managerbehindthrone: (Default)
Esmeryl ([personal profile] managerbehindthrone) wrote2025-08-02 03:02 pm

Open post

PSLs, unfinished story lines, AUs?

Drop them here.
purplexing: (ready to mys-tech your face)

[personal profile] purplexing 2025-08-02 06:17 am (UTC)(link)
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.