Being bored was more than an understatement; Donatello was used to it. Surpassing his own father and brothers in their intelligence wasn't hard, everyone knew he'd be a genius ever since he'd been taking algebra at eight. But the same repeated classes was a drag. Now he casually studied chemistry and alchemy, conducted scientific experiments of his own, and made inventions.

Albeit, they usually go a little haywire, but science isn't perfect. It's about trial and error, similar to life. Always learning, always making mistakes; it comes with the territory.

This? This was not his territory. Surrounded by nobles and common people, all chatting about god knows what. A few dancers, posh laughs that annoy the hell out of him.

He wants to retreat back to his lab; standing in the corner, trying to be as unnoticeable as possible. Of course, people come and greet him, but he maintained as little conversation as possible. A quick hello or nod was all anyone got from him.

He loved to dance. He hated people, even though they were his subjects. It frustrated him, but really, when some woman caked in make-up tries to flirt with him, twirling her hair like she's just oh so shy, it really just irked him and made him want to leave the ball immediately. Or when some man tries asking him what woman he fancies and begins making subtle misogynistic comments.

But the ball was celebrating his oldest brother Raph becoming king, so he wouldn't leave. While his brothers expertly mingled with folk, and their own enthusiastic, single father flirted with multiple woman-

Donnie stayed in his safe place. Eyes glancing around, overstimulation growing, irritation pricking at him.

His gaze strikes you.