#fott

Four brothers stood in a row, waiting for their father to enter the dojo. There wasn’t much for most of them to show for their efforts. Leonardo was completely empty-handed, eyes downcast and expression pinched, as he waited at perfect attention. Donatello had a tire at his feet, propped up against his long leg, purple ribbon still around it but a shuriken embedded deep in the tread. Raphael was tireless, but grasped a red painted bulb in his palm, occasionally tossing it up only to catch it again as he glanced smugly at his older brother. Michelangelo swayed in place, orange ribboned tire resting like a tutu around his waist, an appropriate costume for his distracted dancing as he waited for Master Splinter to arrive. There was no matching orange lightbulb in sight.

The air was charged, as it often was when training exercises involved a competition between the boys. From the smirk on Raphael’s face, it looked at if the first verbal volley was about to be lobbed. The young leader was spared from teasing by the sound of a tail sliding across the carpet. Master Splinter made no comment, but the row firmed up and the fidgeting stopped. The teenage turtles stood at attention as they awaited their father’s evaluation.

Splinter walked the line in slow deliberate steps, not pausing to look at any of his children directly, but nonetheless, his appraising gaze could be felt by all of the turtles. After pacing up and down the line, he took his customary place in front of them, hands clasped behind his back, and looked over his students.

“Firstly, in the future, please refrain from using all weapons, throwing or otherwise, ” his voice cut through the heavy silence and Donatello twitched visibly before settling more stoically, “in the common areas of the lair for as long as our guests are with us. This was my oversight for today. It is your warning for the future.”  

There was a questioning look from those not privy to the events outside of the lab door. However, Splinter choose to move on rather than allow the moment to be bogged down in questions and details. “Now, onto your performance. You all choose to team up with a brother to divert my attention or divide the given tasks. Both valid and useful strategies.” A small sigh of relief went through the line but it was premature. “Or they would have been, had you used them more effectively.

“Leonardo, Donatello. Your choice to work together was a wise one and your use of available resources is to be commended. However,” the ninjitsu master’s voice deepened with disappointment, “the lack of awareness about both your enemies’ position and capabilities lead to your downfall.”

Splinter looked directly at his eldest son. “A leader must be the most diligent about where a potential attack might come from so that he can give the team the greatest chance for success and put their abilities to the best possible use. I was able to defeat you because you had wearied yourself with carrying both the tires. A task that would have been better suited to Raphael, yet you chose to team up with Donatello, where a different strategy would have been more effective. I was able to take you by surprise because you made assumptions about my position and let your guard down. Being aware of your environment and the potential threat your enemy poses could be the deciding factor in the success of your mission and the safety of your team.”

Leonardo’s head dipped in acknowledgment and remorse. “Hai, Sensei.”

Shifting his gaze, he saw that his tallest son was fidgeting with the tire and looking desperate to ask a question. “Yes, Donatello?”

The lanky turtle had no qualms in voicing his concerns immediately. “Is Mrs. VonHertz okay?”

Splinter nodded, but did not give a reassuring smile, he had not yet returned his attention to the ferret-woman since he had saved her from losing an eye at the lab door. He did not wish to focus on her now. “She was not physically hit.” Donatello sighed in relief, but it was a short lived reprieve. “Let me see your tire.”

Donatello lifted up the bulky tire for his master’s inspection, obviously nervous as the rat leaned in, squinting as he examined the ribbon closely. Reaching out one claw tipped finger, Master Splinter pressed on suspicious section of the purple marker, raising an eyebrow when it came away tacky. The ribbon split at the abuse but did not fall to floor as the glue that failed to hold it together nonetheless kept it attached to the rubber tread. Donatello’s nervous laughter was all the admittance of guilt that the wizened rat needed.

“While I commend you for your ingenuity Donatello, both with the scooter and in your ‘triage’ attempts, these things alone are not guaranteed to give you an edge in the successful completion of a mission. You must also be more aware of your surroundings. You must have also known that it would have been more effective had you gone for the tires, using your contraption from the beginning, and left the bulbs to Leonardo.” The teen averted his eyes, but there was a small nod in response. “Next time do not hesitate to voice your opinion. Leonardo may lead, but he needs your input to do so effectively.”

Splinter made to step away as his son returned the tire to the floor, but hesitated. He looked over his sons once more and gave him a slight smile. “I am glad to see that you received no injuries from the shuriken I returned to you. It appears that your dodging skills have improved.” The lanky teen smiled at the praise, but his face fell as his father continued. “I shall have to incorporate more sessions like it into our future exercises.”

Splinter schooled his features as he stopped in front of Raphael. The burly turtle was at attention, nothing was technically wrong in his stance as he awaited his sensei’s verdict, but the air of smug amusement about him was hard to ignore. “Raphael, you made good use of the distractions offered by your brothers to take a quick lead in this exercise.” The self satisfaction in the burly boys’ smirk was hard to miss, but easy to dispel. “A lead that you just as quickly lost when you tried to muscle your way through our skirmish and allowed your temper to unbalance you.”

Splinter could see his son clenching his fists in an effort to reign in his frustration now. He took the opportunity to relieve his second son of the lightbulb in his hand before it was fractured by the turtle’s rising ire. “Not all situations can be muscled through, my son, even after the mission has been completed, they require a delicate touch.” He held the painted bulb up to the sunlight filtering through the trees and admired the marbled patterning that was revealed. “When we show gentleness and respect to that which seems fragile, it will surprise you the beauty that can then shine from within.”

Raphael’s “Yes, Sensei,” was gruff, but when Splinter returned the red bulb to him, it was cradled with care in the boy’s large, calloused hand. The rat then turned his attention to his youngest, who by now was fidgety and tired of waiting for his turn. The rat smiled and shook his head, but there was no agitation at his son’s usual antics.

“Michelangelo.” The pride in Splinter’s voice was not easily hidden, nor should it have been. “You did very well. You made the most of the opportunities given you and moved with a great deal of stealth. I am most impressed with your use of smoke bombs, though my lungs may not be all that happy about the intrusion.” The short child danced from foot to foot at the praise, his intact ribbon on the unmarred tire swaying back and forth with his movements, a happy squeal sounding in his throat though his mouth remained closed. “You struck with precision, but did not engage unnecessarily. If you had only not been so boastful at the beginning and kept your bulb in tact, I would have no complaints about your performance.”

Though it hardly seemed possible, the young turtle’s smile stretched even broader. As his father and brothers looked on in bewilderment, Michelangelo opened his mouth wide and took a perfectly intact lightbulb out of his mouth. It only had occasional splotches of orange on the saliva covered glass but the turtle’s bright tongue showed where the majority of the pigment had transferred to.

At a loss for words, Splinter blinked, torn between worry and admiration at his son’s ingenuity. His freckled son laughed as his brothers groaned.

“It would seem that I have no complaints, after all. A very creative solution, my son. You have won the challenge, Michelangelo,” the bemused rat said at length.

“Oh a come on!!” Raphael exclaimed as his younger brother hopped around the room in victory, sticking out his orange painted tongue and waving the bulb in their faces.

Splinter indulged the shenanigans for a moment, Michelangelo had earn the bragging rights after all, before calling them all back to attention. “I hope you have all learned from today’s exercises. Our battles are not always limited to the combatants. Those who are innocent can often become embroiled in our conflicts. They may be fragile, but they are worth our protection. They may be cumbersome, but they deserve our strength. We must give them our skills, our stealth, and our ingenuity. To give any less than our very best is to put them in greater danger. Understood?”

A unified, “Hai, Sensei.” filled the dojo.

“Good. Now go and prepare for tonight’s mission. Michelangelo.”

“Yes Sensei?”

“Gwynevere will be under your protection tonight.”

The young turtle smiled, but Splinter could see a firm determination in his eyes. “I’ll keep her safe, Master.”

The rat patted the boy’s shoulder. “I know you will, my son. I know you will.”

The slow and steady drip from a nearby pipe was off tempo with her wildly beating heart. It was as if the universe itself were trying to compel her to take her companion's’ advice. Calm down, take slow breaths, and don’t worry.

“They will be fine, Eliza,” Splinter said once again and it was the last straw.

“Mr. Hamato.” She turned to face him, the stoic confidence in his ratty face only serving to irritate her more. The ferret-woman tried her best to remember the manners drilled into her since childhood, but was unable to keep the strain out of her voice. “You may be accustomed to your children running around New York City free range, but I am not. You must forgive me if the prospect makes me feel a bit… apprehensive."

She let out a puff of air and started to feel the tingles of remorse crawl up the back of her head. She really shouldn’t be so short with Yoshi, after all it had been her idea for Gwyn to be included in this mission. At the time it only seemed logical. Gwyn had been doing simple errands on her own for years, she had no doubts that her daughter could go into the lobby of their hotel and make it to their room in order to let the boys in with no trouble. Conveniently they had decided to stay at an older building with windows that actually opened. It seemed a better solution than breaking in, though the turtles had argued that they could do so with little trouble. After packing, the boys would leave via the rooftops with the luggage and Gwynevere would exit the front, depositing their key cards in the night dropbox on her way out.  

“I don’t mean to doubt you,” the ferret said. “I’m sure that everything will be fine. I just wish that I could have gone with them.”

Splinter looked up through the grate that gave them a limited view of the street, his face calm, but a hint of resignation in his voice. “I know the feeling very well. All that we can do now is place our trust in them and wait.”

Eliza looked the rat-man up and down. He had on the same robe that he wore in the lair, though the hood, that must normally be tucked in, was pooled around the base of his thick neck. He was tall and broadly built, and Eliza had seen and experienced first-hand the power, speed, and skill the body hidden underneath the maroon cloak was capable of. “I know that’s not all you can do,” she said, unable to keep all of the irritation from her voice. “Why didn’t you go along?”

Splinter said nothing, but gave her a poignant look. Eliza huffed and leaned against a spot on the wall that looked relatively free of muck and slime. “Oh yeah, that’s right, both you and Mikey are on babysitting duty.” The rat remained silent and returned his attention to his street vigil.

Anxious about the idea of Gwynevere out and about in the city, but knowing that she was just overacting, Eliza sought to calm her nerves with a silent word of prayer. Folding her arms and tucking her muzzle to her chest she allowed the words to form in her head.

Dear Father in Heaven, I am thankful to thee that thou hast guided me to a safe harbor in minest hour of need. Please, I beseech thee, watch over and protect Gwynevere as she helps in the retrieval of our possessions. Protect her protectors, that they mights remain unseen. Guide and direct them all, that no harm or accident willst befall them. I pray Father, that thou wilt be with me, that I might know that I can put my trust in this family, that I might return unto them the kindness that they have shown unto us. Again Father, I thank thee for thy guidance and pray that we all return to the lair again in safety. I pray these things, and seek any other blessings that seest that we stand of, in the name of Christ Jesus. Amen.

Eliza felt tingle sweep up her back and envelope the crown of her head. Immediately her shoulders relaxed and she felt the tension that she had been holding onto drain away. Her heart filled with gratitude and she knew that everything was going to be okay. It’s funny that this was the way it worked most of the time. Eliza was very good at working herself up into a ball of anxiety, fretting and worrying about every little detail, going over it a hundred times in her mind, until she could barely make a decision without tripping over her own doubt.

Yet, when she remembered to stop and pray, the world itself seemed to stop with her. Even if things were bad, she suddenly had the fortitude to face it all head on. That feeling was almost addictive, and she wondered why it often took her so long to seek out that comfort. Eliza would have continued her personal reflection, but was distracted by a buzzing vibration from her left breast. The ferret laughed at herself as she pulled her muted phone from her bra, she really needed to sew some pockets into her skirt.

“Elizabeth.”

“Don’t you Elizabeth me, Yoshi.” The woman responded without hesitation as she opened the text message. “I put it on vibrate, not my fault your ears are so big.”

She thought the snort she got out of him sounded amused before he schooled himself. “Who is it this time?”

She had meant to ask Donatello to give her the wifi password earlier but had forgotten to in the preparations to depart. Eliza’s phone had pretty much blown up with messages, alerts and back logged mail as soon as they had gotten close enough to the surface for the phone to pick up an outside signal. She ignored them all, disabled the locator function, at Donnie’s request, and put the device on vibrate before returning it to her ‘built in purse’, as her husband used to be fond of calling her ample cleavage.

“No one important,” was what she said, though it’s not what she felt as she began to clumsily type out a response, her claw tipped pads were not as smart phone friendly as her humans digits used to be.

Had fun yesterday. Would love to hang out again before you leave town. I could take you and Gwyn to a Broadway show. :)

no cant somthn came up

R u ok?

Eliza looked forlornly at the simple message. She had really liked Lee. He had a lot of attributes that she had been looking for. Kind, hardworking, persistent in pursuing her, but respectful of the boundaries she established. She had enjoyed their conversations over the past few months and he was part of the reason for her detour to NYC. It didn’t hurt that she found him attractive, though his receding hairline was apparent despite his military style buzz cut, and his kisses had been pleasant, if overly eager, once the initial awkwardness had been gotten past.

Who would have guessed that such a wonderful evening would have ended in her life being torn apart. The good feelings that she had from that night would be forever tainted, she knew herself well enough to realize it was the truth. She couldn’t lead Lee on, to allow him to believe that their meeting and few days together would lead to something more. To something that they had both desperately wanted.

leavin town early. Had fun but don think itll work. Take care.

Eliza’s thumb hovered for a moment, debating if it was really necessary, before ultimately hitting the send button. The drainage tunnel was heavy with silence before her phone vibrated violently in her hand. With a sigh, she swiped the red receiver icon and set the phone to airplane mode. Nothing good was going to come from any conversation Lee wanted to have. She had more important concerns now, anyway.

“Are they on their way back yet?” she asked her ratty lookout. Splinter shook his head, but said nothing. Eliza resigned herself to the wait, and the lack of conversation, and tried her best to ignore the compulsion to check her phone again. The minutes of silent waiting seemed to stretch on forever before she noticed a shift in her companion’s body language.

It started with his ears, they swiveled and twitched independently in various directions before honing in on a single source. Intrigued, and frankly having nothing better to do, Eliza mimicked his movements. Or at least tried to. She could twist her ears if she consciously chose to do so, rotating first one, and then the other, but found it easier to make subtle adjustments in the positioning of her head once she found a sound worthy of interest. Her now long and flexible neck giving her a wide range of movement.

It took much longer than the rat, but the mutated woman was able to discern what she believed he was hearing. A little ways past the grate, she didn’t have the experience to tell how far, someone was having a conversation. She couldn’t make out much of what was actually being said, but could discern that it was a man and a woman. His voice had a low thrum to it that would have easily made him a baritone if he sang. The woman’s voice was high and nasally, when she laughed it was so distinctive that Eliza would have guessed that her humor was faked. Then she noticed Splinter take inquisitive sniff, almost immediately following his body stiffened. He then deliberately turned ears, nose, and body in the opposite direction of the couple.  

Intrigued, Eliza stepped forward to fill the space he had vacated. The couple was about twelve feet away from the grate, tucked away in the alcove of a closed storefront, and completely oblivious to world. Their hands explored each other fervently as they kissed passionately. Eliza felt an instant surge of envy, so much so that she could feel her fur bristling in agitation. It was bad enough that her life was in turmoil, did the universe really have to shove what she had just lost in her face?  She turned away from the scene stiffly, much as Splinter had, disgusted by the display itself and her reaction to it.

However she couldn’t turn off her ears and was privy to their conversation when they eventually took a break from attempting to suck each other’s tongues out.

“You gotta go ta work tomorrow, baby?”

“Yeah. But I’m sure I could push my morning meeting back a few hours.”

“Well, come on then. Let’s have go have some fun.”

“After you sweetheart.”

The sound of high heels tapping on the concrete, moving away from their location, was a welcome sound to Eliza’s abused ears. She was reluctant to look over at the other occupant of the drainage tunnel, knowing that Splinter had heard exactly what she had. When she did muster up the courage, she was surprised to find that he wasn’t there. Looking around frantically, she spotted him several yards away, waiting underneath the manhole cover that the children had exited through a little over thirty minutes ago.

The sound of metal scraping against metal was followed by the tall rat-mutant being encompassed in a dim column of light, then the first piece of luggage was passed through the opening. Eliza rushed over to assist, taking mental inventory as the bags were handed from the turtle above to Splinter, to her, and she stacked them against the wall.

There were far more than she remembered having. Then she realized that they had not taken the time she normally did, to pack in the tight precise manner that her naval father had instilled in her. Her make-up case was not tucked into the main case. Neither was the mesh bag of things to be laundered. There were also the various shopping bags of gifts and souvenirs that she had yet to tetris into the available space. What was two pieces of luggage and a backpack for her and her daughter each, had spread out to nearly a dozen items passed down into the sewers. Eliza could feel her cheeks flush with embarrassment at the impression of excess materialism that she must be making.

“That’s all of it,” came a whisper from above and Splinter moved away from the entrance to allow Donatello and Raphael drop into the space.  

“Where are your brothers and Gwynevere?” Splinter asked, beating Eliza to the same question.

“Mikey and Gwyn stayed behind to make a final sweep of the room and then she was going to lock the window behind him. Leo went back to keep a lookout once he dropped his load,” Donatello volunteered.

“Yeah, talk about a load and a half,” Raphael groused. “You sure this is all for the two of you?”

Eliza bent to rearrange the pile, feeling self-conscious, stuffing her purse and make-up bag inside her backpack. “I wasn’t expecting to leave the hotel for another few days. It’s just all spread out.”

“No explanation is needed, Mrs. VonHetrz,” Splinter offered diplomatically. “Raphael, Donatello, start back to the lair, make sure that the path remains unencumbered.”

With a grunt, the burly teen grabbed the largest suitcase, holding it high so that it wouldn’t be dragged through the trickle of water on the tunnel’s floor, and slung the duffle of dirty clothes over his shoulder. Donatello followed suit, grabbing a medium size bag and her laptop case.

“I can hook you into our system if you like,” he said with an eager smile.

“Umm, thank you,” she said with a nod as she stood and slung her pack across her back. “You’ll have to wait for me though, it’s password protected.”

“Oh, that’s not a problem, Mrs. V.” He gave her a jaunty salute and he and his brother were gone before she could offer a protest.

“What is this?” Splinter asked, inspecting a wide flat rectangular padded bag with ‘YAMAHA’ emblazoned on the front pocket.

“That’s Gwyn’s keyboard. She has a recital in two weeks and I have a choir performance the Sunday after we get home. Vacation or not, we had to get some practice time in.” Eliza frowned, realizing what she had just said. “Well, we did. Guess it doesn’t really matter now.”

Splinter’s ears flattened against his head and he looked as if wanted to say something, but thought better of it. Instead, he lifted the bag and looped the shoulder strap across his chest so that the keyboard rested against his back, leaving his hands free, looking very much like a sheath for a ridiculously large great sword out of some fantasy video game.

The thought made Eliza smile. Splinter’s existence, and she guessed her own now, was so far fetched that they would fit better in a fantasy RPG than underneath one of the most famous cities in the world, exactly where reality itself had landed them. Life truly was strange.

They had to wait several more minutes before the last of the children made their appearance. Mikey entered first, quickly followed Gwyn who squealed with joy as she jumped into the turtle’s waiting arms, and nearly giving her mother a heart attack in the process. Leonardo was the last to join the group, neatly closing the manhole cover behind him.

After Gwyn was placed on her feet, she immediately came to her mother and embraced her firmly. “That was so much fun!”

“Oh really?” The ferret responded, as she not so subtly looked over her offspring for any sign of injury.

“Yeah! I wasn’t scared this time and opened my eyes when Mikey let me piggy back - or I guess it would turtle back - shell backed? Anyway, when he gave me a ride back from the hotel. It wasn’t that long, but it was like being on a rollercoaster! I wanna do it again!” The girl was obviously enthusiastic about her recent adventure.

Eliza was reminded of the first time that Gwyn had been to an amusement park. The girl had the same adrenaline fueled glimmer in her eyes then, too. She hoped it wasn’t a trend that she would have to look out for in the future. Overall ,she was just happy that everything had gone well tonight.

“I doubt that we’ll need to go roof hopping again anytime in the future, but I’m glad you had fun, sweetheart. Now, grab a bag and lets head back to the Hamato’s home.” She ruffled the girl’s windblown hair. “Don’t know about you, but I’m looking forward to a wardrobe change.” The ferret laughed, plucking at her still torn skirt.

“Kay.” Gwyn smiled happily and went to grab her backpack only to have Mikey snatch it up first.

“I got it, dudette. It’s kinda heavy.” He smiled at mother and daughter enthusiastically. “You almost left all your yummy stuff behind. I put them in here, so it’s loaded right now, no worries though, I got this.”

Eliza VonHertz frowned as she wracked her brain. She didn’t remember having much food in the room besides a couple candy bars and a bag of chips, hardly anything that could be considered heavy. The rest of the group had started down the tunnel and she trotted to catch up.

“Michelangelo, hold up a sec and let me see that bag.” The turtle shrugged in confusion, but handed the pack over without protest. Eliza was indeed surprised by the heft of it. What in the world could be in here? She wondered to herself.

The mystery was easily solved as she opened the zipper and was presented with bags of pistachios, premium pretzels and gourmet chocolates, to name just a few of the selections. Included in the haul was no less than eight tiny bottles of liquor. He had cleaned out the mini-fridge, adding a good $150 or more to her hotel bill. Eliza groaned and closed the zipper, giving the bag back to the now confused turtle to carry back to the lair.

“Something wrong, Mrs. V?” he asked with genuine concern.