Author's Note: It's been a while since I posted something, huh? Well, I was watching the old Batman movies when it gave me an idea on a TMNT AU. In this AU, Donatello is a journalist who wants to prove himself, and he gets that chance with the emergence of a vigilante named Deadly Nightshade. At the same time, he is introduced to a mysterious heiress, not knowing there's more to her than meets the eye (welp Transformers reference). The turtles aren't related in this AU, and mutants, anthropomorphic animals, and humans intermingle with each other openly. Please read and review!
Chapter 1
Manhattan, 2015
The light from a quarter moon partly illuminated areas in the city that weren't overwhelmed by streetlights or neon signs, or the radio towers. Cars could be honking for miles over congested traffic, and the air had the smell of gas-guzzler exhaust. Yep, just another night in Manhattan. And with a city like Manhattan, it came with another perk, if you could call it that: crime. If it wasn't gang activity that had people on edge, it was the seedy going-ons orchestrated by the mob. If you didn't know the name Antoine Puzorelli, then may the Lord have mercy on you. And if you didn't witness a mugging, then that was considered unusual.
The denizens figured the police had their hands tied, didn't care, or were just scared of what sort of retaliation they would face from Puzorelli. They were often tempted to take the law into their own hands, but that would mean instant lock-up by the Chief himself. Well…maybe if you were the right kind of vigilante, then the crime problem would be solved. But who could possibly do that?
That answer would come with numerous rumors spread by the local street thugs and bums. For the past year or so, criminals have been found bound in wire or chains at crime scenes before they could get away with any stolen loot. However, there were no clues on exactly who was capturing them. If it was some sort of vigilante…well, it wouldn't be long before Chief of Police Raphael got involved. After all, the word was he had some sort of beef against vigilante wannabes.
One night in particular began with a man, his wife, and their young son; tourists trying to find their way through Manhattan. Of course, they had to run into the notorious Purple Dragons; they were another addition to the list of people they mugged. Two of them, Sid and Fong, grabbed the wife's purse before the husband put up a fight. Fong finally had enough of the resistance and pulled out a gun, aiming it directly at the child's head. The husband immediately let go of the purse, causing the two gang members to bolt for wherever their hideout was.
What they didn't realize was that they had someone watching their every move.
Fong and Sid made it to the rooftop of an abandoned building, the former rummaging through the purse and pulling out cash and credit cards. Sid gave him an awkward stare, fiddling his calloused thumbs, before asking, "Was it really necessary to point yer gun at that kid's head?"
"What does it matter?" Fong snorted nonchalantly before lighting up a cigarette. "We got what we wanted, and no one's gonna come looking for us."
"Yeah, but…" Sid stopped and glanced around the area nervously, feeling someone was eyeing them. "H-Haven't you heard the rumors?"
"What rumors?"
"Y'know…the ones about that costumed freak?" Sid whispered. "I heard they got Chris Bradford last week…"
Fong chuckled, blowing smoke near his accomplice's face. "They're just that…rumors! There's no such thing as that costumed freak, and you know it!"
A shadow peered from the small water tower above, looming over the two street punks. Sid and Fong happened to glance up and see the figure glowering at them, the latter so shocked his cigarette dropped from his mouth. Before they could get up and bolt, the figure dropped down and swiftly gave Sid an uppercut. He violently bit down on his tongue, causing blood to drip from his mouth, before he collapsed. Fong yelped and scooted towards the edge of the roof. He pulled out his gun as a last resort, but the figure just kicked it away, punched him in the gut, and picked him up by the neck, holding his head over the side.
"Don't kill me, man!" Fong begged, almost crying. "Don't kill me!"
The figure simply stared at him through the visor on their helmet before they forcefully lifted the punk's head up to face them. "Oh…I'm not going to kill you." The entity spoke in a feminine voice, distorted a bit by electronic means. "But you're going to return what you stole…and I want you to do me a little favor. I want you to spread word to your buddies about who I am."
"W-Who are you!?" Fong shrieked.
Pulling him closer, the figure spoke in a voice barely above a whisper, "I'm Deadly Nightshade."
Fong was finally let go-well, dropped was more accurate-with his head lolling on the edge of the building. He watched as Deadly Nightshade jumped off the roof and disappeared; did they commit suicide? He looked over the side and saw no signs of a body on the pavement. He suddenly let out a weak chuckle before he passed out on the roof, his upper body slumped over the roof's edge.
Onlookers took the moment to stare at the police cars and ambulances set around some abandoned building. One pulled out his phone to record paramedics wheeling some guy with a bloody mouth on a stretcher into one of the awaiting transports for emergency care. A police officer noticed the phone and told the onlookers to leave. One of the officers on the scene, who looked like a humanoid turtle wearing a trench coat, took a drag off of his cigarette as his green eyes watched the first ambulance leave.
"This is the third time this week, Chief." One officer sighed. "And once again, nothing left behind. We don't have any idea who this guy is."
The chief placed his eyes on the second stretcher slowly coming out of the building and he pursed his lips together in suppressed frustration. "First it's the local drunks…then the run-of-the-mill bank robbers…and now the Purple Dragons. I smell a vigilante showboat. I'm gonna have a talk with these thugs once they wake up and behave like good boys."
"Sir…you don't think those rumors going around are true, do you?" The officer questioned in a nervous tone. "There hasn't been one like this for a few years…"
"Don't get worked up over gossip." The chief assured. "These thugs'll say anything to get off the hook…even blaming their blunders on ghosts."
"Ghosts? Really, Chief Raphael?" An approaching voice teased. "Would-be criminals are actually stupid enough to blame it on ghosts?"
Raphael scowled, puffing on his cigarette one more time before flicking it to the ground. Great…whenever these weird attacks happened, HE would always show up to look for more fuel for a so-called scandal. He turned towards the street and found another humanoid turtle, one significantly taller and sporting glasses. The other turtle flashed a smile, showing the gap in his front teeth, which greatly irritated the chief.
"Well, look who came crawling from the gutter. The hotshot journalist himself." Raphael glowered, crossing his arms over his plastron. "What the hell do you want, Donatello?"
"Oh, so you remember my name this time?" Donatello mused, readying the recording function on his phone. "The attack on those gang members…it looks to me we have another appearance by Deadly Nightshade. After all, one of your officers wouldn't be capable of this, would they?"
The chief's eyes widened, but just as quickly narrowed into slits. He marched up to the journalist and made sure their faces were a mere inch or so from each other. "Let me get something straight with you, newsboy." Raph warned, the cigarette smell in his breath hitting Donnie square in the nostrils. "There is NO vigilante freak runnin' around in MY city. And if there were…I'd be the FIRST to find 'em. So stop stickin' yer nose where it doesn't belong."
The other not-so-pleasant words he had for him fell back to the dark reaches of his mind when they heard disoriented moans and shouts. The two turtles turned to see Fong in a stretcher being loaded on the ambulance and shouting, "N-Night…N-Nightshade! D-Deadly…Nightshade!"
The chief stared at the injured thug being loaded on the ambulance, his eyes widening slightly in disbelief. Donatello stared as well until a triumphant smirk crossed his lips. Once Raph turned back in his direction, he crossed his arms and retorted, "No vigilante freak running around in your city, huh?"
Raphael sputtered, holding his finger up, before snorting like a mad bull and shooting back, "Just get out of here! And turn that friggin' phone off before I shoot it!"
When the chief stormed off, Donatello stuck his phone back in his pocket and cleaned his glasses. Typical…he's the only one to know that Manhattan has a new vigilante and no one takes him seriously. He had been spending the past several months probing into this string of retaliation against criminals, and everyone around him either didn't care or didn't want to face the truth and stay in their fog of ignorance instead. Shouldn't the news be about the truth and not lies to make people pretend everything's normal? Straightening the collar on his shirt, the turtle glanced up at the rooftops of neighboring buildings, as if he wanted something to appear out of nowhere.
"I know you're out there somewhere…" He murmured. "…And I'm not gonna stop until I find you."
Camera flashes and murmurs echoed throughout the large conference room that housed itself in Manhattan's City Hall. Most of the guests consisted of the elite, the cream of the crop. If not any business tycoons or socialites, then the city officials and even members of the police force. In front of the podium sat a table seating city council members, the police commissioner, and the wealthiest diplomat in the district. The murmurs quieted down when a woman went up to the podium and tapped on the microphone.
"Ladies and gentlemen…thank you all for your patience." She spoke. "Now, if I may, please welcome our newly-elected mayor…Yoshi Hamato."
Everyone in the room clapped their hands to welcome the new mayor…well, except for someone in the back, who leaned back in his seat holding a glass of champagne, a cocky smirk on his lips. He watched intently as a humanoid rat stepped up to the podium and nodded in acceptance of the applause. The new Mayor Hamato held his hand up, silencing the applause, before his voice emanated from the microphone.
"Thank you. For many years, our country has made the very image of Manhattan synonymous with criminal abundance. As your mayor, I promise to do what I can, in cooperation with the council and police force, to bring down the source of the city-wide corruption…mafia boss Antoine Puzorelli. It is important that our beloved city become peaceful and habitable for decent, hard-working citizens."
"Decent?" The spectator in the back, another humanoid turtle, snickered. "There's no such thing as a decent person here. If you're decent, you should just move out."
"Watch your words, Leonardo." A middle-aged man across from him demanded quietly. "This man is what this city needs. If he found out about your shady doings- "
"Hey, I've been a good little attorney." Leonardo retorted, rolling his eyes. "Hamato has nothing on me. All I do is defend people who need me in court. Isn't that what a decent, hard-working citizen does?"
The man wasn't fooled by the turtle's play of innocence. "You're hard-working, but you're anything but decent."
"In addition to cooperation from the police commissioner and Chief of Police Raphael, I will also work in coordination with one of our local contributors, Ms. Nikita Olizweski." Yoshi paused and narrowed his eyes, radiating his determination towards his cause. "I will not rest until our streets are made safe to walk again."
The audience applauded again, both at the promises made by the mayor and the vast confidence he displayed. Leo clapped as well, though it was more on the lines of sarcastic clapping. The last mayor made similar promises…and he ended up on the end of a gun barrel by one of Puzorelli's assassins. The turtle defended Puzorelli a few times; managed to get him out of serving prison time. It was actually odd that this new mayor didn't mention that some clown was going around at night stopping crimes all by themselves. Taking another drink of champagne, he smirked and decided to see how long this guy would last.
Despite the delay in traffic, a black Toyota Camry pulled into the parking lot next to the news station. Donatello stepped out and let out a loud yawn, shielding his eyes from the morning sun in the usually-dreary sky. He hardly slept last night, and he was basically running on espresso. Coffee mug in hand along with his laptop and papers, he locked his car and strolled inside to tackle the day.
It didn't mean that his days were always smooth-sailing, though.
The moment he slapped his badge on and stepped inside, he was greeted by his coworkers, many of them much older than him, with a few snickers and chuckles. This wasn't new, unfortunately. Because he was probably the youngest there at twenty-three, he often got teased by the station, especially when he was eager to find his 'scoop of the century'.
"Hey Donnie, have you put in any applications for Mystery Inc. yet?" One man chortled.
"He can form his own if he can just find a talking Great Dane!" A woman giggled.
Donnie rolled his eyes and sighed. "Very funny, people. At least I'm concerned about what's going on around this city…something that doesn't involve what a celebrity's decked out in or a pointless football game."
"Aw, don't be like that, kid! We're just teasing you!"
The turtle didn't pay any attention to that means of defense when he saw his boss. Looking back over his papers, he made a mad-dash for the man and called out, "Mr. Thompson! Mr. Thompson-Burne!" He held his stack of papers up and waved them when he caught up to his boss. "Burne, boy do I have something good for you-"
"Donatello, how many times have I told you to just stick to what you're assigned?" The middle-aged man groaned, sliding his hand down his face. "I need you to do an article on the new pet shop opening downtown and have it done by tomorrow."
"What!?" The turtle spat, dropping his arm and almost dropping his article papers. "I've been gathering info on all the crimes thwarted by the mystery vigilante, and you want me to write about some PET SHOP!?"
"You know as well as I do that the vigilante is just a ghost story concocted by bums." Burne answered matter-of-factly. "Oh, and we've got an intern from the local community college. Since you're free, I'd like you to supervise him and teach him the ropes. Can you do that for me? Thanks."
Donatello wanted to argue, but his mouth just hung open and nothing came out. He finally regained his composure and let out a frustrated growl before storming to his desk. Of all the bosses he could have, he had to have Burne Thompson as his superior. That and coworkers who acted like total, shallow idiots. He once again questioned himself as to why he decided to go into journalism. Well, maybe this intern wouldn't be a total idiot towards him. When he got to his desk, he saw a stranger sitting near it and playing with a few paperclips. The stranger was another humanoid turtle, wearing a knit cap, vest, and barely tucked-in shirt. He scratched at one of his freckled cheeks before sticking his tongue out and getting ready to flick the paperclip towards the ceiling.
"Don't even think about it."
The other turtle stopped and dropped the paperclip onto Donnie's desk, looking up with a sheepish grin. "Heh, sorry dude. Just got bored waiting for you."
"Uh-huh." The bespectacled turtle cocked an eyebrow. "I'm guessing you're the intern?"
The freckled turtle grinned and shot up out of his seat, offering his hand. "Yep, the one and only! I'm Michelangelo, but my buds call me Mikey."
"Uh, Donatello." Donnie greeted back, shaking the other's hand with uncertainty. "All right Mikey, my boss is wanting me to write an article on the new pet store downtown, and I don't have a whole lot of info on it. I wish he'd let me write something on Deadly Nightshade."
"Wait, Deadly Nightshade?" Mikey questioned with excitement. "Aw man, you're interested too!? Deadly Nightshade's awesome! Too bad almost nobody believes in 'im! An article on a superhero would be AWESOME!"
"Vigilante is the most accurate term." Donnie corrected, the ghost of a smile on his face. "And yes, it would be, ahem, awesome. But because almost nobody believes Deadly Nightshade exists, I can't write any articles on them. Instead, I have to do articles on pet stores and restaurants…"
"That's harsh, dude." The freckled turtle frowned. "But maybe I can help on the pet store stuff."
"Are you still obsessing over Deadly Nightshade, Donnie?"
Donatello raised his head up at the female voice and cast his auburn eyes on the redhead decked in yellow walking up to his desk. A snort came out of his nostrils as he crossed his arms and looked indignant of the woman questioning him. "Obsessing is too strong of a word, April. But it would be better to write about than the junk I'm stuck with."
Michelangelo stared at the redhead and gasped lightly. "Hey, wait, April? As in April O'Neil, the TV reporter? Whoa, you look even prettier in-person! I'm Mikey!"
"Nice to meet you, Mikey." April greeted before turning to Donatello, a sly grin on her face. "Let me guess, Burne shot you down on the vigilante article idea."
"Oh, how did you guess?" The bespectacled turtle asked with a voice oozing with sarcasm. "I mean, seriously, is a pet store grand opening more important than the fact that there are crime sprees being stopped by a costumed mystery hero? What is Burne thinking?"
"How do you know they're a hero?" The redhead questioned skeptically. "For all we know, they could be a villain, too."
"I don't see it that way." Donnie argued. "So, what brings you here, April? Are you here to tally up your stories against mine?"
"Not today." April opened up her coat pocket and pulled out what looked like two invitations, both presenting elegant cursive writing. Donatello tilted his head and wondered what they were for before the woman continued, "Tonight's a charity event at the Olizweski manor. I was going to go with Vern, but he got the flu and dropped out at the last second. So I'm giving the extra one to you."
Donnie glanced away and sighed, fiddling with his papers while Mikey played with the plastic alligator decorating the desk. "I don't know, April…fancy parties aren't exactly my forte."
"Well, I mean, Chief Raphael and Mayor Hamato are going to be there. I know you've been hounding the former for info on the vigilante and the crime rates, but if you don't want to…"
At the mention of the chief and the mayor, Donatello snapped his head towards April and promptly snatched the extra invitation from her. "All right, I'll go! But just long enough to interview the chief and the mayor."
"Great! See you there!"