thecapitol | (no subject)

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WHO| Don and EVERYONE EVER MAN
WHAT| A new challenger approaches!
WHEN | 5/12 and onwards!
WHERE | The training arena, the quarters...and really anywhere else you want to drag him.

This wasn't the first time he'd been told he'd be fighting to the death. Or found himself on another planet. Or really just been in a tight spot. When you were a member of his family, those kinds of things just came with the territory.

This was the first time he did it and was considered a celebrity, however. Someone people actually wanted to know about. Indeed, by the time he made it to his (REALLY nice) quarters, the news was already out and people were fighting to get a look at him, to talk to him, to see if he was real. EXOTIC NEW TRIBUTE REAPED FROM DISTRICT 9! Instead of revulsion, there was curiosity. It was like being in a rock band.

Which made Don uncomfortable. He wasn't exactly used to this kind of attention. So for now, he's trying to avoid it, get used to it. Especially since he knows, at least vaguely, why they are so interested in him. Because they want to see how long he lasts, and what he can do.

How do I keep ending up in these situations...?

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There are too many cameras around here, too many people with funny hats telling him what he should and shouldn't be doing, and it's frustrating as all hell, because... seriously, what the fuck? They tell him he's 'welcome' here but won't let him leave the building. Yeah. That's not very welcoming. Goddamn lairs...

He'd arrived here with nothing but the shirt on his back, and he feels more vulnerable now that he would care to admit, so far from anything that belongs to him. Not a suit or even a goddamn computer he can touch because everyone here is watching. It makes his skin itchy, and he sure as hell can't sleep.

They call it the Training Center, but it's basically just a pimped-out gym. Tony wanders there after a bite to eat. At least the food as good, he'll give them that.

There's a punching bag in one of the corners, and quite frankly, it will feel good to hit something. He's only been there a few minutes before he catches sight of him walking in the room and Tony stops and stares right at him.

"I... I've got nothing," he says, mostly to himself, but gestures to the... guy?, that just walked in, as though someone was actually listening to him. "I've just been rendered speechless."

"I get that a lot."

Don hears him, giving him a reassuring smile as he surveys the area. Hmm. What exactly should he start with? Probably his weaker attributes. Maybe throwing or the bow...

If he were any other person, he would probably just let it go; leave the poor, uh... guy, in peace. Because giant, walking talking turtle, yeah, that's weird. But most people probably have courtesy enough not to gawk at him; ignore the elephant in the room so to speak. Not Tony though. Curiosity has a vice grip on him, and Tony has never exactly learned how to drop something.

Tony walks straight towards him, "Sorry, I just have to ask. What is this?" he gestures to basically all of him.

"This..." At this Don gestures back to himself. "Is a turtle."

At this, his eyes narrow slightly, his hand on his chin. He has spotted that faint glow on Tony's chest.
What was...

"Nice pacemaker, though...right?"

Tony actually laughs at that, drumming the center of his chest with the tips of his fingers, "Something like that," he shrugs.

"No, but seriously, on the scale of say... tadpole to dragon, how nonsensical are you on the evolutionary scale? Is it a lab experiment gone horribly wrong... or I suppose horribly right if giant turtle was the goal there. Uh. No offense."

"...Actually, it was an accident with radioactive alien waste that mutated my DNA. No lab experiments. But not improbable." He goes to pick up a bow. Hm; he'd only ever used one a few times. He picked on up, trying to figure out the weight of it, the grip he could use. "No offense taken."

"That sounds, uh... messy. But you know, good for you. Opposable thumbs is all the rage now-days." Tony moves takes a small side-step to get out of his way. Not that he's about to give him any space, but he's not excited about getting accidentally elbowed in the face, either. "I bet that makes family reunions weird though, you don't keep your mom in a shoebox or anything do you? How did you learn to talk anyway?"

Tony is never really aware when he's being offensive... or, maybe he's a little bit aware, but curiosity always overrides that.

"Um..." Yeah, that second to last bit was a bit awkward. "I actually never knew my mother. We came from a pet shop."

He takes up an arrow.

"As for talking, we all just learned like any normal human would." Hmm, notch it... "Some of us never learned how to stop talking...but...judging by your reaction, I'm guessing you definitely haven't met Mikey."

Speaking of which, he was wondering if he was the only one Panem apparently took. Cracks about Mikey tended to be much funnier when his little brother was there to react to them...especially since how often did Don make them?...

Tony quirks an eyebrow because he's pretty sure that jab was directed at him. But that's never really stopped him before.

"Right. Pet shop. Should have guessed. But what is all this 'we' business, Koopa Troopa?" He watches turtle-guy here notch his arrow, studying how he does it. Tony has never picked up a bow in his life and has no desire to embarrass himself by trying to attempt it now. But knowing the basics could be useful. Maybe. Who the hell knows....

"There's more than one of you?"

"Three brothers and my sensei."

~~Does he look like a Koopa Troopa, seriously-~~ With that, he brought the bow up, pulled the string, aimed, and fired.

And managed only to hit the target in the shoulder.

Well. At least he hit it?...

"Nice," Tony almost teases. It's better than he could do, but... well, he won't be calling him Robin Hood anytime in the near future he doesn't think. "Sensei must have been more of a kung fu master I'm going to assume. Uh... no offense."

God, sometimes he just doesn't know when to put a lid on it. Its a shock more people haven't punched him in the face over the course of his lifetime. Maybe he should just change the subject really fast before he can turn around and smack him with the bow in his hand. "I'm Tony by the way. I hear you and I may have a camping trip coming up in a few days."

Tony is lucky that its Don and not Raph. That punch to the face would have been a guarantee. Don, on the other hand, isn't as easy to rouse - even with that quip towards his father. ~~Considering Master Splinter has caught arrows and other projectiles shot at him mid-air, its not exactly an insult...~~

"You could say that." The turtle shrugs. "I'm Donatello. Though I think its less of a 'may' and more of a 'will'."

"I've never really understood the whole camping thing, personally. Getting away from it all; experiencing the great outdoors and what have you. Not that I have anything against the outdoors. They're great. Outdoors. But then again, I didn't have a lot of that growing up. Not even summer camp. I'm still pretty sure there was a lot less murder going on at summer camp though."

Tony shifts his weight and crosses his arms as though he's settling in to stay and watch.

"I'm pretty sure most camps didn't have much murder going on." Donatello gets another arrow ready. "Otherwise I've got to wonder what the Boy Scouts in Manhattan and Queens are up to on Long Island."

"Long Island? Really? I'm that obvious?" Tony is either impressed that the guy managed to guess that at all, or just totally gave away that's where he grew up by Don's random statement. It wasn't as though New York was an unheard of and rarely-referenced place. But it sounds like he's making a statement, and if he is... well, kudos to him.

"A little." Don gave a small smile. "When you've lived in New York long enough, you can tell who comes from there by the way they talk."

"Eh, well, guilty as charged I suppose. You know those urban legends they have about baby alligators kids flush down the toilet who grow up to be giant mutant swear dwellers who eat people... you don't think there's any truth to that do you? Most stories stem from some kind of truth after all... but I'm just thinking aloud here. What part of New York did you say you were from?" he raises an eyebrow, even though he knows Don never actually said anything of the sort.

"Well," Donatello aimed. "I'm pretty sure Leatherhead tries not to eat people if he can help it."

Twang. Neck hit. The target would bleed out slowly if it was real.

"Around Central Park."

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