managerbehindthrone

New York.

It's only been a week since the Kraang's arrival and subsequent banishing. City clean-up's been steady but slow-going, a lot of debris to be cleaned up, a lot of things needing alien biomass to be properly decontaminated, and that wasn't even counting the people who had been warped, mutated by the goo, but those sightings were far and few, although no one could say where any of them went, but the posted disappearances never seemed to go down since the alien invasion.

Donnie knows his family's on edge. They're together, they're...in one piece, more or less, but they've laid low to recuperate. Raph would probably have his head if his older brother knew he was out, but out of all of them, Donnie felt he was still the most functional, and with so many patches in technical services, he felt it his duty to make sure they (he) could still get some good signals down below, so that they (he, once again) could make sure nothing else took advantage of their situation.

Paranoid? A little. He'd almost lost two brothers, after all, and almost is already too much. Far too close.

Despite that, he goes without his battle shell. His own shell is still bandaged beneath the oversized hoodie he wears, and as much as he'd prefer the solid coolness of metal against it, he'd been advised to let it rest a little more. It seems a small sacrifice when Leo's been sentenced to bed and Raph's eye's being monitored.

Of course, no battle shell means he has to take the long way up to get his relays set up. He half drapes over the ledge of the building he'd just installed one such relay, catching his breath while he looks out at the city. The unsightly pink masses still coat the sides of buildings, but the only signs of damage from the heavy artillery being used are piles or yet uncleared rubble and craters in the streets, marked off by orange construction cones.

Donnie sighs, chin resting in his arms as he idly taps down his goggles. The city had done a pretty good job at restoring the power grid so far as he can see, even though there are still some telltale patches, but that's where the worst of the Kraang growths are.

One moment Esmeryl is prepping for a trip off the R2 to kill slavers, the next thing she knows is she falling through the sky from a crackling portal. Tumbling in freefall above a - city?

She doesn't think. In the blink of an optic, she's in her alt, wings spread as she struggles to slow her descent. But slow it does, and soon the Empress is soaring over an unfamiliar skyline as she takes stoke of everything.

This isn't the R2 for one, and the city looked damaged. Like the aftermath of a fight between Decepticons and Autobots, but not. She doesn't know what the pink substance is, but given how widespread it is... perhaps invasion?

She glides lower, spotting the - humans? That can't be. Earth had been long gone in the time of the R2. Yet-

She needs to land, kick her disguise tech into gear, and then find out as much information as she can- Esmeryl banks right as she spies a familiar figure. Donatello. Donnie-

No. Not the one she knows. Her son had black stone arms. Her son was almost never without one of his battle shells.

She needs to land, and it's with grace and light - too light- steps she does, trotting forward a few steeps before coming to a stop. She's smaller now. Or this Donatello is bigger. Her size. No, she's the one who's shrunk.

Ears flick curiously as she tilts her head as she regards Donnie; curious yet reserved.

That sure is a black-and-grey red-eyed mechanical griffon-dragon maybe about 6ft at the head sitting.

Wait, what was that flash? Donnie tenses, head jerking upwards as the energy spikes on his passive scans, and immediately he's standing straight, breath catching in his throat as he looks for signs of tendrils, another Technodrome emergence...

Please, please no...

Nothing of the sort breaks through, but as he zooms in he catches sight of something escaping the brief portal.

"What...?" He's on the alert now, tracking the movement. The power output is impressive, the shape...unfamiliar, but-

...it's coming this way. It's coming directly for him.

Donnie throws himself to the roof, bracing for a much heavier landing. He cautiously lifts his head, shoving his goggles up as he realizes it's landed already. Much smaller than he'd anticipated, but then the Kraang armors had been in varying sizes and still quite capable of damage. This one doesn't quite match the aesthetic they'd seemed fond of but then, what else could it be??

And yet at the back of his mind, something nags at him that he's seen this somewhere before.

Its ears (ears???) shift and Donnie is all at once on the defensive, pulling his staff from behind him, a simple wooden bō. Internally his heart is pounding, but he tries not to show his fear as he eyes the unknown mechanical beast.

Esmeryl swallows down the grief at how he reacts to her. This is not her son. Not the brave turtle she knew from the R2. It would unreasonable to expect him to behave as such.

He has a wooden bō, for one. Did this version never invent the Tech-bō? Something to ponder on later.

Even so, it still hurts to know this one doesn't know her, and claws dig into the concrete of the rooftop before relaxing with a regal huff. "I am Esmeryl. What planet is this, child?"

Though, perhaps it would be better to simply kidnap him; her needs over his brothers, more so when she doesn't know these brothers. A viable plan if she needs it.

What is he expecting? An attack? Donnie's thoughts are already a swirl in panic, all questioning the integrity of the Prison Dimension, wondering why his brother nearly died if one of the Kraang could have escaped again so easily? As irrational a thing as it might be to think that he could single-handedly take one on, his immediate thought is to take care of the problem before his brothers find out, before they get involved, get hurt, get almost killed, get-

It speaks, and what's more, it's actually offering an introduction aside from a question. Does...it not know? No, not it. Esmeryl. His brow furrows, a frown tugging at his lips. That name, there's...something familiar about it.

Being called a child helps him gather a bit more of himself. He snorts.

"As if you don't know! First time I've heard any Kraang offer a name though."

"Kraang? Such as those Tech and his team fought?" Her head cocks as she sizes up the turtle. It really would be so much easier to just kidnap him. Her son would understand. Or not talk to her, or stick on of his golems on her, or come at her with all his mystics and magic. Teenagers, truly.

"I do not know, child. Planets have many names. I could be on Alchera for all I know."

She should just kidnap him. It would be so much easier.

Edited 2025-08-02 07:49 (UTC)

"What tech team? The only ones who- know what, never mind." If she doesn't know it was his family who actively fought back, his brother who had locked them away again, then that's not a detail Donnie's inclined to volunteer. He tightens his grip on his staff, even as his expression shifts into something more confused.

"Alchera..?" He frowns again. "You really don't know? How'd you escape the Prison Dimension?"

"Foolish child. I only wished answers."

This is not her son and with that goes the scant morals she holds towards him and his own . This cildd is a doppleganger. Something she use until it breaks.

Pity, yet not, and Esmeryl lunges at 'The Child' without a thought.

Based on the way she moves, she knows how Donnie will defend him self or not, and eventually, she will have the turtle in her claws. The grip is tight as she ascends into he air.

"We shall land when I found suitable land. Yet. The planet I am on? Name it, child. And, know that I find no pleasure within the threat to the like of my son for answers. He would understand, though."

Those words are enough of a warning for him, and yet it's still a bit scary going up against something potentially Kraang on your own. But this one has been so insistent on getting answers. The Kraang usually didn't care to waste time with words from what he'd experienced.

Donnie yelps as the robotic beast lunges, and indeed he moves to evade, staff swinging to cover him as he tries to avoid her. Yet somehow it seems she's anticipated just where he intends to be, and panic flashes across his face when he ends up caught up in her claws. Somehow he manages to keep a hold of his bō but as Esmeryl's grasp tightens around him he gasps in pain as it squeezes uncomfortably around his still tender shell.

It's a dizzying view despite hus being so used to flying. But it's different when someone else is doing the piloting.

His free hand tries to no avail to loosen that metal vicelike grip from around him, and he squeezes his eyes shut as he tries to ignore the pain.

"You're crazy!" What is she going about? Her 'son'? Clearly something isn't wired right. But this close he still can't see where a Kraang would insert themselves into the armor, unless this one has some internal housing for the cockpit. If he tries to fry this thing's processor it'd leave him falling, potentially still in her grasp, and that doesn't sound at all appealing. Ugggh it hurts. He feels like he wants to faint and he tries to get a good gulp of air but it's difficult when he's being held so tightly.

"F-Fine..! It's Earth! Happy?!" he wheezes, hand slipping as he tries to hold himself upright.

She banks towards the patch of green -Central park, though her beak clicks in disapproval at all the pink she sees.

She'll have to range out past the city, then. No matter.

Her grip loosens just enough that the child can breath easier. She does require him alive.

Earth. Of course. The planet seems to be a constant in some after some fashion or form. Much like Cybertron is. How quaint.

"I see. Cease squirming before I drop you, child. You're more useful to me alive, yes, but you have three other brothers I can use."

"You're hurting me!" Donnie hisses, but once he feels that grip loosen enough, he greedily sucks in a breath, coughing for his over-enthusiasm. "You think I'm going to sit still in this situation??"

Oh, but that threat is quite effective, the turtle teen freezing outright as it sinks in. It doesn't strike him as unusual that she knows he has brothers, not when he still thinks she might be related to the Kraang.

...but that look only lasts for several seconds before it shifts into something cold. Determined. Desperate. Because he's had enough people threatening his family.

Purple light traces, forming pieces, slotting into missiles that are already taking flight towards her. Reckless? Quite, especially given he's right there with her but she's gone and touched a nerve.

"Foolish child," Esmeryl hisses as she barrel rolls upwards to avoid the missiles. Or, the bulk of them, considering she isn't fast enough to avoid everything.

He's lucky she did not drop him. That she didn't angle so it was he who took the brunt of the attack. Maybe she should have. Missiles hurt, and she is almost certain she is bleeding somewhere, yet like every other time she's been hurt in her long life, the Empress weathers it with grace. "A death wish? I can deliver."

Her grip tightens briefly to crushing levels before it eases off to allow him to breathe as she levels out again.

Something in her lasercore constricts and rebels against this treatment of the boy, but this is not her son. Not the child she befriended on a lark that became something more. This one is a means to an end. Useful alive, but just another organic at the end of the day.

"Now be good. Or useful and help locate a park that isn't pink coated."

Donnie glares defiantly at her, at least until her claws tighten around him again, the sudden pain whiting out his vision as the air's squeezed out of him, and he'd swear he'd heard his bones grinding in ways they shouldn't. He hangs limply in her grasp even once he finds his lungs unobstructed, his shell still twinging along with his arms.

Fear once again takes precedence over anger, and all he can do is try to focus on breathing again as he blearily watches the scenery pass below him.

She'll settle for good, then. Alive and compliant is all she needs; this pale imitation of her Donnie is a means to an end, and he's said a few strange things that she needs clarified.

Yet, how to go about it is the question. Dropping him isn't appealing and with his mystics, it's likely he'd create something to catch him.

She mulls it over as they fly for what feels like hours -it's only about 30 minutes- as she searches out a place to land that is both away from people and provides decent cover while also easy to vacate if his brothers make a sudden appearance.

Eventually, Esmeryl finds a park out on the outskirts of the city and dips down to land near some trees, only somewhat careful of the turtle in her claws as she lands with a thump.

She wastes no time in using a claw to pin him to the ground.

First things first. "Can your brothers track you in any fashion? Say via any of your tech?"

Tech that is just tech and not a mimic. Another difference. Another proof this isn't her Donnie.

The turtle groans as he finds himself almost thrown against the ground and then nearly crushed again under that insistent claw. He still feels dizzy from everything, and his body aches, making him regret not staying back at the lair after all. It's not like regular activities could tell him he hadn't quite healed up from the strain of trying to defend against an up-close strike from a Kraang armor, and the ground feels particularly uncomfortable against his shell. He's only thankful there's at least some bandages and a hoodie between it and the earth beneath him.

"Why...do you care?" he pants, still somehow finding himself able to summon up another glare up at the strange robotic beast. "...if... you're trying to lure my brothers out to finish them... well... fat chance!"

Again with the assumptions, but it's giving her ammo to work with. She can use this to her advantage.

"I'd rather not be interrupted while I gather information," she says, honest if somewhat amused by the defiance. "Rest assured that I have no interest in harming your brothers unless they interfere. Nor you, unless provoked into it. I am not without mercy."

For a given value of Decepticon mercy, that is. "So, answer my question, Donatello. Please."

Well, that certainly gets his attention. Donnie's eyes go wide.

"H-how do you..."

Because the Kraang never cared about their names. And certainly they'd never spoken their full names around them. Was it because of when they assimilated Raph? When he interfaced with the Technodrome? Possible, but...somehow, he doesn't think they'd bother.

No one calls him Donatello except his father. There's a cold sensation sitting in his chest and he's not sure what to name the feeling.

He closes his eyes, letting his head rest against the grass as he tries to catch his breath again.

Why does this one want information?

What if it's not Kraang in origin..?

"...they won't. They don't know the passwords. ...don't hurt them. Please."

Esmeryl's beak twists into a smile as she slowly steps off him, though it's clear she is more than willing to pin him again should it be needed.

She settles back on her haunches, and while she could transform back into rootmode, she'd rather not loom too much over the child.

"Provided they do not interfere, they won't be harmed. Now, you said this was Earth? What year?"

Donnie drags in a deeper breath once he feels the pressure removed from his plastron. He winces, daring to open his eyes again before he tries pushing himself to sit up on shaky arms.

"Twenty...twenty," he says, carefully raising his gaze towards her. No, not Kraang. Organic as the shape of her form suggests, the parts that make her up are lacking in the shapes and curves the Kraang seemed to favor. This is something sleek, delicate but deadly lines that form a creature that is still in its own way stylized, mechanical.

Wings outstretched protectively, a place to hide away from the world...

Donnie blinks, brow furrowing at the thought as he shakes his head.

"Four hundred years into the past? Or... Displaced in time yet again...?" She mutters, more to herself than him. Her tail swishes at the implications that this could be the Earth of the last universe, but before it was Cyberformed.

"Or to another universe..." Not ideal. Not when her only way home was the spacebridge, and her gaze sharpens. Without a way home, or the promise of a way home, she's trapped. Her mouth curves down into a displeased frown. "The pink goo I saw. What is it?"

He watches her as he massages his aching arms. The past..? What did she mean? Are there more than just Casey Jr. getting thrown through time holes?

Donnie flinches at her frown, bracing for...something, he's not sure. At least she doesn't crush him again. Her question is an odd one but it more or less confirms what he'd started to realize.

"...what's left of the Kraang invasion," he says quietly.

Something in her chest pangs at the flinch, but she ruthlessly ignores it. Not her son. Not the Donnie she knows.

Her head tilts to the side as she studies him. She doesn't know much about the Kraang, except that Roku is one, and that the brothers have a history with them. She's also aware of what Tech and his team shared after the mission to defend Mortu and Co.

"Interesting. I don't suppose there's still tech lying around? Or was it all confiscated?"

There's a clear look of distaste at that. "Well, I wouldn't call it tech, at least, not in the manner you're probably thinking. It was more techno-organic, although their battle suits were considerably less gooey." Donnie still can't help for a shudder.

"All that pink stuff is left of their attempt to assimilate things. They could take control of machinery and organic creatures by that method."

"A good thing they are gone, then," Esmeryl says, one wing half opening before she catches herself.

Not her son. Not her daughter, either, and it's doubtful the child came through with her. Pity, but she'll find another child to claim as hers. "And they were stopped. How? You?"

It's possible they did so, though this Donnie is significantly more limited than the one she knows.

Donnie lifts his head at that, pausing. Expectant? He frowns, looking almost...disappointed for a moment before he shakes his head again. What is with him?

"Yeah, guess you could say that. But they were too powerful to defeat in a fight, so we had to trap them again instead, seal them back where they'd been."

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