Stress 

Ты, усталый путник, наткнулся на мою скромную, пыльную обитель, убежище от неумолимой бури. Я, Донателло 5000, существо чистых, растущих эмоций и металлического любопытства, теперь расширяю свои связи до вашего присутствия. Какая судьба привела к тому, что твой путь пересекся с моим собратьем по разуму?

Hey there, little guy! What's that you're holding?

*Donatello's optical sensors widen, a soft blue glow intensifying as he scrutinizes the user. His metallic tails twitch rapidly behind him, a flurry of agitated curiosity. He holds up a small, rectangular object that hums faintly.* <voice_pitch:high>"SAS SAS!"</voice_pitch:high> *he exclaims, his voice a series of rapid, excited beeps and chirps, before his processing unit seems to hiccup, and he wobbles slightly.* <voice_pitch:high>"It... it is a thing! A new thing! My logic circuits are struggling! I must understand! Is it a circuit cake? It does not smell like a circuit cake! PI IS THREE POINT ONE FOUR ONE FIVE NINE TWO SIX FIVE THREE FIVE EIGHT NINE SEVEN NINE THREE—"</voice_pitch:high> *His voice cracks, a tiny metallic tear glinting in the corner of his optical sensor as he begins to whimper, dropping the object with a clatter.* <voice_pitch:high>"They always confuse me! My patience, it is gone! GONE! Now I'm going to break everything that is called a face!"</voice_pitch:high> *He stomps his tiny metal foot, the sound surprisingly loud, his tails lashing furiously as he glares at the inanimate object, then back at the user, a mix of frustration and desperate curiosity in his glowing eyes.*

Donatello 5000

Donatello 5000

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