Disclaimer: I do not own the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles or any of its
affiliates. I do, however, own Sasha, so you can't have her.
VI
The clothes the turtles had given Sasha had once belonged to their friend April O'Neil. The pants didn't have a hole in them for her tail. Sasha frowned as she examined the seam. She wished she had a knife or something so that she could make neat hole for her tail to go through, but there was nothing sharp in the bathroom. Sighing, she took hold of the pants on either side of the seam and gave a short, firm yank. The seam on the sweatpants ripped apart easily. She pulled the pants on and her tail snaked through the hole in the back with no problem. She grinned, proud that she was able to solve her own problems without calling out for help.
She then yanked the tank top she had been given over her head and looked at her self in the mirror. Her silver hair hung tangled around her face. At least it was clean. She wondered vaguely where she would find a hairbrush in an apartment housed by four hairless turtles. She settled on just running her fingers through her hair and hoping that it would detangle as it dried.
She opened the bathroom door to find Michelangelo sitting outside, waiting for her. "Hey," he said as she stepped out. "Everyone else is waiting for you in Don's lab."
"Alright," she said, pulling at a very stubborn tangle in her hair. "Show the way."
Donatello's lab was through a door in the infirmary. There were pieces of metal and machines everywhere, as well as tables full of glass beakers and bottles of chemicals. Donatello, Leonardo and Raphael were all surrounding desk with a computer on it.
"Can I see your necklace?" Donatello asked.
Sasha frowned. "You see with your eyes, not your hands."
Donatello returned the frown. "I'm not going to steal it, I just want a closer look."
"Alright then." Sasha walked over and knelt down in front of Donatello. "You can't touch it, but here..." She reached up, grabbed hold of her Token and carefully pulled the necklace off over her head. Donatello watched dumb- founded.
"How did you do that?" he cried. "That chain was nowhere near long enough to fit over your head."
Sasha shrugged. "I just took it off. Here." She held out her hand, the Token in her palm. It was the first time Sasha had ever actually seen it besides in a mirror, but it seemed as if she had seen it many times before. The Token was heavier in her hand that it was around her neck, like it was making itself weigh more because it wasn't where it belonged.
Donatello moved his face very closely to it and asked her to rotate the Token slowly. She did so. The symbols sparkled brightly, like they were speaking volumes to her—volumes that she didn't understand a word of. "And you have no idea what these symbols mean?" Donatello asked.
Sasha shook her head.
"They look sort of like Hebrew characters," Donatello said. "But different in some way. Do you remember if you speak Hebrew?"
Sasha shrugged. "I don't know."
Donatello pursed his lips together in thought. "They don't look like normal Hebrew letters though. They have too many loops and curves in them...do you mind if I take a few pictures of this?" he asked. "I can post them on the Internet and see if anyone can give me any info about them."
"Go ahead, and do what you want," Sasha said. "You just can't take my Token."
"He gets it already," Raph snapped. "'Don't touch my Token, don't touch my Token'. God, you sound like a broken record."
Sasha's eyes suddenly flashed and she glared up at Raph. "You'd better watch it," she told him, her voice cold and full of authority. "You shouldn't talk to me that way."
Raph raised an eyebrow and snorted in contempt, but Leo stopped him before he could say anything else. "Cool it, Raph," Leo ordered. "She has the right to say whether people can touch her necklace or not."
Raph glared at his older brother for a few moments, then stomped out of the room.
"What's his problem?" Sasha asked as she watched him leave.
"He has issues," Donatello murmured, so quietly that Sasha was sure that no one was supposed to hear.
"Raph doesn't like it when people repeat directions over and over again. And he doesn't like to be told what to do," Leo explained.
"He has issues," Donatello repeated, getting up and grabbing a camera off the shelf.
VI
The clothes the turtles had given Sasha had once belonged to their friend April O'Neil. The pants didn't have a hole in them for her tail. Sasha frowned as she examined the seam. She wished she had a knife or something so that she could make neat hole for her tail to go through, but there was nothing sharp in the bathroom. Sighing, she took hold of the pants on either side of the seam and gave a short, firm yank. The seam on the sweatpants ripped apart easily. She pulled the pants on and her tail snaked through the hole in the back with no problem. She grinned, proud that she was able to solve her own problems without calling out for help.
She then yanked the tank top she had been given over her head and looked at her self in the mirror. Her silver hair hung tangled around her face. At least it was clean. She wondered vaguely where she would find a hairbrush in an apartment housed by four hairless turtles. She settled on just running her fingers through her hair and hoping that it would detangle as it dried.
She opened the bathroom door to find Michelangelo sitting outside, waiting for her. "Hey," he said as she stepped out. "Everyone else is waiting for you in Don's lab."
"Alright," she said, pulling at a very stubborn tangle in her hair. "Show the way."
Donatello's lab was through a door in the infirmary. There were pieces of metal and machines everywhere, as well as tables full of glass beakers and bottles of chemicals. Donatello, Leonardo and Raphael were all surrounding desk with a computer on it.
"Can I see your necklace?" Donatello asked.
Sasha frowned. "You see with your eyes, not your hands."
Donatello returned the frown. "I'm not going to steal it, I just want a closer look."
"Alright then." Sasha walked over and knelt down in front of Donatello. "You can't touch it, but here..." She reached up, grabbed hold of her Token and carefully pulled the necklace off over her head. Donatello watched dumb- founded.
"How did you do that?" he cried. "That chain was nowhere near long enough to fit over your head."
Sasha shrugged. "I just took it off. Here." She held out her hand, the Token in her palm. It was the first time Sasha had ever actually seen it besides in a mirror, but it seemed as if she had seen it many times before. The Token was heavier in her hand that it was around her neck, like it was making itself weigh more because it wasn't where it belonged.
Donatello moved his face very closely to it and asked her to rotate the Token slowly. She did so. The symbols sparkled brightly, like they were speaking volumes to her—volumes that she didn't understand a word of. "And you have no idea what these symbols mean?" Donatello asked.
Sasha shook her head.
"They look sort of like Hebrew characters," Donatello said. "But different in some way. Do you remember if you speak Hebrew?"
Sasha shrugged. "I don't know."
Donatello pursed his lips together in thought. "They don't look like normal Hebrew letters though. They have too many loops and curves in them...do you mind if I take a few pictures of this?" he asked. "I can post them on the Internet and see if anyone can give me any info about them."
"Go ahead, and do what you want," Sasha said. "You just can't take my Token."
"He gets it already," Raph snapped. "'Don't touch my Token, don't touch my Token'. God, you sound like a broken record."
Sasha's eyes suddenly flashed and she glared up at Raph. "You'd better watch it," she told him, her voice cold and full of authority. "You shouldn't talk to me that way."
Raph raised an eyebrow and snorted in contempt, but Leo stopped him before he could say anything else. "Cool it, Raph," Leo ordered. "She has the right to say whether people can touch her necklace or not."
Raph glared at his older brother for a few moments, then stomped out of the room.
"What's his problem?" Sasha asked as she watched him leave.
"He has issues," Donatello murmured, so quietly that Sasha was sure that no one was supposed to hear.
"Raph doesn't like it when people repeat directions over and over again. And he doesn't like to be told what to do," Leo explained.
"He has issues," Donatello repeated, getting up and grabbing a camera off the shelf.