Just about everything seems like it's going to be in some state of dusty and grimy. Donnie's making faces as he tries to shake off the dust on a screwdriver he's found.
"Hm? Let me see," he says, tucking the tool into one of his belt pouches. He sets down his other findings at his feet so he can take the broom in hand for inspection. "Yeah, wouldn't be surprised if this thing snapped on impact but hopefully it'll hold up with a bit of ninpō..."
If it still works here. Donnie hadn't considered that angle. But then Leo's here, and otherwise, it's still inherently their power as well... He draws in a deep breath- and coughs from the lingering dust. It takes him a moment or two before he regains his composure. "Right, let's try that again," he mutters, concentrating as he holds up the broom.
The purple markings on him begin to glow, outlined in vivid neon. It also outlines the sigil on his left shoulder if briefly, also purple that one might suspect it might've previously better matched the other more geometric rectangular forms that stripe his right shoulder and dot his thighs. Doesn't seem Donnie's quite noticed it, a thing made up of angles and curving blade-like shapes.
The glow also encompasses the broom before the shape of that shifts, the handle elongating even as the bristles somehow seem to morph into the overall shape or vanish completely in the process. When the lightshow fades, the turtle holds a perfectly serviceable bō in hand, complete with a wrapped grip.
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"Hm? Let me see," he says, tucking the tool into one of his belt pouches. He sets down his other findings at his feet so he can take the broom in hand for inspection. "Yeah, wouldn't be surprised if this thing snapped on impact but hopefully it'll hold up with a bit of ninpō..."
If it still works here. Donnie hadn't considered that angle. But then Leo's here, and otherwise, it's still inherently their power as well... He draws in a deep breath- and coughs from the lingering dust. It takes him a moment or two before he regains his composure. "Right, let's try that again," he mutters, concentrating as he holds up the broom.
The purple markings on him begin to glow, outlined in vivid neon. It also outlines the sigil on his left shoulder if briefly, also purple that one might suspect it might've previously better matched the other more geometric rectangular forms that stripe his right shoulder and dot his thighs. Doesn't seem Donnie's quite noticed it, a thing made up of angles and curving blade-like shapes.
The glow also encompasses the broom before the shape of that shifts, the handle elongating even as the bristles somehow seem to morph into the overall shape or vanish completely in the process. When the lightshow fades, the turtle holds a perfectly serviceable bō in hand, complete with a wrapped grip.