thepurpleone | Cyberformed [] Inbox

Anila hums. He was right about that at least, things were rarely boring when there were so many different types in the universe.

She hops up to her feet in a fluid motion and pulls a pack of cookies from a pouch at her hip.

Opening the bag, she steps over to look at the metallic flower on the stand a little more closely.

"This is quite impressive, you take care of this by yourself? You must stay pretty busy." She takes a cookie and pops it in her mouth before holding the bag out to him and offering him to take a couple. "Do you know what all of these are?" She asks around her mouthful of pastry.

"Oh, that one's special. Quintessa made it. It's pretty amazing- I'm not sure it actually counts as a plant but it's still pretty, and it more or less follows the basic patterns of a flower's blooming cycle."

Donnie's brows lift at the offer of cookies, and he reaches into the bag to take some to nibble on. He's probably missed another meal but that's hardly anything new.

"I got these from Titan Eco Memoria, during the first winter ball I went to. I've been growing them for about two years now. They're types of flora from Cybertron," he explains, wasting no time in pointing out the different ones and naming them. It's clear he loves plants, his spirit lifting, a genuine smile on his face as he goes on.

She takes her time to look at each plant, listening as he goes on about the origin and other information about each one. She wasn't as invested in various flora as he had seemed to be, but she had also been raised to honor the trees she had grown up amongst and that respect lingered for all plants in a way.

"You should see the trees back on Belecaat," she said when she found a pause in his informational lecture.

"They were tall enough to breech the clouds and their bark was blue and swirled light water and veins."

She held out her arms, where blue tattoos and scarred skin swirled and looped in beautiful tandem across her skin. "To respect the local culture, we would scar and tattoo ourselves to match the trees, to follow the traditions and show respect to the planet."

Info-dumping about tech and his latest projects is one thing, but it's clear there's a different sort of energy and a genuine love and appreciation for plants as Donnie happily explains what he's learned and what he likes about each of the specimens he shows her. While he may not really be one for forests, he still appreciates trees enough to ooh at the description of the ones Anila speaks of from her home.

"Blue? Oh...that sounds amazing. I bet something like that'd even make Leo appreciate a tree," he says with a laugh.

He looks at her arms, brows lifting. The scars look like they might've been painful, but it's such a strangely balanced design between them and the tattoos that decorate her arms. "Whoa... And that's your homeworld?"

Anila might have had a little bit of trouble paying attention at some points, but she did her best. She never had the best for focus for the academic type stuff, which definitely got her in some trouble growing up. But it was important to Donnie, so she gave it an honest effort.

"Yeah, Belecaat," she answered. "Not where I was born, but it was where I was raised since I was a baby. In the secret Jedi temple there. I haven't seen it in some years though." Her voice goes a little sad and she twists her arm a bit to trace the lines as the swirl up her skin, disappearing into her shirt but poking out in the exposed skin of her neck and tracing up onto her jaw and cheeks.

And now she wasn't sure she ever would see her home planet again.

"Leo likes blue then?" she asks, pushing on, adding some levity back into her tone.

"Oh..." Donnie isn't quite sure where to go with that one. He's not really familiar with Jedi and their 'baby-snatching' ways to figure this as anything unusual otherwise.

He tilts his head, not really catching that note of sadness, or rather not connecting it as such, but he studies the swirling lines. His arms had hurt bad enough getting burned up as they got eaten by magic that he can't imagine sitting through such sessions for all those tattoos and other markings.

"Yeah, blue's his thing. Like orange is Mikey's, and Raph's is red, and mine is purple."

"I was kind of guessing as much, you really stick with that color code, the three--four of you." It was a shame she never got to meet that fourth brother, he seemed like such a gem. She had met the other two, briefly, in passing, and she had heard bits from Donnie over the year or so they had known each other.

"I was wondering if it was just a weird coincidence whenever I saw you," she gives a little laugh. "Better than the dull browns the Jedi just love." She rolls her eyes, but she's still grinning.

"Our dad basically calls us by colors more than our actual names so...yeah." Like this is a normal thing. Donnie at least doesn't seem to find anything wrong with it. He may just have issues with when Splinter calls one someone else's color coding.

He blinks, snout wrinkling. "Brown? I mean, dad wears browns but...is that a dress code or something for you guys?"

She kind of stares at him for a moment. She shouldn't judge, maybe that was just a part of this mutant turtle culture that she didn't know about. She knew there were things about Jedi culture that people gave odd looks too, or disagreed with. (Even she did, at times).

"Yeah, basically. It's not absolutely required but most people wear the traditional stuff, the robes and all that. They were comfortable, recognizable and easy to move in. We weren't to invest too much in appearance beyond just looking presentable, so plain tans and browns were the go to. I wore them as a kid, but like less layers, when I can."

The look on Donnie's face makes it clear just how much he cares for that color choice, but then that's probably no surprise.

"So you're...space monks."

She makes a face. It's not the first time she's heard the phrase.

"I guess..." she says. "You don't have to say it like that though."

He could at least try to sound a little impressed.

There is nothing particularly impressive that he's heard regarding monks, save for maybe their illuminating abilities, and he doubts that anyone does that anymore.

"What, how else am I supposed to say it??"

"Well you don't have to make it sound so lame. We can move things with our mind, my guy," she says, giving him a playful nudge.

"Not like that's a class-specific trick," he counters. "I guess calling yourselves Jedi instead of space monks does help make it sound cooler though." He has yet to be really impressed though.

She sticks her tongue out at him like the older and more mature woman she is.

Anile stops herself from saying she'll prove it, show him something impressive. That wouldn't be very Jedi of her. Best to stay humble.

Back on topic.

"The plants back on your planet. What were they like?" she asks, returning to observing the flora Donnie has around his room.

Donnie's brow quirks at that, an amused look on his face. He's almost disappointed that she switches the subject back.

"Like...plants?" he replies uncertainly, unsure how to really explain something so broad and yet likely similar to other worlds. "Organic, naturally..."

She hums. She supposed, given the circumstances, that did narrow it down a little.

"What colors did you have? Anything like what you have here?" She motions around the room, to the collection on display.

"It depends on the location," Donnie starts, now that he has a proper heading. "That's the nice thing about Earth; there's so many different climates all contained on one planet. Deep jungles with enough humidity and heat that it constantly builds up storms that keep everything lush and green. Dry deserts with resilient species that can subsist on minimal water, long enough until a good storm comes up and drenches things. There's forests and farms, parks and gardens."

He sighs. How he misses home.

"Where I live, it's all city, but go north enough and you'll hit some woods. They have a great botanical garden though, and that's the only place I've been able to see so many different flowers and plants. They even have rare ones from other parts of the world, like the Corpse Flower! It only blooms ever seven to ten years!"

She listens with genuine interest. She can get a bit lost on the technical bits, but he keeps things simple enough for now.

That last bit catches her. "A corpse flower?" She makes a face. "Do I want to know why it's called that? They couldn't come up with a better name?

Donnie laughs. "The titan arum is infamous for the unique aroma that it produces when it does bloom, which is comparable to the scent of a decaying body, apparently -which attracts pollinators."

She wrinkles her nose. "Somehow that is only barely better than anything I was thinking of. And you like this flower?" She'll admit it's... interesting. It's not uncommon for rotting meat to attract scavengers. So why not a flower that smells like such?

"Well, it's not really a top favorite but it was pretty cool to see blooming in person!"

And then it got smashed but hey, he got pictures at least.

"Dared my older brother to smell it and he went all in."

Anila snorts in a stifled laugh. Honestly, from what she knows of Donnie's brothers, she could totally believe it.

"And you? Did you smell it?"

"Not as directly as my brother, but even through my gas mask I could smell it pretty well, unfortunately."

Donnie doesn't look terribly thrilled about that, but it had taken forever to get the smell out of things after they'd all come back so very steeped in it. But it's not like they'd planned to run into a freshly mutated plant man that night either.

"Well, it's a good thing you didn't mess out." It was hard to tell from her tone if she was teasing or being completely genuine. "Can't say I'm disappointed on missing out though. I bet they have something like that in this universe. It's a little amazing how many parallels there are if you really look. Though more for the big guys more than us. Don't know how I would handle running into an alternate version of myself."

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