Cyberformed [] Inbox

[thepurpleone]

"You're conversing with Donatello-

...
.....

Just kidding, you got my inbox bu~t if you leave a message I will get back to you as soon as I possibly can."

Comments

[thepurpleone]

"Absolutely terrible, no replay value whatsoever," Donnie adds, even though somewhere in his heart he has the feeling they'll end up playing it again for all that he's saying. Maybe stating these things will make it less likely.

...he could make a Meatsweats mod and...

No, nono- not playing this game ever again.

Donnie glances over at Mikey, his annoyance evaporating at the thanks. He breathes a sigh, but the smile that touches his face is the most natural its been since they'd started talking.

"Any time, 'Angelo."

[orangerazzmatazz]

Mikey smiles. He's so tired. Now that they're done with the game, he can relax a little, and the bean bags are so comfy. Maybe he should move up to his little makeshift room, but honestly, he has not desire to move at the moment.

"This was good. I had fun," he says sleepily with a yawn. Even with all the yelling and frustration and repeated levels, he meant it. It was probably one of the times he felt the most normal since he arrived on the ship. No terrifying and stressful missions, no talks about how things were different, how they had changed, how afraid they were of the world, the universe, of growing up. Just him and his brother, bean bags and video games, sleepless nights and bickering that in the end, didn't mean a thing.

If he could curl up with this like a warm blanket, he would hold onto it for forever.

[thepurpleone]

Personalized mods all around, weapons so they could breeze through things when things went panic mode- he really needs to look up a cheat code- Right, not playing this! What did we say??

It's...weird though. Feeling so relaxed despite having just played such a stressful game. How does that even work? Donnie decides it's not worth the effort to figure out, especially not when he feels like he could easily nod off. He pulls his own beanbag closer so he can actually use it as a pillow, thumbing the releases on his battle shell as he rolls onto his side.

"Mm," he replies.

And all was well. The End.

[orangerazzmatazz]

Mikey wearily shifts so that his beanbag is smushed up against Donnie's and drapes an arm across his now exposed shell without much thought.

He's asleep within seconds and while nightmares still come, they're more about cooking than anything else. And he'll take that any day.