Author's comments: Welcome to chapter 3! [trumpets sound] Well, without
further ado, let's get on with the fiction, shall we?
Reinbeauchaser: Of course the turtles and their master will always be shining pillars of honour, virtue and all-around good guy-ness, but at the same time, they're still TEENAGE mutant ninja turtles. Splinter, naughty, you ask, well as my grand dad always says 'when I stop appreciating a fine young lass, bury me!'. But I think you may have added your own lecherous slant to the sensei's intentions. Better for a mature minded elder like himself to dress her then his somewhat female-deprived sons!
Also, I've edited this chapter to shorten my run-on sentences at your advice, so I hope it goes smoother for the readers
Disclaimer: I hereby solemnly swear I do not own any details of the TMNT franchise, including characters, events, places or names. Once again, the OC Madeline is the only factor of this little flight of fancy which belongs to me. Don't sue me, pretty please.
Notes: Unlike -------- which appears to mark the end of a chapter, this ===== represents a change in POV.
-- CHAPTER 3 --
For the blind, it is hard to define the moment of awakening. Madeline always thought it to be that brief time when dreams fade and release their hold on the mind. Mundane awareness rekindled and all too suddenly, her senses began to bombard her with all the sounds and smells of her bedroom.
Except that this time, instead of the familiar aroma of lavender potpourri on her bedside table, the young woman inhaled another smell. One which went unrecognised. It coiled in the back of her brain, just out of reach as she lay there and breathed deeply, trying to figure out just what it was...
Sandalwood incense?
This detail about her surroundings ignited a curiosity which made Madeline quickly forget about being afraid. She rolled over onto her side to brush a hand questing over the cotton bed sheets, reaching out to fumble for more clues. Her fingertips met cool, solid wood, and she began to investigates its surface. Making out the known shapes of a bedside lamp, an alarm clock, a book and a glass of what she could only assume was water.
She also discovered that the mattress she was laying on wasn't on any frame, instead it sat straight on the cold floor, which lead her to believe the bedside 'table' was indeed a small box or some sort of tray turned on its end.
Sitting up, propping her elbows underneath her brought a host of unexpected sensations to her nerves. Most of them painful. Madeline hissed through clenched teeth as her shoulders ached and her head throbbed. Ever resilient, the girl sat up and stretched her feet off the edge of the futon. She winced at first as the bitter chill of the uncarpeted floor bit into her bare feet. But she held fast, using the sharp clarity of the cold to clear her buzzing head.
As she sat there, she noticed another thing: her legs were bare. Quickly running her hands over her body from the toes up, she discovered her wet jeans, t-shirt and jacket from the park were gone. They had been replaced with a dry, but not very warm, robe of some description which tied around her waist with a thick fabric belt and was just long enough to cover her naked dignity.
A hot blush raged like wild fire across her cheeks at the thought of some one undressing her, laying her body bare to their eyes. She even stopped for a moment to think about it, trying to decide if she felt any different or there was any sort of soreness. She concentrated for a good five minutes before deciding she didn't –feel-- like she had been violated and that was good enough.
"Hello?" she called quietly into the room, only now thinking of the fact she may not be alone. A moment passed, then another and no answer came.
Awkwardly, groping all around her as she went, Madeline got to her hands and knees then, onto numb and tingling legs which protested the movement. She had to stand very still to let a bout of light-headedness pass. Picking a direction she shuffled forward. She hunched a little to keep one arm sweeping close to the floor for any tripping hazards and another waving around idiotically infront of her face so as not to walk into a wall.
The first barrier she came to was a bookcase, small, only about waist height. Simple boards for top and bottom, sides and shelves, filled left to right with books of all sizes and thickness. As she ran her fingers down some of the spines, Madeline discovered most of them well read if the deep creases in the covers were any indication. Working her way left along a wall, her she felt cloth under her fingers. Upon straightening and feeling around, she determined it was some sort of banner or wall tapestry. Turning one corner of the room, she finally felt her fingers curl around the edge of a door frame and quickly sought out the handle.
When pushing or pulling proved fruitless, Madeline tried leaning her weight against it and almost fell over as it slid sideways into the recess. Taking her slow, waving, shuffling, kata out into what could only be the hallway, she found it narrow and dead-ended. There was another non-sliding door a few steps to her right at the end.
So going left, she felt her way down the aisle, finding it opened up in this direction. Bench seats and a kitchen table reminiscent of a caravan or camper van were set up. Was she on some sort of mobile vehicle? Did that mean who ever had her was a traveller? Oh god, she could be outside of New York by now or further, with no way of knowing how long she had been asleep!
The sound of a television's white noise floated to her ears from up ahead, enticing her to keep going. An inspection of the wall on her left yielded another door. The air here felt colder, and she wondered it if led outside or into a larger room.
Bracing both hands on either side of the doorway, she called out again, hoping to catch the attention of the TV viewer.
"Hello? Is anyone there?"
======
Truth be told, Leonardo was a sucker for late night infomercials. For some reason, the droning, monotonous banter between the sale-persons set at a nice low volume level provided a mundane and soothing background lull. It easily tempted him into sleep. No matter how uncomfortable the trashed couch was.
Man, he thought gingerly as he tossed and turned. Rolling to face the television screen he stretched to remove the kinks from his spine. I'm glad we didn't make her sleep on this thing! He wasn't too interested in the Ab- tronic equipment the grotesquely buff gym instructor was trying to convince the viewers they couldn't live without. Instead the bored teen eyed his twin katanas laying on the floor in the sheaths, piled on top of his pads, belt and bandana. Maybe he could polish the blades again?
Suddenly, his senses pricked, honed from a lifetime as a ninjitsu disciple and he felt the presence of another close by. Tensing beneath the blanket in case he were about to engage in battle, Leonardo was startled to hear a soft, feminine voice call out from the direction of the old railway carriages: "Hello? Is anyone there?"
It's HER! The realisation went off like fireworks in his mind and the young mutant leapt from the couch. Tossing the blanket to the floor Leo stared at the sight of her standing there in the doorway of the kitchen car.
In the dimness, by the flickering bluish light of the television screen, she seemed eerily gothic. Her pale skin practically glowed by the only light source and her dark hair cascaded in thick dark masses over her shoulders. Master Splinter's robe was barely enough to cover her from his eyes, the collar gaped slightly to shown a deep swath of creamy skin from collarbone to the valley between her breasts. He hadn't gotten a good look at her standing before, so he wasn't sure if she was short or tall, but the bottom hem riding high on her thighs gave the illusion of her porcelain legs being long and lean.
Leonardo gulped and immediately felt the same heat which had burnt his senses earlier that night discovering her open fly return to sear his cheeks. For once he was thankful for the dark green skin to hide the discolouration then quickly kicked himself for forgetting it didn't matter. She couldn't see it even if the blush was visible after all.
Mustering his voice and pleased to find it sounded steadier then he felt, the turtle replied. "Hold on, miss, that's sort of a tricky step down..."
----------
Late at night, alone and barely dressed! [gasp] What will Leonardo do? A ninja has to retain his chivalry, doesn't he?
More to come! Stay tuned! -QA
Reinbeauchaser: Of course the turtles and their master will always be shining pillars of honour, virtue and all-around good guy-ness, but at the same time, they're still TEENAGE mutant ninja turtles. Splinter, naughty, you ask, well as my grand dad always says 'when I stop appreciating a fine young lass, bury me!'. But I think you may have added your own lecherous slant to the sensei's intentions. Better for a mature minded elder like himself to dress her then his somewhat female-deprived sons!
Also, I've edited this chapter to shorten my run-on sentences at your advice, so I hope it goes smoother for the readers
Disclaimer: I hereby solemnly swear I do not own any details of the TMNT franchise, including characters, events, places or names. Once again, the OC Madeline is the only factor of this little flight of fancy which belongs to me. Don't sue me, pretty please.
Notes: Unlike -------- which appears to mark the end of a chapter, this ===== represents a change in POV.
-- CHAPTER 3 --
For the blind, it is hard to define the moment of awakening. Madeline always thought it to be that brief time when dreams fade and release their hold on the mind. Mundane awareness rekindled and all too suddenly, her senses began to bombard her with all the sounds and smells of her bedroom.
Except that this time, instead of the familiar aroma of lavender potpourri on her bedside table, the young woman inhaled another smell. One which went unrecognised. It coiled in the back of her brain, just out of reach as she lay there and breathed deeply, trying to figure out just what it was...
Sandalwood incense?
This detail about her surroundings ignited a curiosity which made Madeline quickly forget about being afraid. She rolled over onto her side to brush a hand questing over the cotton bed sheets, reaching out to fumble for more clues. Her fingertips met cool, solid wood, and she began to investigates its surface. Making out the known shapes of a bedside lamp, an alarm clock, a book and a glass of what she could only assume was water.
She also discovered that the mattress she was laying on wasn't on any frame, instead it sat straight on the cold floor, which lead her to believe the bedside 'table' was indeed a small box or some sort of tray turned on its end.
Sitting up, propping her elbows underneath her brought a host of unexpected sensations to her nerves. Most of them painful. Madeline hissed through clenched teeth as her shoulders ached and her head throbbed. Ever resilient, the girl sat up and stretched her feet off the edge of the futon. She winced at first as the bitter chill of the uncarpeted floor bit into her bare feet. But she held fast, using the sharp clarity of the cold to clear her buzzing head.
As she sat there, she noticed another thing: her legs were bare. Quickly running her hands over her body from the toes up, she discovered her wet jeans, t-shirt and jacket from the park were gone. They had been replaced with a dry, but not very warm, robe of some description which tied around her waist with a thick fabric belt and was just long enough to cover her naked dignity.
A hot blush raged like wild fire across her cheeks at the thought of some one undressing her, laying her body bare to their eyes. She even stopped for a moment to think about it, trying to decide if she felt any different or there was any sort of soreness. She concentrated for a good five minutes before deciding she didn't –feel-- like she had been violated and that was good enough.
"Hello?" she called quietly into the room, only now thinking of the fact she may not be alone. A moment passed, then another and no answer came.
Awkwardly, groping all around her as she went, Madeline got to her hands and knees then, onto numb and tingling legs which protested the movement. She had to stand very still to let a bout of light-headedness pass. Picking a direction she shuffled forward. She hunched a little to keep one arm sweeping close to the floor for any tripping hazards and another waving around idiotically infront of her face so as not to walk into a wall.
The first barrier she came to was a bookcase, small, only about waist height. Simple boards for top and bottom, sides and shelves, filled left to right with books of all sizes and thickness. As she ran her fingers down some of the spines, Madeline discovered most of them well read if the deep creases in the covers were any indication. Working her way left along a wall, her she felt cloth under her fingers. Upon straightening and feeling around, she determined it was some sort of banner or wall tapestry. Turning one corner of the room, she finally felt her fingers curl around the edge of a door frame and quickly sought out the handle.
When pushing or pulling proved fruitless, Madeline tried leaning her weight against it and almost fell over as it slid sideways into the recess. Taking her slow, waving, shuffling, kata out into what could only be the hallway, she found it narrow and dead-ended. There was another non-sliding door a few steps to her right at the end.
So going left, she felt her way down the aisle, finding it opened up in this direction. Bench seats and a kitchen table reminiscent of a caravan or camper van were set up. Was she on some sort of mobile vehicle? Did that mean who ever had her was a traveller? Oh god, she could be outside of New York by now or further, with no way of knowing how long she had been asleep!
The sound of a television's white noise floated to her ears from up ahead, enticing her to keep going. An inspection of the wall on her left yielded another door. The air here felt colder, and she wondered it if led outside or into a larger room.
Bracing both hands on either side of the doorway, she called out again, hoping to catch the attention of the TV viewer.
"Hello? Is anyone there?"
======
Truth be told, Leonardo was a sucker for late night infomercials. For some reason, the droning, monotonous banter between the sale-persons set at a nice low volume level provided a mundane and soothing background lull. It easily tempted him into sleep. No matter how uncomfortable the trashed couch was.
Man, he thought gingerly as he tossed and turned. Rolling to face the television screen he stretched to remove the kinks from his spine. I'm glad we didn't make her sleep on this thing! He wasn't too interested in the Ab- tronic equipment the grotesquely buff gym instructor was trying to convince the viewers they couldn't live without. Instead the bored teen eyed his twin katanas laying on the floor in the sheaths, piled on top of his pads, belt and bandana. Maybe he could polish the blades again?
Suddenly, his senses pricked, honed from a lifetime as a ninjitsu disciple and he felt the presence of another close by. Tensing beneath the blanket in case he were about to engage in battle, Leonardo was startled to hear a soft, feminine voice call out from the direction of the old railway carriages: "Hello? Is anyone there?"
It's HER! The realisation went off like fireworks in his mind and the young mutant leapt from the couch. Tossing the blanket to the floor Leo stared at the sight of her standing there in the doorway of the kitchen car.
In the dimness, by the flickering bluish light of the television screen, she seemed eerily gothic. Her pale skin practically glowed by the only light source and her dark hair cascaded in thick dark masses over her shoulders. Master Splinter's robe was barely enough to cover her from his eyes, the collar gaped slightly to shown a deep swath of creamy skin from collarbone to the valley between her breasts. He hadn't gotten a good look at her standing before, so he wasn't sure if she was short or tall, but the bottom hem riding high on her thighs gave the illusion of her porcelain legs being long and lean.
Leonardo gulped and immediately felt the same heat which had burnt his senses earlier that night discovering her open fly return to sear his cheeks. For once he was thankful for the dark green skin to hide the discolouration then quickly kicked himself for forgetting it didn't matter. She couldn't see it even if the blush was visible after all.
Mustering his voice and pleased to find it sounded steadier then he felt, the turtle replied. "Hold on, miss, that's sort of a tricky step down..."
----------
Late at night, alone and barely dressed! [gasp] What will Leonardo do? A ninja has to retain his chivalry, doesn't he?
More to come! Stay tuned! -QA