The Enemy of My Friend... Apparently Interrupts My Shopping

[semper_cogitans]

Who: semper_cogitans, ch_rell47, and ninjacane
What: A shopping trip gone spectacularly wrong.
When: Backdated to the 13th of July, because this mun is slow.
Where: At the village plaza, just outside the item shop.
Summary: Robert's complete lack of ability to tell when people might actually be dangerous works against him when he encounters a certain alien whilst trying to shop. One particular rat sensei has to get involved.
Rating: Probably somewhere around PG, unless anybody starts swearing in confusion and terror or Robert here gets gutted.


As much as Robert would've liked to just stay inside forever after the events of the past month or so, basic logic informed him that he'd need to replenish his supply of groceries sometime.

So, against his own natural proclivities to just hole up in his apartment, he'd dragged himself outside, familiar white bag in tow, and had managed to procure something in the way of foodstuffs and the like. Nothing too out of the ordinary, for him. Save for spending his usual obnoxiously-long-period-of-time studying each article for imperfections, he was basically like anybody else there. Perhaps he was more tired than he thought of just sitting inside working, but what with everything going on in his life, it was difficult to focus...

... Of course, being distracted and unfocused tends to lead to stupid mistakes.

Clutching the paraphernalia he'd gathered to his chest, Robert steps out of the item shop, gaze everywhere but where it should be - namely, on the person he ends up walking almost right into.

Comments

[semper_cogitans]

"He most certainly is... though I s-suppose for more reasons than one," Robert says, almost offhandedly. Don's species rarely comes up as a point of contention for anything, though, and this is probably the only thing that's stopping him from being murdered right now.

[ninjacane]

Splinter knew where this was heading, although not with complete certainty. His fur stood up as he gripped his cane tighter. Robert was talking about Donatello, and it was only likely a matter of time before he said Donatello's name.

But there was also a chance that he may not, and Splinter could not risk revealing himself when the conversation still had a chance to steer away from this. If only he could warn Robert, or somehow steer the conversation away himself, he would.

... Perhaps a distraction of some nature. Something to distract Robert away from the topic, as Shredder was likely marginally interested anyways. A noise, as he could not afford to be seen. A noise generated by something not obviously touched by the hands of another.

He glanced around at the ground around him. Rocks, sticks, dirt, bugs. Dirt would serve to do nothing, rocks were something obvious when thrown, and bugs... only really tormented Raphael.

Which left sticks. Splinter paused for a moment, looking around for a decently sized one. He picked up one about a half inch in diameter and about seven inches long. It was dry and wiping it off on his clothes removed most of the dirt so that it would not arise suspicion in Shredder. Something conceivable to have gotten stuck in a gutter.

Of course, there was a chance that Shredder would be suspicious, but he could not look for the true origin of the stick without making even Robert wonder what he was doing. There was little chance that Robert would think it was anything but a dead stick falling to the ground.

He gaged the slope of the roof, using his memory and ears to try to best approximate where Robert was. Silently apologizing to the man for what he was about ready to do, Splinter threw the stick.

[semper_cogitans]

Really, a stick is the absolute last thing Robert would either associate with being physically aimed by another person or being used as a projectile against him at this exact moment. He's so engrossed in his conversation with the Shredder that he completely doesn't expect the random piece of wooden detritus to fall.

And fall it does, in a relatively gracefully-aimed arc. It's too fast for Robert to even anticipate it, and his dulled reflexes only register it the moment it enters his peripheral vision - which, of course, is exactly when the stick strikes him across the cheek, leaving a mark and a smudge of dirt to boot. He makes a little strangled yelp of surprise and pain, stumbling back slightly; the loss of balance causes him to drop that precisely-balanced bag, meaning those well-abused groceries land on and around his feet.

He doesn't even bother to make a noise of pain for that. He just... stands there silently, wiping at the smudge on his cheek with disgust and humiliation.

"... That... that was u-unexpected."

Damnit, why can't he order groceries online here...?