Raphael Hamato (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
othersdestructive) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ya_assemble2014-11-28 01:29 am
othersdestructive) wrote in ya_assemble2014-11-28 01:29 am
Entry tags:
[LN] Beat of His Own Drums [Open]
As soon as the yeti finished that beautiful, beautiful brand spankin' new not liberated from the trash drum kit, Raph had swooped in and commandeered it, dragging it off piece by piece to the room he'd also commandeered as his own when he'd first arrived.
"You can make another one," he'd shot back at the pouting yeti, who'd sighed and gotten back to work as he stole the cymbals.
It was a Pearl Export kit. Not exactly top of the line but solid, had a good sound just like the real thing (talk about trademark infringement, right?), and most importantly of all, it was new. Like so few of Raph's belongings were. In fact, the only belongings he had that weren't, ahem, "recycled," were things April and Casey had given him. Everything else was junk scavenged from the surface by Splinter - and then by him and his brothers when they started going up.
New drums. Actual new drums. And a new cd player. And new cds. He'd managed to grab a few new things, actual new things. For the first time in his life, he was playing on a new drum kit.
All the "you have to save all of existence" stuff aside, this place rocked.
That was why he was in his room banging away, sometimes playing very recognizable drums beats by themselves, sometimes in time with the original music. If it sounded like he was crazy enthusiastic about what he was doing, it was because he was.
He'd left his door open out of a general lack of consideration for others, but the noise didn't add much more noise pollution to the busy workshop than there was - and at least he was good. Very good, in fact.
"You can make another one," he'd shot back at the pouting yeti, who'd sighed and gotten back to work as he stole the cymbals.
It was a Pearl Export kit. Not exactly top of the line but solid, had a good sound just like the real thing (talk about trademark infringement, right?), and most importantly of all, it was new. Like so few of Raph's belongings were. In fact, the only belongings he had that weren't, ahem, "recycled," were things April and Casey had given him. Everything else was junk scavenged from the surface by Splinter - and then by him and his brothers when they started going up.
New drums. Actual new drums. And a new cd player. And new cds. He'd managed to grab a few new things, actual new things. For the first time in his life, he was playing on a new drum kit.
All the "you have to save all of existence" stuff aside, this place rocked.
That was why he was in his room banging away, sometimes playing very recognizable drums beats by themselves, sometimes in time with the original music. If it sounded like he was crazy enthusiastic about what he was doing, it was because he was.
He'd left his door open out of a general lack of consideration for others, but the noise didn't add much more noise pollution to the busy workshop than there was - and at least he was good. Very good, in fact.
no subject
If she couldn't they'd have to figure out a way around it. Maybe pen and paper? Even if it was in another language, the myth magic meant it all translated.
no subject
It hasn't even been much more than 48 hours since it happened.
Still, though the two of them may not know it, the myth magic had probably helped Sandy's little sand shapes be more understandable to his fellow myths and guardians. Maybe it would help give layers of meaning to those little musical flourishes that seem to accompany Red's desires to communicate.
She stepped slightly into the room, glancing around for something she could write on, then gestured to Raph like she was writing. The little chiming that went along with it seemed to ask if he could help her out.
no subject
The little musical tones were probably magical and magically understanding languages seemed a byproduct of the myth thing. Still, he knew it'd be easier to communicate if she could just write things down.
He drug through a pile of junk until he found a pen and notebook, carefully flipped past some of the pages (which had doodles and such on them that he wasn't keen on anyone else seeing) and handed it over to her, sitting across from her so she could easily turn the notebook so he could see.
no subject
"Hi, my name's Red."
she turns the notebook around so he can read it.
no subject
So how did this small talk thing work, anyway? His only human friends he'd met under strange circumstances and he and Nico was just strangely easy to talk to. And some of the others, like Mabel, mostly just talked at him.
He opted to talk about weaponry. You could never go wrong with talking about weapons. Weapons were cool.
"So, your sword. What is it? How does it work? That thing can obviously do some damage."