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daflangstlairde-art · 2 months ago

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A Catalog of Non-Definitive Acts — Chapter 2, 4737 words

Part 3 of DFL's Whumptober 2024

Work Summary:

Love was cauterized out of him young, because that is how you survive. But coming back home with the Splintersons, Leo craved. He craved and he ached and he hungered. Because the Jitsu family loves. They love ardently, fervently, they love in a way Leo has never, ever seen before, they love in a way Leo could never even conceptualize much less dream of. (She’s always taught him, by word but much more by example, to take what he wants and settle for nothing less.)

Here's chapter 1

Still no schedule, not even a mention of it, nothing to clue him in about anything that's going to happen. That's alright. Maybe it was another test! Leo would nail it. The novelty of everything was as fun as it was scary, like facing a type of Nexus opponent he's never faced before, mind ticking away with ideas on what he could do.

Still, he did not expect the next slot to be reserved for shopping.

He supposed it... kinda made sense? He did need more clothes. The others also wanted him to get stuff for his room, but later.

As far as Leo knew, mutants and yōkai were supposed to stay hidden from humanity to the best of their abilities.

But here they were. In a thrift shop. In broad daylight. Standing in front of a packed clothes line, the other three huddled around him as he tried to pick. The Splintersons had reassured him new yorkers didn't pay odd sights much mind—that’s normal apparently—and yet they still had... “disguises” on. So, just... clothes.

He would say regular clothes, except the clothes were barely regular, and he was saying that as a performer. They insisted they had to be inconspicuous, and yet wore bright colors in fun shapes and patterns. Leo was so bewildered it circled right back around to being impressed.

Confidence and standing out were admired in his line of work. Also it was just... charming. They liked the fun colors and shapes, so they wore the fun colors and shapes, heedless of, like, any external factors. Bold!

But anyway. That's not the point.

The point is, that during breakfast, Raph accidentally knocked over Mikey’s juice and it stained Leo’s shirt (the big guy was still very apologetic over it). And that’s when theyrealized Leo didn't have any clothes with him. He didn't take anything from his old room, because it wasn't really his. None of it ever was.

(“Why didn't you mention it?” Donnie looked at him, eyebrows furrowed, and Leo... didn't know how to reply to that. Was he supposed to mention it–?

Yes, apparently, judging by the disapproval on Donatello’s face.

“Now I’ll know for next time,” Leo reassured, easy-going as always.

(I’ll do better, I promise.)

So. Mikey excitedly brought up the idea about going thrifting. And now they were thrifting. Shopping second-hand, which is another new experience to be written on the list of many.

Right alongside the fact that they encouraged (wanted) Leo to pick out clothes on his own. For himself.

He’s coordinated outfits for himself before, but... it was always a test? Like– an assignment. He would not only get to but he’d also be expected to ask for details—what type of event is it? Is there a theme? What are our business relations with the attending guests? Will there be food, movement? What’s the general temperature? What theme is Big Mama going for with her own wardrobe? On and on and on.

And now all he got was–

“Yeah, you just pick anything you like!” Mikey beamed at him.

And make sure what you like aligns with what is acceptable and what we like.

“Riiight,” Leo nodded, feigning understanding, even though this is the third time he’s tried to subtly ask for clarification without outwardly asking for clarification. He just needed something to work with, anything, but it's like they were purposefully making it as vague and open as possible!

“Don't worry about money,” and “Nah, not for any special reason,” and all.

(This theory got even more credence as Mikey literally elbowed Donnie when he started opening his mouth, probably to give some pointers.)

They hadn't even told him the budget! Or how many articles he was supposed to get! He was completely lost and he did not like it.

Well, at least he was rarely punished for janky outfit coordination... he could just completely improv it, he supposed... was that a good idea? What if they didn't like it? What if they didn't like him? What if they didn't have the funds? Leo knew they were far from Big Mama’s class. Or– well, that is why they were getting second-hand...

If the uncharming habits hadn't been broken out of him ages ago, he’d be biting his lip or his nails, or fidgeting.

Okay, Leo, what can you deduce? The sewers were... moderate temperature, thanks to Donnie’s air conditioning. But the surface got very cold in winter, right? It wouldn't be winter for a while, but... he should probably get something warm? Or would that be implying his room was not a satisfactory temperature, which would be insulting?

They... oh! Right, they go on patrol and fight crime! Right, so something to allow for movement, okay, perfect. That ruled out a lot of options. And! They're ninjas! Sneaky! So less flashy stuff, right? Even if it was so wildly different to his usual direction, which was to gather as much attention as possible.

He probably shouldn't pick anything they had trademarked, mainly through their individual color schemes. But he wasn't sure whether he would be allowed to claim a color, so... neutral palette. Can't go wrong with a neutral palette. White stained easily—as previously shown, so maybe something low-maintenance instead.

...Well, he did need better pants...

Leo could almost hear the others hold their breath as he started looking through the hanged clothing. Following him like ducklings as he carefully started browsing the options.

...Hm. Well, he’s always liked the idea of tank tops and T-shirts, they’d been pretty comfy the few times he’d worn them...

There. Two articles of clothing picked out.

First, a sage-olive colored T-shirt, large and loose to not only accommodate his shell, but also give him a pleasant range of motion. Fit his skin tone, didn't clash with the red on his face, and since it was a relatively dark color, it would be pretty okay with sneaking during the night. Cotton meant it would be pretty easy to wash, and would be good with most temperatures.

The second article was harder, because accommodating the lowest lip of his carapace in a way that didn't look awkward was always a hassle. So he chose some sort of... black pants, baggy. Not sure what the type is called, even as he wracked his brain. He really hoped he wouldn't be quizzed on it. You could say memorizing things like this was also never his strong suit, haha! The material wasn't stiff or itchy. Good for movement. Had two pockets.

It was a bonus that both articles of clothing seemed really comfy to wear, and Leo has almost never gotten the opportunity to indulge in loose, genuinely comfortable clothing. Not unless it was, like, pajamas or silk.

“I think this might work, huh?” he turned to the others with the two things. Not great to ask for feedback like that—it showed insecurity over whether he was successful and a lack of mastery over the subtleties of conversation—but it was the best option he had.

He didn't pick out accessories, because one pointer they had given him is that they were here to shop for clothes–

“That's it?” Raph blurted out, a little... surprised?

Dang. Okay, so, Leo messed up, what else did he need? What was he missing? Shoes??? He already had shoes, and this store didn't cater to yōkai, how would he find shoes here–

“N–”

Mikey sent Raph a withering glare, and Raph seemed to... catch himself, immediately waving his hands and saying “No no, I meant–!” he took a breath. “Leo, if these are the clothes you like, they're yours. If you like ‘em.” oh, right, they knew he usually had his clothes picked out for him. Hm. “If this is all you want and-or need for now, that's totally okay. We can always get more later if you change your mind. But! If– if there's something else you also want, don't, uh...” Raph’s speech trailed off, gesturing around. The big guy wasn't very big on words.

“Don't hesitate to get it, we’ve got the money,” Donnie finished for him. “Don't feel restricted based on how much it costs, or, hm, what else do you feel restricted about?”

“Or about anyone else’s opinion but yours!” Mikey tied up their reassurance with a little bow, grinning.

Leo was, for the tenth time in the last twenty four hours, once again left baffled.

That– hm. Okay. That was... an incredibly directly communicated concept. So much so that he was struggling to find the underlying meaning, leaving him to question simply, wow, do they... really mean that?

He couldn't catch their game. They were still looking at him expectantly. Probably for his reaction.

Was this... also a test? Did they want him to double down on his choice, and then tell him if it’s right or not? He was getting more and more lost.

“...I think it’s a good starting point,” he said carefully. That was pretty neutral. They could build off of that if anything was wrong.

They grinned at him, appearing genuinely happy, and he relaxed a little, and they moved along to pay for the new set of clothes.

Phew. Another test that he simply nailed. He was so good at this.

—

“So, anything else you want for your room?” Donnie brought up, as they were exiting the thrift store. Leo had a single bag with his clothes. The others also had a bag each because they simply couldn't help but get some stuff for themselves. They also seemed to simply enjoy browsing.

Hm. What else could Leo be expected to get? It's a cell. What is he going to get, wallpapers? No.

He also didn't know how long he would be staying there. Since he was inside it all the time, he would start to get worried about a vitamin D deficiency or something, but... they'd take that into consideration, wouldn't they? Big Mama always did, she always wanted him in top shape. Managing his diet, his room, consistent medical check-ups, yada yada. And they were turtles, they’d know how important it is to bask and stuff. So they’d give him what he needed in regards to that.

Hmm. Dang. Donnie pulling out the hard questions.

Well, so far, they were always happy whenever he showed some... “personality”. They kept nudging him to “get what he liked” and to “do what he liked” and all, so, maybe something along those lines? They wanted him to cement his persona well, rather than sticking to what’s neutral and therefore safe?

But what would he get for his room?

They had a dojo for exercise equipment, they had separate bathrooms. Make-up and body-slash-skincare wasn't included in the specifier “for your room”.

He could see them waiting, expectantly, for his reply, could see they wanted to offer stuff but were holding themselves back. Interesting. Probably because they wanted him to guess the right thing again.

What the heck was it???

A carpet??? What would he need a carpet for??? Interior design was not his thing, one of his worst subjects. He was lucky it was one of the most minor, too, reserved for the future for when he would manage Big Mama’s hotel; but it could really help right about now.

A different curtain? Some other type of furniture?

...Oh! Right! He's an idiot, jeez! He wanted to facepalm. Of course, how didn't he think of it sooner?

“I think a mirror could be helpful,” he answered indirectly. “To keep up a proper image,”

How had he forgotten that he didn't have a mirror? He supposed it skipped his mind, because last night and this morning he’d used the one in the bathroom when brushing his teeth and washing his face.

“Got it, anything else?” Donnie noted it down on his phone.

...

Okay. Um. There was more? How much more was there??? Leo thought he'd figured out the only thing???

“...Mikey’s drawing might get stained or worn without a frame,” he added, answering and defending his answer all in one. “I wouldn't want that to happen,”

“Awweee,” Mikey cooed, and Leo felt satisfied he’d figured that out as well. “Hey, just so you know, if anything happened to it, I’ll happily make you another! I barely even had to stay up to make that one,” he patted Leo’s shoulder. Aw. That's sweet.

“That's impressive,” Leo replied.

“Mhm, is that all?” Donnie asked next, and Leo exhaled, subtly.

Asking “Is that all?” meant it was all. Great. Another test that he breezed through.

“Yes, thank you,” Leo answered, smiling, and so they went to get a mirror and a frame. A regular mirror and a super cute orange frame.

—

Mikey was incredibly happy to have his drawing framed and placed on Leo’s shelves. One of the first official decors in the cell! Joining Boss Bearhug.

The mirror gave Leo insight into his appearance, which... well. He was working on it.

The new clothes were... casual. Much, much more than what he was used to. And it was only now dawning on him that he really did have just the two sets. Heu boy. He grimaced. Perhaps he really should have picked out more...

But the Jitsu brothers didn't scold him. Did they? He replayed the conversation in his head again, analyzing it for the tenth time, as he does with all of them.

(“If this is all you want and-or need for now, that's totally okay. We can always get more later if you change your mind. But! If– if there's something else you also want, don't, uh...”

“Don't hesitate to get it,”)

Hngh. Dang. Maybe this was on him, then.

Well. “We can always get more later” they said, so it would be a part of his schedule, right?

The schedule that Leo still didn't have.

That's fine. It was fine! They– he was new here. They were all getting acclimated.

Which gave Leo an idea.

Lunchtime. Supper? It was like, 4 p.m. Whatever, doesn't matter.

He waited for everything to be served even when the others didn't. He casually sat a little more casually, totally casual as he carefully observed the others’ reactions to it. Zero reaction, they did not even notice—okay, they didn't care how he sat.

Homemade steak. Leo paid compliments to the chef, Mikey, and waited for– jeez, wow, okay, Raph was just grabbing it and goin’ for it. Aaand so was Donnie. Oookay.

Leo cut his own with a knife and fork, and thankfully so did Mikey. For a second there, Leo thought he’d have to switch his manners completely to fit.

Once again, he laid low in the conversation, whilst still attentively listening.

So when Raph brought up “Hey, Leo, you goin’ on patrol with us later?” it was the perfect opportunity. Time to inquire.

“Your call, bossman,” Leo said with his usual grin. “That's a regular thing for you guys, right?” he was already slipping into more laid back sentence structure around them.

“Yeah! The Mad Dogz, protecting NYC!” Raph pumped a fist.

“Every night?”

“Of course, and we are very consistent with it,” Donnie said, and Leo recognized that tone. It was the tone he’d used years ago, when he’d try sooo hard to be casual that he'd end up stiff and unnatural all over.

“Uh-huh,” Raph said flatly, arms crossed. “They slack like, half the time, so sometimes it's just me. If we're not feelin’ well, we also don't do it,”

Okay, that was perfect. Leo will be attending the patrols with Raph and he'll be actually consistent with it, won't miss a single one. It was the perfect opportunity to prove himself!

“Well. I’m feeling great,” Leo said, in lieu of saying I’m joining you tonight.

“Yay!” Mikey exclaimed.

“Anything else you guys have on your schedules? I’ll gladly stick to one of yours until mine’s figured out,” Leo noted. Again, a perfect idea. He’d just copy one of their schedules, until his own was finished.

He received shrugs in response.

“Donnie is in his lab tinkerin’ a lot. I like to draw, sometimes I go out for graffiti,” Mikey said, counting off on his fingers. “Raph does exercises, sometimes we watch movies, that kind of thing. Whatever we feel like, really,”

...

Okay. So. Leo was expecting something more along the lines of 6 a.m.: wake up and morning routine, 7 a.m.: warm-ups, 8 a.m.: breakfast, 9 a.m.: tutoring, you know? Something with structure. Heck, he didn't even care if it repeated daily, weekly, or monthly! He'd take anything!

Not... that.

Were they just bad at relaying data like that or... no, no way that was it. No way that was all. No way they just... free-styled all their time. It was preposterous.

...Right?

...

It was occurring to Leo that they have never mentioned a schedule. Donatello has mentioned routines, Michelangelo has mentioned plans, Raphael has mentioned chores and responsibilities. The only one who has ever mentioned anything close to a schedule was April—about school.

To use a recently absorbed expression—pizza supreme in the sky, they were completely off the chain.

...Oh no, they were looking at him again. Leo wasn't emoting correctly, he'd forgotten to react at all, but how was he supposed to react to this–

“What... were you expecting?” Donnie raised an eyebrow.

“We ain't gon’ control your life, Leo,” Raph said, going gentle but no less genuine. “You’re a Mad Dog now! You ain’t Big Mama’s! You can do what you want!”

Leo could not even begin to process that.

“Have you just been... acting like you would with Big Mama this whole time?” Mikey asked, going for gentle but overshooting and starting to tumble into concern. Or maybe pity.

Crap. Leo was being way too transparent, or Mikey was better at reading people than he thought.

Leo kept his mouth closed and smiling, if only because gaping and stammering would be awfully inelegant and telling. He's pretty sure the way his expression carefully did not change was telling enough.

He licked his lips, just to react in some way whilst buying himself just a few more milliseconds to think of how the fuck to respond.

Because... yyyes? Was he... supposed to act... differently?

“...I’m still getting acclimated,” he said smoothly. So far so good. “Though I’m open to constructive criticism, would love some pointers,” he said jokingly, even though it was entirely true.

He just wanted to grab them by the shoulders and ask, no double-speak, no subtlety, tell me how to act! Tell me what you want from me and I will do it, I will!

It was a deeply familiar feeling. Even as good as he was at it, navigating constant conversational and behavioral puzzles and traps was tiring at best. At worse—infuriating.

...Terrifying and dangerous, at worst.

But that's just not how things go. Leo couldn't just ask them, he couldn't just talk to them, that would be insane behavior. He just had to figure it out. Just be careful and think.

“Alright!” Mikey declared, reaching over to take his hands. “Here's a pointer! How about this: tomorrow, you are totally free. Okay? No expectation, no plan, nothing. The whole day. You can do whatever. You. Want.” he emphasized.

Leo, again, almost gaped. What??? What was he supposed to do with that time??? It wasn't even like a day off! Those still had things planned, just... lighter things, more enjoyable things.

Was this another test??? If so, it was crazy. Maybe they wanted to see how he would behave when left to his own devices? It hadn't even been a week, he hasn't even shown how he behaves according to their devices.

...Or... was it... oh.

His first punishment.

It felt like a stone sank down his trachea and digestive tract both.

He messed up. He’d– he’d behaved according to Big Mama’s rules instead of the Jitsus', and now he was really going to be left in his cell.

Yeah. Yeah, that... that made sense. It had to make sense. Leo just had to take it in stride and fucking behave. He had to show how good he could be.

Mikey said tomorrow. That meant he still had the rest of today to show how good he is. Act correctly, speak correctly, don't break any rules, don't go out of line, be likeable, be perfectly curated. Go on patrol with Raph and the other two if they show up, and show them how skilled he was.

Leo almost replied with a yes sir, instead landing on an awkward “Yes sssssuunderstood,”

“And just to be extra clear!” Donnie spoke up. “This is not a trick, nor a ploy, nor some complicated scheme!”

Yes sir, Leo nodded. “I understand.”

“And we ain't mad at you!” Raph also butted in. That... okay, yeah, they weren't mad, just– disappointed, probably. Or maybe not even that. Maybe they didn't feel any negative way, just wanted Leo to behave, teach him how to behave. “You haven't done anything wrong!”

...What?

What???

Leo was so incredibly confused right now. Of course, he showed none of that.

He's been confused before. He's dealt with confusing individuals and their confusing rules before. That's all he's done his entire life. He just had to figure things out, like every other time. He kept his breathing calm, and smiled.

“I understand,”

—

“That was a sick twist, Leo!”

“How did you do that???”

Patrol went well. Yeah, Leo needed a few minutes of running across rooftops to get into the rhythm, but they faced off against some mutant lady, and Nexus Mode clicked inside his brain.

And Leo loved the Battle Nexus, actually. It's the one place where he could curate the mask he wore, his presentation, his presence, who he is. It's the one place where he got to make the rules.

“Oh, you know,” Leo was grinning, as they traversed the rooftops back to the Lair. “I suppose I’m just that good,” he got to boast, and it made them laugh and roll their eyes and it was great.

Leo loved the Nexus. He loved getting to show off, and boy did he show off now as well, doing a whole lot of unnecessary maneuvers. Not to hurt! It wasn't about the violence.

...Okay it was a little about the violence, but that's specifically for the Battle Nexus, not for now.

A lot more of it was about being capable.About having the opportunity to do, well, His Thing. Go out, charm the crowds, get them hyped and cheering, show them how awesome (how talented) he was. On the arena, Leo was center stage and the director all at once. Leo decided what was right and what was acceptable and what was desired.

In the Nexus, free to choose who he performed as, Leo felt the most like himself. Like there was an actual person, under the layers upon layers of rules and games and tricks and lies and masks.

And the Mad Dogz had loved it. He kept subtly pressing with “Hey how about that spin-kick huh?” and “I haven't seen you guys try diversions much, so I thought I would–” and whatnot, thrumming with what did you think? Did I do good? Did I do good?

And with a laugh or with a nod or with encouragements or with jokes, they kept answering you were good, you did well, that was right, that was acceptable.

“OOH!” Mikey exclaimed, “We should go to Run of the Mill!!! To celebrate!”

“Oh yeah!” Raph readily agreed, “First job well done with all four Mad Dogz!”

“Ah, an idea per excellance, my fellow Crazy Canines,”

And Leo’s heart swelled at the idea. At the eagerness with which they were already calling him “one of the Mad Dogz”—their team, their family. Heck, this patrol was lightweight compared to a low bracket fight in the Nexus, and yet they wanted to celebrate.

Big Mama does not feel love. Leo is the thing that has come the second closest to being loved by Big Mama, and Leo comprehended a long time ago that he has never been truly loved, not really. Big Mama does obsession, does appreciation, does desire, does value, does all those things, but she just doesn't do love.

And she taught him everything he knows about the world and its workings. She taught him everything she knows.

“If you ever surpass my skills enough to escape without getting caught in my wibbly-web, my turtely-boo, Big Mama shall simply let you go,” she’d said to him, affectionate and coy and condescending. And she made true on her promise—she never let him go easily. Leo’s new life was all thanks to what he’d learned from her and from his own experiences. It was all thanks to his careful planning and execution.

Love was cauterized out of him young, because that is how you survive.

But coming back home with the Splintersons, Leo craved.

He craved and he ached and he hungered. Because the Jitsu family loves. They love ardently, fervently, they love in a way Leo has never, ever seen before, they love in a way Leo could never even conceptualize much less dream of.

And every little stray droplet that lands his way feels like lava, warm and acidic and ruinous, corrosive through his layers. And only at the smallest taste was he realizing how he’s starved for it his entire life.

Leo is not a thing that is loved.

Not in this fierce, personal way.

But he wanted to be. He wanted it so bad, he was ready crack himself open and model his innards like clay for it. He would do the coolest tricks and he would navigate all the conversational mazes and he would pass their tests. Big Mama only ever loved him the way she loved her possessions, her achievements, her treasures; his mother never loved him like this, but he was almost grateful to her, because she’d given him the tools to get it himself.

She’s always taught him, by word but much more by example, to take what he wants and settle for nothing less.

—

Leo behaved at Run of the Mill as well. He was already starting to get used to the Jitsu rhythm, their incredibly differing and saturated mannerisms. He wasn't yet slotting into it quite as perfectly as he’d like, but he was on the way there.

He behaved the way h– to the Lair too. He made them laugh, and he always handled it when he stepped on their metaphorical toes.

Leo was doing good.

So even though he was still trying to work his way out of being in a cell, he flopped onto his bed, smiling, and honestly? He felt... happy. The Jitsus made him happy.

The satisfaction of making them pleased with him left him with a tingling feeling in his chest and shoulders, one that usually made him want to move. He allowed himself just a little shimmy—it was his cell, after all, so it was probably fine, right? And all the others had way larger bursts of movement and emotion, so.

Yeah.

After a few moments of hesitation, Leo also reached over and grabbed, uh... Boss Bearhug. He really really wanted to hug the pillow-like plush. He's secretly always adored plushies, they were just so cute! But he didn't want to be too showy with his love for the gift, so he simply placed it next to his pillow. And laid down on his side to face it.

Leo exhaled, covered by a... pretty nice blanket, actually. And laying on a nice pillow. But it made sense—the Splintersons weren't cruel, they were soft souls. ‘Course they made even cells feel homey and comfortable and nice.

Leo felt warm.

He’d had some bumps here and there, sure, but hey, he'd navigated the whole day! Things should only be looking up from here.

He could do this. He could so do this. It was starting to feel like a fun puzzle, now. He could learn them. He could figure them out. And then he would make them love him. And it would be good.

For once, maybe, maybe he could have something real and good and keep it.

It was an idea so sweet it made him dizzy, haha.

It wasn't hard to fall asleep, even through the excitement.

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