[The rat man walks into the lair, looking around in confusion. He stops, his tail swishing nervously]
He sighs in relief as he makes it back home, still unsure as to what just happened. That relief quickly vanishes though as he realizes this is not his home. But who else would be living down here in the sewers of New York City?
He cautiously moves his way deeper into the lair, noting the differences. His ears twitch as he hears his shows on in the background.
Sticking to the shadows, he sneaks his way to the source of the noise, staring in shock and confusion as he sees a more ragged and disheveled version of himself sitting in the armchair watching the screen.
"What the heck?"
He jumps, reorienting himself into a defensive position on the armchair. He stares through wide eyes at the figure in his house. The mysterious, handsome rat man in his house. Definitely not noticeably handsomer or better than himself, of course.
He relaxes, huffing slightly.
"Oh. You must be Beautyberry's Splinter."
He sighs, sinking back into his armchair.
He stares at the other rat.
"What do you mean by that?"
He tilts his head slightly.
"Are you... me? Why do you say that I am Beautyberry's Splinter? Have you not found him, yet?"
His tail swishes nervously at the idea. This other guy looks terrible.
He shakes his head a little, muting his shows with an annoyed twitch of his nose.
"I named my son Donatello, and he was not raised by the Foot Clan."
He responds, a bit of cool venom in his voice. The tip of his tail twitches. It's not fair for him to judge his other self. It's not like he's the perfect father, either. Seeing his confident Purple like that, though... it reminded him of his own sons somewhere down the hall. The ones that he has worried himself sick over for over a month, but that he cannot bring himself to face.
His eyes widen slightly at the cold remark. It strikes true to his own regrets. He stiffens, narrowing his eyes at the sad reflection in the chair.
"Oh, well, I am sooo happy for you."
His ear twitches. He clenches his teeth.
"You do not need to rub it in."
He listens to the other silently for a moment. He is right. He sighs.
"Yes, that was uncalled for. I am sorry."
He turns to face this stranger that shares his face.
"I know I would be devastated to lose my boys. It is not your fault, whatever that horrible clan did to Purple."
He huffs, his tail twitching.
"Though, I do hope you gave them hell for it."
He stands there for a moment. Especially if this guy raised his turtle sons, he can understand why he may get protective of Beautyberry. Eventually he huffs, looking away.
"Where is Beautyberry?"
"Out the main entrance, across the big room. The '2012 Lair', according to the plaque."
He explains, looking away as well. Maybe... he should go see his sons as well.
"His brothers should be there as well. I also just sent both of our Aprils over there."
He hums, glancing back at the other version of him.
"Alright."
He nods, sighing and moving to leave.
His brow furrows slightly.
"Beautyberry mentioned fighting the Shredder. How old is he, exactly?"
He stops, raising a brow quizzically.
"Yes, we were fighting against the Shredder."
His tail twitches lightly.
"Beautyberry is 14. Why?"
He hums, tail swishing.
"Just curious."
He stares forward at the muted TV, ear twitching slightly.
He should probably warn them about what might happen in the future, but he isn't sure if now is the best time. Besides, if they are here, they will likely have bigger fish to fry.
His brow furrows in confusion, and he shakes his head slightly with a huff. He walks the rest of the way out of the room, heading towards the main entrance.