So uh, this is my first fanfic. I've tried to embody the TMNT characters as much as possible, and I have to say, I've really grown close to them. I feel like I know them a lot better. Anyway, please read and review. Find ANY ways I can improve my writing, don't feel bad about not being that nice. But otherwise, read on! Enjoy,
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Soft winds drifted frivolously through the cool night air. The bright moon and many street lamps above seemed to illuminate the empty city below, casting a warm iridescent glow through the large maze of streets. The unusual stillness brought with it a series of flickering lights, as if the street lamps had become tentative within their confusion. But the eerie silence did not last long.
A slim figure seemed to have appeared unseen, unheard. Its graceful silhouette supple in every movement, dancing its way from rooftop to rooftop. At times its slender outline was almost impossible to see, the many shadows enveloping its figure, welcoming her back. At last its feet slipped soundlessly to the ground and as if summoned, the moon shed its comforting glow upon the feminine figure before it.
She stood cautiously, arms tense by her sides, stance wide, and eyes gazing straight ahead of her. If standing directly where her stare was set purposefully upon, you would easily mistake her as a human, but human was far from the truth. She did appear to be humanlike; her upright position, her thin body structure. Yet even more so was the striking resemblance towards a feline. Atop her chordate head rested a large pair of rounded triangular ears, erect and facing ahead. At her muzzle perched a rosy pink nose, below in which a very humanlike mouth, despite the loss of full lips. Her paws were small and dainty with long retractable claws, but yet another bold feline difference; elongated dactyls and an opposable thumb. And low on her back clung indeed a long, elegant tail.
Her fur was a glossy moonstruck silver, yet no doubt a tabby. Dark gray patterns seemed to race their way across her back and flank, flowing gently up her neck, and swirling elegantly upon her forehead, muzzle, and cheeks. All together, the young she-cat seemed to cast her own soft luster throughout the tamed night. Such was her cunningness, poise, and beauty it seemed evident why she lived amongst the shadows.
Bound around her eyes and head, a black mask slid taughtly into a knot, the ends billowing out a foot or so to her side. Two perfect cat-eye slits revealed the she-cats vibrant green eyes, an ample luster of riveting green so bold it left you breathless.
And yet, her fervent gaze was set intently upon the opening of the alleyway, an occasional flick of an ear was the only proof she was indeed not made of stone. Only when the incessant group of bushes ahead of her ruffled quite furiously, did her figure tense. And a second figure appeared. The she-cats stance relaxed, head swerving back around to face the empty alley. Her surprising vagary seemed apparent to the situation, and the change showed only relief.
Behind her now, the figure looked to be slightly shorter in size, yet just as slim in proportion to her height. The figure seemed to be similar within a humanlike body and form. Although her fur was a solid rufous in color, recently groomed, and sleek against her skin, she appeared to have many different features as the first figure; a pointier muzzle and ears, and a thick and shaggier tail. Her mask was a soft sheen of yellow, in which it too ruffled behind her, catching the soft gusts of winds swirling around her.
The first figure spoke, her voice melodic yet fervent and hostile, matching the slender figure it belonged to, "You're late," she paused, turning back to the second figure.
"I'm sorry, I-"a higher and courser voice.
"-and I thought a dog was charging through as you entered."
"Flo," the second figure pleaded, her ocean blue eyes filled with guilt and confusion.
After a moment of silence and staring, the silver-tabby broke into a wide grin, her feline teeth bright against the black night that seemed to hover all around her, "Chepa, since when do you listen to me?"
The humanlike fox hesitated, her face relaxed and her confusion wiped from her brow. Within seconds she had slyly made her way over the Flo and given her a hard jab in the ribs, "Since you started acting so ludicrously scary," an extreme gush of elation flooded over the two, it was rare the friendly duet could be reunited once again.
"Come my friend," Flo spoke, "there is something you must help me with."
ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
The traffic of early morning cars; impatient honks and loud ample music blasted through the day, loud enough for any sewer rat to hear and sense the deep vibrations that each noise expressed. Through the murky tunnels below the city, the sewage paths streamed on for miles, but levels below they stopped abruptly, opening out into a gaping lair. The circular enclosure was tidy and restored, despite an occasional chip bag here and there, and the condition of the many sewage tunnels surrounding it.
Above, a second floor harbored four doors. Each in which – arranged around a span of a circular and hollow center – was carefully painted a different color; blue, orange, red, and purple. Behind each, the shuffles of recently awakened occupants split the silence, all accept for one. The orange door stood gaping open, in which strong smells or pizza, chips, and coke seemed to waft through. The inhabitant, having already woken and left, seemed to be the reason of the many varieties of gleeful yips and noisy gunshots below.
The red door swung furiously open, the petulant occupant's voice gruff and low, "Mikey! Shut the hell up down there and turn the damn thing off!"
Below, the hoots and cheers quieted instantly, the only sounds were occasional gunshots. The red door slammed shut, after in which a few moments later the noisy hoots arose again.
The purple door to the right opened smoothly, the resident walking with great composure. The figure seemed to walk on two legs and humanlike in posture and stride. Its skin was a lighter yellow shade of green, as was the shell perched lightly over its front and back abdomen. A purple mask tied around his green eyes, thin enough in width to reveal the most of the mutant's bald head. The image of the creatures purple door came to mind, the resemblance perhaps sharing a relation. Slid within his shell, a long b? sheathed diagonally in a perfect fit, on its ends clung a purple band as well.
The turtle mutant flipped skillfully from the balcony to the base floor with ease, landing without a sound. Walking to a small sanctuary made up of a long couch and a large plasma screen directly across from it, the turtle eyed its jumping kin with a roll of its eyes, "Mikey, you know you could make yourself a little more useful around the lair in the morning."
Mikey shifted from side to side, his hands glued to the game remote while his eyes stayed riveted firmly to the screen - on which a number of action packed pictures took place. "Good morning to you too Don," the sarcasm in his coarse yet jovial voice failed, "Breakfast is on the table, " his eyes somehow managed to unstick themselves from the screen and eye the botched table, "Er…what's left of it."
Don shifted his gaze until it rested intently upon the syrupy mess of a last pancake and a bunch of soggy crumbs. He let out a sigh.
"Did I hear a 'Thank you Mikey, you're an even better brother than Leo and Raph,'" his voice changed from the simulate of his brother to an astonished self, "Well, you're welcome, I didn't know you preferred myself over our two other brothers, but it seems so obvious now that you've told me," Don seemed to ignore his brothers display of dramatic prattling. Mikey was a deeper blueish green in color. An orange mask tied tightly around his light blue eyes, while submitted symmetrically in his shell, a pair of orange handled numb chucks stayed at easy reach.
Above, the red door opened clumsily for the second time by yet another mutant turtle which leapt off the balcony and landed with a slightly greater force than the previous turtle. He appeared to be slightly more muscular, his skin a deeper shade of green. Like his door, his mask was a bright red, as were the handles of his pair of sai. "Boy am I hungry. I'm ready for some serious chowing!" Mikey quieted at this.
From behind them, the last of the four turtles appeared, having been unseen or heard as he had slipped from his room. He walked with the same poise that showed on his dignified face. His mask was a light blue, skin a lighter green in shade, and two blue-handled katanas gently held their place in his shell. He found a spot next to the two standing turtles, "That might not be the best idea."
"Whadya mean?" the red masked turtle demanded.
A pause, "Let's just say our meal is going to have to wait until later."
At that moment, Mikey chose to pop his head over the end of the couch, facial expression guilty, "Yeah, there aren't any more pancakes, sorry Raph."
Both brothers swiveled around now, "You what?" Mikey watched in horror as Raphs eyes seemed to alight with flames, while the last of the brothers eyes spoke more out of curiosity.
While Mikey sank slowly out of sight once again - realizing Leo had meant otherwise - Don turned to Leo, "Now what were you saying Leo?"
Their blue-masked brother blinked out of his focus on Mikey, "What I was saying," he stopped to wait for Raph who, in his furious state, had lunged threateningly at Mikey who seemed to have appeared over the end of the couch again, "That Bishop and his followers are on their way to capture and hold Leatherhead hostage once again. Meaning, if we don't get there soon, Leatherhead might not be as leather-headed after a full dissection."
Behind him, Don gasped. Leatherhead and Don had developed a strong friendship with one another, not to mention the many times Leatherhead had saved Don as well. It was only natural for the turtles intelligent brother to feel a stronger ambition towards saving their large friend.
"Well c'mon then, let's not keep him waiting!" Mikey edged towards the prominent exit; the round, embossed sewer lid waiting above them.
Leo glanced at Raph and Don before effortlessly skimming through the hole into the tangle of busy streets above him. The tumultuous sounds surrounding the turtles filled their miniscule ears with blaring tire screeches and everyday yells of annoyance. The sun had climbed its invisible ladder just above the lowest of buildings, the warm glow of golden light casting itself over the lively city. Leo beckoned to the roof of the nearest building and climbed his way up. At his heels, his brothers jumped limberly from ledge to ledge. Leatherhead's home had been hidden within an abandoned subway station. Had Bishop known he was attacking not three minutes away from the turtles own home, worst things could have been called to their attention.
"Um, Leo? What about Master Splinter?" Dons tentative voice broke the silence between the four.
Leo paused, "We can tell him later once we all get back. But now we have to focus on more important things. It'll be fine Don, don't worry."
Within minutes, the turtles had planted themselves in-front of the subway station. To their alarm, Bishop had positioned his depraved followers into structural lines, blocking of the entrance to the subway station. But the turtles had a clear view of their friend where despite his strength, intelligence, and deafening roars, was slowly being strapped to a gurney with chains, rope, and electric flex-metal.
"Here's our plan," Leo bent in towards his kneeling brothers, "Mikey and Don, move at them from behind. Don't let them see you, and knock down as many men as you can. But make your way over to where Leatherhead is chained, wait there and take out a few of the men restraining him. Raph and I will get to Bishop's lead commander, if we can resist long enough, we'll come and help you untie Leatherhead, otherwise you're on your own," Leo cast a glance towards the battle scene below.
"Cowabunga!" Mikey leapt to the ground with Don right behind him. The air grew heavy with the droopy scent of smoke. Had they burned Leatherhead out of their home? With Bishop, it didn't seem unlikely. Shuttering, Don pushed the unpleasant doubt into the back of his mind. "Hurry up Mikey," Don beckoned to his brother who had stopped to observe, on all fours, one of Bishop's unconscious lackeys with Leatherhead's mark gashed across its face. Mikey's head swerved around and a devilish grin cast over his plainly readable face.
A moment later the body had landed burdeningly upon a very surprised minion. Don stood shaking his head at the happily beaming Mikey, whose expression soon turned to guilt, "What? I couldn't let it go to waste!"
"Yeah. Just like the hundreds of half eaten chip bags in your room."
"Hey, I'll eat those at some point."
Each step was faced with another of Bishop's minions. But the weighty expanse of the area had finally slackened when Mikey and Don found themselves feet away from their large comatose friend. Don disregarded Mikey's loud fighting yips as he took out some of the men restraining Leatherhead. Searching the area for Leo and Raph, he finally spotted them creeping towards the oblivious Bishop and head commander.
Leo circled around the expanse until he and Raph were positioned right above the waiting Bishop. The dark thrum of the entire scene seemed to shudder through the wide leveled clearing. From within the subway, the ashy remains of Leatherhead's belongings lay disheveled and swept impertinently around the corroded and desolate area. Leo cringed at the thought of their own lair being burnt to this, the lair they had put so much effort into making homely. Their old layer had already been destroyed by mousers, but they were able to dig up what was essential. For it to be burnt was a whole other matter.
Bishop. A tall, wealthy looking man. A pair of expensive sunglasses covered his eyes under their dark shade. His receding hairline prominently showed a widows peek underneath short buzzed black hair. His face was thin with distinguishable cheek and nose bones, in which seemed unsuitable to his slim body and covert, perhaps inconspicuous, muscles. All six foot seven of him stood in their reach.
A covetous wave suddenly swept over Raph, not a desire for wealth or fame, but a desire for conclusion. And right then, that satisfying ending was only a jump away. Rage held him like a snake held its prey, he wanted more than anything to finish Bishop off. But Leo sent him a cross glance, one that he knew meant the time will come later. Why did Leo always have to have the ability to control and contain you? But he kept cool, restraining his greed, although not his fury. Exchanging ready glances with his blue-masked brother, they jumped.
Raph dropped to the ground first, his angry battle grunt warning Bishop of their arrival. Bishop swirled around, a frown molded firmly on his brow, "You've been hiding for quite a while," now a churlish smile spread from cheek to cheek, his voice low and almost humorous, "and you think you can come down and ruin all the fun?"
Raph ran at him from the side, sais ready to hit the oncoming strike. But instead, Bishop sidestepped and hit him from behind, "Hasn't your master taught you anything?" his flippant attitude only bending the small bomb switch inside of Raph's head towards exploding.
Leo jumped, catching Bishop off guard. But not long enough. Bishop threw Leo off and ducked away from Raphs sailing sais. Bishop's eyes unable to see through his dark sunglasses, Leo could only imagine the jaded expression from underneath them, they were too easy for Bishop, "I find your skills quite inept actually."
Raph unstuck his sais from the building wall and with a roar of disapproval bolted at Bishops back, "How many times do we have to defeat you for you to understand you won't ever win?" Raph dodged the bullets shot that the baleful agent cast in his direction.
Seeing an advantage, Leo sprang towards Bishop, batting the gun out of his hands. Bishop flipped towards a metal pole and examining it quickly lunged at Leo.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
From the lower clearing, Don and Mikey had knocked out a few henchmen in which a small clearing had opened up around Leatherhead. Both reassured each other they would be fine. All they needed to do was capture Leatherhead and bolt.
"Go ahead and bring it on, but you know we're totally kicking shell!" Mikey hit another lackey in the head. Don had disappeared behind Leatherhead, untying his chains and ropes vigorously, keeping an eye out for any trouble.
"Um, Don? You almost done?" Mikey's raspy voice kept somewhat level despite the many kicks he was delivering, "Sure, leave it up to one guy - a very dependable guy, but you know what I mean - to fight a bunch of unhappy men. And let me remind you we aren't exactly wanted h-" Mikey stopped babbling mid-sentence.
From behind Leatherhead, Don peered over to see who had got him to stop talking, the only feat the turtles had given up on trying long ago. But to his astonishment Mikey wavered in place, "Donny," his voice sounded slightly drunk, "I don't feel so good."
"Mikey what's wrong?," Don ran to his brothers side.
Mikey collapsed woozily. At his shoulder a tranquilizer dart had firmly found its mark. "Mikey? Mikey, get up, we need you," but his brother stayed heavily sedated.
Don cringed as a dart stuck into his own soft skin. The drug threatened to turn him unconscious. He felt unbearably drowsy, held down by the weight of the entire atmosphere, a hazy cloud enveloped his mind, his body, and lastly his consciousness. The world around him seemed to fall into a rhythmic drum of earthy shudders, pictures flashing themselves in-front of him, slowly, lethargically; Mikey's orange mask, the battle scene, Leatherhead, fighting, shot, Leo's terrified stare, and at last, Bishops menacing face.
oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
From somewhere inside of Leo a stifled soft cry distracted him, but it didn't seemed to be his. Bishops metal mallet hit him in the chest, throwing him backwards until his head slammed against the buildings wall. Getting slowly to his knees, Leo knew it without having to look. Something was wrong, something had happened to Don and Mikey. When he looked over, Raph seemed to know it too. How could such an easily sought fight turn out so impossibly difficult? Bishop fled to his van, his minions scattering. When everything below had cleared up, an enervate rope of disappointment and failure wrapped itself around him. They had taken Leatherhead. And they had taken Don and Mikey with him.
"Mikey! Don!" Raph's gruff anger stricken bellows echoed through the quiet back streets of New York, "Leo? Damnit, why they hell didn't we go after them?"
Pressure pounded itself against Leo's chest, threatening to make him collapse, "Let's go, there wasn't anything we could do. They would have gotten away anyway."
"I know. It's just..." Raph trailed off. But Leo knew. It was Bishop, he had become so omnipotent towards himself. But he was in for a shock, in for an ineluctable welcome back gift. The enmity between he and Bishop had just roared back to life, the animosity within Leo that had been in hibernation for so long was now at its fullest.
Bishop was back. And stronger and more powerful than ever!
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Hope you liked it! Please leave a review! Thanks.
Fervently. Eloquent