Disclaimer: I don't own anything you recognize.

I came up with this idea and thought I'd give it a spin. My goal for this time is to make it really realistic; tell me how I'm doing.

Safety Pin.

"Ms. Underwood, would you like to grace us with your presence at the board?"

Roxana Underwood nearly fell from her chair at the sound of her name, blinking furiously and trying to refocus on the present world. What class was she in? Chemistry? Geometry? There was really no telling, but she would just have to do her best. Roxana stood slowly from her chair, ignoring the expectant eyes of both her peers and teacher.

As she walked confidently towards the room's front, the girl couldn't help but feel almost unimportant; at Peabody Academy for Gifted Young Ladies, every student wore the same hideous black plaid and constricting saddle oxfords. No one could set themselves apart, for fear of aggrivating the administration, and the student body felt almost trapped by the school's restrictions. Roxana, not one to be held captive by a bunch of fogey alumnae, made it habit to disrupt her classes on a regular basis. Needless to say, the abbrasive girl was no stranger to detention.

"Please finish my notes concerning Alexander the Great, Ms. Underwood."

Ah, I'm in History then, Roxana mused. With a rather contemplative look on her smooth Irish skin, the girl picked up a piece of chalk and began drawing on the board with deliberate strokes. The class of girls watched her intently, curious what the great Roxana would do this time; when she stepped back from the board, green eyes gleaming with mischief, Roxana's creation was greeted with uproarious laughter. On the board was a labeled picture of the History teacher, next to an equals sign, which was directly adjacent to a large penis.

The teacher, almost unfazed by the action, merely pointed scathingly towards the door. Roxana just placed her hands amusedly in her blazer pockets, collecting her things and saluting her teacher in mock military fashion.

The teacher's original intention was to send Roxana to the principal's office. Unfortunately, the girl had other plans and didn't even pretend to take the right turns towards the administration wing. Instead, red and black curls swinging like an oil streaked pendulum, Roxana strode boldly out the school's stately oak doors. The cold breeze of autumn did little to faze the girl as she meandered rudely across the well manicured lawn towards a street she knew all too well. On her way, Roxana dug a box of cigarettes from her pocket and lit one, letting it rest almost neglectedly between her lips. This day was just like all the others.

Eventually, Roxana neared the gates of a familiar warehouse, covered in offensive graffit and guarded by several tatooed watchmen. As she neared the gates, the girl threw her head forward and collected her hair into a high ponytail, revealing her ears for the first time. They were decorated in hoops and studs, giving her a rather dangerous appearance as she addressed the foremost guard.

"Lance, lemme in."

The guard, a muscular fellow with a blonde mullet, snorted and opened the gates without question. "Ain't you supposed to be in school, Blitz?"

At this, Roxana snorted, making her way easily inside the courtyard. "I told the teacher she was a dick and she threw me out. Can you believe it?"

Lance and the other guards laughed heartily, always amused by Roxana's rebellious behavior in school. With a grin in their direction, Roxana turned and strode through the warehouse's steel door. Inside, there was a spacious and hollow room, occupied by scored of makeshift bleachers and a boxing ring. The lights were currently low and lit sparingly in the off hours, giving the room an eerie feeling. Roxana's footsteps were like claps in the dark as she made her way through one of the many connecting hallways to a stern black door. She barged in without hesitation or ceremony.

Inside, several dangerous looking men sat quietly around a folding table with cards in their hand, cigarettes in their mouths and piercings on their faces. Though each had his own distinctive marks, they all shared one symbol on their right shoulders: the hideous mark of the Purple Dragons. The men glanced up as Roxana entered, their faces breaking into surprising smiles; hapiness almost looked out of place on their faces.

One in particular, a man with a blonde mohawk of sorts, called out to Roxana. The purple dragon creeping up the side of his face might make him frightening to others, but Roxana looked favorably upon him. "Why aren't you at school, Roxie?" the man asked curiously.

Roxana was slow to answer. She threw down her messenger bag and kicked off her saddle oxfords, taking a drag on her cigarette. "I told my history teacher she was a dick," the girl said finally.

, clearly

The blonde man groaned, rubbing the back of his head in irritation. "Roxana Lucretia Underwood, I told you not to fuck with your teachers no more!" he exclaimedtired of this reocurring conversation.

"Brett, get the hell over it," Roxana growled disagreeably. "I'm not in the mood. I didn't want to go to that stupid ass school in the first place."

The other men exchanged tentative glances as they sensed the already sensetive subject coming to the surface again. They began to slowly rise to their feet and make their way out the door as Brett picked up the conversation again, anger evident in his voice. "It was mom's last fuckin' wish, Roxie. Don't be a bitch!"

The mention of her mother's last wish sent a jolt of pain through Roxana's spine and she turned violently away, staring down at the greasy stone floor. "Brett, please, I don't wanna talk about it. I just can't take that school. You know I'd do anything for mom's memory, just...not that."

Brett sighed wearily and fell back in his chair, massaging his temples with tatooed fingers. "It was fucking hard enough being your brother, and now I'm your guardian. Can't you do at least one thing I tell ya?" he asked desperately.

This only brought a frown to Roxana's face. "I may be your sister, but you've got as much control over me as that damn school does. Absolutely none. I'm gonna suit up for patrol tonight."

And with this, Roxana turned on her heels and left the room in a flurry of red and black, leaving a disheartened Brett in her wake. He wasn't sure just what to do with his sister these days; she was truly an uncontrollable "Blitz" of devestating attacks.

That night, an infamous group of ninja fighting turtles crept silently across New York, tip toing on rooftops as only ninjas could. Leonardo led his brothers, blue mask tails flying out behind him as he surveyed the streets below. It was a quiet night, unusually quiet, and something about it didn't sit well with him. The group stopped momentarily atop a building looking out on Central Park, pausing to catch their breath and glance around the area.

Donatello saddled up beside his sword weiling leader, murmering, "Is it just me or does this whole city feel weird tonight?"

At this, Leonardo glanced at the turtle in purple, replying lowly, "My thoughts exactly, Donnie. Something's not right, but I just can't put my finger on it. The feeling that something's going to happen, you know?"

A voice behind the two interrupted their conversation, heated and angry. "Well, if it's gonna happen, it better happen soon. I'm damn bored of fightless nights."

Raphael growled as he hefted his sais, twirling them experimentally and looking restlessly out on the endless sea of trees. Leonardo sighed as the red clad turtle heightened his awareness, most likely riling himself for nothing. The remaining turtle, grinning through his brother's unsettled demeanors, said jokingly, "There's pizza waiting for me in the fridge, so whadya say I go home and say hello? I'm hungry..."

As if to prove Michaelangelo's point, his stomach gave a loud growl. Donatello rolled his eyes and looked pointedly at his brother in orange. "Mikey, you're always hungry."

Mikey only shrugged, turning to follow Leo's gaze over the roof's edge. At the sound of heavy footsteps on pavement and the whirring of spray paint, the four turtles turned simultaneously to face the west. Something was going on a few alleys down; they could feel it in their shells. In a single motion, the brothers leapt across the building gaps and landed on top of Mario's Tailoring shop, only five streets down from Purple Dragon headquarters, and looked down into the murky darkness below. They could make out a few figures by the streetlight, though most were still wreathed in shadow. Raphael squinted against the black and was finally able to make out a Purple Dragon tattoo as someone stepped close to the light. This was all it took.

Raphael leapt down from the building, yelling wrathfully from his gut. He lashed out at the surprised gang members, who had been spray painting their symbol on the formally blank bricks, and began whirling his sais in fiersome silver blurs.

The Purple Dragon clan, which consisted of Dragon Face and his elite guard, immedeately surrounded Raphael and prepared to finish off the most troublesome mutant turtle. Brett, alias Dragon Face, remembered this turtle from their many encounters previously and furrowed his brow angrily. "Kill 'im," he said almoast carelessly.

Before the others could carry out their leader's order, Raphael's brothers were upon them. Michaelangelo's nunchaks spun in deadly wheels, tearing apart every limb within their path as he focused on the battle. While he was light hearted during the normal hours, battle was a different matter entirely.

Donatello took control of his surroundings by engaging several Purple Dragons. His bo staff boldly whacked several unfortunate gang members on their thick heads, sending them flying in every direction, though Don wasn't truly in the situation. He was off in another dimension, exploring the quantum theory and weighing the possibilities of genetic mutation.

Perhaps the most comfortable fighter among the turtles was Leonardo, calmly lashing out with his katanas and executing perfect form, calculating each move perfectly. His many extra hours of practice began to benefit him as more Purple Dragons gravitated in his direction, growling maliciously with their many gold capped teeth. This would no doubt be another all out brawl.

Leaning against the wall in what appeared to be boredom, Roxana blew out a thick stream of air; she always found these gang brawls to be monotonous when they fought the turtles. There were only four of them, after all, and normally the fight broke up before most Purple Dragons could try their hand against the mutant ninjas. While Roxana was a good fighter, she didn't particularly feel like exerting herself tonight.

As Raphael finished off the last of his Purple Dragons, leaving them groaning and mostly unconcious on the alley floor, he glanced around the survey the scene. His brothers were handling the others skillfully and didn't appear to need his help, though he did notice one straggler. A girl, looking to be about 16, was leaning up against the alley wall with her arms crossed, clad only in a black sports bra and bright red windbreakers, red hair streaked with dark black and ears pierced numerous times. She looked bored and uninterested in the fight as she surveyed the night sky; Raph might have found her amusing if he hadn't noticed the purple dragon snaking down her arm.

Roxana jerked from her daydreaming as someone let out a mighty yell. She managed to block just in time as one of the infamous mutant turtles launched itself in her direction, wrathful eyes narrowed in hateful slits. It was the red one, her favorite color in fact, and he seemed to be in a terrible mood this night. He lashed out with his right sai and caught a surprised Roxana across her arm with its tip. The girl gave a grunt of pain and retaliated swiftly as Brett had dutifully taught her, kicking Raph powerfully in the jaw. The turtle was surprised this little punk could touch him at all, but he became even more angered in that moment than he'd previously been.

While Roxana and Raphael continued their fight, the turtles finished off the last of their Purple Dragon foes. Several gang members began to collect themselves and run from the alley, fleeing in fearful droves. The others soon followed, yet Dragon Face caught sight of his younger sister battling with the red turtle. "ROXANA!" he called desperately, turning to run back for her.

A passing Purple Dragon grabbed his friend by the shirt and began dragging him in the opposite direction, saying hurriedly, "C'mon, Dragon Face, we gotta get outta here!"

Soon enough, Dragon Face lost the strength to struggle and was jerked out of the alley, hot on the heels of his rag tag gang.

Roxana watched her entire gang leaving, not seeming to care that their leader's sister was still fighting the enemy, and swore brutally. "Brett! Fuck, Brett! Come back!"

While the girl called out for her brother, Raphael managed to punch her squarely in the ribs; a dull cracking sound met the ears of all those in the surrounding area and Roxana winced, falling back against the alley wall with an arm bent across her stomach. "They left me..." she murmered, tears of bitterness and anger collecting in her eyes.

"They're Purple Dragons, whadya expect?" Raphael barked sharply, face alight with disdain.

Roxana coughed wretchedly, head lolling to the side. "My brother left me..." she whispered then, tears finally escaping down her cheeks.

The turtles exchanged glances and Michaelangelo, who was wiping blood and grit from his nunchaks, asked curiously, "Who's your brother?"

The girl said nothing, for she'd finally lost conciousness against the alley wall. The brothers were silent for quiet some time as they surveyed the damage they'd wrought, proud yet also disgruntled. Finally, Donatello walked softly towards the girl and bent to level with her, reaching into her pocket and withdrawing a wallet. He was surprised not only to find a Purple Dragon carrying a wallet, but also that it contained a school ID. It read "Roxana Lucretia Underwood," below the girl's picture, along with the name of the school: "Peabody Academy for Gifted Young Ladies."

"Wow," Donatello exclaimed softly, raising up and presenting the wallet to Leo.

Leo looked through the wallet curiously, raising an eye ridge. "She's pretty well rounded for a Purple Dragon. Goes to a good Private School, a member of the Young Adults Musical Theater Guild, has a driver's license and a motorcycle license, an employee card for Bloomigdales. She doesn't seem like a gang member."

The youngest turtle in orange joined his brother, observing the wallet for himself. "Maybe she didn't want to be a Purple Dragon. They've blackmailed people before, right?"

Raphael, who'd been silent this whole time, looked up from the alley floor and spat, "You always have a choice. Nothing says you have to join the Purple Dragons; I'd rather die first."

The others were quiet when met with this insinuation, exchanging nervous glances; Raph was so sensetive at that moment, there was no telling what kind of nonsense he might spout. Don mused, "It's strange she was carrying a wallet out on patrol like that. It's a weird place to have your wallet, really."

Agreeing with a nod of his head, Leonardo said, "It's almost like she wanted someone to find her."

Almost on a whim, Mikey said, "Let's take her back to the lair."

The other whipped their heads around, staring at their youngest brother as though he'd gone mad. "What? Mikey, you can't be serious!" Don exclaimed, taken aback.

"Why not?" Mikey asked obliviously. "I mean, where else is she gonna get patched up? Raph really did a number on her. Besides, she seems like the kind of Purple Dragon who could change, doesn't she?"

For a moment, Leonardo almost considered agreeing with his brother, yet his sensibility caught up with him just in time. "Michaelangelo, that's too dangerous, not to mention foolish. She could run back to the Purple Dragons and tell them exactly where we live."

But Mikey was determined to have his way in this matter. "Doesn't Master Splinter always say, 'Save one life, contribute to two?' By changing her life, we could better ourselves!"

This was quite an interesting proposition and the other turtles exchanged a surprised glance, unused to hearing Michaelangelo behaving seriously. Donatello adressed his two older brothers with a shrug. "He has a point. If we could reform just one Purple Dragon, it would almost all be worth it."

Leo was about to say something when Raph quickly interrupted him. "No way in hell!" he shouted, waving his arms angrily. "Taking a Purple Dragon back to our home? Trying to reform her? That's totally nuts! Leo, you've gotta see how crazy this is!"

After a moment of contemplation, Leo said calmly, "Let's take a vote. All those against taking her home, raise their hands."

Raphael's hand shot up and he glared wrathfully at his brothers, waiting for their hands to raise before Leo called time. Yet there was a still and eerie silence. Leo wasted no time in asking, "And all those in favor?"

The remaining three brothers raised their hands and looked back to Raphael, who seemed absolutely livid. "Majority rules, Raph," Leo announced, trying to sound apathetic about the matter. In all reality, the idea of adding a new member to their household was rather exciting. It could bring all sorts of new challenged, both inside and outisde of the training room. She'd appeared to be an accomplished fighter, holding her own against Raphael as long as she had. Surely, she'd fallen in the end, but she was a sixteen year old human gang member. It wasn't like she'd been learning ninjitsu all her life. It was almost like having a new student, Leonardo thought.

Before anymore could be said, Raphael lowered his eyeridges dangeorusly and barked, "Fine, you wanna fucking ruin all chances we have of surviving? Fine with me. We'll all go down together, like a fucking family. Is that what you want Leo? Huh?"

Leonardo sighed. "Raph, I..."

"You what?" the red turtle asked loudly. "Aren't using your head? You bet your ass you aren't! God, Leo, think about this! A Purple Dragon! In our house!"

The oldest brother was slightly offended. "It's like a training mechanism," he argued, annoyed by this point.

This was the final straw for Raphael. "A TRAINING MECHANISM! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU SMOKING! You know what, never mind. I'm outta here." Without so much as a word of goodbye, the red turtle leapt towards the fire escape, pulling himself deftly up the rungs and atop the building. Within mere seconds, he was gone, disappeared into the darkest corners of New York City. The other turtles let out heavy sighs, quite used to Raphael's midnight escapades.

Donatello broke the silence. "We should get her home so that I can get started; it looks like Raph broke at least three of her ribs."

His brothers snapped into action and Mikey bent down, scooping the injured girl into his arms. He felt as though he'd crush her, what with her almost nonexistent weight; she was muscular like a fighter but thin like a dancer. It was hard to place this girl based on looks alone, Mikey decided. He would just be very careful with her, not only physically but emotionally.

Without another word, the three ninjas proceeded home through the many back roads and sewer passages, wondering exactly what might happen with their new house guest in the mix.