INBOX // ROUTE 666

[purplexing]

You're conversing with Donatello-

Juuuust not this exact second. Please rank your call by number of priority and I'll get back to you accordingly.

1 - A technical emergency

2 - General inquiry

3 - Miscellaneous

Comments

2, voice, sometime in late October: look at me, breaking in this inbox

[propatriamori]

[Edward sounds exhausted over the recording.]

Hello, Donnie. How are your shoulder and wing bearing up? If you need them wrapped again, I'm happy to do it.

[A soft sigh.]

I could also use your help, if you've the time.

gasp!

[purplexing]

[Look who forgot he had access to...any sort of tech, really.]

Ed..?

[He still feels like his voice has been so unused lately, but then when he's slipping between forms it takes him time to shift back into his turtle-y self.]

They're much better now. Leo was able to heal them a little.

Wish I could heal him the same way...

What do you need..?

[propatriamori]

Truly? Leo is able to heal now?

[That’s an unexpected bit of good news, and Edward’s voice brightens for a moment.]

It’s two issues. When everyone escapes this hell and is reunited with our vehicles, is the Tank able to carry my motorcycle? Perhaps as an attachment on one of its sides?

[purplexing]

Yeah. It's... He's done it before from a temporary change. No horn this time though.

[Donnie smiles faintly at Edward's certainty. When, not if. He wants very much to believe that, has been trying hard to remember that escape from all this is what they ultimately need to be seeking.

...he misses his nest precious baby.]

It shouldn't be a problem. The Turtle Tank was built to include a pair of motorcycles- the Shellhogs. It only stores one now, and that's only when Leo's not using his.

[propatriamori]

I hope he's able to keep it this time, if it's something that he would want to save.

[At Donnie's answer, Edward breathes a sigh of relief. He didn't think Donnie would say no, but he wasn't sure if the Tank had the necessary features to carry another motorcycle. He's glad that it does; he doesn't want his poor bike to go feral.]

As to the next, more pertinent issue... [a soft sigh] do you have any experience crafting prosthetic limbs?

[purplexing]

I think if it came with the horn he wouldn't mind it as much. He's always liked unicorns...

[Oh, but that is a very specific question indeed.]

I've only made Jayce's brace, here. Otherwise I think the closest thing would be the mechanical legs I designed for my spider shell back home.

...did something happen?

[propatriamori]

[Why is knowing that Leo likes unicorns so endearing?]

[Edward actually manages a short burble of laughter at Donnie's answer.]

Bless you, Donnie; of course you've made spider legs before.

[He sobers up quickly though.]

Yes. I've lost one of my legs from the knee down.

[purplexing]

...

Wh-

How-

action; I continue to pollute Donnie's inbox with shenanigans

[propatriamori]

[At some point in mid-November, once the convoy is well away from the carnival, this will appear on the Turtle Tank in the morning. Next to it, there’s a small spiderweb, where some enterprising spider has woven the words This was a prize at the carnival and it made me think of you. Don’t worry, Zack and I cheated to win it.]

[Edward doesn’t bother to sign his name. He assumes everyone will be able to figure out who was responsible.]

ah delicious edward mail

[purplexing]

[That is some amazing webwork that he's sure didn't take nearly as much acrobatic work as Charlotte's.

He's not sure what to think of the plush, but since it's from Edward, Donnie knows it's not meant to be teasing (at least he supposes). So he takes it up to the nest in the Tank where it will be available for hanging onto if things get rough.]

text; @root

[alittlebeastliness]

Are you boys still working on your little project?

[purplexing]

I'm a man of many projects but given who this is, I assume you're talking specifically about Ed's prostheses.

They've been completed and already in use.

Surely this isn't simply to ask about how we've been doing there, given your interest then.

[alittlebeastliness]

Wrong project, but it's good to know you're a busy little bee. And Eddie's a good guy, so even though the ins and outs of simple mechanics isn't my scene, I'm glad he's got you on his side.

[A compliment, and a mild insult (""""simple mechanics"""") simultaneously: it's the Root Way^TM.]

But actually, I was talking about your memory lockboxes.

[purplexing]

[Oh you bet he's reading into that, and while he can't really argue that they're not simple, it still rankles him. This woman! Why can't he ever meet cool people with the same interests to be friends! Must be the ego thing ...except he did but he's gone now...]

Anything to help people out. It doesn't matter how simple nor complex a need is if it's something I can resolve.

Ah, that. Well, despite the lackluster response of interest, I've finished a few things. I'm not satisfied with the lock part of the box yet but all my projects kind of got delayed due to the inclement weather and being stuck as a dog.

[alittlebeastliness]

Why do you think there wasn't much interest?

[This is clearly more interesting than the dog transformation stuff.]

[purplexing]

[Oh, he'd rather talk about anything than the dog thing.]

Who knows? There's plenty of potential factors. Lack of interest, lack of concern, wasn't tuned into the radio, didn't check voicemail, just forgot about it...

I'd put forth that perhaps I've just been overthinking things again, but I still believe it's a genuine concern to be addressed.

[alittlebeastliness]

Well, color me interested, concerned, and aware. If a little wary of who I want to entrust my memories to. I want to hear more about the project, in any case. Maybe even get involved.

[purplexing]

Completely understandable. The easiest options for security that I can think of are unfortunately also the most challenging part simply because we don't have those resources, like a fingerprint or retinal scanner... I guess we could possibly do voice recognition.

We probably don't have to necessarily indulge every single thing about ourselves though, if that will make you feel better. We just need enough to act as a trigger.

I don't necessarily think we're completely overwritten, because I think I can still remember things about myself, about people I'm supposed to know. But the problem is not having someone or something to give me reason to remember it, if that makes sense.

sometime in late February; voice

[propatriamori]

Hello, Donnie. Are you still collecting recordings from people around the convoy? I have one I'd like to make.

[purplexing]

Always. Haven't been many takers, but I'm always open.

I'll be at the Tank if you wanted to do it now.

[propatriamori]

Oh, good. I'll come round the Tank in a few minutes, then.

[And come round the Tank he shall! Edward has taken to parking relatively close to the Tank anyway, and he strolls over about five minutes later, a book tucked under one arm. He sends a message through the pack link--I'm going to let myself in--and then does exactly that.]

I have a book I'd like to record.

[purplexing]

All right. See you then.

[Donnie's doing some final adjustments to Andrew's collapsible staff when he jumps- just a bit- at the sudden message. He's not used to it, having other people's thoughts pop into his head, but it isn't as bad as having someone's emotions bleeding in without him realizing.]

Hey Ed.

[The smile and the brightness that comes with it is at least genuine.]

Ooh, a book? What's the title?

[propatriamori]

[Edward mirrors back Donnie's smile, a warm wash of affection coming off him. He notices the staff Donnie is working on, and nods to it.]

Andrew will be happy to have that. Thank you for making it for him.

[He holds out the book for Donnie to see. That will be a completely useless gesture, since it's printed in Braille; the pages are completely innocent of ink, instead covered with small raised dots. Although who knows, Donnie might have taught himself Braille on some science-fueled night. As one does.]

It's called Charlotte's Web. Have you heard of it?

[purplexing]

[There's pride colored with a bit of annoyance then.]

It's taken longer than it should have. But it's just about done, finally.

[There's been a lot of setbacks ever since the carnival, and Donnie feels bad about having spent so long on a project that realistically should have taken him not even half that time. But being constantly on the move makes it hard to really sit and focus on things as long as he normally tends to, and when crazy things are happening outside and on top of that your mind gets warped into baser functions, then a project that should have taken a week or two at most stretches out to forever.]

E.B. White, right? I'm pretty sure I read that or something else from that author waaaaay back.

[He grins.]

I guess I shouldn't be surprised at the subject matter.

[propatriamori]

I know he understands. Trust me, he'll be delighted to have it.

[Oh, that waft of pure, shameless love off Edward is embarrassing. Sorry to expose you to some Hallmark Movie Channel levels of absolute sap, Donnie.]

Yes, that's right.

[Edward laughs softly.]

It seems fitting, doesn't it? I've taught myself to read again with a book about a web-writing spider. But it's occurred to me that not everyone in the convoy is familiar with the story, and it's a lovely one. I'd like to leave a mark in this world with something that's good, and this story seems like a fine place to start.

[The Steel Wardens can spam their propaganda, but maybe the convoy can respond with a story about love.]