First and foremost, I do not post this story intending to insult anybody, as I myself have struggled to make my OCs likeable, and eventually gave up. So kudos to anyone who can make their characters not Marys and Garys (or whatever the male counterpart), and if you're not there yet, then just keep trying.
Secondly, I don't consider humor my forte. Actually, I don't even consider angst/drama/hurt (whatever depressing tear-soaked crapola I write) a particular skill of mine either, but I have fun writing it, and I had fun writing this, so hopefully you'll enjoy and not throw rotten vegetables in my direction.
Thirdly? This was written on a whim. Significantly reduced editing on my part, but like I said, wrote it for fun, a change from the norm. Sorry if it's so long its boring. Meant for the fic to be much shorter, but what's done is done.
If it is your wish to create an OC who would actually be likeable, then I suggest you NOT use someone like this girl.
I don't own the concept of the TMNT. I don't exactly own Mary Sue either, but I have owned one, and she- they- are in the catacombs of… somewhere, purged from my twelve-year-old fanfiction-writing mind.
Rated for swearing, mild sexual suggestions.
Mary Sue walked in to a bar.
And that my friends is why I am unlike the rest of you Mary Sues… because a bar has much more class than an alleyway. This makes me slightly more unique among the rest.
Oh, by the way, I'm kindof plain, but in a beautiful, more like gorgeous, sort of way. It's hard to explain, and we don't have too many lines to spare before the Guys suddenly jump in and save my life, so we'll just settle in the middle with 'very pretty' with my pin straight and perfect brown hair, my seafoam eyes with this awesome hazel circle around the pupil, and most importantly my blemish-free skin.
Being 'very pretty' is a blessing to me, considering the rough life I had growing up. My father ran away when I was young, probably from my psychotic mother, who kept me locked in the attic, feeding me the occasional bread crust and (if I was blessed that night) cold water. She beat me nightly, obviously jealous that I was better looking and just looking for an out for her anger at my father's absence.
My only friend was a pet turtle, Lucky, who turned out to not be so lucky because I accidently fed him mothballs instead of his food. In hindsight, I should have probably realized my mistake before sealing his fate on that cold, rainy, thunder-boomy night, because his normal food was not as large and round and additionally, did not smell like moth balls.
Even after that, I still feel like I have a strange connection with turtles. It draws them to me, probably something in my melodious voice, calling them with the ancient sounds of Mother Earth.
Anyway, one day I managed to escape, and I ran away, in case you were wondering to some place other than my house. I slept under an overpass for a few nights, turning my back to the harsh weather of New York City nights, cowering in the shadows at the sound of gunfire. I wandered, and eventually found an old Japanese man to take care of me, who taught me Japanese. But things didn't end there, because he died when I was just old enough to live on my own, leaving me, his "daughter," this small crappy apartment with like ten minutes' worth of hot water for a shower.
I take it all in stride, of course, trying not to complain, because if I can't have anything in this shitty world, I might as well be humble.
Not to be a bitch or anything, but my story totally tops their lifelong sewer dwelling existence because shunned by humanity thing.
Oh yeah. Going back to what supposed to be the real focus of the story, being TMNT fanfiction, I should tell you how I met my new family. I mean friends. I mean acquaintances. I mean lovers of the strangest type.
So I walked in to a bar, and sitting at the center three stools were a priest, a rabbi, and a cowboy. But I ignored them, because trouble was stirring at the pool tables. Two guys were jesting one another, and considering their drunken moronity (a word I made up, as I am a pioneer of the ever-changing English language) they soon got pretty pissed.
The fight dragged in several thugs from all directions, and before I knew it, I was suddenly, completely (in an absolute sort of manner) the damsel in distress, as some guy threw a chair across the room in my general direction. It's a matter of luck that I was able to dodge it (imagine if I died and the story couldn't continue on!) and after a lot more hullabaloo, I was grabbed by some guy with rotting teeth who intended to drag me in to an alleyway and steal my goods, which, as a virgin, happen to be more than my wallet.
But sadly, in the real world nobody actually gets saved in alleyways, and knowing this I planted a solid kick to the guys… shins. This made him more infuriated than he had been previously, and previously he had been raging kinda-sorta, so he raised his hand to crack a bottle over my skull when suddenly I was ripped from his vice-like grip.
A man in a trench coat and fedora was standing between me and Mr. Furious. That picture was the last thing I saw as something hit me in the back of the head, and I had to miss the rest of the fight because I friggin' fainted.
When I woke up, I was somewhere different. It smelled of stale air, and was darker than I was used to.
"Careful with her!"
"I wana see!"
"Mikeyyyyy…"
"Raph…!"
I opened my eyes and looked at them. Noticing me move, they froze, almost as though they expected me to scream. Howevr, I was not scared of them, in fact, I was more shocked than anything. After the shock wore off, I was fascinated. Comfortable even, because I'm so damn good with turtles and people, so turtles mutated with people were pretty much a breeze, something I could easily swallow, even though in real life I often choke and have to give myself the Heimlich on the kitchen chair.
One of the creatures, wearing blue, cleared his throat. He was cautious.
"Hey… are you okay?"
I blinked owlishly, like an owl does.
"Yeah… where am I? Am I dreaming? This has to be a dream. It's so dreamy up in here." Maybe if I repeated myself, I could get these strange, probably slow, creatures to understand me. Of course, I risked looking like a moron- moronous- but since I didn't have that many fallbacks, I knew I'd easily make up for it.
The purple-masked one smiled kindly. Gently, and I immediately knew he had to be the smart pacifist of the group. "Actually, down in here is more accurate. You're in the sewer." He swallowed hard, and ventured, "our home."
"Your home."
"Yeah!" The orange-masked one nodded eagerly.
"In… the sewer."
The red-masked one crossed his arms and grunted his 'yes.'
I sat there and stared. "You couldn't just leave me there until the police or ambulance or something came?"
They stared at me. I suddenly felt okay with the fact that they hadn't done the reasonable thing. They were kindof hot.
"Well, you were hurt." I turned to the orange-masked one again. He grinned, and it stretched across his face. "I'm Michelangelo by the way."
"Raphael. Raph."
"Donatello, at your service, ma'm!"
"And I," The blue one bowed formally, "am Leonardo."
From the shadows, someone cleared his throat. Stepping to the light, I beheld this large, walking rat, the only one who bothered to wear a decent shred of clothing. "I am the father and Master here." His voice- the accent- reminded me of the Japanese father who had adopted me, a man whose name I bearly think because it hurts like woah- Yoshi. "I am Splinter."
I smiled my best 'hiding the WTF? moment I'm having' smile. "Nice to meet you all!"
Raphael snorted. "Sorry, but we would have been there sooner if Fearless over here didn't insist on-"
"Raph, cut it out, she just woke up for crying out loud!"
"No, Leo, you cut it out!"
"Shut up! I don't have to follow you if I don't want to you know what Leo I've had enough this is all bullshit I hate you I'M LEAVING-"
It was at that point where I became needlessly upset with Raphael. Because even though I had only been here for just short of three minutes, and the argument was not my business, I was totally comfortable with my new family- oops, I mean friends- and we already probably had a love triangle going anyway. Or square. Pentagon, if you count the rat, with me (preferably) in the middle.
So that's pretty much all the reason I needed to get up and slap Raph, who in turn immediately focused his anger at me, but in a worse way, because what the hell's the point without a little extra drama.
I considered using my ninja skills on him, for I have them, and yes, they are quite impressive (though not as impressive as my ability to control the elements), but decided to save that for later, because eventually I knew in order to resolve this argument I'd have to use them against a horde of Foot ninja and save his ass, and I wanted him to be thoroughly surprised when that happened.
Maybe after that he'd break down and tell me why he's always so angry. By then, I probably would have known him for a solid twenty-four hours, and he'd definitely know he could trust me enough to open up and expose even the most sensitive secrets he holds.
Then? He would confess his undying love to me, and ask me to pick him, sending me into a torrent of uncertainty.
After Raph stomped off and I resolved to be angry with him for a few more paragraphs before I began to feel bad about hitting him, Leo stood staring at me. I knew he was looking into the deep pools of my eyes, pools that I only had because I am, in fact, a deep person. I felt the electricity between us.
It was so obvious- he wanted me. He was looking at me in this dissecting way, probably wondering if I had a birthmark or scar or something which made me even more special and incredible than he first thought. I smiled in a mysterious way, knowing full well that it wasn't just a birthmark in the shape of a rose I had, but I also had a scar which perfectly outlined the outside shape, then came out from the bottom of the flower to produce a shiny-white stem, complete with a few thorns. I got it after my mother died in childbirth.
The thorns suit me. Pick me, and I'll stab your hands bleeding.
He wouldn't know about the scar, of course, until he ravaged me like a savage animal a few more chapters down the road, right after I officially pick the one with the Pretty Swords.
Without a word, Leo walked off to the dojo, probably to dedicate a few katas to me in an effort to clear the strange feelings he had for me. Of course, I knew that would just confuse me more, he was already so deeply in love with me.
I really felt bad about hitting Raph now.
CLIFFHANGER.
This is a oneshot, btw. I don't have intentions on continuing it. Hope you enjoyed!