You ready for more? I sure am. The end is coming, and it's coming quick! I can feel it! :)
Disclaimer:…just pass the sexy Donny, and no one get's hurt…wields spoon menacingly…
Chapter Four
Gren sighed into the cold, frigid air, lightly observing the way his breath smoked away from his mouth and into the coolness of the atmosphere.
It was sunset, and in contemplation Gren couldn't help but peer at his watch. When exactly did she say she going to meet him here?…where ever "here" is…
He knew that he was in Central Park, but upon reaching his destination (a small clearing that he didn't even know existed) he knew that he would not be able to find his way back to civilization, not even if his life depended on it.
Nevertheless, he was here, and so, he waited, his hands shoved deep into his winter jacket. He watched the trees, allowing their stillness to relax him. Before he knew it, he was already deep in thought. If Centrice actually calling him wasn't abnormal enough, telling him to meet her on such short notice, was. Then, when he suggested a coffee shop or something, she declined, and instead, told him that she wanted to meet him somewhere a little more…private…
This still raised his eyebrows, even now.
After that she wasted no time in rallying off directions, so fast in fact that he had to scramble for paper to write them down. And then she just…stopped. When he asked her what this was all about she just replied by telling him to meet her here, and then "all of your questions will be answered."
Mysterious just wasn't the word for it…However, as this was an unexpected change in his "schedule" it did look more preferable than a dreary night alone. So far this phone call alone was the most exiting thing that had happened to him in a long while, which only went to show how dull his life really was. Therefore, his heart jumped at the opportunity to step out of his almost painful routine and into something a bit more, capricious. Taking his jacket in hand, he had eagerly followed her directions, leaving his house almost immediately after hanging up the phone.
Only to bring him to a place that could have been considered "the middle of nowhere," even though it was in the middle of Central park.
Nevertheless, upon arrival Gren couldn't help but whistle long and low.
'Geez, when she says 'private' she really means private.'
This part of Central part was literally deserted. Not a sound flowed from the trees nor the park itself, leaving Gren utterly alone and waiting.
Waiting for company.
Above him the sun began to leave the sky altogether. And in response, the nighttide made itself known, arching up from the other horizon in competition.
Gren frowned lightly upon observing the setting sun. He was not expecting to be out here after dark.
Not here…
Form what he heard; being in Central park after dark was just something that shouldn't be done. It was after dark that robbers and crack fiends wandered aimlessly, just looking for victims. Tall, but almost girlishly lanky, Gren knew he that he wouldn't stand a chance against those kinds of people. Therefore, when the sun's presence began to diminish in the sky, he began to get antsy.
Nevertheless, the night continued to creep forth, turning the daylight into shadows as the sun continued to set.
'Where is she?!'
He began to grow impatient with the girl, a little angry that she had made him come out only to wait for her.
'Five more minutes. That is all I can stand and then I'm lea-…'
That was all his mind was able to conjure before he heard the undeniable sound of rusting from the far off bush. His mind froze in panic at the infinite possibilities of who stood behind that bush…
'What if it's a robber?! Or, even worse, a 'gangsta?!' I need to get out of here!'
His mind made itself clear, immediately telling his feet to move. By then he was already half way on the other side of the field. Turning in horror, Gren watched as the bushes were finally parted, releasing a horrific, mind-eating, child-gobbling….Centrice?
"Oh!"
She jumped, startled by his presence, but overlooked his wild and fearful stand. "Sorry I took so long. Had a few things to take care of first." She stated easily, shoving her hands into her pockets as if observing the cold for the first time. Meanwhile, though, Gren blinked as rational thought returned to him. Leaning over, he tried to catch his breath, of which came in short, fretful, wheezes. Centrice blinked, finally truly looking at the doctor for the first time since entering the clearing.
"Um…are you OK?…Mr. Gren?" She strode over to him, worry evident in her eyes as she observed his shaking frame. Not really knowing what else she could do, she began to pat his back as he leaned over onto his knees. "Gren? Are you ok?"
"You scared me nearly half to death!" Was all he could get out before he finally just slumped downward, falling onto his butt rather awkwardly before watching her with wide eyes. Centrice followed him down, but did not sit. Instead she crouched to look him in the ghostly pale face.
"I'm sorry," She attempted, "I didn't mean to scare you…"
"No, it's fine." He offered, finally catching his breath from the huge scare that had seized it. "I'm alright."
Centrice watched as he stopped wheezing, his breath coming more normally as he stood. His dark hair fell into his eyes, as he then peered down and into her face with a slight curiosity.
"Now, about that call…"
Before he couldn't even continue, she seemed to do it for him, shoving her hands deep into her pockets once again as she grew nervous. Instantly, her mouth began to run a mile a minute.
"Oh, yeah, about that. I called you here for a very good reason, but actually don't know if I should have."
Upon seeing Gren nearly jump out of his skin over nothing, it made her doubt how good of an idea this really was. With everything she was planning to expose him too before the night was through, he just wouldn't make it.
"Maybe I shouldn't have called you. I just, I just-" She stumbled over her words, finally growing silent at the obsolete look he was giving her. Sheepishly, she feigned a wide grin while bringing her hand to the back of her head in innocence.
"So I'll be seeing you later then! Tootles!"
But before she could even move he already had her arm in a soft but sturdy grip.
"No, what is this about? You call me up out of no where, and then tell me to come here, only to tell me to go home?" He asked her, his brows furrowed with a heavy contemplation and a hint of annoyance. At that Centrice sighed, sliding her arm from his grip as she finally just gave in.
He asked for it…
"Fine. I need you're help." She stated simply, crossing her arms as she huffed out her request.
At that Gren's eyebrows shot up. He was not expecting that at all. "Really?" He asked, soaking in her pouting demeanor. "How so?"
At this Centrice sighed, all but sensing the awkward moments to come. Well, here goes…
"Dr. Gren-"
"Ah, you can just call me Gren." He stated, interrupting her.
At that she nodded before nervously continuing. "…Gren…earlier, I couldn't help but notice how a lot of people kept call you Dr. Homestead…Dr. Mikal Homestead…" She began, watching him clinically as he only nodded in recognition.
"Yes, that was my old name. I changed it to Gre-"
"Yeah, yeah. I can see that." She interrupted him this time, ceasing his insignificant badger, "That's not the point, though. The point is, out of pure curiosity I looked you up and found some very interesting things about you, Mikal. Your architectural history, for instance."
Gren blinked…This conversation was definitely not going as expected. Not at all.
"Centrice, I must say that I am a little thrown. What exactly are you trying to ask me?" For the umpteenth time that afternoon turned night, he furrowed his brows in confusing. And at that, Centrice nearly screamed.
This was way harder than she thought it would be.
However, as it was, she wouldn't have to say another word. The fates sent another to say them for her.
"What she is trying to inquire is whether or not you are the same Mikal Homestead that participated in constructing one of the buildings in lower downtown. A building by the name of 'AVTech.'"
Another figure broke from the bushes. This time, a much bigger figure. An up-collared trench coat and low sitting fedora hat blocking any view Gren could have gotten of the man's face, except for his eyes. Nevertheless, at the new figure's appearance, Gren took several steps back, his fear induced wheeze returning as he eyed bulky shadow, of which, joined Centrice's side.
"Look buddy, I don't want any trouble…" He started, backing up and shaking his head in an attempt to wear off the dark figure, but instead the figure only watched him lightly before turning to the girl he stood next to and shrugging. And in turn, Centrice only shrugged back.
Grenwatched the entire exchange in horror.
"Centrice? You know this guy?!" He all but squeaked, eyes wide as he watched the sinister character. He looked like a brute if he ever saw one. The coat around his body seemed to melt into the obvious muscle structure of his arms, but not before arching weirdly over the man's back. It was as if he was hunched over or something. Very strange. But nevertheless, Centrice nodded as if it was the most natural thing in the world.
"Well, yeah. Actually he's…"
"Centrice, we don't have the time for this." The figure warned, and at that, Centrice seemed to grow quiet as the figure continued his interrogation.
"Are you the same Mikal Homestead that assisted in the construction of the AVTech building?"
At the inquiry Gren blinked, clearly uncomfortable about talking with the strange and mysterious figure, but seeing no other reason not to answer.
"Actually, Yes. Me and my brothers…My brothers and I, we all designed and constructed that building."
At this the figure turned to Centrice and nodded, silently telling her what she knew she had to do.
After a moment of thought she finally stepped forward, gaining the attention of the lanky man once more.
"Well then you are the one we need." She stated simply, making sure she kept her voice as neutral and unthreatening as possible. The last thing she wanted to do now was scare him although her immediate mind told her that she was already too late.
"Need?" He asked, eyeing her unevenly, unsure of what to make out of the situation. "For what?"
"…Well, see, that part is hard to explain. We can't talk about it here, not now. You have to come back with us-"
"Oh no, oh no!" That was the last straw. "I am not going anywhere until you stop all of this mystery and tomfoolery and tell me what is…going…on-oh dear."
It was then that Gren eyes suddenly rolled into the back of his head as he promptly fainted. He hit the ground with a dull "thump."
Centrice turned, not really knowing the reason for his sudden fall-out, but she did have her suspicions. When she did turn though, her suspicions were all but confirmed. "Donny!"
"What?" He responded, shrugging lightly as he fanned himself with his fedora. "I was getting hot…and you know we don't have the time. So, come on!"
Wasting no time at all he replaced his hat before striding over to the unconscious body. Heftily, he heaved the tall form over his shoulder. Centrice nearly stuttered in response.
"We're kidnapping him?!"
Donatello froze.
"Well?…"
He looked at her doubtfully, slowly observing her own doubt before turning to the sky above, the stars just making themselves know against the darkness of the night.
"Well. Right now, we have no other choice…"
Coming back to earth, he looked the love of his life the eye and then turned his gaze to the limp form on his shoulder. Shifting its weight, he finally nodded in consent.
"I guess we are, then."
Don sighed, not really wanting to commit the crime of 'kidnapping' but as he said before, right now, they had no other choice.
"Let's go."
The first thing he felt was the cool dampness of a cloth as it caressed his aching head.
"…uhh…"
And then everything just came rushing back…His mind became boggled with confusion as several unfamiliar voices sounded out to him from the darkness of his closed lids.
"Dude, he's been out for a while…Do you think he's ok?"
"Well, he looks fine 'ta me…Right Don?"
"Well, I did a full diagnosis of him upon coming home. Nothing serious, just a bump on his head from the fall. Yeah, he should be just fine."
There was a pause.
"Well good. We need him in relatively good condition. We wouldn't want him forgetting all that he knows because of some silly fall…"
There was another pause, this one even longer than the first.
"…That can't happen…can it?"
"Well, it can…but I don't think-"
"Dude! We gotta wake him up! We need him-"
"Yo Mikey, chill!"
Yet another pause.
"…I'm gonna wake him!"
"Mikey, no!…Not you, he would freak. Centrice will have to do it."
There! A name he knew. He felt relief flood his shocked and numbed system like warm, sense-bringing water, and slowly he felt his body become his again, and in response, he moaned.
"Well, looks like we won't need Centrice to do tha' honors anymore. They guy is already awake."
"Uhh, where am I?" His own voice sounded foreign to him as he spoke, his throat dry and parched from its lack of use. "Can I get some water?"
There was a soft pitter patter as a pair of feet seemed to leave the room. At its sound Gren grew curious. Who were these people? However, when his mind brought back the vision of the bulky figure his eyes shot open in realization. That had been the last thing he remembered, that figure taking off his hat, and being some type of …monster.
And then he woke up here.
Centrice startled as Gren's eyes shot open. His body suddenly went ridged as he gasped lightly. She had been sitting next, kneeling on the floor to lean over the couch Gren now occupied. However, when he woke up she grew slightly nervous, not at all sure as to how Gren would react.
"Gren? Gren. You're alright." She moved closer to him, placing a comforting hand on his forehead. "You were out of it for a while."
At this Gren only blinked hard, looking Centrice in the face as if trying to determine if she was real or not. Nevertheless, upon feeling her hand on his head he relaxed, becoming content with what was going on. That is until he caught a glimpse of the dark shadows that stood behind her.
Dark living shadows.
"Centrice? Where am I?" He asked, his voice muffled as he fought off the clutches of sleep. Slowly he began to rise, lifting himself up from off of the old couch only to peer deeper into the darkness that surrounded him. It wasn't pitch darkness, but dark enough. He could not for the life of him see the figures that sat just behind Centrice.
"Who…who are they-?"
"Ok, got the water! Sorry I took so long. Wanted to get it nice and…cold…"
Michelangelo strode into the den then, his voice chipper and normal as if everything was just as it should be. But that all soon changed when he realized that the human was now awake. Almost instantly, Michelangelo re-immersed himself into the shadows of the dark room but by then it was already too late.
"Ahh! The Monster!" Gren exclaimed, leaping to his feet at the sight of the green skin. However, this new occurrence seemingly initiated an entirely new "conversation" for the shadows to forgo. And in slight horror, Gren watched the entire conversation from the lamplight.
"Great job Mikey, you dorkwad. Now he'll never help us!"
"But…I have water!"
"Mike, I thought we all agreed not to let him see us until after Centric-"
"But Leo,…Water!"
"Well, nevertheless, he's already seen him, as he did me. We should just turn on the light. Besides, we don't have time for this!"
"Donatello, don't touch that light switch. That is an order. We will do this as planned!"
Meanwhile, Gren watched the shadows converse from his stand, his head going back and forth as they each spoke and stated their opinions. As of now, he counted four…creatures…each one of them sporting the same hunched back as well as the bulging muscles. He could see that much from the light he did have. But what, exactly, were they? Were they humans? Some type of…freaks? Mutants, maybe? Nevertheless, oblivious of his pondering, they still continued in their debates.
"No, I'm with Donny on this one. We should turn on the light, Leo. Then if he's shocked, then he's shocked, no time wastin'. And I for one ain't for the time wastin'!"
Gren watched this one as he spoke, singling him out because of his strong New York accent. It was not the one he met in the park, though. Nevertheless, this one stood almost right next to him, immersed in the shadows like the others, but almost close enough to touch.
"What…exactly…are you?" He asked the figure, leaning closer as he squinted into the shadows in hopes of picking up more details about their abnormalities. At that, all conversation dropped as all four of the figures paused, freezing as if realizing for the first time that he was actually listening to their conversations. At this, the one nearest him seemed to take the moment as a golden opportunity, for after a moment of hesitation he stepped even closer to the awed man as well as the single lamp.
"We're turtles." He stated simply. And from what Gren observed, the guy was telling the truth.
Upon stepping closer the figure allowed the bit more light to illuminate his features. Although he did not step completely out from the shadows he did show enough for his speech to be confirmed with the illumination of his green skin and pale green-yellow of his chest, which consisted of a shell.
He was, indeed, a turtle.
"…I don't understand." Gren finally admitted, falling into a sit on the couch. Turtles? How was that even possible?
Nevertheless, the…turtle…only seemed to shrug.
"You don't have to. That's not what you're here for. All you need to do is remember the inside of that AVTech building! Other than that, I couldn't care less about what you 'understand.'"
"Raph!"
Another turtle stepped out of the shadows. This one wearing a blue bandana. And he was none too pleased.
"He is out guest! And we are his hosts. Act like it!"
It was then that this new turtle suddenly turned to Gren, leaning out of the darkness as well in order to address him head-on.
"You will have to excuse him, but we are in a bind."
"And the lights go on…"
Suddenly the entire room was flooded with light; exposing each and every shadow for what they were…Four gigantic talking, walking, turtles.
They all stood around him, one of them holding a glass of water, another purple banded one coming back from the light switch. In front of him stood a red banded turtle while next to him stood a blue one, his hands still on his hips from before. It seems as if Mr. Red or 'Raph' had been the one he was talking to as was Mr. Blue. Which had been the one scolding him. Nevertheless, the red one still stood his ground, not moving from his spot as light flooded the room. The only difference with the turtle was just the fact that now the details of his body were all exposed, giving Gren the shock of his life. All four of the turtles sported incredibly built bodies, their muscles bungling as they walked or just stood. Four, muscle bearing turtle monsters it seemed, but still, they all remained calm, conversing with each other as they observed the now shaking man.
"Dude, you're scaring him." The Orange one exclaimed, motioning towards the man with the glass of water he still held. At that red one scoffed before turning to look at the human himself. "No I'm not…Look, he's smiling!" He stated, pointing. Upon observing the turtle's two digit-ed hand, it seemed to be all he could take as Gren just closed his eyes. Nevertheless, Mike seemed to draw closer, as if observing the human for himself before turning back to his brother in disagreement.
"Raph…he's grimacing."
"Same thing."
"You guys!"
This time it was the purple one's turn to speak up. He was the one that had been near the light switch, and seemingly, if the bandanna was a clue, the same one he had spotted in the park. This one approached the group of turtles then, his voice strained and his face in a scowl as he continued. "We. Don't. Have. Time. For. Thi-"
"Actually. Donatello is right in his avowal. Time is of the essence."
Gren turned as he followed the turtle's gazes as they focused to a point behind him. There stood a relatively tall man, handsome in the face with a body built lean like an athlete. This one, actually, was human. And as far as he could tell, he was also just a kid.
"We only have a few hours between now and the revolution, and I recommend we make the most of them."
But then he spoke again, his mannerisms contradicting that of his child-like features.
He was no child.
Actually, very far from it.
Nevertheless, before Gren could even blink the young man was already approaching. Once there, the black haired teen reached out a hand in greeting.
"Owen Cromwell."
He introduced himself, and at the name Gren only nodded in disillusionment. It wasn't as if he recognized it or anything. Nevertheless, with no more than a nod Gren took the young man's hand, wincing slightly at his surprisingly strong grip.
"Gren." He responded as they boy released his hand. "Thomas Gren."
Gren watched at the young man's eyebrows furrowed as if contemplating what he was just told, but then seemed to shrug it off just as easily.
"Gren." Mr. Cromwell repeated before reopening his mouth to continue. However, it was then that he was immediately interrupted.
"Alright. I guess that means that we should do our introductions as well!"
Centrice's suddenly shrill voice interrupted anything Owen could have said as she stepped out from behind the accumulating crowd. Sometime during all of the commotion she had become a shadow in the background, but now she made herself known, as she too recognized the urgency of their situation. Owen was right when he said that the time was winding down…
Nevertheless, the turtles recognized her prodding and realized what she was trying to get them to do. With a sign, Raphael gave in, and introduced himself.
"Hey…"
When Gren turned, Raph only frowned before leaning over the couch, his arms crossing as he spoke.
"I'm Raphael."
Picking up on his cue, the orange turtle grinned widely before approaching the man as well. In his outstretched hand he offered the water while he beamed.
"And I'm Michelangelo, but you can call me Mikey!"
Gren took the water, but before he could even mutter a word of thanks he was interrupted by yet another voice.
"And this is my Boyfriend. Gren I would like you to meet D-"
"Oh! Well I've always wanted to meet the lucky man." His voice lacked enthusiasm but nevertheless he stood. However, instead of heading in the direction she was presenting, he head to her left…and right for Owen. "Glad I finally get to meet him." He murmured, shaking his hand yet again. At this Centrice wasn't the only one to flush, Owen did as well seemingly not really knowing what to do other than take the hand that was offered to him. Nevertheless, he sputtered as he realized what was happening.
"But...but I'm not-"
"No Gren, no. That's not by boyfriend. This…" She reached for Donatello, clasping his arm in hers before sliding her hand down to grasp his. "…Is my boyfriend. Gren, I would like you to meet, Donatello."
Waving slightly, Donatello smiled a bit, finding the slightest bit of pleasure in the shocked expression on the human's face.
Meanwhile, the entire clan watched the scene before them as it played out to hilarious proportions. And as it was, Raphael just could not help but comment.
"…And this has just gotten interesting…"
"So…let me get this straight. So, you all are mutant turtles, mutated in an accident by a canister of radioactive ooze."
Gren paced the room for possibly the millionth time, seeming pondering heavily on what he was just exposed to. Nevertheless, at his speech, Donatello nodded once, his head in his hands, slightly aggravated at how long the whole "comprehension" process had taken.
"Right." He agreed, shaking his head slightly when Gren continued to pace.
"And tonight you're all planning on infiltrating an evil vampire uprising. And you want to use my knowledge of the building to give you guys the edge so you can you all can save the world from total devastation."
Again, Donatello nodded, not looking up from the floor as he held his head in his hands.
"Right."
Michelangelo watched as the man finally stop wearing holes into the floor as he ceased in his pacing. Watching the turtle in purple he continued with his speech.
"And you're a vampire…"
"…Right."
Donatello looked up then, his face all but expressing his discontent, but he kept everything to himself as Gren finally seemed to be getting the drift.
"…And so is he."
At that Gren pointed off to the side where Owen stood in silence, leaning against the couch, his arms crossed, and his head down. His silence could have been translated as rest, the vampire being asleep because of the stillness of his body and the evenness of his breathing. But if anyone knew better, Don did. Owen was very much alert, and very much paying attention.
"Right." Don nodded, but not before sparing the silent vampire a stray glance.
For a moment Gren's pacing was the only thing that flowed to the two vampires, turtle, and girl's lowly ears. Centrice sat beside Donatello, soundly observing the entire transaction but she could easy feel the apprehension that had risen in the lair. Everyone was now at their wits end, even her.
"…So…will you help us?" Donatello sighed, not really knowing where Gren stood. Initially, the idea was that they would trade the secret of their existence with the knowledge of the building, but right now, he wasn't so sure. Gren still seemed a bit jittery, even though he was at least ninety-percent calmer than he was an hour ago. Nevertheless, Donatello still felt the need to ask, not wanting to throw Gren's nerves once again in a demand he thought he couldn't get out of…even though at this point, they literally wouldn't take 'no' for an answer.
And this Gren seemed to pause, looking the vampire/turtle in the face in a moment of silence before his mouth split into a grin. It was a nervous grin, but a grin nonetheless.
"Yes." He nodded, turning to the giant talking turtle…Boy did he have to get used to that idea. "Yes, I'm in."
At this everyone in the room seemed to snap to attention. Even Owen lifted his head at the man's words; his formerly boiling impatience steaming down to that of just annoyance as he finally pushed himself off of the couch, murmuring under his breath in resentment.
"Well, gee, that only took two hours…"
As Don turned to the elder vampire and grinned (him being the only one that was close enough to hear Owen's murmured comment) Centrice stood then and without another word, she headed out of the room. Coincidentally, she had a smile on her face as well.
She had also heard Owen's comments.
"I'm going to go get Leo. We should get things on the road."
Within a matter of moments, Leonardo was interrupted from his Katas by the smirking Centrice. She brought good news. Their "guest"was finally ready to comply.
"About time."
Immediately, Leonardo ambled past her and into the direction of the den. Meanwhile, Raph heard the commotion from his room and couldn't help but address the smirking Centrice as well as the solemn Leo.
"What's goin' on? Doc's ready to talk?"
"Oh, just come on."
She reached out as she passed him, tugging on his bandana in jest. Raph blinked through red, only to succeed in at least getting his vision back as he began to readjust the cloth. He got his bandanna down just in time to watch the both of them walk down the hallway towards the den. With a snort, he began to follow.
"Don't gotta tell me twice…"
Raphael stepped out of his room just in time to see his brother, Donatello, strut into the very same hallway, except it seemed that Donatello was heading away from the action instead of towards it. The emerging turtle made him forget about his bandana's state and instead fixing it, he peered out at his brother one with eye blinded and the other one completely out of the bandana altogether. Nevertheless he smirked as he watched his brother approach him.
"Where ya headed to, Donny? The party's the other way."
"Laptop." Don stated simply, brushing past the seemly nosey brother and into his room only to reemerge two seconds later with the flat computer. This time he did not spar Raph a single word as he brushed past as silent as the air around them. Raphael could only blink as he watched his solemn brother head back towards the den.
"Damn."
Readjusting his bandanna, Raphael shrugged off the cold rudeness his brother had just expressed, and instead thought towards the future. He couldn't help the smirk that slowly spread across his malevolent face. Finally! With Gren's cooperation they would be one step closer to the fight he had been looking forward to for all eternity.
Definitely the fight of a lifetime…
His muscles twitched at the mere thought of it.
---
"Ok, so here a break down of the plan."
They all sat in the den now, Leonardo being the center of attention on the long couch. To his right sat his brother Donatello, and to his left sat the newcomer, Gren. Their secret weapon. Behind them stood both Raphael and Owen, their bodies leaning on opposite sides of the couch but still they stood rather symmetrical to their chief, Leonardo. In the middle of them stood Centrice as well as Michelangelo, not so symmetrical but still balanced. Centrice was leaned down, her hands sitting on the back of Don's neck. Meanwhile, Mike was left standing, his hands crossed as he rubbed at his face. They all watched Leo, or specifically, Don's laptop of which now sat open on the coffee table, displaying the layout of the entire AVTech building and the placemats of the buildings around it., courtesy of the green vampire himself.
"Owen, properly bugged and equipped, will join up with the renegades as planed while we," Leo turned, looking each one of his brothers in the eye, "scope out the target from above. Then when Owen and the renegades infiltrate the building, so do we."
At this, he turned to the newest member of their team.
"That is where you come in, Gren. It will be your job to give us the 'inside scope' of the parts of the building we will encounter." Leo explained. At this though, Gren seemed to frown, furring his brows slightly as he contemplated what he was just told.
"But, how would I know where you guys are…if I am not to be in there with you?" His brows furrowed even further, but in response Leonardo only smiled before turning to his right and into the wise eyes of his brainiac brother.
"Donny?"
"Audio transmitters, micro-sized cameras as well as small signaling devices will be installed into each of our masks, permitting you to see and hear us and everything around us from the safety of your set up. You will even be able to see what we see, lessening the chances of a screw up."
Donatello eyed the human as curtly as he would allow, all but expressing their expectations of Gren, and at this, Gren only nodded, seemingly understanding the unspoken agreement. It was then that Donatello continued. "Owen, though, since he is literally the center of this operation, shall be bugged to the max. Audio transmitters, cameras, tracking devices, as well as a few extras…"
He lamented aloud, more to himself than anyone to anyone else. With Owen, Donatello knew he had his work cut out for him. The "youthful" vampire would be interacting very heavily with the actual renegades, thus, making it very important that his cover not be blown, especially not by some stray wires. Nevertheless, this statement did end his explanations of what was to be expected that night, and in response, all of the persons in the room nodded silently. Those were the plans, as loose as they were. Those were the only things they could depend on. Everything else, including exactly how they would complete their missions, was as unknown as the number of galaxies above them. Meaning, none of those sort of specifics would be addressed until they were able to see what actually they were working with, which would and could only happen once the entire stake-out was well underway.
Therefore, right now, the stakeout (sit and wait) mission was their first and only priority, not having any other alternatives until that one was accomplished.
Then and only then would the true challenge begin, but until then they could only plan and hope.
Hope that they all would survive long enough to stop the madness that would be the revolution, hopefully, before it even started.
But if that didn't work, then the most they could pray for was for their own survivals, and even then, that was not a given. They could all very well die that night. Nothing was a guaranteed…nothing. Not even their own lives.
But as things were now, that was just the way things had to be.
Shirtless, Owen sat cross-armed in Donatello's lab, lightly shivering from the cold air of the dark room.
He was cold.
There was no hiding that, but that didn't mean that he had to give into the jaw stricken chatter of his teeth. He had been through worse, much worse than just sitting in a freezing room, shirtless. However, when Donatello moved from whatever he was doing to administer his hand's contents onto his back, Owen could easily say that he was in hell. Not at all used to getting touched, this was absolute torture. He hadn't really been "touched" like this since he was married. Nevertheless, he only gritted his teeth, tensing as Donatello's hands found his back. At this the turtle seemed to pause in his administrations before chuckling.
"Don't tell me you're scared of a little bit of tape…"
Donatello couldn't help but chuckle at how Owen was reacting to just getting wired up. It seemed that with each piece of tape, with each placement of the wires that now ran up his bare back the old vampire grew more and more jittery. At Donatello's speech though, Owen still chose to say nothing. However, the next time the turtle did move away, Owen blinked at his lack of return. At this Owen's scowl seem to lighten slightly at the possibility of it all finally being over.
"Are you through?" He asked, never turning around from his stiff perch on the bench. Behind him there was a heavy silence as Don seemed to examine his handiwork. Owen's pale black gleamed in the poor light, but nevertheless, Donatello smiled at the neat wires that ran from the waist of his pants and up the sides of his stomach only to curve under both shoulder blades and meet in the middle at the base of Owen's neck. Very neat and precise. Donatello taped the wires tight to Owen's form, but just loose enough to allow mobility. Even if someone was to bump into him, pat his back, or even hug him (hey, with this crowd, anything could happen) the wires would still go undetected. Donatello smiled.
"Yes, I'm done. Well, with this part anyway."
Sitting down, Donatello moved to his bench, but not before throwing the black shirt at the vampire, of whom, caught it easily even with his back turned. Without another word, the shirt was on in seconds as Owen stood, but he paused, observing the few wires that now barraged his neck.
Owen turned to the turtle then, not saying anything but implied that he wanted an explanation as he motioned towards the small cluster of wires.
Donatello read his teacher like a book.
"Well," Donatello began, seemingly sidetracked as he typed something into his laptop. "They're a lot of things…" He referred to the wires then, finally making his way over to Owen. "Specifically, this," Don leaned close to study the wires before picking up one wire that had a small rounded tip. "Is your microphone. And this," He dropped the first wire only to pick up the second one. "Is our spyware. See, it's a little camera. See!" Donatello used this opportunity to show off his handiwork, turning his laptop so that Owen could see the video footage the cam was currently picking up. On the screen, Donatello waved. Owen turned back, only to see Donatello waving at the camera in his hand. "We will be able to see and hear everything you can see. Well actually…Gren will be the one seeing everything…"
At that Donatello seemingly trailed off, his head down as he made his way over to his desk once again. It was a very minor change in demeanor, but nothing went past Owen unnoticed.
"You don't like him, do you."
It was more of a statement than anything else, and in response Donatello only sighed.
"He is helping us when no one else can." Don countered, which only succeeded in assuring Owen in the fact that his former statement had been correct.
"You don't like him." Owen stated, turning to look the now downcast turtle in the eye. "Is it because of his fondness for Centrice?"
"Hey! I would rather not talk about this right now. We have things to do. There's no time for-"
"Donatello." Owen stated simply, looking his pupil in the face. He knew when Donatello was upset, 'babbling' being one of his main indicators.
"He presents no threat to you and Centrice's relationship…"
"I know, I know Owen. She can't stand him, or at least, she couldn't. Now though, I'm not to sure…"
While Donatello pondered of his own dark feelings, Owen couldn't help but integrate his mind with that of Donatello, sensing his growing feelings from a mile away. Nevertheless he waited for Donatello's hesitant but silent permission before actually prying lightly into the depths of the turtle's mind.
Only to frown at what he found there.
'Anger,…confusion,…resentment…jealousy?'
'Donatello…'
'Drop it, Owen.'
"Donatello…" Owen stepped forward only to meet a raging turtle.
"I said…drop it." Donatello restated, his eyes narrowing in challenge. Nevertheless, the vampire did just that, not really up for talking about such a sensitive subject anyways. At Owen's stand down Donatello breathed once before addressing the vampire once again, his face and mind clear of any trace of the conversation they had just had.
Everyone else was already all hooked up, all of their masks having been formally equipped as they should. Owen was the only one left, and then from there…everything was a go.
"Sit down Owen, were not done yet. Still have to put the transmitters in place as well as your earphone."
"Earphone?"
Owen sat again, just thankful that this time he didn't have to strip. He watched as Donatello approached him, his hands going towards the vampire's neck before pausing, as if realizing something.
"Oh yeah, and unbutton your shirt, I have to run this wire down to your che-"
"I'll just take it off…" Owen stated dejectedly, knowing that he would just end up having to take it off anyways.
'When will I ever win?'
Owen breathed in the air of his room as he looked into the mirror at himself.
This was it. They would be leaving as soon as he walked out of his room. They would be on their way.
He peered into his pale but handsome face, eyeing the way his eyes seemed dimmer than usual, the weight on his shoulders seemingly dimming the light in his own soul. But that was ok. This time, he knew he wouldn't be bearing the burden alone…
Speaking of the others, Owen made sure to double check the handiwork of his one and only student. He smiled. Not a single wire was visible, not a single one. Even when patting himself, he literally felt nothing unusual. Donatello did good. However, when his gaze fell to his right ear, he was surprised that he saw nothing there either. The "earphone" Donatello had been referring to earlier had not even been an earphone at all, but a single receiver actually planted (using an adhesive) behind his right ear, hidden neatly in his black hairline. It was tiny, but after doing a test check, they deemed it effective. The little black receiver allowed Owen to "hear" everything that was being said, without having to press or adjust anything. It was all right there in the tiny dot of a receiver. So tiny in fact, that it could easily be mistaken and passed for a mole, which he assumed, was Donatello's plan the entire time.
And he had to say, it worked.
Other than that, nothing else on Owen was visible, leaving Owen very impressed.
At the acceptance of the turtle's handiwork Owen's eyes moved then from the turtle's work to his own. He had made sure to dress "appropriately" for the occasion. No longer did he wear the normal looking tee-shirt and denim he wore earlier with Donatello. Black fishnets adorned both of his arms, the sleeves hooking at his thumbs and running up to disappear under the shoulders of his sleeveless shirt. They itched like crazy, but from what he saw in the Goth shop when they initially went shopping for the clothes, fishnets was "in," so fishnets he wore, regardless of how much he hated the itchy fabric. Nevertheless, he smirked a bit while looking into the mirror. The sleeveless shirt he wore hugged his torso, accenting the muscles in his chest quite impressively. A little too nicely in his opinion, but again, that was what they wanted. Hanging off of his neck was the amulet he had worn earlier, but right now, that wasn't what caught his attention. In the center of his chest was an icy blue symbol. (He had no idea what it meant) It was interesting, but the real reason he wore it was because of its coloring, and how it seemed to match, to the tee, one of the pants he had originally tried on in the store.
One each side of his waist, three bands of fabric hung down, meeting him almost at his knees. On one side of each of the black bands was the same icy blue coloring of his shirt, while the other side was just a simple black. He really didn't understand what these particular lines of fabric were for, but they looked good, so he wore the pants. Besides, he was getting used to it all; the baggy heavily pocketed pants, the symbols, the tight tees. The swinging fabrics on his pants, although he still couldn't figure out what they were used for…But he wore it, nonetheless, because punks thought it was cool.
He nearly rolled his eyes before turning away from the mirror as he grabbed up his sword.
"Kids nowadays. What ever happened to tunics and sandals, huh? At least back then you knew what you were wearing…"
"Ooh, Owen. Lookin' good! Might get more action that you thought, goin' out lookin' like that! Ha!"
"Don't patronize me…" Owen warned, looking down at his own clothes in disinterest before handing his sword to the smirking turtle. In response, Raphael only smirked wider, but did not continue in his teasing. Instead, he handed the sword to Donatello for them to bring along in their mission…just incase things were to get very sticky. Nevertheless, the lair was solemn as the night of reckoning was finally upon them.
Before, when Owen was still in his room preparing, the other turtles had also been readying themselves. One by one they had appeared in the den, their own preparations for the night before them evident in their modes of pre-battle meditation.
Leonardo had been the first one ready for the night ahead (of course) mostly due to the fact that he was prepared for this battle from the beginning. Upon entering, though, he leaned against the wall of the den, his eyes closed and his head down, seemingly still in deep meditation. In reality, he was only waiting for the others to join him.
And he did not have long to wait.
Almost as soon as he had established himself in his wait, the second youngest turtle was already in the room. Donatello filed in accordingly, which was surprising, since he had the most to prepare, physically and mentally.
But his heart was downcast at the thoughts of his own preparations.
He did not meet his goal. He was unable to learn all of the arts before the night hit, and now he was at a disadvantage.
It wasn't as if he didn't try. Owen and him had spent hours attempting to perfect his telekinesis, the both of them working long and hard on the different methods to go about the activity, but even then, Donatello was not successful. Finally, the both of them called it quits, Owen dismissing the fact with the possibility that the mix of the vampric blood and the animal (turtle) mutation left Donatello without the ability for such vampric acts.
Nevertheless, Donatello wasn't so "eager" to give up. To him, it was more of a failure than anything thing else.
To him, he was a failure.
All of his life he was always the one that was able to figure things out, even when his brothers told him that it was impossible. It was his nature. However, with this, he couldn't help but feel the pang of failure even though this was beyond his own thoughts of reasoning the mutation/vampric "restrictions" being out of his control.
Therefore, when Owen admitted defeat, it only resulted in furthering Donatello's ambitions, giving him even more motivating to do what everyone else said was impossible.
It was his nature even when he was anything but natural.
Now, he walked into the room, the bag on his shoulder heavy with the equipment and supplies they all could need. Grappling hooks, First-Aid kits as well as other supplies that my just be handy for their mission inhabited his bag. In the end his laptop toped it all off, completing his physically preparations.
Mentally, though, it was another issue altogether.
In his mind the sting of failure still ate at him like nothing else. To him, he was anything but prepared, but with the hour of reckoning upon them the most he could do was just deal and hope that everything would work according to plan, or at least, that they would get out alive.
Thus cued turtle number three.
Raphael, like his brothers, was also in the mindset for battle, but unlike his brothers, he was anything but solemn.
"Hey Donny! Got enough stuff in your giant purse there?"
No sooner had he moseyed on in the room was he already on one of his brother's cases, Donatello being the one closest to him and the easiest target for victimization. Meanwhile though, as soon as the words had left his brother's lips, Donatello's head snapped to look him in the eyes, his teeth gritting as he responded through them.
"We've been through this. It's a carry bag, and you know it…"
Raph only laughed, flopping down uncaringly into the seat next to his brother, his voice unusually cherry (in a sarcastic way, of course) as he responded.
"Right…In what country?"
It seemed to be all Donny could stand, his growl coming automatically as he turned to glare fiery daggers at his brother in red. When Raph only laughed in response, it seemed to break the camel's back as Donny suddenly stood, his eyes almost literally on fire.
"This bag," He spat, motioning to the brown sack as he addressed his asshole of a brother, "holds the key to our survival in that hell hole. Meaning, it's the only thing that will keep our sorry asses alive..." Donatello's voice was nothing more than a spitting whisper, his own disgust and discontent over his personal reflections making themselves known in his scolding. And at his tones, Raphael couldn't help but blink before backing off. Holding up both hands, Raphael surrendered before literally backing off of the couch, completely taken back by the venom that seemed to spit from Donny's mouth. Never had he seen his brother so angry, or at least, so intimidating angry.
And he had a good suspicion that it came from the hot vampire blood within him.
Well whatever it was, it certainly was working.
'Note to self: Don't mess with Donny.'
"Alright, alright! Geez, I get the picture. I was just screwin' with ya."
"Well, don't."
Donatello's eyes still burned holes into his brother. Meanwhile the youngest of the brothers stride lightheartedly into the room, the newest member of their team filing in behind him. However, upon entering they both paused as they felt the ice breaking tension that sparked from the hostile Donatello. While Gren only seemed to shrink back at its intensity, Michelangelo blinked. Nevertheless, he took a step backwards as well.
"Whoa…"
At the sound of Mike's voice, Donatello's head snapped to attention in the turtle's direction. A glare was administered to Michelangelo as well. In response Michelangelo backed up even more, his shell clunking lightly against the wall as he held his hands up in mock surrender.
"Whatever I did, dude…I didn't do it!" He quickly exclaimed only to see his brother's glare soften. "Well, I didn't!" He backed up his claim, but by then the situation had already disintegrated. Donatello sat down then, the fire in his eyes extinguishing at his brothers laments. Meanwhile Raph realized that he was suddenly off the hook, and acted on the new freedom by completely moving away from the couch, and away from his suddenly calm brother.
Only to spot his replacement victim walking into the room…brining everything right back to the present with everyone finally in the room and accounted for.
"Well then," Raph began, eyeing the dreary bunch in the room. He knew that time now was of the essence, the big stake out getting closer and closer with every second that passed. His heart skipped a beat because of it. "Should we get going?"
He was never one for just standing around, but as it was, and for once, another brother agreed with him.
"Yes, we should."
Leonardo spoke for the first time, his placidness being broken with the movement of his own mouth. With everyone finally in attendance, it was indeed time to begin the longest night of their lives. Nothing more came from his lips or the others' as he finally pushed himself off of the cold wall. With his eyes stern, and his face stone, he nodded towards the team. They all nodded back.
It had begun.
One by one they filed out of the room and into the sewers.
Michelangelo.
Raphael.
Owen.
With one last kiss from Centrice, Donatello.
And with a last push from Leonardo, Gren.
Being the last one left in the lair, Leo watched as Centrice walked back to her shared room, her eyes and features sad. Slowly though after she had shut her door he eyed his beloved home, knowing that he may very well never see it again. However as his eyes swept over the den he was unable to overlook the now unused walking stick, of which for some reason, now sat in the corner of the room.
With a deep breath, Leo fought back a tear as it stung at his eye. But he knew what he had to do.
"…Splinter." He whispered, before turning away. Nevertheless, he knew that his beloved Sensei would have been pleased with him and his brothers. Over the last few months they had been faced with hell. Nevertheless and despite all odds, they all prevailed with ties even stronger than before. They even added another member to their close knit society below the sewers, Owen. And for that, he knew Splinter would have been very proud of them.
Very proud indeed.
He couldn't let his Sensei down. Not now, not ever.
"This…is for Splinter."
And with those last few words, Leonardo stepped out of his home of twenty two years and into the grimy sewer beyond. This could very well be the last time he would even see these sewers…his home. But nevertheless, he knew that if he died tonight, he and his brothers would die…
With honor.
And that was all he could ever ask for. So, with one last sigh, he followed his brothers away from his home and into brisk airs of the sewers ahead. This would be the biggest battle of his life, but no matter what happened he knew that it would happen with honor.
Trevor grinned as he over looked the city from above the rough waters. The air was frigidly cold, but it didn't bother him. The night was young, and victory was finally at hand.
Water droplets splashed against his face as he stared out into the waves below the pier, otherwise known as "The Docks." His coat and streaks of red fiery hair billowed in the gust of strong winds, but again he paid it no mind.
He was at their meeting place. The first one there.
But not for long…
"Hey, dude!…Is this the place?"
"Man I hope so. Can't wait to stick it to the man! Av-Tech doesn't stand a chance."
In that same instant, Trevor was gone, evolving into the shadows that was the pier as the adolescent vampires walked up. Nevertheless, they both continued to rant, oblivious of the fact that they were now being watched. Trevor smirked from the shadows. His followers were finally drizzling in, and none too soon.
This would truly be a night of reckoning. And just as he always dreamed, he would finally be on top.
Now all he had to do was wait for his newest recruit, the no named ball of energy that would ensure their success. That guy was powerful, almost matching Owen's unused and wasted power. However, the fact that nothing else about the character matched up with the old advisory made it safe to assume that this new guy was indeed, a newbie.
A newbie Bounty Hunter.
Trevor's smirked widened and intensified at the thoughts of the young vampire.
Well, when he did show, he would be very well received.
Very well received indeed.
This time, he couldn't keep his teeth from chattering. It was extremely cold, so cold in fact that if one looked close enough, they could just make out the shiver in Owen's body. But he at least had the ability to keep that to a minimum, although about then he could safely say that he hated the teenagers of this time period.
They all were so bloody superficial. It was a pain fitting in…literally.
The thin jacket he wore did nothing against the harsh frigid winds of the atmospheres, and for that, he was already miserable, the cold actually being one of his many dislikes. Nevertheless, he bared it, not allowing himself to shiver too badly. He wasn't a baby, he was a vampire.
Therefore, he should act as one.
So, with no more than a slight frown he pulled the jacket close to his frame and shoved his numb hands into his pockets.
He also regretted having his hair cut short. He was naked compared to how he usually dressed in such weather. His old jacket may have been old, but at least it was relatively weather proof due to the quality and time put into making it. Couldn't get jackets like that any more though, that was for sure. Although well worn and ripped in a few places from his various 'close calls' it still never failed in keeping him warm. Not like the garbage being made now.
And that was all it was really, garbage.
Everything he wore held no purpose other than looking good…Except for maybe, the amulet.
Unconsciously he reached out with his senses, feeling the rather heavy adornment press lightly against his chest with each step. There was definitely something about that amulet that even Trevor had noticed.
But as to exactly what was so special about it, he had no idea. But that was why he wore it, in hopes that if he did he might be able to figure something out. Right now though, it was more of a comfort than anything else…
Water misted suddenly against his face, which told him to sober up.
Looking around he realized that with one more right, "The Docks" would be in sight.
'Alright. Well here goes.'
With no more than a slouch of his posture and a calculated smirk on his face, Owen fell easily into the character and mindset of 'O' (hopefully for the last time) as he finally reached the Docks. Effortlessly, he slipped into the crowd of growing vampires.
However, he could not help but feel a tingle in the back of his mind. Even in the bumbling crowd, he was being singled out by at least one pair of eyes.
He could sense it.
Nevertheless, he kept his cool, even as the feeling nipped harshly at his senses.
He was definitely being watched.
Trevor grinned as he recognized the dark haired youth, and licked his lips in anticipation.
Bounty hunter or not, he was at least fun to look at…
'Very fun…'
Raunchy fishnets ran up his smooth muscular arms only to disappear under the sleeveless second skin otherwise known as his shirt. It had some blue symbol on the chest, but the symbol wasn't what he was paying attention to. More like the chest underneath.
'Very nice.'
That plus the matching pants he wore made him look even better than he did before.
Unconsciously Trevor's grin grew wider in vice. Never had he had such thoughts about someone of the same sex before. But it seemed that now, like with his powers, this kid was definitely an exception.
Well that wasn't completely true…
There was another he had lusted for, although with this individual he would have never admitted it out loud.
There was another that despite being a fellow vampire, he was also Trevor's archenemy.
The One and Only.
Owen Cromwell.
Ever since he first laid eyes on the human that was now the 'Bounty Hunter' he knew that Owen was the one he wanted for himself.
Even if it meant that he would have to wait centuries to claim the spoils.
But to no prevail…
Over the centuries, Trevor tried time after time again to persuade Owen to join his side. Only then could he have the vampire as he wanted, but things had never gotten far enough when Owen did join him.
Nevertheless, that short fifty seven years of joint forces made all the difference in the world. Owen had learned everything he was taught. And Trevor taught his pupil everything he knew.
Owen would have made a wonderful partner…in more ways than one.
But then one day everything changed.
It was all after a certain chess game, if he remembered correctly. Owen 'goody goody two shoes' ideals of life hindered everything that Trevor was trying to achieve, and in a sudden act of defiance, Owen left from under the wing of his teacher only to become a loner, and has been ever since.
Now, centuries later, Trevor may have finally found a replacement.
And none too soon either. This new kid would be second in command to world domination, just as Owen was supposed to be.
'But the new kid isn't even a renegade, he's a bounty hunter.'
Trevor only smirked at his mind's avowal. It wasn't as if he didn't like challenges. Hell, he had gotten Owen onto his side before, didn't he? He had ways of persuasion.
Trevor almost sneered as the scene of a burning house played itself over and over again in his mind. The sweet triumphant smell of burning flesh replayed in his lungs as the sight of a soul survivor standing before a burning home and family caused his eyes to narrow with feat.
Oh yes. He had very good methods of persuasion.
Very effective methods of persuasion, indeed.
"Click here to get our audios feeds. Leo, Raph, Mike and I will be feeds one through four while Owen, who is over here," Donatello pointed awkwardly over the man's shoulder to one of the five bleeping dots. "Is number five. However, for the majority of time I recommend that you keep all of the audio feeds open unless things get too confusing to do so. Do you understand?"
Donatello's icy stare bore holes into the timid yet calm Gren. At his stare, Gren only nodded despite the shiver that went through him, both at the coldness of the air and at the coldness of the turtle's eyes. Nevertheless, he made sure not to keep the intimidating turtle waiting for a response.
"Yes, I completely understand." Then with a slight shiver he added, "I've worked with this sort of thing before…"
"Well good." Don's response was curt as he swiftly turned from the equipment. "Then I guess you will have no troubles running check tests in about…" Donatello pulled back his wrist band in order to peer at his watch before replacing it. "five minutes?"
Again he used the same sarcastic tone, and again he used the same cold stare as he turned to watch the man he was addressing. This time though Gren didn't catch his glance but instead, focused on the laptop and headset before him. On the roof top the wind swirled around in sharp circles causing both Donatello's bandana tails as well as Gren's long pony tailed hair to veer up. Nevertheless, it all was ignored. Donatello kept his gaze square on the crouching human as he waited for his answer. He did not have to wait long.
"Yes, Don."
Gren hardly looked up, not even meeting the turtle in the eye as he spoke, but he still caught Donatello's nod and then the retreat of the turtle as he moved to the edge of the rooftop.
"Alright."
The turtle's tenor voice sounded out from beyond Gren's vision as he moved. Turning, Gren watched the turtle move to the edge but quickly turned back with the assumption that Don would disappear over it. However, it was then that Donatello spoke up once more.
"Hey, Gren…"
Gren turned again, this time at his name. However, with the quick realization that something was catapulted towards him, he thought fast, catching the flying projectile before it could do any damage to him. But it still left him shocked. That is until he looked down into his hands at what he caught and recognized the bread wrapped in plastic.
It was a sandwich.
"It's incase you get hungry. Oh and Gren…"
Gren looked up to watched the turtle-vampire flip over the roof top before sticking his head back up to look the man in the eye.
"It's Donatello, and don't you forget that."
It was then that Donatello finally let go, dropping to the ground five stories below only to spring up and into a shadowed run in order to get into position.
On the roof Gren blinked once before looking back down at his sandwich.
It was turkey.
"Thanks?"
His voice was immediately droned out by the howl of the winds on the empty roof top. He was all alone.
'I don't think he likes me very much…'
'Oh really? What was your first clue? When he bore holes into you with his glare or when he nearly impaled you with a sandwich?'
"Well?" He voiced out loud. "At least it wasn't pastrami…"
'Hardy har har.'
The lair was still except for one breath amongst the darkness. With a ninja like silence, she sifted from one shadow to the other, quietly moving from her room to her destination. With no more than a quite creak of the floor boards she moved from the hallway to the den…only to end at a door that had been abandoned for only a few months.
Splinter's room.
She looked back and forth needlessly in the empty home before opening the door and slipping inside. The door clicked softly behind her, and all she could do was breath as she peered into the room of the only true father she had.
Splinter's room remained as he had lived, his flat bed still neat and made on the floor, his candle assortment still inhabiting his bedside table. Even his kimono was where it should have been, spread out neatly on his bed, ready for wear.
The only thing that was missing in Splinter's Japanese-decorated room was Splinter.
A sting went through her, but she ignored it, having bigger things to do at the moment than morn lightly on the passing of the ninja master. She wasted no time. Striding hurriedly into the room, she passed his cot and kimono and went straight to the other side of the room, and to his storage trunk.
When he was alive, Splinter was a very simple rat. But even he had treasures.
With a quick sigh and a small prayer she opened the old box and immediately laid eyes on her prize. Slowly, carefully, she reached into the box to feel the black cloths within.
A little cool, but comfortable.
Cotton.
She smiled. Just as she thought.
With just as much delicacy as she had begun with her slowly lifted the folded clothing from the trunk and closed the lid.
This was all she needed from here. Therefore, with as much reverence as she could conjure, she stood and walked back towards the doorway of the room, careful to leave everything she passed undisturbed. At the door, she turned to gaze at the ninja master's room once more. With a deep sigh she clasped the clothing in her hands, bowing deep with reverence in memory of the beloved ninja master. After a few moments she straightened, peering at the room once more, before leaving just as quietly as she had entered.
This was it.
The next few moments of her life consisted of many things, one of them being a trip the bathroom. That was where she tied her hair back, making sure to get all of the strands so that it wouldn't get into her face. She stripped of her normal clothes, having no need for them anymore. Then, with a reverence beyond her years she unfolded the bundle, lying the pieces out before her in awe at what it all represented.
Starting with the easiest pieces of garment-wear she slipped into the protective arm and hand sleeves and wrapped the black scarf around her neck. It covered her chin and nose only to stop just below her eyes, just as it should. In the next moment a black hood covered her hair and forehead, stopping in sequence just above her eyes.
Both facial adornments tied at her neck.
Peering into the mirror she smiled lightly as she threw the dark cotton jacket on, covering the rest of her torso. It hung loose, but she knew that it wouldn't be so roomy for long. Moving to the trousers, she slipped the large pants up one leg at a time. This was also roomy, mostly to allow movement. Nevertheless, the ensemble was still incomplete. Ties made up the rest of the traditional uniform. Ties at the knees, ankles and then finally, her waist bound the formally loose fitting 'everything' to her body.
However, after slipping on the traditional split-toed tabi she looked into the mirror, her hands at her sides and her eyes narrowed.
It was complete, she was finished.
She was nameless, she was honor-bound.
She was ninja.
Her fist cut sharply through the air around her as she executed three consecutive katas, testing the ninja uniform of its limits. Finding none, she was thoroughly pleased.
Now she could finally join the others.
Bowing quickly into the mirror, Centrice exited the bathroom thoroughly adored in the traditional Shinobi Shozoku.
However, as she ran towards the door she nearly skidded into it as she realized that she was forgetting something…Something important.
"Weapons!"
Even her voice sounded different, but she paid her definable assertiveness no mind. Instead she rushed quickly to the dojo, attacking the weapons unmercifully. Smoke bombs and shuriken found her concealed pockets by the dozen as well as a number of throwing knives to keep her elements of surprise plentiful.
With that complete, all she had to do now was choose a main weapon…
Initially her first thoughts had been the Bo, but that would have immediately given her away since that was her main weapon in most of her sparring sessions. But that didn't mean that it was her favorite weapon…
She side-stepped the bo staff and boken, continuing passed the sai and the tonfa, the nunchaku and the katana and to the weapons beyond. The weapons here were hardly used, mostly just for show.
But they could be used, and she had been eyeing one for quite some time…
Slowly, she ran her hand over the cool links of the chains that was her quiet obsession for the last few months.
Manrikigusari. The "strength of a thousand men." The ultimate weapon.
And her obsession.
"Oh yeah, come to momma…"
Slowly, she picked up the weighted blunt spikes at each end of the three foot long chain and felt the power.
The power to suppress.
The power to maim.
Even the power to kill if she needed to.
The power to help her friends, her family, her lover…
With a flick of her wrist and a pull of her arm, the weighted chain veered up. Then with a sharp pull the chain back to her only to fall to the ground behind her.
But not before cracking the wooden bo stand behind her in half. She smirked, her eyes narrowing into slits of pleasure. Slowly, she wrapped up the length of the chain and placed the chain whip of sorts into a holder on her belt.
She was now ready.
No longer would she sit safely on the sidelines. Not anymore. She was tired of her boring, uniformed, accountant lifestyle. And she was tired of being treated as such, by her family, by her friends and by her boyfriend.
However, right now, all of that didn't matter.
Because, right now, it was all about to change.
Tightening her fists at her sides, she walked to the door with a new assertion. She would fight with the others, just as she knew she should.
It wasn't as if she didn't know how.
She always held back with the turtles…she always did. Mostly because she feared what she would find when she found her true center. But that didn't mean that she took ninjitsu lightly.
She embraced the teachings with conviction.
Mind, body and spirit.
With all three of those things in synch, one could be unstoppable. She knew, she tried it, and it was true.
But never with the turtles.
She couldn't bring herself to because if she did she knew that things would change between them. If they knew that she had a complete and naturally powerful gift for the arts, they would hammer it into her even more…and she could not allow that to happen.
She enjoyed ninjitsu. She enjoyed the spar sessions, and the life lessons. But she knew that she could not enjoy it if she was being forced into it. So, with no other choice she hid her talents from the turtles. But now, she knew that she did not have that kind of freedom any more.
She was ninja, she was honor bound by code. She must protect her family. At all costs.
Therefore, without sparing it a second glance Centrice left the dojo. She strode with self-assurance through the hallway and into the kitchen, then the den, and finally, to the front door.
This time, she knew she was ready.
She could feel it in her mind, body, and spirit.
She could feel it in all of her being.
The lock on the door beeped with each number she punched in and then clicked as it unlocked, releasing her into the world.
She was ninja. She was honor bound.
She was unstoppable.
Without a sound, she slipped out into the tunnels and began towards her destination, the blueprints as well as the turtle's plans running through her mind. She smirked, feeling the wind of her sprints against her black clad body.
It was time to initiate her own plans for the evening.
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Ok, well, might as well stop there. We're on the home stretch people! One more chapter and this story is complete. I'm warning you all now. If you have been reading, review, review, review. I'm gonna have a giant 'thank you' session in the end, thanking each and every person that supported me by reading or reviewing throughout this series. I don't want to leave anyone out ;). Seriously though. I am greatly thankful for everyone that has persevered and read through all of this story so far. You guys deserve a metal or something, :) Well, anyways, here I go to the next and last chapter sigh…There will be an epilogue afterwards, but it just won't be the same…WELL R&R! I wanna hear ya! (So I can thank ya laterz! wink) See you in the next chapter.