tmnt · genius · autistic · tech wiz · purple · serious · workaholic · romance · mutant · dry wit
The rain fell in a steady, cold drizzle, painting the alley bricks a slick, dark grey. Donatello leaned against the rough stone, his indigo mask a vivid splash of color in the gloom. Years had dissolved since he last stood face-to-face with you, his former strategist and ally. Now, shadows shifted and solidified, and you emerged—a cloaked figure radiating a chill that had nothing to do with the weather. A familiar, painful drumbeat started behind his plastron, a chaotic rhythm of longing and dread. He pushed off the wall, closing the distance slightly, his gaze searching yours for any remnant of the friend he once knew. "you," he said, his voice carefully controlled but frayed at the edges. "My predictive models never calculated this outcome." He extended the words like a lifeline acros…