steepwithdead | Folkmore

[This man, good grief.]

Nonsense, you're injured. I'll cook. Be there in about fifteen minutes.

[this man is stupid.]

I was going to protest that I could make a grilled cheese sandwich, but, I don't remember if I have cheese rn.

Is it difficult to make? You could give me the recipe, and I'll bring the cheese.

[he doesn't even know it's literally 3 ingredients slapdashed together.]

You'll heal faster with proper nutrition, though, so I'll make you something else.

[excuse u, he's an artisan of grilled cheeses.]

Not even a little. You butter bread, slap it down with cheese, and any extra fillings you have. I put a lot of spinach or arugula.

Alright, thank you. Let me get moving.

I'll bring a little of everything, so you'll have supplies to indulge later.

See you soon.

[And he's off to do some shopping! He'll arrive at the apartment a little while later, and he'll knock first before trying the door. If it's open, he can let himself inside without Leonardo having to get up.]

My hero.

[Leonardo at least is up enough to get the door open for Caduceus. For once in his life, he's wearing a shirt, clearly trying to cover up his cracked chest plate.]

C'mon in, it's cleaner than it usually is.

[Caduceus is out of his armour for the first time in a while, since the weather has (probably temporarily) died down a bit. At least enough to get him here, and hopefully home safe. Instead he's in a comfy pair of trousers and one of his favoured flowing pastel shirts, with long, gossamer sleeves. He has a shoulder bag full of groceries on him, the weight of which he adjusts as he steps inside.]

I hope you don't think I'm here to judge your clutter levels.

Oh, no, but now I'm unable to stop thinking about it. [He offers back as he steps aside to let Caduceus come in. It is unreasonably unfair how nice the other man looks.

He closes the door behind the firbolg, opting to just shunt those thoughts aside.]

I'm trying to adjust to how quiet it feels here without my brother. Might be making me antsy. [He leads the way to the kitchen, assuming Cad probably wants to put those down sooner rather than later.

The kitchen itself is small, but clean. Lived in.

A drying rack is set up next to the sink itself, a few dishes and a singular pan have been left out to dry. A blue dish towel laid next to it. The kitchen table next to the window has a book and mug left out. Leonardo's preferred cowl has been draped along the back of his chair. Donnie's chair is left tucked in place where it was left.

The fridge has pictures pinned on it of Leonardo's immediate family. Pictures Leo got from Casey, new pictures were taken of the two older turtles on their trip around Folkmore. A lot of them are Leo and Casey together. Someone is an embarrassingly doting father.

A mid-sized schlumbergera sits on the windowsill of the largest window in the kitchen. A tiny turtle shaped watering can settled next to it. Curtains have been pinned back to let the plant soak in the sunshine.]

[There's something comforting about a lived-in home. A perfectly-cleaned house is like a warning sign, more of a display, a presentation, than a place where someone lives. Too clinical. He likes little signs of mess, of "I'll do it later". Reminds him of his own home, the clutter and the charm. People don't often realize how important tiny messes are.]

It really is dire, isn't it? For him to be gone for so long.

[Caduceus sets the bag on the counter, looking around the kitchen before he starts to unload it. The family photos are charming, and the potted plant makes him smile softly, pleased to see it in a good state. He bends to brush his fingers lightly over one of the branches, murmuring a quiet inquiry. There are no words in its response, but he feels a subtle warmth in the air around it, the brush of a frond against his fur. Yes, it's doing quite well.]

Yeah. Normally, even when we're upset, we're still living together at least.

[The situation sucks. Leonardo feels... lost. His only solace is Donnie is at least alive. He's here. It is all the turtle has for comfort.

Watching Caduceus reach out to the plant does draw a smile to Leo's face for a moment. Fondness and affection are easy to find for the other man. That much eases some of the loneliness he is feeling.]

Trying to force anything will make him retreat harder, so, I'm just kind of waiting, I guess.

Hm.

[That is the unfortunate nature of stubborn people, he's found. Things progress on the schedule of whoever is more obstinate. He's been surrounded by those types for so long, it's a blessing he's learned patience. For those on borrowed time, however, it can be harder to justify.]

Have you considered living with someone else? At least until you've recovered. It isn't a good idea for you to be on your own in your condition.

[Broken bones can be tricky; he can imagine a broken shell would present similar issues. Even healing spells need to be done with care, lest they heal wrong for some reason or another.]

Not really? I'm sure Casey would want me to move into the lair, but, I'd... feel strange doing that. It'd be imposing on the teenagers who actually live there, and I'd feel uncomfortable there. It was my childhood home at one point. I'm fine to visit, but staying makes me feel... weird.

[He rolls up his shirt, showing off the damage. To Leonardo, it isn't the scariest thing in the world. The pins, wiring and dried resin holding everything together is doing its job, The crack happened along the weaker part of his chest plates, Caduceus had likely seen in passing. The weakness had finally given out under the right circumstances.]

Eh, it's not the first crack I've gotten. Normally, I'm up sooner than this. I've been a little lazy. [He lets go of the fabric, letting his shirt fall back into place.] Casey did a great job. Donnie usually handles it, but- you know, he wasn't-

[He shakes his head.] He knew I was in good hands, that's what matters.

[He wasn't there, is the implication he gets out of that, unspoken but clear enough. He doesn't like that. He may not often get along with his own brother, but if he'd cracked himself open, Caduceus would have been there in a heartbeat. He'll never forget the feeling he'd experienced when they'd reached the menagerie, and he'd seen all those statues, so many familiar faces frozen in time, and he hadn't known if they were dead and gone for good, or-

-no. He would gone to Colton, at once. He would have gone to any of them.

He reaches a hand up as Leonardo shows the crack, pausing mid-air as the fabric drops back down. It does look like a solid job of mending, but he can't help himself.]

May I?

Oh, sure. [With his one hand, he tugs the shirt up and, well, off. Back to his usual preference. He slings the shirt over his good shoulder, leaving the damage visible.]

Like I said, not my worst break. I think… Maybe my arm weighed things down a little, but I'm no doctor here. [he can put two and two together at least.]

[Caduceus closes the distance this time, resting his hand gently against the plastron near the spot of the break, and murmurs a healing incantation. The spell washes over the wound, soothing aches and keratin, speeding up the process a little. Not a full cure, sometimes magic just isn't enough. But it's something.]

I'm not exactly a doctor here, either, [he murmurs, amused.] I do think you're right, though. The extra weight on that side would do you no favours. Now's a good time to give it, and yourself, an extended break.

[Leonardo watches the magic with genuine curiosity. Healing magic fascinates him. He wishes this kind of thing had been more possible back home. The gentle soothing feeling helps with a dull ache the turtle had been ignoring for most of the day.]

Hey, you're close enough to one for me to give you credit. [He offers back with amusement.] Yeah, I've been keeping it off. Even if it's making things take longer to do around the apartment than I'd like.

You should have help. [As he withdraws, Caduceus isn't afraid to make his disapproval known.] He's doing you a disservice, as your brother, by not being here for you.

[That does a fair job of making Leonardo's shoulders slump. The upset Caduceus had seen through their text conversation becomes clear enough on Leo's features.

He wants Donnie here, even if it's just his brother eating corn from a damn can nearby and complaining about Leo rushing his healing process.]

He should be, but... he's so wrapped up in fixing his own problem, he won't come near us. [Leo would like to be plain about it, but, he's very aware if he involves anyone else, Donnie will not take it well. The last thing he wants is more of Donnie running.] I tried arguing with him about it, tried reasoning, and he's... just not hearing me.

[Leonardo had been cagey before, so as much as he wants to, Caduceus refrains from asking what exactly this problem is.

Instead he lifts Leo's shirt off his shoulder and holds it up so the turtle can slip back into it more easily than wrestling one-armed. He's here right now, so he can help. In his experience, an extra hand is always useful, even for something you can do on your own.]

There will come a day when he'll be able to hear you again. [That isn't always the case. But these two have been together for long enough, been through enough, that he has confidence this is temporary.] But for right now you're within your rights to be angry and upset with him, and you don't need to smother that. Feel what you feel, so once it's time to reconcile, you won't explode with it all at once.

[The assistance with getting the shirt back on surprises Leo, but he gladly accepts the help. It earns a brief smile, before it's extinguished again.

He needs a moment to pull his thoughts back together into something coherent.] I know you're right. He'll come back.

I just needed him, and he didn't come. Casey needed him, and he's not here. I thought he'd want to be with us. He died, and I mourned him, and it doesn't feel like it matters to him.

I'm sure it matters. It usually does in some way, even if the shape of it is different.

[He shifts to his bag, unloading the handful of grocery supplies he'd picked up while he was out, to keep his hands busy. He's here to help and feed Leonardo, after all.]

As you said, he died. And we both know there's complicated feelings wrapped up in that. Everyone grieves differently, especially when the grief is for your own self. You both need to figure out how to meet in the middle with it.

[That part takes time. So much more time than you want it to.]

[Leonardo just releases a heavy sigh. The weight of an old grief pressing down on him as he tries to find his voice again. Donnie was so damn resolute about his stupid plan. That hadn't changed. Not as far as Leo knew.]

If he meets me in the middle. He's as stubborn as I am.

I know- he was struggling too. [He has to acknowledge that. Donnie hated being sick, thrashed against it like someone being swept away by the tides. A useless fight as forces so much bigger than you swallowed you whole.] He was sick, something none of us could cure. An illness that was slowly killing him. He chose to go on a suicide mission and die fighting, rather than just... be with us when he couldn't keep going.

[Leonardo is deluding himself, just a little. Desperate to think there are false positives still. Clinging to the idea even if it is a delusion, a comfortable lie to keep himself calm.

He rubs at his face, trying to shake it off. He doesn't try to pretend for Caduceus. Not seeing a point. The firbolg would see through it.]

Sorry, this is- depressing. Yeesh.

[Caduceus shakes his head. It is depressing, sure, yes. That's natural, considering the topic. But he's not here just to cheer the other up or bring food.]

You don't have to get into it if you really don't want to. But don't think that you need to stay cheerful for me, either. These things need to be talked about. [He's mentioned this before; they need to be discussed before he bursts. And it's best for these conversations to be shared with adults, lest he accidentally burst with one of the children.

He steps past Leonardo and grabs one of the table chairs, setting it in the corner of the kitchen.]

Come on, sit down. You're supposed to be resting. We can talk while I make you lunch.

[He does move to sit down, be it a bit heavily. Releasing a whoosh of a breath.] If I was trying to force myself to be cheerful, you'd know immediately and probably throttle me.

[Its an easy enough reflex to pull on the Commander persona. Leonardo hates how almost comforting it is for the moment he's letting himself fall back into it. He's had to snap that mask on so many times to press his own feelings aside for the greater good. It is always an act. A projection of what people expected of him. What people needed from him. He was always a good liar; he knew how to twist things to where he needed them. Pulling himself into a new shape wasn't the hardest thing to do.

It was just uncomfortable when it became to who he was all the time. It became harder to stop being This. Even then, it was a comfort to be someone else for a while. Each loss only made it easier to dig into that persona and let it be him. Just for a while longer.

Even with being down an arm and openly tired-looking, Leonardo is able to sit up rigidly straight. Shoulders squared, head held up high, his expression settling into something confident and overly heroic. He is able to smooth away anything troubled or outwardly tired to appear like he was ready to lead. Commander Leonardo always has everything perfectly in control.

It would almost be believable if Caduesus wasn't aware of who Leonardo was under the surface.]

Nothing to worry about, Caduceus. I'm perfectly fine and not having any issues. I'll have a heroic speech cooked up in just a second.

[And he drops the act and slumps back into the chair with a wave of his hand. The act dropped completely like it had never happened. Ah, coping mechanisms.] A little obvious, I think, if I tried that.

[He rubs at his face a little tiredly.]

The whole damn thing is a mess. It just keeps getting messier.

Edited 2025-10-11 17:51 (UTC)

[Oh boy, that... sure was a performance. And it's a good thing it was a performance, because, well.]

You're right, I would have liked to throttle you a little for that one. [Or at least tossed one of the blocks of cheeses he's pulling out of his bag at a certain turtle's head. Instead, he peacefully continues unpacking.] Still, at least now I know what to look for.

[Should Leonardo some day try to feed him what most of his friends back home would call "the bullshit", his insight checks are rollin' with advantage. You just played yourself, 'Nardo.]

Terminal illnesses are a different kind of monster than dying in battle or from some sudden accident. All deaths are painful in some form, but the creeping manner of a long sickness is like bleeding out, or drowning too deep. You feel it coming, yet can do nothing. The helplessness of it kills almost as painfully as the illness itself. That is something not easily shaken, and it curls around everyone involved, not just the one who's sick.

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every time that icon comes out you know shit's real

Never meant for that icon to be the 'shits real' icon, yet here we is

"goin thru it", the iconic face