doing over there, it has some of his flair.

...weird.]

-excellent, [Donnie says after he recovers, clearing his throat and spinning in his chair to face his workbench. It's just a strange thing to accept on a level deeper than surface, that this kid actually did grow up around them, and they got older. Even if Casey Sr. had a baby nine months from now (yikes), Donnie would still be in his thirties by the time Casey is fifteen. Too weird.] If you kill anyone with that, I've never seen it in my life. [except for the fact where it's got the logo he slaps all over his shit right on the handle lmao]

[Casey makes a face at that, entirely missing whatever just happened, too busy messing around with the new staff.]

Usually try to avoid killing people, but sure. Lips are zipped.

[Infected Krang monsters who are still mostly people are a weird acceptable middle ground, and he did chainsaw one of the Foot Clan in the face trying to get the Key, but you know. Desperate times. (They're probably fine.)

He relaxes his posture at last, clicking the switch to transform the staff back into its more portable mode, tucking it away in its usual spot at his belt.]

So... what do you want for it? Is this for the lab work, do you need me to get something for you, do I owe you a favour...?

[Not accusatory or anything; he's very matter-of-fact in his tone. Reciprocity is important, after all. Donnie's future self might've made it a gift, but while he's been at times too presumptuous about the past versions of the turtles, he's not so bold to assume Donnie's being charitable to him this early.]

[squints at in confusion] You're already working for me, yes? [Like, under the table, not like a legal employee whose paperwork he needs to file]

Edited 2023-09-19 01:35 (UTC)

[Much as he'd love to call it working with, not for, now is really not the time for nuance or argument. He doesn't want chainstick privileges revoked, they're still in Donnie's apartment.]

Y...es? Unless firing me is on the table.

Unlikely. I need someone who can tell the difference between a spanner and a screwdriver, and individuals who meet that criteria are in depressingly short supply. [Waves Casey's concerns aside, unbothered.] Just take it. It was fun to work off of future me's designs, anyhow.

[It's a very Donatello answer, which makes it easy to accept. Caught up in the moment, Casey takes a step towards him, his arms beginning to move, but almost just as quickly he catches himself and takes that same step back. His clumsy aborted gesture has him frozen for a moment, unsure how to correct, and eventually overcorrects with a bow.]

Then, thank you again! I really appreciate it. Do you need any work done right now? If not, I'll get out of your way.

[He's assuming the answer is going to be no since Donnie is basically always busy, and in truth he really wants to go out and train with it, but he'd kick himself later if he didn't ask.]

[Casey gets the briefest of wary up-down eyes at that almost hug gesture, but it's aborted soon enough. Into a bow, which is..........weird. Did not enjoy literally any of that specific segment of interaction.]

I don't need you right now, so you can go. [Please go.]

[Message received, loud and clear, and for the first time the feeling is mutual- he has some complicated feelings to work through that he absolutely knows Donatello wants no part in.

With a quick turn on his heels, Casey grabs his shoes and jumps right out the window, still grinning like a goof. He's gone!]

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