Thanks so much for the reviews on the last three instalments of this series. I'm stoked that you guys are enjoying the shenanigans! I'd been so caught up with 'Rats and Men' that I let my updates on this one slip so thought it was about time I remedied that :)
Anyway I'm trying to write each one shot from a different person's perspective which, as you know, I really enjoy doing. For this series it lets us get a view on everyone else's reactions to, and thoughts about, the prank war. This time it's Splinters turn to get caught up in the silliness (just a teeny touch).
Hope you like it!
Remember all these are set before Rats and Men :)
"Where are they?"
Master Splinter paused, hands tucked into the sleeves of his robe against the mild chill in the lair. With a barely perceptible twitch of his whiskers and lift of his chin he scented the air to find that the large room was seemingly empty, yet at the same time his sensitive ears picked up a rustle of movement from further back. He turned his head slightly towards the noise and listened harder.
"Where are they?" Came the mutter once again accompanied by a thudding scrape and faint shing of tempered metal.
Ah, Scarlett. Her scent masked by that ingenious bracelet Donatello had designed for her.
The turtles sensei allowed his brows to furrow as the the girl's name shifted through his mind, swiftly followed by a realisation of what she must be doing.
When his second eldest son had gifted the youngster with his drum kit some months ago it had quickly become apparent that parameters needed to be established around the 'instruments' use. Her passion for creating mind numbing noise with the contraption had the potential to bring further disruption to a household already on the continual brink of young blooded chaos. After a slightly rocky start an agreement had been settled upon, she would limit her practice to a time when fewer ears were around to be assaulted. Leonardo and Donatello in particular had no fondness for the excess of sound so would retreat to their quarters. Raphael and Michelangelo, however, didn't seem to be bothered by it and could often be found nearby. Splinter scanned the lair, not today apparently.
Another clatter sounded, this time accentuated by a low curse.
Splinter flattened his ears against his head, it appeared that his emergence from his quarters was ill timed on his part. Deciding to ignore the expletive for serenities sake he continued on his way to the kitchen with the intension of boiling water to take straight back to his room. Perhaps it would be wise to ask Donatello to install the appropriate facilities in his quarters and thus eliminate the need to traverse the lair several times per day. Or perhaps not, he mused, it may not be wise to withdraw himself any further from the life of the lair.
Before the kettle had finished its task he heard Scarlett approaching the kitchen with a heavy tread. The child was exceptionally skilled at masking her movements almost completely when she wished. The fact that she was now stomping indicated her temper was riled once again and he sighed inwardly. It would seem he had not been swift enough in his quest for hot tea and would now pay the price in excessive teen temperament.
"Oh, hi Master Splinter." She seemed startled as she rounded the corner into the kitchen which told him she'd neglected to assess her surroundings as she moved through the lair. Something he would chide his sons for but chose to let go with his youngest student. Her heightened sense of smell and the fact he was making no effort to mask his presence should have meant she knew he was there before she saw him.
"Hello Scarlett," Splinter inclined his head politely, "how are you?" He suspected he already knew the answer but was driven to ask regardless.
Immediately a frown replaced her surprised expression and her eyes darkened with irritation. "Someone's been messing with the drum kit," she grumbled, confirming his suspicions, "I can't find my sticks anywhere and I know I left them on the snare. I checked everywhere, they've disappeared and my practice time is running out. Leo and the guys will be back from their dump run soon and I promised I'd only play while they were gone and you were meditating in your room," she shot him a quick look, "which you aren't doing anymore. I guess that's it for today anyway." she finished with a defeated slump of her shoulders.
Crossing to the cupboard she reached up to retrieve a glass and as she closed the small door again she paused, spine stiffening slightly before she whirled around with eyes narrowed. "You didn't take them did you...sensei?"
The honorific title was tacked on to the end of her bald accusation and he raised an eyebrow slightly. "While I confess to having no love for your instrument of choice, it would be wrong of me to hamper you in such a way." Splinter murmured reprovingly, "I am disappointed to hear that you would see me in this light."
His words had the desired effect, a flush stained her cheeks and she dropped her eyes contritely. "Sorry," she mumbled "it's just...I know you don't like it when I play, even though you're too polite to say so. I love it though because..." she trailed off uncomfortably and shrugged, studying the glass in her hand as though it was incredibly fascinating all of a sudden.
"Yes?" he tilted his head in question at her unfinished sentence, curious to hear the end of it. It wasn't often they spoke thus and he found himself wanting to get to know the girl even just a little better.
"I...uh...it's fun." She said lamely and he cleared his throat pointedly. Her mouth quirked to the side and she reached a hand up to rub at the back of her neck, "Ok, I guess I like it because I can use it to get rid of all this stuff inside me that keeps building...like feelings," she flushed, "or whatever." She winced "That sounded really lame."
"Not at all," Splinter smiled at her, "a creative outlet is a wonderful thing and unique to each of us. I'm glad you have the opportunity to indulge."
"Yeah well, not today." Scarlett rolled her eyes as she turned to the fridge, "I can't exactly play without my sticks and I have no idea..."
She cut off as the door of the fridge swung open and her eye immediately caught on something inside. Splinter watched in fascination as her jaw dropped, "What the fffffffffffffffff...?" she hissed on the precipice of a curse and once again the mutant rat bit his tongue on a sharp reprimand. Small steps of improvement, he reminded himself, she didn't actually give voice to the offensive word.
Instead he remained silent as she disappeared from view, seconds later re-emerging from the depths of the fridge holding a clear rectangular container which seemed to be housing a large amount of orange jelly. He watched with growing curiosity as Scarlett transferred the container to the bench then stared down into it with a steadily deepening glower until she looked ready to murder the gelatinous contents.
Splinter found himself at a loss to understand why the substance was causing the girl such offence and so crossed to her side so he too could look down into it's depths. Straight away he was once again reining in his reaction, but this time it was mirth that threatened his composure.
"Not funny."
He shifted his gaze to Scarlett who was now glaring up at him, amber eyes lit from within by barely contained fury, and he realised he must have let some small noise escape. He cleared his throat and murmured, "Indeed" as stoically as he could manage.
Pacified by his response Scarlett returned to glowering at the jelly, after a moment huffing as she pushed one sleeve of her grey sweater to her elbow like someone about to plunge their arm into a bath rather than a shallow dish. The grimace of disgust that pulled at her mouth almost had his lips twitching with renewed humour.
A moment later she had retrieved her drumsticks from the bottom of the jelly and she held them aloft as globs of orange splatted back into the container. With tentative movements she shook off as much of the gelatinous treat as she could then crossed to the sink to rinse away the rest under the tap.
"Now they're orange." Task complete she turned back with a wet length of wood clutched in each hand and he saw that they were indeed now orange, the pale wood stained by the colouring of the jelly. The pure incredulousness on her face as she stared down at them nearly undid him.
His inner struggle went unnoticed by the girl, instead her expression once again turned thunderous.
"He's dead." Scarlett fumed, clutching the stained sticks in a tight fist as she stormed out of the kitchen, leaving her sensei in no doubt as to who she was referring to.
Perhaps I have been somewhat neglectful, Splinter thought to himself as the clomping footsteps faded and he recovered enough to pour his hot water into the waiting teapot. It seems no one has cautioned the girl not to become entangled in a battle of pranks with Michelangelo. A most unfair competition considering his dedicated years of practice.
A small smile tugged at his whiskers as he made his way back to the quiet of his quarters. Then again, perhaps it is a lesson best learned on one's own.