tushanshu | [voice; action]

[voice]

[Exploring and ninja-ing around is turning up a whole lot of dead ends and questions with no answers, so now Raphael is going to try his last resort.

Conversing with strangers.

Making sure he has his voice only function on (pretending that little SNAFU with it in his earlier conversation didn't happen) he reluctantly addresses his fellow...strand-ees.]

Okay, seriously. How many of you people actually buy that "you are in the in-between" story?

[the mystic new-age voice for the quote helps set the atmosphere, yes it is necessary]

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[action]

[Before this post, Raphael will be swimming around in the Water Sector, trying to keep as hidden as possible but needing to surface to breathe and also sneak back up onto the docks occasionally when he can't cross sections in water. He's a stealthy little bugger, so the average Joe might miss him, but anybody with serious training or extra-sharp senses might find him.

...or you might catch him when he's losing his temper and angrily kicking over a barrel after talking to yet another tree-hugging native yokel, whatever.]

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[Raphael also crosses his arms tightly, and any time he catches the other Raphael's gaze he shoots him a few glares of his own. Fuck you dude, he'll fight you later.

None of this shit Leo's saying is making sense though. Draco? Alternate dimensions, Daimyo's son? What the fuck?]

What year is it where you're from? [If they're eighteen, then it's got to be 2016. Unless they're on some freakazoid version of Earth where it's like...the fourth century of the rule of Darth Vader or what-the-fuck ever.]

[Okay, fine you can be in the conversation too. But that doesn't mean he hates you any less.

...And this is when he realizes they have the exact same body language, and debates changing his posture just to prove that this guy is not him. But that might make it look like he cares, which he doesn't, so he just stays as he is and stubbornly pretends he didn't acknowledge it in the first place.

This bites.

But okay. He's listening to Leo, and that theory of his is pretty solid, much as he's wary of actually believing it. He remembers Mikey going on and on about those freak-o "super turtles" from the world he got sent to. He just hopes this kid is from someplace a lot less moronic.]

2007.

[He says it like it's the dumbest question he's ever been asked. If he's from a different universe, that's probably not even relevant. But whatever.]

Okay, so maybe he's from another dimension. Or maybe he's just some trick cooked up by the Emperor. There's no way of tellin' for sure.

[Hearing one of his earlier theories echoed back at him does elicit a thoughtful 'hmm' out of Leo, but honestly, he's not sure about that either - they've been nice and quiet, keeping their heads down. If there's a reason for them to suddenly be interesting enough to the Emperor for her to pull a stunt like that, he's not seeing it. Unless they were randomly picked to be the guinea pigs of some new experiment...which, with their luck, he might believe.]

[He doesn't think so, though. He's silent as he listens to his brother rattle off their year, eyes narrowed in thought.]

Oh yeah, I'm definitely a royal spy. [Can't you tell by all the "getting caught and beaten" things that are happening?

You know what? Raph doesn't even know why he's still here. He's obviously not being included in this conversation for any reason beyond Leonardo feeling obligated to include him, and the longer stays the more sour the taste in the back of his throat gets. Especially after he sees the way this Raphael stands and folds his arms, which is exactly like him.

He's not like this psychopath.]

Y'know what? You two've got this covered. I'm leaving.

[He flips his hand dismissively and turns to leave. He's more surly than pissed right now, and he just wants to be alone to wallow in his misery. Punch a few walls or something.]

[So now what? Maybe he isn't a spy. But that doesn't mean Raph likes the idea of another one of him wandering around the city doing who knows what.]

Oh no you don't! Nobody's goin' anywhere 'til we figure this out. Got it?

[Don't make him come after you. He'd be more than happy for another excuse to pound the kid into paste.]

[Leonardo, however, has an entirely different question for the younger turtle - and as if neither Raphael had even spoken, he barrels right into it.]

Raph...are any of your brothers here with you?

[No matter how well-meaning Leonardo's question is, it just makes him bristle further. He doesn't have his family here; maybe if he did, he wouldn't be in this damn mess. God DAMN it, everything about this situation smacks of an interrogation, and Raph has never been very accommodating.

He grabs one of the homemade smoke bombs Donnie'd passed out to all of them from his belt. With a head start, he can definitely outrun the other Raph; maybe even the other Leo, depending on how much faster than Raph he is.]

Mind your own business! [He smashes it onto the ground and it flashes bright white before belching a dark purple smoke, and Raphael is already darting into alleys and climbing up to rooftops from there to try and make his escape.]

[Oh hell no! Even after the smoke bomb chokes the air, Raph charges into it blindly, teeth bared and a new flare of rage in his stomach.]

Get back here you little--!

Raph, let him go.

[Leo is hanging back, his arms still crossed, eyes tracing the barely-visible shadow a moment before it slips into the darkness of the alleys. That would be a 'no', he's guessing - which means he's here all alone. No brothers, no sensei. And then two guys claiming to be him and his brother show up...]

[...it's something new to worry about. But if Leonardo has learned anything about Raphael throughout the years, it's that sometimes he just needs his space. Chasing him down now isn't liable to make them better friends.]

[Raph stops, smoke billowing around him, stolen away by the wind. It teases his bandana tails and smells faintly like the ocean. Gone. He glares out over the canal, his hands wound into fists. Every muscle is wound like a chord.

He has no idea what he's doing. If he goes after him, what's that gonna accomplish? They can beat the shit out of each other again. Good as it feels it doesn't do a friggin' thing. And talking gets them nowhere.

All he knows is there's another one of him out there... a clone, a spy, a copy from another dimension, whatever. He just hates it. He hates it so freaking much.

He turns and stalks back toward the street, anger brewing like an electrical storm in his veins.

Someone's half-finished wooden sailboat sitting up on sawhorses by the water's edge is the first thing that gets in his way. He flips the whole thing over with a monstrous snarl, wood and building supplies clattering everywhere.]

[voice; action]

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