3501/Right tool for the job.

Right tool for the job.
Date of Scene:	22 September 2020
Location:	Casey's Garage
Synopsis:	Donnie, Leo, and Casey hang out at Casey's Garage. Heather brings a car in for service and some bikers get more than they bargained for!
Cast of Characters:	Casey Jones, Donatello, Leonardo, Heather Danielson

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Casey Jones has posed:
Casey's garage is small cramped, not a place that is use to being full bays. But he has three of em, and right now got three cars to work by the end of the day. He told people he was opening up more, no longer random hours. After his six call, turning over a new leaf, he had three cars to fix up, nothing fancy, two Fords and one Firebird.

Firebird, classic muscle car 1967 newly restored old man, bought it for his kiddo. Show him a real American car, well the issue is it won't start, and something is mad wrong with it.

Casey is standing there hand on the hood, as he pops it working on it, the other two already done. Easy spark plugs, oil change, and easy-breezy, classic. This one he can't seem to figure out, as he grumbles, reaching for his beer resting on the workbench, warm cheap, hitting the spot. A long pull of the beer, as he wipes his mouth with the back of his sleeve. Casey's hair flaps in front of his face once more for the 100 time today, throwing it back out of the way, with the flip of his right hand. "I love you so much, but I hate you, baby." His hand is patting the side of the car as he stares down, no eyes for any creeping up ninjas, too focused.

Donatello has posed:
    Speaking of creeping up ninjas -- April had suggested that Donnie might consider partnering with Casey to resolve some issues with the Turtle Van. It was, ehem, used by Michelangelo to get involved with some world ending events, and now is in need of some love and care. Let another man do his machines for him? It was an alien thought for Donatello, but there's no reason he can't check in. But the Turtle Van? Oh no, that's back at home.

    "Hey, Casey," a voice interrupts. At some point -- and it's unclear when -- Donatello has managed to sneak into the garage and positioned himself behind Casey, his shell leaning against one of the other cars in an adjacent bay.

Casey Jones has posed:
There it is the issue a faulty wiring, right there, and there, and there. Quickly, Casey is removing it, as he grabs the spare wire starting to re-spoil it, slowly hands moving as he hears the voice."Don Don, my man. Wanna do some work today? I got cars coming in like mad; I'm focusing on biz for a bit, gotta get my head all right to do something. I'll buy ya and the boys, as many pizzas as ya'll can cram in your ever-loving pizza mouths."

Casey is working on a classic fire-bird, his hands deep in the guts of the car, as he is working as he starts to wipe his hands on a rag slowly, as he walks over to turn the key now, as it rumbles to life."YES!" His hand is going up with a wicked fist-pump, walking to the cheap landline to place a call, as he speaks, with the rotary still in the center." Mr. Merick, your car is working, come pick it up." His voice is soft as he hangs it up now, as he starts to look at the other vehicles."Be right back, rolling em out front for pick up. Got three more coming in within 30; it's a busy day Don Don." With that, he is driving one by one the other cars out on to the crumped lot, as he walks back in, washing his hands in the sink.

Donatello has posed:
    Hm. A chance to work on some heavy machinery? An offer to get paid off in pizza? The turtle reaches a three-fingered hand up to make brief contact with his chin -- a thinky gesture. "You know, Casey," he begins, a smirk growing on his face. "I think we could work something out."

    Each of the turtles have their own way of dealing with the mind. Leo might succeed with meditation. Raphael enjoys working out. Michelangelo has his video games. Donatello, though? This is his meditation. His koan is machinery. Let the intellectual parts of his brain, those tuned to the specific needs and wants of machines and technology, take over so the other parts can clear up the log jam.

    Donnie steps away from his spot and folds his arms across his chest. "Alright, Casey. What's next?" he asks.

Casey Jones has posed:
"I order pizza, watcha want on it. Three more coming soon, than we fix em, and it's going to be non stop today. I'm the cheapest in the block, and I do it quickly. I got a rep, but baseball swinging has been keeping outta here too much." Casey pulls out a broken cellphone, mostly glass over a shattered screen, as he scrolls poking uber eats."So, I'm do a pep, and your gonna want something weird, so let's get dat in ya know bro." As he waits, the sound of the two of the cars leaving is heard, Casey peers out to make sure it's the owners, lousy block, dumb fucks."Yeah, it's the right folks, good last time someone jacked a car from me, I made their inney into an outty."

Leonardo has posed:
Leo had made certain promises.

He'd given his word.

To him that was as to law. If he said that he would help Casey get better, he meant it, but more than that... he fully intends to follow through. Besides, there were no projects to occupy his time. He'd meditated a great deal since returning a few days hence, trained, but mostly he sat in the lair waiting for something to happen. Which is fine, at least to him, of all the turtles he is easily the most patient.. and the most comfortable with silence.

Obviously he has his vices, movies, pinball (just to piss off Raph), but a project focuses his efforts on something that gives him a sense of personal fulfillment... and even he isn't above such gratifications, even if he would say it was a selfless gesture.

Crouched in the shadows, his three fingered hand rests on the edge of a roof. Ballcap pulled low over his maskless face, but he's small enough that few people wouldn't notice if they looked up... Then again, most people /don't/ look up. In a flash, he's moved down to ground level and slips into the body shop, leaning backwards against a far wall with his arms resting over his chest with a grin half ground into place on his oval face seeing Donnie settle in to get to work helping Casey with the cars.

"Whatever it is, just no pineapples... there is no room for pineapples on pizza."

Donatello has posed:
    "Yeah, that's what Kai says about pineapple," Donnie replies to the voice, almost immediately and without thinking. His head turns to follow his words and spots Leonardo as the source. Donnie turns away to watch Casey again, making a point to avoid Leo's gaze.

    Donatello takes a couple steps towards one of the incoming cars and gives Casey a nod. "I happen to like pineapple, but I'm good with whatever," he adds, giving Leo another glance. "Hey, Leo," he greets, cautiously.

Casey Jones has posed:
"Fine than two Peps, it's easy and means I touch this damn thing less." Casey pokes it order four pizzas now, as he thinks if there are two, they might all be lurking in the shadows; pizza is the excellent turtle summing portal; he knows this well. "30 minutes or it's free." The joke rolls off his tongue as he picks up that beer, heading out to meet the man now about the firebird, as he hands over the keys. He is done talking to the old biker with a chuckle, heading inside of the shop, slamming down the door, as he waits for the next set of cars. As he finishes the beer throwing it into the trash with a loud shattering sound of glasses, as he leans against that heavy metal door, his hands rubbing his eyes slowly."Hey Leo." His voice sounds more cheerful than earlier, but not by much."I hope April is happy I worked and stuff, showing I wanna be a better man and stuff." Like always, Casey taking the wrong message or trying to show it in the wrong way but least he is trying to do right by her again, but time will tell if he can stay sane.

Leonardo has posed:
Leo tilts his head at Donnie's overt attempt to avoid eye contact, curious. A hand comes up to flick outward across the underside of his oval jaw, mouth twisted to the side thoughtfully for several short moments in consideration, until he ultimately decides... whatever he decides. It's neigh impossible to tell where the eldest turtle is concerned.

Especially with him standing in the shadows like that.

Could it be that his time in Japan, now over, and he's already falling back into those old habits of being a taskmaster? Could all of those things he said just been the high of returning to their masters home?

He rolls his shoulder back and pushes off the wall in Casey's direction, "I'm sure she'll be happy to know you're putting in hours, Casey.. but I hope you realize it's going to take longer than one day to win her over..." Cautiously, so as not to shatter the bubble with such a pinprick of bluntness.

Grinning, Leo pulls his METS cap lower, he's not wearing his mask afterall, and leans in to take a look at the engines of one of the vehicles... As if he has any clue what any of that does. "I have no idea what any of this does." It's more for himself than either of them.

Donnie, at least, knows this is true without being told.

"How's Kai?" Looking sidelong to his brother.

Donatello has posed:
    Donatello's head bobs up and down, nodding in careful consideration of his brother's assessment of Casey and April. Of the brothers, Donatello probably knows her best, but he seems to be absolutely in agreement with Leonardo's advice. His eyes shift to Casey. "You know about her cousin, right?" he asks the mechanic, his brow rises a touch as he waits for a reply to that. It's a loaded question -- there's probably more there than Donnie is giving up.

    Walking over to engine compartment currently vexing Leo, Donatello grins and then looks over at Casey once more. Leo has no idea what any of this does?

    "Aint that the truth," he calls over to Casey, good-naturedly.

    Though, once Leonardo asks about Kainashi's condition, Donatello's ease seems to fumble slightly. "Uh," he begins, giving Leonardo a careful look. Did he know? Had Raphael betrayed him? Or is it just that Leo knows everything that's going on? Donatello would need to proceed with caution.

    "She's...good," Donnie answers carefully. "Alopex took care of her concussion. She did a good job."

    There's a pregnant pause. "...Not that I care."

    Sure, Donnie. Sure.

Casey Jones has posed:
"Yeah, I know that, and yeah, I know about her and well, roommate." Casey's voice is soft as he nods slowly, watching the boys for a moment, as he shoves off the door. His gear is no-where in the shop, no hockey sticks, no mask, no beating folks."I'm hanging up my Sticks for her Don, she asked me, and well I picked what was important to me, and she wants me to try and be like normal, and be like a man. So, yeah, if ya'll call and I'll come a running, but no more doing it late nights, no more seeking it out, no more starting that fight. If I see, it yeah and I'll protect em, and the bullies need smackings and shit. But, had a scare last night, she was there, and yeah, no more hunting the apex predators of the night."

With that he sighs softly, as he pushes his hair out of his face again, as he bites his lip slowly, as he looks over at Leo."Yeah, Rome aint' no building good in a day, I know, and I knows. But, gonna ask her to maybe do another go around, see if she is willing and stuff." Nods slowly, as he reaches over to pour himself a glass of water, into an almost clean glass, as he downs it quickly, that large man nodding with a little content sigh."I ain't wanna hope for the not, and if she turns me down and well, I'll figure out my life den." With that he looks over at Donnie, as he stuides the man, he will talk to the nerd later, nerdie needs help yeah, and I'm just he man to do it Casey you know all about chicks, yeah you do.

Leonardo has posed:
"Mmm." Leo 'might' not know there's something there to know 'before' Donnie begins to speak, but he knows his brother better than most people know themselves. The little tells that tell the tale of cautionary, almost deception by way of omitted information. The bare brow above his left eye elevates gently, turning to look at the purple brother with a slow nod and puffed bottom lip where his tongue is running along the front of his teeth.

"Good." That she's been taken care of.

A casual glance down at Donnie's knuckles, the shreaded canvas wraps, the bags beneath his eyes.. his work station. He doesn't voice anything, but his look says he knows a whole lot more than he's saying. Which 'could' be worse. It's an age old Leo tactic. Allow his own silence to affect the other brothers imagination as to what he could possibly already have found out.

It's worked so far.

"Sure." The word is punctuated, spoken innocently uninnocent. Nodding his head once, drawn out, blinking at his brothers assurance, like I care.. A hand comes up to slap Donnie's shoulder, turning away from the turtle to focus on the human.

"I hope she says yes. You're a good guy, Casey, if a little rough around the edges. We've already been over the whole if you hurt her, I'll break you schtick, though.. so I'll save it. Except to say this-" One finger up, expressively lowering it to point at Jones, "-Don't screw this up. She cares about you, so don't be an asshole, get her hopes up, and let her down. That's. not. cool. Say it with me... not cool."

Donatello has posed:
    "...And also we'll break you," Donnie adds, a grin slowly forming on his face.

    With Leo, Donatello's imagination does not need any time to run wild on this one. It has been doing that for weeks. These initial moments with Leonardo, since his return from Japan, have been filled with caution for Donatello. Any moment, the hammer could come down. And it does come down, at least figuratively, as Leo's hand gives Donnie's shoulder a slap. This produces a slight jump from the turtle. Be cool, Donnie. Be cool.

    Donnie drags his hand against the top of the engine block and gives Casey a sideways glance. Now that they've reestablished the status quo, the real work could begin. "So, what's wrong with this one, Casey?" he asks.

Casey Jones has posed:
"Not cool, to hurt April, I mean I got it, bro." Casey nods slowly as the door buzzes as he looks at it, waiting now for the car to pull up, old lincoln town car, as he speaks softly." Mr. Black, I'll grab it, and he wants an inspection." His eyes are watching the older car, as he waits for it to get closer."I'll go you hide, but he usually is easy to get outta here, and stuff."

"I know, break me like a dash on the floor dropped from the top of the empire state building, I remember." Casey nods slowly, with a wicked little chuckle his hand is running along that next car, as he looks down at it."This is for scrap Donnie; we need to junk it. I bought it for a song and a dance." With that, he walks over to the door, opening it now. Another car is moving towards the building, as he steps outside to greet the owner. In a fine suit, an older black gentleman is talking money passes hands, and Casey is driving the car into the garage."Full check over, Oil change, and inspection easy as the wind is blowing, for a golf swing."

Casey walks over to get the machine, as he starts to hook it up watching the brothers."So, I have been missing, been in my own little head space too , much later, aliens attacking. You went to Japan or something I heard Leo, and you Don Don, whatcha been up to?"

Leonardo has posed:
"And also we'll break you." Leo repeats with Donnie, nodding along with his brother, mostly for emphasis since Casey already knows this. It's well documented fact now, written into holy writ.

Scripture.

Mess with the report, get the rod.

The turtles don't play where it pretains to April.

... or Vern, but he's a waaay distant second. His protection a result of his proximity to the aforementioned April.

Leo takes a step back when Casey goes to talk business outside, just incase the fellow takes a peek in, wouldn't want him to see two humanoid five foot turtles standing around.. Stepping forward when their pal rejoins them. "Yes, Japan. Couple weeks." Nodding, arms sliding across his chest with a side glance at his younger brother.

"Yes, Don Don, whatcha been up to?"

is he actually taking pleasure from this?

That is a yes.

Donatello has posed:
    Donatello instinctively ducks down behind the car destined for junking as Casey moves out to greet the customer. His face has soured, slightly, now knowing that his task will be to break this one down, but he doesn't say anything about it just yet. At least it's something to work on? And who knows, maybe Casey'll let him keep some of the parts?

    When Casey asks about what he's been up to, and his brother reinforces the question, Donnie's gaze briefly lingers on Leo before returning to Casey. "Uh, you know, same old..." he answers before moving to retrieve a screwdriver from the toolbox. He takes a breath and leans down under the hood to begin unscrewing this or that.

    "Hey, Casey, I, uh, need some WD-40 for this one," he begins, starting to walk towards a hallway that leads to the back room. "I know you have some back here so I'll just go and get it..." The turtle doesn't pause, even for a beat, before he heads out of the garage and into the hallway. He doesn't leave anyone enough time to point out that there's at least two cans of WD-40 in the garage, presently within the turtle's reach. He's just gotta get out of there and collect himself.

Casey Jones has posed:
"The really good stuff is in the back, Leo, like top shelve stuff for hard turning and work." Casey nods slowly, trying to lie to Leo to save Don, I mean, he sucks at lying, but the attempt counts right. But the internal believes it was a good Job, Casey is the thought, you totally got him with that tricky tricky. "So yeah, what Japan likes and stuff, tell me about it I ain't been outta New York, much even ya know go to my family farm, that about it ya know up in the boring old upstate."

That machine dings, the car is totes fine, as he starts on the oil change lifting it up into the air, he is going to bang this one out, as he watches Leo for a moment, and then at the Don, or where he went to nothing outta the normal right, ya know they vanish like all the time."Tell me, aboutcha trip Leo."

Leonardo has posed:
Leo is a lot of things, but easily deceived by a poor deceiver isn't one of them. Suffice that he grins, a knowing grin, and winks at Casey. Snapping both hands and pointing at their vigilante friend as he takes a step back, spins on a heel and goes to grab the axil grease, which he holds out to Donnie when he returns.

"It's beautiful." Japan, leaning an elbow against the rack, arm up just a bit above the level of his head to support his upper body, "I spent a few days in Okinawa where Master is from.. but mostly I was in smaller villages, helping the people there. They're less inclined to freak out when a turtle shows up wanting to give them assistance, at least one ancient spirit is a turtle afterall." He grins fondly at those memories.

"At a lot of sushi." He's obviously dumbing it down, substantially. The emotional experience isn't something he's inclined to share, even if he were much of a sharer... he's not. Never really has been.

"You should get out and see the world, Casey. New York has its charms... but..." A shrug. "It has something, anyways."

Donatello has posed:
    After some time spent in the back room, mostly trying to collect himself, Donatello stands tall -- ready to return to the garage and handle the apparent onslaught from his brother. He could do this. He could get through it. Okay.

    "Alright!" Donnie calls out. "Sorry about that, guys!" Donatello comes walking back into the garage, pleased as punch, but entirely without a can of lubricant. He doesn't address it -- it's likely he completely forgot the context of his ruse. As he passes by his brother, Donnie takes the can of grease. "Thank you..." he replies with a smile, bringing it back over to the car's open engine compartment. Heh, heh.

Casey Jones has posed:
"That sounds amazing, Leo, super cool as they say Kawaii!" The last word is butcher, but he is trying right, wrong use, everything so odd when Casey says it. But he is working now, as he starts to undo the oil cap, as he drains it into a pan. As he then waits, to fill it up, it's quick easy and ain't nothing but a G thang."I have no desire to leave my home, ain't nothing out there did it for a living for a bit, and it sucked."

With that done, he lowering the car, as he watches Leo, as he waits for the green one to speak, as he drives the car out front, as he slams the door shut. He then calls from the phone, again old rotary, as he talks to the older man, telling him it's good as gold.

Now Donnie is back, as he nods towards the man with a little chuckle."I'm outta the good lube; I'll have to get some more." Calling him out on the bad lie, also ribbing him a little, he has no idea that Leonardo is the ironmaster of well fear and stuff, always been cool to Casey.

Leonardo has posed:
Leo doesn't look very imposing, but after a lifetime spent cultivating the image, it's very low maintenance these days. All he has to do is stand back and watch, arms crossed on his shell, and a little grin on his face beneath the bill of his hat. Most of the pieces fall into place without any effort.

And despite his attempts to be different.

It's his role, he gets it, and he plays the part.

Periodically glancing up at the entrance to see if the pizzas are here yet, he does glance to Donnie and Casey when the latter does some friendly ribbing of his brother.. Oh, he'd seen him not come back with lubricant. He just chose not to say anything!

Donatello has posed:
    Donatello busies himself underneath the hood, applying some of the axil grease to a totally, utterly, unstuck screw. He sets the can down on a nearby cart and effortlessly removes the screw. After a pause, Donatello lets out a few manufactured sound effects to indicate strain. After all, he's supposedly working on unsticking a tough screw! After a good show of it, Donnie loudly puts the screw down onto the metal cart. YEAH.

    Donatello leans, casually, against the front end of the car. "So, Casey," he begins. "What are you going to do with all these parts?"
.

Casey Jones has posed:
"Give em to you." Casey nods at the car, as he opens a fresh beer, as he flicks the top into the trash, with a little chuckle watching it get nothing but net."I was told, you need parts for that damn van of yours, and you won't let me work on it, so take em and fix it up." With that he chuckles slowly, sipping on the beer, as he watches Leonardo, the quiet time is not good time, it means ya in your head and heads are bad, they make ya dumb.

Leonardo has posed:
Leo is a stealthy turtle.

When Master Splinter was teaching them that part of skillset, he paid close attention, so it is that in moments like this? When people take their eyes off him.. they look back and there's just nobody there.

Maybe that's why he's so scary?

He comes and goes with relative leasure and leaves only the feeling that he's watching in his wake!

Donatello has posed:
    "Really?" Stunned, Donatello tilts his head to look at Casey. "Why? I mean, not that I'm complaining, but... don't you need them?" Donatello turns his head to look at the car -- his face no longer sour at the thought of having to tear it down. Instead, he sees four new tires for the Turtle Van. In fact, without waiting for an answer, Donnie kneels to check the size of the tires.

    Getting his answer for the tire sizes, Donnie stands up and turns to see....only Casey. Huh. Donatello relaxes a touch, now that he notices that Leo has left.

Casey Jones has posed:
"Yeah man, it's yours and I help ya guys when I can ya know that." Casey nods slowly with a little soft chuckle, as he shakes his head relaxing now that the tense moment is over."Ya going to tell me whatcha been up to bro, come on tell good old Casey." His voice is teasing, friendly as he looks around seeking Leo."Tell, me and well it's payment for all dem parts."

Donatello has posed:
    Donatello raises his brow again. "Wow. Thanks!" he replies. Donnie nods his head and turns to look at the car again, now that its destiny has been sealed. The turtle manages a smile and then another nod of thanks. "That'll help out a lot for the Turtle Van."

    But then, Casey demands his payment. Donnie sighs, looking around for Leo again. "I told you," he tries. "Same old...Same old."

Casey Jones has posed:
"Wanna head into the back and eat pizza it's here and talk, no lies in my home." Casey nods slowly watching Donatello, for a moment as he moves to unlock the door into the aparment upstairs, as he grabs the pizzas from the back porch, the joys of delivery the internet no social needed."Come on Don."

Donatello has posed:
    "Casey," the turtle whines.

    The turtle firmly plants himself in front of the car, leaning under the hood again. "You just promised these parts to me. I gotta get them out of your garage before you change your mind." He manages a grin and takes a breath. The turtle stays silent for a moment before he sticks his head up and out of the car.

    "I'll tell you -- but you gotta keep this to yourself. Leonardo can't know."

Casey Jones has posed:
"Of course, my office strip this stuff later, ya a night owl or turtle whatever." With that Casey is taking his pie into his cheap one bedroom above the shop, setting it down on the table. It is clean shocking enough, but that is case he is not been here, with so many damn plants, growing all over, as he starts to water them this is a long task, cause it gives him more of that sweet sweet oxygen.

Donatello has posed:
    Donatello sighs and sets the screw driver down on the wheeled cart near the car. It lands with a satisfying THUNK. Donnie brushes his hands off, one with the other, and follows Casey up the stairs. His expectation is filth and odor, but Donnie's face flashes a look of shock and surprise. The apartment is not at all as grimey as he thought it would be -- not at all.

    Donatello helps himself to the pizza box, opening its lid and plucking off a slice. He opens his mouth and allows himself a fairly large bite. "I need to know that you heard me, Casey," Donnie begins, his mouth full of food. "Leonardo can't know."

Casey Jones has posed:
"Leonardo, the master ninja and creeper will not hear it from my lips, but if he is hear listeing not my bad right bro?" Casey nods slowly, as moves from plant to plant working them with the water can, as he looks back at Don."I mean, can't get blamed, I ain't able to tell when ya'll snooping around and shit."

Donatello has posed:
    Donatello squints his eyes, considering that for a moment. "No," he answers. "It would still be your fault. I don't even want to talk about this, but..." Donatello continues to chew the pizza slice, sighing a bit. "...You did say my information would be payment for the car parts you're giving me. I don't exactly have a choice, here." Donnie sighs -- it's true. The Turtle Van has seen better days and undoubtedly would need parts. And Casey Jones has those parts.

    "It's...about a girl," Donatello explains quietly.

    Donatello and Casey Jones are currently in Casey's above-garage apartment. They were downstairs in the garage, wrenching on some cars, but just recently took a break to go upstairs and have some pizza. They surely could come back down...

Heather Danielson has posed:
    Ever have one of those days? Yeesh. Heather doesn't even -live- in New York City. She did however, buy a small car to use to get around the area. She has it garaged downtown when she's back in Metropolis. What? She's made enough money that she can do that sort of thing even at the tender age of eighteen.
    But either way, roadside told her they might be ninety minutes before they can reach her. It's not like she's worried she'll get mugged. That would actually be kind of fun. But she doesn't really want to sit there and wait for so long.
    So the ubiquitous Chevy Impala manages to roll along the road without making any sound. Well, aside from the tires on the street. But she stands in the open doorway, pushing the car with her legs and one hand while steering with her other.
    Now, this might be weird for anyone who doesn't know her. But then again, a lot of folks like to think they know her from her Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Cover. What? Sometimes celebs push cars into the driveway of your garage. That's what is happening here.
    "Hello?" she calls out as she lets the car with the dead engine stop out front. What? She doesn't know how to fix a car. And this was the first garage she saw in her path.

Casey Jones has posed:
"I see, it's always about a girl, my whole life is about one girl, now.....never about girls till her, she yeah I getcha bro, I getcha." Casey nods slowly, his tongue licking along his lips, as he reaches over for a slice now, the plants watered in that apartment, so many to give him more Oxygen it makes ya bigger, stronger he read it online. Gots to be true right, internet never lies; it's a place of truths and tricks."This girl knows ya likes her, and shit?"

Casey is speaking his eyes watching the street, so many cars to fix later. Since he was open, that sign has been reading closed for three months, of him doing his hero thing, but that was on the back burner; mask is not even in his home. It was elsewhere, his bag of tools, there too. He was going to try and be a man for a bit, he promised, and well, don't break a promise to a stubborn hottie, it's a rule it was on the internet.

The word hottie summoning another one it seems, as that car dies with a frown, as he Casey watches it."Shit, got to work it seems, okay put a pin in this, we ain't done gotcha coat or you bailing Don Don?"

With that Casey, grabs a water from the fridge, downs half of it, as he looks around grabbing his tools strapping them back on, as he runs downstairs, got to beat her before she is looking up, no turtle for his visitor, no that would suck the big one Casey, no fucking up today!

Donatello has posed:
    Donatello's brow rises as he tosses the crust from his pizza into his mouth. He nods along with Casey's summation of the Jones-O'Neil experiment, chewing the crust thoughtfully. "Yeah," the turtle agrees, his voice muffled from the food. "I know, Casey. April. But, it's a little different from you and April." The turtle pauses a moment. Oh yeah, it's very different.

    But there's the jingle. When Heather's car is pushed across the air hose running in front of the garage, it causes a bell inside to announce her presence. Up in the confines of the apartment, Donatello is not worried -- he can't be seen, yet. Donnie stands and walks towards the apartment's door, plucking off another slice of pizza as he passes the box. He takes a bite from the end and presses his face against the glass window of the door that overlooks the garage.

    "Casey!" he calls over. "A girl!" An oddly familiar one, actually.

    Donatello recoils back a touch before he might be seen. As Casey moves to head downstairs, Donnie squints his eyes and tries his best to make sense of Casey's words. The man has a way with them, at times. He speaks fluent Michelangelo, but has only recently started to learn the speech patterns belonging to Casey Jones. For now, Donnie watches from above, his eyes peeking out to see what happens down in the garage. The turtle softly flings his pizza slice back into the box and takes a breath, trying to summon a memory. How does he recognize this person?

Heather Danielson has posed:
    Out there on the parking lot, Heather waits patiently. She understands that things get complicated, and people can be busy at times. She also isn't the sort to go wandering into a place without permission... I mean unless she had to in order to rescue a dude in distress.
    But she puts a smile on her face and steps out from the confines of that open door.. shutting it gently before lifting a hand to move a stray lock of hair that's escaped the ponytail she tied it back in before starting to push the car.
    For someone who pushed a car a mile and a half by herself, she certainly doesn't really appear winded.
    But either way, she turns and leans on the fender of the car while she waits, and drums fingertips on that fender to either side of her hips... hips that are moving a bit to the beat of music in her head.

Casey Jones has posed:
Casey is leaping down, spinning on his heel running for the door, as he swings it open with his brute force, that metal door rattles and clinks open. As he runs out to greet the girl, with a smile on his face, his long hair in front of his handsome face as he brushes it back out of the way, his pale brown eyes, his face is bruised a bit, nose is a little crooked, from a hockey but that kind of ragged I like to beat people with a hockey stick or bat look."Hey, welcome to my shop. Whatcha got there, and whatcha got going on withs it?" The voice is friendly, as Casey walks over to the car, his eyes moving along it. Don Don Don, come on bro play it cool, o need for troublesome, peeking down the stairs, or whatever dumb shit ya going to do.

Donatello has posed:
    Above the garage, Donatello watches through the crack produced by leaving the door slightly ajar. He squints his eyes, watching Casey's new customer carefully. There's just something so familiar about her. Granted, Heather Danielson is likely familiar to most of the teenage boys in the city, but that's not the case for Donatello. There's something vague and recent about it. Taking a breath, Donnie moves to close the door, resigned to just letting this mental itch remain unscratched. But...

    ...Donatello's eyes trace across the rest of the garage as he steps back to close the door. Through the small opening, growing smaller, Donatello locks on something utterly devastating: his bo staff, his trademarked weapon, just leaning against one of the cars in the bay. It's absolutely, obviously, a bo and not a broomstick or something like that. Donatello's eyes widen! He quickly turns his eyes to face where Heather and Casey are likely to converse. He has to get that bo staff back!

Heather Danielson has posed:
    As Casey comes out, Heather pushes her rump off that fender. Granted, she was recently referred to by an older male friend's wife as... a Mid-Life Crisis with Feet. And that could be accurate if one judged based entirely on appearances.
    Either way, she smiles at Casey, "Hey. It died back there a ways.." she says, waving a hand down the road. "I can do a lot, but I can -not- fix a car. I have -zero- idea what caused that. But I was at least able to get it into neutral and push it here."
    She's perceptive, but not supernaturally so. She hasn't gone inside yet, still out in the sun. "If you can get it working before roadside gets here, I'll pay you double the going rate."

Casey Jones has posed:
"Aint' nothing cancel dat road side, I'm cheapest and best in the city, name is Casey Jones." With that he is moving behind the car, as he shoves it slowly with his right shoulder moving it easily, his bulk in motion. As he pushes the car into the garage, with a little chuckle, as he starts to push it towards a machine, and a jack. As he stops now reaching in to pop the hood, as he hooks it up for a moment, turning on the machine."Let's see whats going on baby, speak to good old Casey, tell me ya secrets and needs."

Donatello has posed:
    For reasons that Donnie and Casey were just about to discuss, Donatello has not had the best track record with following the strict rules of his ninja lifestyle, at least recently. Leonardo seems to be on to the fact that Donnie had been up to something, lately, so it's really unlikely he'd be able to weather the storm associated with having his wooden staff taken by a stranger. Put simply, it is imperative that Donatello recover his weapon!

    Taking a breath, Donnie slooooooowly pushes open the door for Casey's above-garage apartment. His pokes his head out and begins studying the layout. He's been here a few times and knew where everything was, but this would require some effort. Donnie's eyes trace a path that leads out the door, down the stairs, and then behind the scrap-it-for-parts car occupying the bay closest to the apartment staircase. From there, he might be able to quickly roll towards his bo staff and recover it. But, if he failed? Well, he must not fail!

    Donatello begins to move down the staircase, quietly taking each step one by one. He steps lightly and carefully, considering each step to be worthy of his most sincere effort. He descends three steps before stopping on the fourth. Creeaaaakkkk. Donnie's eyes widen. He remains motionless -- any change in how much weight he's putting down would result in the noise again. The turtle's head snaps forward, a sitting duck on that staircase! Has he been seen?

Heather Danielson has posed:
    The irony here is.. the stealth efforts are likely mostly a waste. What with the sounds of the car, Casey, and the garage itself.. a creaking step would really not stand out that much. Also, what does Heather care if The mechanic has folks here? He might have friends over? A family? Kids? A girlfriend?
    But her eyes -do- flicker towards the unexpected sound before she shrugs and goes back to what she was doing. Which is watching Casey work. She has learned through bitter experience lately that it is best to -not- emasculate guys by showing off her abilities. the fact that they manifested on Facebook Live-Stream while doing a photo shoot and being shot four times... doesn't -help- her stay under the radar. There is a reason she doesn't -really- have a superhero costume. She tends to wear whatever she has on at the time. And then goes shopping when that outfit is inevitably destroyed.
    "Well, let's call'em incentive." she says to Casey with a smirk. "They are you clock."

Casey Jones has posed:
"Well, yeah sure whatever game ya wanna play, I guess." Casey shrugs slowly, as he starts to examine, as he shakes his head, it was simple, three new spark plugs, cleaning out the air system, and the car rumbles to life."350." His voice is soft as he lowers it down now, as he looks over at Heather."I take Venmo or Cash or Credit."

His eyes watching outside, up and above, trying to find that damn turtle, Don Don, thirty second,s maybe 3 minutes keep cool bro, almost done.

Donatello has posed:
    Creeeaaaakkkk. Donnie stands there, a sitting duck out in the open, with his arms spread out to distribute his weight evenly. Taking a breath, Donnie bends his knees carefully, which causes that creaky noise to intensify for a moment, before he leaps into the air! The turtle soars over the staircase's railing, head first, and transitions into a roll once he hits the garage floor. The turtle's forward roll brings him right behind the for-scrap vehicle in the first service bay, just like he planned! There'd be no time to celebrate, though.

    Donatello's roll might have brought him behind his planned hiding spot, but that's not where it ends. It seems to continue! WHY?! Donnie's arms reach out to try and stop his movement, but he can't seem to get a good grip on the garage floor. He continues to slide across the garage floor, unable to stop! The mutant turtle picks up a bit of speed and then crashes right into a metal tool cart, sending scewdrivers, wrenches, and all sorts of metal odds-and-ends all over the floor. This would be too loud to ignore. Worse, once the sound of dozens of metal tools hitting the floor dies out, there's a long moment of silence and then the echo of a wooden bo staff hitting the ground. In the middle of the chaos, Donatello lies helplessly on his shell, facing the ceiling.

    A few feet away, a leaky can of axle grease lies in a slick puddle on the garage floor, smugly taking credit for the catastrophe.

Heather Danielson has posed:
    Okay, so a creak is one sound. A crashing of turtle and tool box... less so. It seems that only a few minutes have passed since Casey started working on the car. Heather seems a bit disappointed though, she had hoped to lure out a competitive streak in the mechanic, but instead she gets what appears to be ennui.
    She sighs as her whole plan backfires. But the car gets fixed, and she smirks. "Three Fifty?" she asks. "For twelve minutes of work and three sparkplugs?" A pause before she shrugs, "So be it."
    That said, she reaches into her pocket and fishes out a small wallet. Not even a folding one. She slips a credit card out of a slot in it and holds it out. But that's when the Great Tool Turtle Crash happens, and her card is dropped from her fingertips as she whirls about... habitually placing herself between the disturbance and Casey. "Who's th...." And then she leans to her right, around an obstacle there. "Um..." she says, not really freaking out or anything.
    "Don't look now. But I think your place has turtles." she asides back towards Casey.

Casey Jones has posed:
"You told me to charge ya more, if I bet the damn toy soldiers, coming to pick it up and I did." Casey mutters, annoyed as he shakes his head as he reaches for the card, then crash, boom, slam, fest of fuckery."Dammit." His voice is soft, as he turns slowly, as the card falls, his hand is picking it up, as he types the numbers into it and charging her, as he places the card back into her stunned eyes and confused hand. "That is my nephew's toy, he loves turtles, and stuff, so my aunt got this damn thing from Japan, he left it here." With that, he is walking forward as he is rolling that turtle toy into the back room, trying to do it quickly.

Donatello has posed:
    Stunned. Horrified. Embarrassed. These would be things to describe Donatello, yes, but he couldn't abide being called a toy. Arms swat at Casey Jones and his attempts to move him across the floor. "Oh, knock it off, Casey!" a third voice cries out. It's not Heather's and it's not Casey's. No, it would seem that in Japan, toys can talk. Once clear of the greasy puddle, Donatello struggles against Casey and tries to get up to his feet. "Casey," he begins, annoyed. "It's obvious she's not gonna buy it!"

    "Hello," the turtle sheepishly greets. He's green, yes, and a turtle, yes, but he's also coated in axle grease, which is embarrassing for anyone. Taking a careful step towards his bo staff, Donnie watches Heather carefully. No sudden movements from the turtle. Everything's nice and calm. They might know each other, or at least have seen each other previously, but Donatello seems to get mistaken for his brothers from time to time, so he can't be sure. "That, uh, belongs to me," he explains, pointing one of his bulky fingers at the fallen bo, which has come to a stop just a couple feet from Heather's hiding place behind the obstacle.

    Donatello gives Casey another annoyed glance as he bends down to pick up his weapon.

Heather Danielson has posed:
    Okay, at first.. Casey's comment makes Heather relax just a bit. "Odd." she mutters... still standing in a defensive stance. Which relaxes a bit at his words. "On an unrelated note, I thought haggling over price was a tradition. I hope you didn't..." and then the turtle talks, and she jumps RIGHT back into her defensive position.
    That's when her baby blues follow the Turtle's gesture. Then she snaps back to the hand, and the bulky fingers... more importantly, the fingertips.
    "Huh." she mutters, "You find any free Hot Dogs lately?" she asks. "Those fingers look familiar." she adds as her clenched fists unclench and drops to her sides.

Casey Jones has posed:
"Dammit, we had her fooled, it was fine, and yeah, I charged the card. We can haggle next time. Aint' going to fight about it now, got seafood to make." Casey is pissed off, as his hand picks up a football, throwing it through a window lucky that was open, but not fortunate hitting a passing biker punk in the face, on his cycle. That biker has eight friends with him, as they watch that football, pulling into the shop. This dude, who owned it often sticking up to them, as they tried to cause havoc in the bars, now a reason to beat his ass into the pavement.

They are dismounting coming for the door, as Casey is distracted with Donnie, and Heather but that door is kicked open as they pile into the room, chains, bats, and knives oh my, it's tumble and in a rumble time. They are looking at Casey, and then they see the girl, and then a fucking turtle, confused, but that leads to violence, and the dark side, which may or may not have cookies. They are rushing forward quickly; Casey is reaching to grab his spare bat, ready for the game!

Donatello has posed:
    A wave of recognition appears on Donnie's face. "That's where I recognize you!" he exclaims, suddenly, his eyes widening. "The magic show. Wow, I mean, I know most humans pretty much look the same, but I really thought I recognized you!" Donatello leans down and picks up the bo staff. He reaches his arm back to tuck it into its holder on the back of his shell. "Yeah, I mean, I'm not exactly /proud/ of that, but...I don't know, it's not like I could have just waited in line to buy one." The turtle turns his head towards Casey. "Hey, Casey," he calls over. "You'll never believe this, but...!"

    And then the football goes through the window. And the bikers come through the garage. "Oh boy," he mutters, reaching back to pluck that bo staff off of its spot on his shell and into his hands again. Here we go. Donnie moves to position himself between the bikers and Heather, holding his ground, not knowing precisely who she is and that she could very well protect herself from these guys.

Heather Danielson has posed:
    "Well, I was the one who put it there so you -could- get it. I figured nobody'd be reaching up like that if they had any other choice." offers Heather as her face breaks into a less of a haggling smile, and more of a real teenager amused happy smile.
    And then.. bikers. "Oh wow. Seriously." she mutters. She sounds more annoyed than scared. But then Donnie stands in front of her and she stage-whispers his way. "Hey big guy. I probably should have mentioned this." she adds as she edges up next to him. "I'm on the Titans. You know, the superteam out of Metropolis."
    And that said, she steps up and lifts a hand to catch the chain whipped her way by a biker... giving it a pull with her superhuman strength. I mean she's no Kryptonian. In fact, of all of the super strong Titans, she's the weakest. But ten tons of lifting strength is still ten tons of strength... and she yanks the guy into a clothesline maneuver that leaves him laid out. "Guys. You might have done better simply -asking- for an apology." she mutters as she advances on them.

Casey Jones has posed:
Casey is moving forward, sticking close to Don, as they are coming forward. His hand is holding that bat, as he says quickly."I told April I would not fight; it's okay if they attack me, right?" His voice is soft, to the green warrior next to him, as he swings his bat towards them, protecting the girl."Yeah, got a girl to defend it's okay, and if not,thenn why she love me in the first fucking place."

The leader biker is whipping that chain around his head, as he launches it right towards Don, with a cackle of pleasure."Turtle soap tonight, boys!" With that, the others are surging forward no skill, but they make up for that in pure violent zeal, as things are moving quickly, violence and blood is coming.

Donatello has posed:
    "The Titans?" Donatello repeats, not sounding too convinced of it. "Okay, well, are you in some kind of internship, or... Look out!" As the chain comes swinging around, Donatello raises his bo to intercept the chain, but Heather's fist catches it first! Once she clothelines the biker to the ground, the turtle looks over his shoulder at her and raises his brow. "Okay!" he agrees, convinced of it. "So, you're a Titan!" The turtle takes a couple of steps forward, advancing towards the group of bikers.

    "Guys!" Donnie calls out. "...Fellas... Listen, you /don't/ want to do this. I mean, look at what you're up against..." Time for a role call.

    "I'm a mutant turtle." There's no point hiding it. They came busting into the garage and he was just standing there. A large finger points at Heather.

    "She's a Titan," he shouts.

    Donnie tilts his bo to draw attention to Casey Jones. "And he...he's a lunatic!" Donnie warns. "So, maybe you should all go home so you don't wake up in the hospital!" Donnie glances sideways at Casey. "Or the morgue..." he mutters.

    Donnie's attention snaps back to the bikers, twirling his bo in a tight flourish. Turtle soup? Donnie furrows his brow. "For a group of random bikers, they're taking this awfully well," he muses. Still, the turtle advances forward, but does not strike. He's a fully trained ninja warrior -- these guys have numbers, but that's all.

Heather Danielson has posed:
    "Here..." says Heather as she steps boldly forward. "Let me spell it out for you guys." She reaches for her back pocket and whips out her new model Starkphone, "Tony." she says to the phone. Of course he'd design his version of Siri to have his own name, "Look up the Superhero team.. the Titans and display team member Knockout." she commands it.
    Then she looks at the screen, almost ignoring the guys. "Let me see, rated lifting strength... ten tons. Huh. That's pretty good, right?" She asks as she looks up at the guys.
    Then she looks back down, "Powers include super healing factor. Wow. So you could shoot her and it'd just piss her off, right?" she asks before looking back up. "Oh, and here's a picture.." She adds as she loads that up and holds the phone out for the guys to look at. They can look, knock it out of her hand, attack... whatever. But the picture is of her punching a bag off its support chains.

Casey Jones has posed:
Logic is a powerful tool, and now they are going to be using; the foes are running for the door, fleeing into the daylight, leaving the heroes alone now. Weapons drops, bikes starting and taking off, this was too god damn much; they are not dealing with this superhero shit.

"Good job, no real fighting, I didn't lie to April YES!" Casey pumps his fist as he looks around with a sigh, dropping that bat, with a loud clatter."I'm go home, fix stuff, have fun, Donnie, and I mean yeah. I aint' fighting anymore, I promised and shit. Bye, girl and bye, Donnie." With that, he is heading out of the garage quickly, not a look back, his hands deep in his jeans pockets, moving so quickly towards April's home.

Donatello has posed:
    Well, this is an interesting turn of events. Donatello moves his staff into a vertical position and plants it on the garage floor. He leans his weight against it, amused. "See, Casey?" he calls over. "Sometimes, we don't need to fight." No one will be eating turtle soup or going to the hospital. Except, well, one. Donnie looks down at the garage floor and squats down to check on the guy Heather laid out.

    "Nice one," he admits, glancing up at the Titan. Donnie rises to his feet and begins to drag the guy out of the garage by his foot. "Alright, Casey," Donnie adds. "Don't screw it up! Again." April, he means.

    "Ten tons?" Donatello wonders, reaching back to tuck his bo staff back onto his shell. "Is that it?" He's smirking, not trying to suggest that ten tons truly isn't a massive amount.

Heather Danielson has posed:
    The biggest issue is... for Heather, it's a bit of a sore point. OF all of the Titans... any of the ones with super strength are in the Kryptonian or Amazon level. This means that her strength is barely a blip on their radar. She takes a breath and shakes her head, "It's more of a side effect. I can push until I tear my muscles, and they heal like instantly. Sure, it hurts..." But she shrugs, "But pain has become a part of my life these days." But then she looks over as Casey departs, "He's not all there in the head, is he?" she asks.

Donatello has posed:
    Donatello squints his eyes at the mention of Casey's head and what might be in there. The turtle manages a smile and a shrug. "I think he used to be," he admits. As Heather describes her particular power set, Donatello's brow lowers, then raises, as he works it out in his mind. He seems to have no trouble drawing the right conclusions from all of this. "Well, superpowers have to be pretty exhausting," he offers with his hands held up in a slight shrug.

    Donatello looks around and takes a deep breath. Now that the dust has settled and a fight has been avoided, Casey's garage is a total wreck. Some of the mess was his own doing -- with a nice assist from the axle grease -- but some of it came from the bikers. Presently, Heather's car, supposedly all fixed up and billed for, is blocked in by some errant pieces of the garage door. The turtle sighs and begins walking over to them in an effort to get them out of the way. "I don't even work here!" he complains. "What a jerk."

Heather Danielson has posed:
    "Correction. You don't get -paid- to work here. You obviously -do- work here." suggests Heather with a smirk. "But yes, I need to consume about ten times the calories I used to, just to fuel the metabolism." she admits before turning to reach for a broom to start cleaning up the non-greased part of the garage.