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It's a little known fact, but just outside of Santa's workshop, there exists an ice rink. Regulation NHL sized, it's set up for hockey games in addition to ice skating. It isn't used often these days, but today, at least, one person was making good use of it.

Casey Jones, goalie mask firmly over his face as usual, was skating around the ice, slapping puck after puck into the net with remarkable accuracy. Those who came upon him would hear the rhythmic slapping noises of stick hitting puck long before they actually saw him.

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Whaaat?

Raph had just been passing by a window, perfectly at random and he'd seen movement outside. A hockey rink. And someone playing on it? Someone in a mask.

Naaah, it couldn't be, could it? It was hard to tell at this distance, especially with snow being blown around a bit and catching the light spilling outside through the window. Even if it was someone, it might not be who he thought it was, and even if it was who he thought it was, it might not be his Casey.

The other Raph was not far away, in the lounge area.

"Hey, Big Guy," Raph called out to him. "C'mere and check this out. Either I'm going crazy and imagining someone out there or the person that's out there is crazy for being out there. Which wouldn't surprise me if it's who I think it is."

Edited 2015-06-14 03:13 (UTC)

"Huh?" was Raph's half-distracted reply. He tossed the comic book he was about to start on aside and wandered over to peer through the window. "What're you-Oh no."

He can't quite see through the snow and distance but it might be the same mask, and there wasn't much mistaking the bag of assorted sports equipment. Little Raph must have a Casey of his own, because there's a familiar since of is he seriously out there doing that that Raph knows too well.

"You and I both know that crazy follows the guy we think it is everywhere he goes like a puppy. Could be all of us that's crazy, I dunno. Either way, if it is him, we have a responsibility to go make sure that whackbag doesn't freeze to death."

Even with the myth healing taking off the edge of the cold, it was crazy cold out there, what was he thinking? Before long, the two of them made it outside to the rink.

"Annnd it looks like it's him. Not my version, though," he said. "Too old. My Casey's close to my age."

He cupped his hands at his mouth so the man would hear him over the wind since he was up at the other end of the rink.

"Hey, Jones!" he called out, figuring the man would either answer to the call or come over and tell them they were wrong about who he was. "Shouldn't a hoser like you be wearing a fishbowl, playing like that? You can't even win against yourself!"

Casey had, naturally, taught him lots of hockey insults.

And of course Raph opened with those instead of a friendly "hi."

Casey looked over. And stared. And kept staring. His head turned from one turtle to the other. Neither of them were from his world, of course, but the red masks were a dead giveaway.

"Two of you. I've had nightmares like this. How have you two nutcases not killed each other yet?" He asked, almost incredulously.

Raph went from chuckling at the other Raph's insults to laughing at Casey's...well, no, just at Casey.

"Ain't from my world either. Looks like we found ourselves a stray Jones," he said with a sardonic grin, "let's take him home and get him a collar and leash before he does somethin' stupid, like playin' hockey outside at the North Pole."

"What, ya think it's too cold out here? Feels like it's barely even freezing."

It was, of course, far below that, but Casey hadn't had much of an opportunity to work out that he was far more resistant to the cold than the rest of the myths.

"Oh, I get it. You two must be the wimpier versions of my Raph. S'okay, I'll see about helping you work on that."

Edited 2015-06-17 02:47 (UTC)

Raph just stared at Casey, eyebrow slightly raised, incredulous. Then he turned to the other Raph and said in a stage whisper, "It's almost like he doesn't realize that with there being two of us, we can kick his butt twice as hard."

He gestured to Casey.

"But, you know, it is a Casey Jones and this is basic math we're talking about here..."

And Raph stage-whispered back: "Are you tellin' me there's Caseys out there who don't need to learn everything the hard way? I'll believe that when I see it."

He glanced to Casey as if he couldn't hear them.

"He's just grumpy cause he knows he can't get away with nothin' no more. Ah well, dunno about you but this ain't the first time I'll have to literally knock sense into him."

Edited 2015-06-18 11:33 (UTC)

"Well, if you chuckleheads really want a butt-kicking," Casey said, stepping off the ice and shucking off his skates, "who'm I to say no?"

Skates off, in socks at the North Pole, Casey Jones proceeded to start a fight by yanking a large rubber dodgeball out of his bag and chucking it at the younger Raphael's head.

Edited 2015-06-25 04:41 (UTC)

He dodged it easily, but it produced what was possibly the desired effect, which was Little Raph getting pissed off.

"Hey!" he cried out, annoyed. "That tears it! You brought this little lesson in pain on yourself."

He jerked his head to the left and to the right, cracking his neck, and then dove in.

"Lesson? I teach the class on pain." Casey said, pulling out a broomball stick and trying to clock Little Raph upside the head with it.

The older Raph was not about to be left out of the fight. So while Casey swung for the little guy, Raph came in from the other side with the intent of putting Casey in headlock.

"Not so fast, ya whackbag!"

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