Author's Note:
Hello everyone,
This is kinda my first fanfic, which I wrote a while back. Kindly refrain from flaming and hope you enjoy what I have to proffer.
I based this story on several true events that happened in my life,as well as several people around me. My own OC,who will be introduced later on, is in fact a blend of a few close friends of mine. I had a great deal of fun writing this story; in fact I'm already into my 20th chapter as I post this first one. Therefore, I apologize in advance if I am unable to add any suggestions into the story.
Comments and reviews are welcome, though I must again apologize if I am unable to add any suggestions into the story.
Thanks, and happy reading!
I do not own TMNT, nor any of the songs,musicians,games or any related items or real-world plot devices used in this fan fiction. Only my OCs are my own.
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Chapter 1: The Fateful Night
Raphael searched his surroundings. All was quiet,save for an ambulance siren in the distance, speeding off to wherever it was needed,and the typical sounds of new York city's night life. Raphael's senses,honed by years of training under Master Splinter, could pick up the slightest of stimuli,from a pin dropping in a quiet room,to a bullet whizzing in the heat of battle.
Satisfied that he was alone,he sighed and leaped down from his perch,a gargoyle in the middle of midtown Manhattan. 'I need ta blow off some steam',he thought to himself.
Landing with precision and without delay, he sprinted off across the roofs of the building, without as much as a patter as he zigzagged across the various buildings. He honestly couldn't remember the various street addresses and the names of the buildings he had just crossed;Donnie was the best versed in that aspect; but he knew precisely where he was going.
A short 10 minutes later, he had arrived at his destination:the old abandoned steel mill. Checking once more that he was not followed,Raphael then entered the old building through the side entrance.
Panting slightly from the run,he made his way deeper into the mill,his eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness.
Locating the generator,he fired it up,and lights came on around him,throwing into view the makeshift home he had built for himself.
The large room, located deep inside the old building, was Raphael's hidden getaway,a place he could retreat to avoid his brothers and Master Splinter:his 'secret sanctuary',as Casey had put it. Jones was the only other soul who knew about this place,which was a given,considering he was with raphael when he discovered the mill almost a year ago, and had helped Raph refurbish the old building to suit his needs.
In one corner was a large bed, a full body mirror, a small fridge that casey had found and cleaned while dumpster-diving, and a side table that held assorted books and comics that Raph would occasionally peruse when he was bored. On the other side however, was a set of free weights and a workout bench, punching bags, and even a small makeshift weapons wall.
Hanging his two sai on the wall,Raphael took a moment to admire his rather impressive collection of weaponry. It rivaled the weapons wall back in the sewer lair. There was a decent selection of swords,axes,staves and knives, little blades like kunai and karambit,bigger ones from tanto to kukri and even a Filipino machete, called a sundang. There were even a couple of assault rifles and pistols,though he knew he was unlikely to ever resort to using them. He had taken them off some foot soldiers who came out worse in an encounter with the hothead. A number of yantok,or rattan sticks used in eskrima, hung from the wall as well.
Raphael, having regained his breath, approached the punching bags and,with blinding speed,delivered a powerful jab. The strike connected with a loud smack,and Raph,feeling his anger ebb away just a little, launched a tirade of punches and kicks into the large bag. With each impact, he felt himself growing calmer.
Finally calm enough to concentrate, he grabbed a couple of yantok, took a deep breath, and began the complex training exercise.
Master Splinter had taught them well, but if their encounters with the Shredder were any indication, Raphael and his brothers still had a lot to learn. Raphael had chanced upon a book about Filipino martial arts, and,his interest piqued, began to read and learn about them. He found the techniques to be efficient and deadly,and attempted to apply them to his own already formidable ninjutsu skills. He had since become rather proficient in its use,though he did not overtly use them in front of his brothers and master.
Completing his first set of exercise, he swapped the sticks for the sundang ,whirring the blade around him. The precise cuts and stabs were quick and effective, wasting little energy.
Quickly running himself through the exercise, Raphael finished and elected to train with the ninjato next. While not as elegant or skilled with the twin swords as Leonardo, Raphael was nonetheless competent with their use. The Hamato brothers each had their own specialisations,weapons they were most attuned to.
Raphael trained and transitioned between every weapon on his wall,before finally,exhausted from the severe practice routine, setting each weapon back in its place and walking to the bed. He stared at the mirror,which he kept angled towards the door. Looking at his tired frame,Raphael examined his body,wondering where all the years had gone.
Raph was 5'11",and weighed 200 pounds. He was the largest of his brothers, and second tallest after Donatello,making him roughly as tall as Leonardo. His scaly skin,covering his thick muscles,was heavily pitted and scarred from years of fighting. A fragment of shell, shaped like a lightning bolt was missing from the upper left side of his plastron.
With a large sigh,he tore his gaze from the mirror and lay in bed. Raphael connected his T-phone to the power socket as well as the sound system. Selecting a Playlist,he rested his head back against the pillow, as Linkin Park's 'I'll be gone' began blaring from the speakers.
Raph began thinking about his earlier fight with Leonardo. It was becoming a bit of a routine for them: Leo would call him out for something he did or didn't do, Raph would lose his temper, someone(usually Master Splinter) would break up the fight,and Raph would run off to his hidey hole.
It had become so commonplace that now,no one attempted to call him on his T-phone anymore.
Raph's mind began to drift,as the cold,numbing fingers of sleep claimed him for the night...
Hope you enjoyed that. This chapter is focused more on Raphael for now,but I'll be bringing in the other characters soon.
