FF: HEY YA'LL! I'm not dead! 8D Okay, I know a bunch of you are going to kill me for not writing more on my other chapters, but I've been sitting on this particular story for a while and I have to put it out here.
FF: Now before you start reading, remember this: I started this a while ago. My writing will (hopefully) get better as the story goes on, but please be nice with whatever criticism you offer and I'll be as respectful to what you say in return. Oh who am i kidding I'll be nice anyway :)
FF: Moving on, please review to tell me what you think. I'll update every week if I can since I've already typed a bunch of chapters.
(P.S. 6/6/14-8/15/14 Hey there people, Fireflare here. I'm working on rewriting/improving this so I'll be editing a bunch a chapters and you'll see a lot of change. But still, enjoy the story!)
It was a gorgeous summer day outside- the sun was gleaming proudly, easily shining past the few clouds and their pitiful attempts to stop its radiance. The warm light shone on the grassy fields of a school, highlighting the trees and flowers that swayed to the gentle rhythm of the wind.
All this was seen from behind a thick pane of glass, observed longingly in hazel eyes that mixed chocolate brown, gold, and a shimmer of green together. The girl that the eyes belonged to was a brunette, locks falling to her waist.
Her lean body slumped partially over her desk as her eyes stared outside, wishing she could escape from the boring math lesson. Speaking of her math lesson, she turned her gaze back to where the teacher was writing a problem on the board.
The problem was fairly easy and, after a moment of scribbling in her notebook, she discovered the answer. At least this part of the course she was okay at, other times the teachers went way too fast and she was too shy to ask for help.
She stifled a sigh and felt her eyes slide once again to the window that tempted to steal her away into a world of fantasy. However, that was not to be sadly.
"Liza?"
The seventeen year old jerked upright and stared at the teacher, her muscles tense with alarm as she bit back a squeak of surprise. "Yes?" She managed to ask, painfully aware of the stares of her classmates as her pale skin flushed in response.
"May you please tell me what the value of X is?" The teacher asked, seemingly unaware of the imperious and intimidating stares that burned into the poor girl that was unfortunately stuck at the center of attention.
She swallowed hard and answered uncertainly, "Um, I think it's 19..."
"Correct! Well done." The teacher praised her, moving back to the board to write down more problems.
Liza gathered her courage and then locked eyes those who stared at her, feeling relieved when they quickly averted their gazes. If there was one good thing about that class it was that she could make them stop staring, at least for a little bit.
Satisfied that most of the stares were gone, she looked at her textbook and felt a small pang.
She never liked to be stared at, it was too frightening to have all that attention on her, though she'd probably let close friends get away with it. But what friends did she have? She just moved to New York City eight months ago and still had yet to make a friend.
Why, you ask? Simple. Liza was shy and hesitant to open up- Not exactly a friend-making recipe, She thought to herself, sighing.
Plus, it was somewhat her own fault. Those kids, or all those who she'd met, were interested in things that Liza found totally and utterly ridiculous or useless. She found no reason to stick around them and therefore isolated herself, speaking only when spoken to.
The bell letting out a shrill ringing startled the brunette out of her thoughts, announcing the end of the class and the school day.
She let a small smile of relief slip onto her face and quickly began packing everything up, stuffing the notebook a bit haphazardly into her already stuffed backpack. She slid her arms through the straps and quickly slipped out of the room, managing to get out near the front of the mob racing for the door.
She weaved effortlessly between the crowds, every kid who was in her school was a veteran at crowd-weaving, and burst out the doors, skipping the last two steps on the stairs that lead to the parking lot. She hurried over to a silver sedan, tossing her bag in before hopping into the backseat herself.
"Hey Mom." The brunette greeted, smiling tiredly at the woman in the driver's seat.
Said woman, sporting graying black hair and kind brown eyes, returned the girl's smile. "Hey sweetie, how was school?"
"It was school. Crowded and boring." Liza shrugged and, after clipping on her seat belt, she leaned against the door and stared out the window as her mother began the drive home.
The sky was already darkening, the New York smog making even a pretty cheerful blue sky fade into grayish smoke colors.
Such a thought saddened her, and her sharp eyes searched above the rooftops for at least a glimmer of blue or light. Instead, a flurry of shapes zipped across and over the rooftops and vanished.
She lifted her head in surprise, craning her neck to see better. However, her efforts were in vain as she didn't catch another glimpse. She narrowed her eyes, wondering who on Earth would be crazy enough to-
Her breath caught. Could it be- No, no it couldn't be. She liked to be alone.
But still, who would run across rooftops? That was dangerous!
The brunette sighed and rested her head on her arms as she stared out the window, giving up on seeing the figures. After all, thinking about it would get her nowhere.
"We're home!" Her mother announced cheerfully, sounding relieved as she reached over to grab her purse from the passenger's seat.
Liza rubbed her eyes, having spent most of the drive daydreaming, and blinked up at her home.
It was a nice home- two levels, painted a soft red with pale red shutters folded to the side of the windows. Her favorite part, though was the flower garden that nearly always bloomed lushly and thick as a jungle with gorgeous blossoms and flowers.
She relaxed at the familiar sight and, grabbing her backpack, scooted out of the car and walked to the door at her mother's side. "Do you mind if I just hurry upstairs for a bit? I need to relax from school or I'll explode."
"Another bad day?" The raven haired woman looked sadly at her daughter as she unlocked the front door. At the girl's shrug, she sighed and allowed, "Alright, but not too long. I'm sure you have homework to do."
"Thanks Mom!" The brunette hugged the older woman tightly and then skipped through the door and up the stairs to her room, calling, "I'll help out with dinner tonight too!"
"Thank you, Liza. I need all the help I can get." Her mother chuckled, setting her bag down and smiling.
Safely tucked away in her room, the seventeen year old busied herself with taking out her homework and placing it in a neat pile with a sticky note on it saying "To Do." Ignoring that, she then moved to her bed to pull out her sketchbook from underneath, a plain black cover and back hiding the drawings within.
Liza smiled gently as she flicked through the pages, hopping up onto her bed and nestling herself in the corner. Her drawings varied from Transformer fan art, to original creatures on some foreign planet, to swirls and designs drawn in ink. When she reached the back pages of the sketchbook, she closed it, her expression falling noticeably.
In the sketchbook's back was where she vented her dark emotions, she rarely looked there unless she was sad and no one had EVER been allowed to even see her sketchbook, for fear those drawings would be discovered.
Shaking off lingering depression about what inspired those sad drawings, she flipped to a blank page and began to scribble aimlessly, then happily, then intensely as ideas began to appear in her mind.
She was so engrossed in her sketching, so wrapped up in her world of fantasy that she poured out onto the pages, she didn't hear her mother call up that she had to leave and she didn't notice as the minutes flew by until two hours later.
The brunette stretched her stiff limbs, cracking her back a little, and placed her sketchbook back in its rightful place under the bed. She slid off said bed, and froze as her gaze fell onto the clock.
It was 5:03 PM.
She yelped in shock and rushed downstairs. "Mom! I'm sorry I forgot to help with dinner, I'll get started right-" Her steps slowed as she reached the bottom of the stairs, realizing her mother wasn't answering.
"Mom?" She asked, looking around hopefully, wondering if her mother had just taken a nap or something. She didn't bother to call for her father- he was away on a business trip. He didn't go away as often as before, and he was still arguing with his boss to do more office work so he could spend more time with his family, but she still missed him all the same.
She wandered into the kitchen, scanning it for any sign of life, before she noticed a note written on a bright blue sticky note left on the counter. It said:
Just in case you didn't hear me, I'm off to the store to pick up a few things and I have to drop something off for work. I may or may not be able to come home tonight, so don't wait for me to make dinner. Love you!
-Mommy
(P.S. Please do the laundry for me. Thank you, sweetie!)
Liza sighed, fingering the note tiredly.
This happened often enough. Her mom frequently had unfinished work stuff to take care of and would have to stay at her work's spare rooms for overnight employees because of how late she worked.
It was also normal for her mother to go off on an errand and leave some sort of chore for her to do: namely the dishes and the laundry. It was a tiring rather irritating routine, but what could she do about it?
No use complaining, though she did plenty of that in her mind. Besides, at least it wasn't the dishes this time!
Huffing slightly to herself, Liza dragged the laundry bag down the stairs to the back hallway where the washing machine, dryer, and back door was. She plopped the clothes in bunch by bunch, grunted a bit with the heavy detergent gallons as she poured in the right amounts, turned on the water, and closed the lid.
Just after she pressed the start button, a sudden series of grunts, shouts, and growls erupted from her backyard, nearly giving the poor girl a heart attack. (Use your imagination for what the backyard looks like, I'm lazy right now.)
She jerked in shock and scrambled away from the back door, her heart beating rapidly as her mind feverishly tried to decipher what the bright flashes of light and clangs and scraping noises were.
It sounded like there was a fight outside her back door! A fight with metal weapons! Why would that be happening?! OH man, that sounded like that hurt!
The brunette pulled her knees to her chest and, shaking slightly, grabbed a nearby broom, holding it in front of her self like a sword, pointed toward the door. If anything came through that door she wondered if she'd die from fear right then and there.
Quivering in terror, she waited out a long ten minutes for the fight to culminate in a outraged roar, more clanging, more screams, then dragging and thumping noises that quickly faded. Then, after a moment, a loud THUD.
She refused to move, her mind still trying to comprehend that there had been a fight outside her door, still pointing the broom shakily. She swallowed hard, waiting for anything to signal danger, anything to signal that she should still be on guard.
Nothing. No sound. Maybe they left? Or maybe they were lying in wait for- what was that?
Liza cocked her head, struggling to figure out what that odd noise was. It wasn't gasping or footsteps...was it...moaning? Was someone hurt out there?
Growing even more worried and anxious by those ideas, the girl carefully stood. She inched her way to the door, brushing aside the curtain over the door's window ever so slowly to sneak a peek outside.
Her heart hammered even more inside her chest as she saw a few dark splatters of liquid that stained the grass and skid marks that tore the grass up. She flicked on the back light just above the door, tensing to run just in case someone was still around and didn't want any witnesses.
When nothing happened, she eased the wooden door open, still keeping the thin metal and glass secondary door shut. She looked around as much as she could, searching for danger, but couldn't see anything resembling a threat.
She cracked open the secondary door, listening hard as her eyes tried to pinpoint the location the moaning was coming from. Well, had come from. It was all quiet now.
She opened her mouth the ask if the person was alright, but her throat was so tight with fear she couldn't even manage a squeak. So, building up her courage, the slim girl cautiously slid out from behind the last barrier to the night. She tiptoed her way closer, trying to avoid the blood spatters, her gaze flicking about constantly for fear of being attacked unawares.
She gasped and jerked back as her foot, stepping forward, made a plip'ing noise as it came into contact with the ground. Her hazel eyes grew wide in horror, her free hand not holding the broom covering her mouth, as she realized what she'd stepped in...and saw where it came from.
Before her lay sprawled on its side a dark green, humanoid like turtle. A red mask was tied around its eyes, which were closed, and the ragged mask tails were torn and spread out wildly.
Its breathing was pained and the reason for that was obvious by what she had stepped in, and by its appearance.
A gash ran along its plastron, not managing more than a shallow groove in the armoring, but causing its heavily muscled right arm, also affected by the gash, to bleed rapidly. Another gash sliced into its side between the plastron and shell, not too wide but deep and bleeding dangerously quick. Bruises, scrapes, and cuts decorated its arms and legs with a thin slash across its right cheek that slowly oozed blood.
Despite her shock, pity washed through the girl, making her tremble with the intensity of both emotions.
The poor creature... If it wasn't unconscious it would have been in such pain! Who would have hurt it-?
She paused in her mental thought process, tilting her head as she observed the wounded being. She shouldn't keep calling it an it. Well...he looked like a male.
He twitched in his sleep and let out a small groan, his eyes screwing shut tighter.
Liza stared at him, feeling her empathy kick in with a vengeance, and dropped to her knees, letting the broom fall from her grasp. She reached out, slowly, cautiously, and ever so gently touched the turtle's forehead.
He groaned slightly, turning his head before falling limp once again.
She pulled her hand back, her eyes becoming pained and worried. The poor thing...she had to help him! She couldn't leave him like this!
Well...technically she could...it would be safer that way...it was probably the best option for her...but, not the best option for him.
No. She would help him. She couldn't bear to not help, especially due to his appearance. She had a soft spot for animals...and mutants it seemed.
The brunette carefully slid her arms underneath his and, using as much strength as she could muster, she began the struggle to drag the odd being into her house. Her method involved dragging him a few feet, resting, dragging a few more feet, resting, and so on.
It was successful as she did indeed manage to pull him into her house, though, the door was tricky- she accidentally banged his head on the door frame, earning an almost irritated moan of pain. "Sorry..."
When she finally finished the struggle to drag him inside her house and lay him on an old white couch in her living room, she collapsed in front of it, her arms and chest aching in pain.
Abruptly, the turtle's eyes snapped open and, just for a moment, sharp amber clashed against dark hazel. He blinked slowly at her, his eyes losing focus as they closed, and he slumped onto the couch, unconscious once more.
Liza, for her part, was frozen with her eyes wide open. Excitement zinged through her, along with panic.
She, a seventeen year old girl, was housing a wounded, bipedal, mutant turtle in her home, which, on closer examination, had japanese weapons tucked on its belt.
She opened her mouth, feeling about ready to hyperventilate, before it clicked. Wounded. He was hurt! He needed medical attention!
Letting out a woosh of air, she forced herself to her feet and trekked up the stairs to get medical supplies.
Thank goodness she had previous knowledge of medicine...and the internet.
3 Hours Later...
Raphael stirred, trying to move his arm, only to have a stab of vicious pain make him freeze. He growled in irritation.
Those Purple Dragons must've gotten him pretty good if it hurt this bad. Ugh, once he got home Leo was going to be flipping out and Donny was probably going to lecture him-
Wait.
He shifted a little, trying to figure out what exactly he was lying on.
That wasn't grass. That wasn't grass. He wasn't outside! Where was he?!
He blinked open his eyes, using his (mostly) undamaged left arm to rub away the haze, and tensed.
He was in a house. A house. It was a very nice house, soft yellow wallpaper, a couch against the opposite wall from him, some windows with the shades pulled down, a few lamps here and there, and an entertainment center to the wall to his right. He was lying on a couch that was pressed against the wall behind him.
And, worst of all, sitting leaned against the couch opposite to him, was a human girl surrounded by a basket and piles of clothes.
Her hazel eyes flicked up to him and widened in...relief? What?
"Oh thank goodness..." She breathed, letting the shirt she was folding fall to the floor as she pressed one hand to her chest. "I was afraid you weren't going to wake up. You lost quite a lot of blood."
This was just plain surreal. A human he'd never met before was worried? About him? Was he in the right dimension, or did he get hit on the head pretty hard?
Still trying to process the utter insanity of the situation, he could only manage an intelligent, "Wha...?"
The girl smiled reassuringly at him, though her eyes seemed to unable to focus on him for very long, always darting away. "I'm sorry, you're pretty confused, right? I mean, I know I would be." She chuckled nervously, a blush darkening her cheeks as she ducked her head and folded a shirt.
He stared at her incredulously before, when he tried to move, felt something against his skin. He turned as much as he could and saw that bandages had been wrapped around his arm, side, and wherever else there was a cut. There was also an icepack in a bowl beside the couch he was on.
"Oh! Yeah, I patched you up." When his gaze snapped back to her, she flushed more and shrank a little. "You were losing too much blood, I couldn't leave you there to die! Besides, I already knew a bit about medicine...and the internet helped out too."
A human like April and Casey? Could it be? Could there possibly be a chance that this little human was part of the extremely small group that could understand mutants?
Raph doubted it.
"Uh...thanks." He said, confused and suspicious and puzzled all at the same time.
"You're welcome. I'm just sorry I can't do more." She sent him a self-deprecating smile. "I'm a little rusty at the medicine stuff- haven't had to do it in a while."
"..."
"..."
"...you do realize that an injured, walking, talking, bipedal, mutant turtle is in your home, right?"
"Uh-huh."
"And you're doing laundry."
"Yep." She ended the word with a 'pop'.
"...laundry?"
"Yeah, why?" She looked up at him in confusion. "Do you want me to do something else?" She offered, setting a pile of finished clothes to the side and beginning to sort through another.
"Aren't you going to flip out, scream, or something?" He immediately regretted saying that the moment it left his mouth. What was he doing?! Was he trying to get her to freak out?!
"Oh." The girl paused for a moment, considering. "No, I already did that." She answered, flicking her hand dismissively.
"You already did?" It was his turn to look at her in confusion.
"Mm-hmm." She nodded, returning to the laundry. "When I finished bandaging you I went upstairs, realized the insanity of this, and practically flipped out for a bit. I hyperventilated a little, but once I calmed down, I was fine."
She shrugged. "My family's always been into weird science-fiction stuff, so I'm not as freaked out as I should be 'cause, in a really really vague way, I'm used to it." She explained.
"Huh..." He stared at her, wondering just what was wrong with this girl.
She had hazel eyes with brown, gold, and green in the irises, brown waist-length hair, white skin, and was a slim girl. She wore a dark sweatshirt and jeans, her shoes were off, revealing white socks as she sat crosslegged.
She looked normal enough. Maybe there was something wrong in her head...
"So...what's wrong with you?" Okay, so tact wasn't his strong suit...
"Excuse me?" The brunette looked taken aback as she stared at him in surprise.
"Most humans are normally freaking out."
"Oh." She seemed to relax as she realized he meant no harm in his question. "Well, I...I don't know what's wrong with me. But if being able to look deeper than the outside of someone before judging is wrong, I think everyone should have at least something wrong with them. It'd make the world a lot better..."
"Besides," She smiled again. "If you don't mind me saying, you're very-"
Oh great. She was going to say "different" or "strange" or, his personal favorite, "unique," wasn't she?
"-interesting."
...Huh. That was a new one.
His expression must've shown what he was thinking as the girl quickly elaborated, "Well, you yourself said it: I have an injured, walking, talking, bipedal, mutant turtle in my house. Of course this is interesting! You also have weapons! I think they're called sais, right?"
She pointed to the sharp blades lying just in front of the couch he was resting on.
Shocked that they were not in his belt and delighted that he could reclaim them, he eagerly reached down, (wincing at his injuries,) and tucked them back in their proper place. "How'd they end up on the floor?"
"I found them beside you when you were unconscious outside and assumed they were yours. After all, they match your mask color." She smiled slightly and gestured to said bandana.
He smirked a little, and shrugged. "I just like the color red."
The girl's eyes, so eager beforehand, seemed to dim with sadness. "So did a friend of mine." She murmured, looking down at the clothes.
"'Did'?" Raph repeated, raising an eye ridge.
She paused, staying silent for a moment. "I...I lost a very, very dear friend of mine a while ago. Red was her favorite color." She whispered, folding the laundry quietly.
There was silence. Raph didn't know how to respond as saying, 'sorry' just didn't seem enough and was far too cliche and overused, so the silence extended for a bit.
Eventually, the red banded turtle was sick of the awkward quiet and decided it was time to go home. He certainly didn't feel that rested and his injuries throbbed, (his inner Donatello urging him to rest,) but he didn't care. He'd had worse, he could make it home.
Using his left arm, he propped himself halfway up on the couch's armrest, swinging his legs over the edge. He carefully put his weight on his legs, testing their strength, and, when they felt stable enough, he straightened to his full height.
Ha! He could stand! Take that internal Donny-!
Then, through the satisfaction of being able to stand, the pain of is injuries stabbed through mercilessly.
He gasped and, clutching his side, began to fall as the vicious pain caused his legs to buckle from shock. However, his fall was abruptly terminated as something appeared under his right arm and firmly supported him.
Blinking down, he saw the brunette, her arm wrapped securely around him and her teeth gritted, taking on most of his weight.
'Goodbye pride, it was nice knowing you.'
"You don't have to-"
"I don't offer physical contact often. Take it while you've got the chance." She stated lowly, her face a dark red color as she looked anywhere but at him.
He was tempted to refuse, (he was the strong one, the unbeatable force,) but, feeling the agony in his side, he knew he needed the help and refusing it would get him no closer to getting home. "Whatever..." He muttered, making sure the resentment for needing help was clear in his tone.
The girl seemed to smile before beginning to gently lead him to the stairs to the couch's left. "What're you doing?" He hissed as his injuries protested.
"Taking you to my room." She answered, grunting when he halted, no longer allowing her to help him along.
"Your room." His voice was flat. (Hey, who said propriety is dead?)
"Yes, my room. I can't have my mom see you! She'd freak out!" The brunette urged him forward with a firm tug that was gentle enough to not jar his wounds.
Oh, that was why. He wasn't quite sure what unnerved him about going into her room, but pushed that into the back of his mind. It wasn't important at the moment.
When the two finally hobbled to the stairs, the girl started to sink to the ground, pulling a startled Raphael with her.
"What're you doing?!" He snapped, displeased with the direction change. "I thought we were going up the stairs."
"We are!" She answered quickly, seeming to shrink back a little from his sharp words. "It's just easier if we go on all fours."
"...what?"
"Like this," She slid out from under his arm and scampered up the stairs in a surprisingly efficient gallop. "See? It disperses your weight and therefore puts less strain on your injuries."
Ugh. Well at least if he was embarrassing himself like this there was an actual reason for it and the girl did it as well. He shook his head as he slowly followed the girl up- she was right, dispersing his weight made his injuries hurt a bit less.
The brunette somehow managed to persuade the red banded turtle to continue to crawl into her room and, once both were safely inside, she kicked the door shut behind them.
"C'mon." She put her arm around him again and, with some effort, helped him to his feet. "You need to rest."
He eased himself down on the bed where she'd set him, pausing a moment to examine it. "Your bed?" He asked incredulously. That unnerved feeling was back...
"Yeah, you sleep on my bed and I'll sleep on the floor or something." She nodded and pulled a blanket from her closet. "You want a blanket?"
"Uh, no thanks." The blanket already on the bed was warm enough just laying atop it.
She shrugged and, after getting a spare pillow and blankets, she constructed a bed for herself on the floor beside the bed he lay upon. She then, after warning him, turned off the lights and paused, allowing her eyes to adjust to the dark before crawling into her makeshift bed.
Things were quiet for a bit as Raph slowly felt himself unwinding as his body fought against his willpower to get him to sleep. He was just at the brink when a whisper alerted him.
"Hey, you awake?"
"I am."
"I, uh, I almost forgot." Slight shifting sounds. "My name's Liza."
Interesting name. "...Raphael."
"Cool. Well, goodnight Raphael." More noises as the brunette settled down for the night.
"Call me Raph...and...g'night...Liza."
(FF: Well, well, well. What an odd little human Raphie has found himself with. I hope he doesn't drive her away- I've got a story to tell!)