I only had three requirements when designing future Raph. Spikes, scars, and the biggest chasm possible. He's a simple boy with simple needs. No flash. But looking at how spikey alligator snapping turtles get in adulthood I figured he could do with plenty more. (I will update the past images of him... eventually haha).
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MASTER POST
Also, it is likely that Leo and Mikey change out Donnie's photo every couple of weeks to different, ridiculous kodak photos of him. He didn't pose for photos often in later years so they don't have many good ones of him to use.
So happy to finally get this out. Thanks everyone for your patience as I've been juggling a lot of real life events as well as zines. Hopefully we'll finally be getting some answers in the next update. Omega's just being mysterious for dramatic effect I'm sure.
“The Knight? Barbaric creatures, they're a Legion of robots that the Philosopher made to guard the Nexas. They seem to have one primary leader. Which, surprisingly, is not the psychopath; there are also too many of them, and they look too much alike to know which one it is.
They are humongous and powerful. Each of them is located at every single entry to the Nexus; there isn’t a single place for someone to enter or exit without being noticed. One bite of theirs can break any bone. I pity the Battle Nexas warriors who try and run away. Ever since the ‘Mad Dogz’ Came to power, does kind of people started to dwindle until none were left…
…
You speak of the spirits that can be seen along the halls of the Nexas? Yes, it is strange that they look like the Knights… Maybe the Philosopher made them that way to keep it efficient. As the spirits are more like servants than anything.
But there is that one spirit that is unlike the others, that one wears a blood-red poncho, with gloves and boots as if it were cold. The clothing has a symbol on it… It seems to be the symbol of the ‘Mad Dogz’. This spirit doesn’t react to anyone but the Tyrants; maybe it can only see them, or it simply ignores everyone else.
That spirit can control the ‘Knights’, making them move as it pleases. Though, all it seems to do is play around, fitting of its child-like body. But don’t be deceived by the welcoming look. You can never trust it, you can never trust them.
Hello, finally finished Raph, he took like the whole day! I still need to figure out how to color.
Anyway, Donnie and Mikey are up next, and since I haven't even thought of their looks yet, just the names (which, One can be seen on the info above). It might take a while...
Again, if anyone has questions about my au, feel free to ask, mostly because I just want to spout out my lore and draw about my au more and more... to anyone that wants to lishten:3
So, I hope you like the drawing, and see you all soon!
I also got my inspo for Robo Raph from the Cass Apocalyptic au
Yo, imagine if in the bad future Leo’s Raph arm wasn’t his original arm prosthetic but he broke the original after Donnie had died and they didn’t have enough supplies to make a new one or attempt to repair the old one so they had to dig out Raph’s robot body from the darkest corner of the lab so they could repurpose its arm
The transcript whirred into life. Then came Donnie's voice: "This is a test to determine whether or not you have consciousness. How are you?"
Across him, the cyborg's eyes shunted into green.
"All things considered— "and Donnie choked, "—my systems are functioning well, Interrogator. This morning I watched a half-moon materialize in the sky and surmised summer is arriving. Definition: a season perfect for cannonballing in the emergency aquifer."
Donnie re-arranged his expression behind his writing tablet. "Yes—yes, absolutely. You, ah, enjoy water?"
"The sewer waters are dark and deep. One must beware of getting lost in its depths."
"Coming from personal experience, I presume?"
"My data registers an unfortunate incident with my brothers at age eleven. I slipped down a drain. The amount of strength required to lift a mutant snapping turtle of 155 pounds will depend on various factors such as muscle mass, prior training, and fitness—however, spunk and delusion may offset such conditions. "
Donnie focused on keeping his notes clean. "You speak of your brothers. How do you feel about them?"
"The relationship the eldest son may have with their siblings can vary depending on culture and family dynamic. Here are some ways an eldest sibling can cherish their younger siblings—" the wires above the borg swayed as he lifted a bionic finger. "One: Show affection regularly. Two: Put their needs first. Three: Love them always, as you love your own limb."
Without meaning to—because it was windmilling out of him, because the borg had Raph's snaggletooth and none of his warm eyes—Donnie scoffed, off-script. "Tall order, wouldn't you say?"
"Historically, eldest sons may attempt to be severed from their family of origin at least once, but there is no forgetting a brother. There is technology stored in the blood, much like memories."
"And what do you remember?"
Glassy eyes flickered, software sifting through layers of code. "My library is extensive. In each one, I have performed my duty. For instance: when your youngest teethes on your shell you must practice patience instead of squashing him like a bug. When your smartest denies himself adequate bedrest, or when his twin takes your place in the hierarchy of things, you must stick by him every step of the way, instead of running headlong into the woods, to be free and survive off of mushrooms, berries; the kindness of strangers." Shoulder pads rode up and down. "A foolish wish. A mutant's mortality rate plummets to 28.7% after exposure to humans."
Donnie's pen slowed. "Yeah? And who taught you that?"
"My memory stretches back 23 years. First entry: being held by the mutant named Splinter. My father was a flawed man, but he named me Raphael, after one of God's seven archangels. Definition: divine healing. It can take days to heal from a pulled muscle. Weeks to heal from a broken bone. There is no returning from a photon blast to the shell, and reversing alien terraformation contains multiple unknown variables. But my data is hopeful. I have been conditioned for hope, Interrogator. For instance, when you fail at Mario Kart, you can always try again—a concept applicable to any activity. Like doing burpees. Or making pizza dough."
"Pizza dough," Donnie repeated, chest tightening. "Tell me what you know."
"Certainly. To make delicious pizza dough, combine 1 teaspoon of active dry yeast, 1 teaspoon of sugar, 1 teaspoon of salt, 2 1/2 cups of all-purpose flour, and 1 1/4 cups of warm water in a large mixing bowl. Knead the dough until smooth, place it in a lightly oiled bowl, cover, then let it rise for about an hour. Or—" the borg paused. "You can always steal dough from your local RMP joint and claim it as your own."
A laugh burst out of Donnie, bright and bewildered. "Do you even know who you sound like right now?"
"Michelangelo Hamato, better known as Mikey, Mikester, or Master Michelangelo by new recruits of the resistance. Status: currently sleep-floating approximately five feet off the ground in the communal pantry."
"Okay. And—" Donnie's chest was rising and falling, like he'd run a terrible distance, and maybe this time he wasn't too late, "do you know who I am?"
“Softshell turtles lack the horny, protective scutes commonly associated with its kind. There are 30 species and 14 genera of softshells, some of which are critically endangered, including the Yangtze giant softshell turtle (Rafetus swinhoei), and the Southeast Asian narrow-headed softshell turtle (Chitra chitra). It is a miracle you are here, Donatello, and that you have resisted this long. When you were 7, I tended to your fevers. You were so small. You liked soft rubs on your shell. At sixteen you fathered a carnivorous plant, and when it died, you brought it back to life. For you, death is not the end, but a stopover. A pathway. You fancy yourself a great facilitator of life. After all, a seed planted in an urn becomes a tree. I was once alive, now am part man, part machine. What is the difference here? You scraped me together from felled buildings and forgotten sites where people once danced, then melted them into screws. You upcycled my code. Raked life into my voicebox.”
“Yes, I'm rethinking that part of your design now,” Donnie said hoarsely. “Shell, you talk a lot."
The sound RoboRaph made must've been a laugh. But the sound was stilted, thrown in a synthesizer then strained clean of the pulp. Donnie shut his eyes and let it wash over him anyway.
Here's me establishing that I make really angsty things too, so I suppose cw for angst
ROTTMNT movie spoilers for the context btw!
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My idea here is that when Donnie made robo raph originally he made him look like younger Raph accidentally because he missed the times they had as kids. Also, after Donnie made him he finally realized what he actually did.
