He couldn't get his green, three fingered hands to type fast enough. His large fingers flew across the keys, electricity seemingly emanating off them as new thoughts sparked his brain. You could practically see the wheels turning and the cogs meshing together in his head, his eyes darting constantly across the screen.
Pop-ups, barriers, and fire walls were continuously springing up on the screen. Each one he tore down with ease, but his fingers were moving ever faster to beat the clock.
5..
4..
3..
2..
"In!" Donatello leaned back, stretched, and crossed his hands behind his head impressively.
"Identity confirmed. Welcome back Mr. Sakahira." The voice came from the computer. He leaned forward again, cracked his knuckles, and dove back into his work.
Hacking government computers was Donatello's favorite past-time, especially when he was posing as the third most powerful person in the United States.
"Three, two, one, sold! Best price on that Superman nightlight I've found yet. Score!"
Mikey felt something small and fluffy jump into his lap.
"Hey Millie, how do you like your newest cat bed? Comfier?" He picked the cat up in his hands and toughed his beak to the side of its face, nuzzling its fur softly. Another cat jumped up onto his knees, and he put Millie down.
"Hello Sophie." This cat was greeted with soft strokes to the back.
Another ball of fur brushed up against his computer chair. "Yo, Jaws, get out of here. Nobody likes you." The large grey cat hissed at his feet as he shoved it aside with his foot.
Michelangelo put Sophie down gently and gazed around in search of his oldest and most beloved pet. His eyes scanned room. There were boxes everywhere. They lined the walls and made towers in the middle of the room, each individually labeled Ebay.
Cats and small kittens seeped from every crack between the city of boxes. He owned 21 in total, three of whom were expecting new litters and 12 of which were currently within sight.
He spotted a small orange fluff ball twitch in the corner. Rising from his computer chair, he clumsily leapt over the scattered boxes and attempted to squeeze his chubby figure between the towers. Many boxes fell with a crash in the process.
Reaching the old cat, the eldest of all of them, he picked up the fragile creature and cradled it in his arms. "Ah, Klunk, my only friend, will today bring any surprises?"
Thick grey smog painted the sky, hiding all stars from view. It wasn't pretty, but it was familiar. After living in Ney York City all his life, there was no way he was living anywhere but a city. He tried living in the county once. It was wonderful, but it wasn't like home; the lights, the smells, and most importantly, the crime. Detroit Michigan was perfect.
Of course, there was a lot of crime just about everywhere you turned these days. But that's only to be expected when you live under a dictatorship.
He leapt suddenly from the multi-story building he was perched upon into the gleaming city lights below. He fell, and fell, and fell. It appeared he would keep falling to hs definite doom if he had not grabbed a balcony rail hanging off the side of an apartment. With little effort, he pulled himself onto it. He could feel it shake and rattle dangerously under his weight, but it held. Routinely, he scanned the area for bystanders or curious eyes peeking out of gleaming windows. All was still' it was unlikely anyone would be out at night, but it was severely important to be sure.
Sensing everything was clear, he slid the dark window open, and stepped inside the abandoned apartment building. The room was pitch black, but he could see enough to make his way around. Knowing the importance of keeping the abandoned building dark was key. If someone saw a light on inside, they would surely discover that he'd been living there, and that he, Hamato Rapheal, was not dead after all.
Ok, so hopefully you've realized that things have gotten extremely out of hand with the country, and the turtles. I'll update ASAP, but I'm really going to need reviews to help power this one.