"Shmmph! Pow! Shumph!"
"Hee-yaw!" April yelled, the redhead girl throwing a particularly savage punch at the black fabric of the punching bag before her. Rocking back and forth, an unknowing observer might think only feathers laid within the rough folds of cloth. After all, it was not every day that you saw a small girl leave such an impact.
Right as the bag started swaying to the right, it was stopped by two pairs of hands, which were followed by a face peeking out from the side. Grinning through gapped teeth and unkempt black hair was Casey Jones, April's closest friend and confidante. When she had made the decision to take college courses, she was worried about a lack of familiar faces, and hadn't shown much hope for Jones to follow in her academic lead. When they were in high school together, he had always shirked off and taken advantage of her notes to get passing grades. But somehow, even though his GPA was lower than the national average, he had managed to slip by through a hockey scholarship and quickly reaffirmed his presence as a staple in her life.
However, while April had maintained constant contact with the hockey-loving vigilante, her more unnatural friends had given her a wide berth. It had been many months since she had seen the turtles, as she had made her last visit to the lair during winter break so they could celebrate Christmas together; or, as Mikey had dubbed it, 'Santa-Awesome-Present-Presenting-Time!' Raph often opted to switch the T with a Y and just call it 'Sappy.'
The memory of spending yuletide with the turtles brought a small smile to her face but was quickly replaced with a frown. The time had flown away from her after December, with the many exams and papers providing a never-ending amount of work for her to focus on. And on top of that, she often found herself tutoring Casey and her fellow students on the material, and during the beginning of her summer term her father suffered from an extreme mental breakdown. Different assignments and responsibilities always seemed to be piling up on her schedule, and she was finding it harder and harder to fit in any free time. But despite these reasonings, she could not help but look at the autumn leaves outside with feelings of guilt. It had been way too long since she had last seen the turtles, a mistake she meant to alleviate soon now that fall break was here.
"April, Earth to April!" Casey was calling, waving his hand frantically in front of her face. "You with me, Red?"
Giggling slightly at his antics, April pushed his hand away. "Nice window-washer impression, Jones. And yes, I'm fine…I just have a lot of different thoughts in my head."
"Was one of them the amazing Casey Jones?" Casey smirked, leaning against the punching bag in what he assumed was an attractive 'bad boy' pose.
She rolled her eyes, barely avoiding the itching temptation to push him off the bag. While he had his cute moments, Casey had the unique talent of being funny in one moment and annoying in the next.
"No Sherlock, I was thinking about the turtles. I'm angry at myself for waiting so long to visit them, I hope they're doing alright." she replied, her irritated expression turning to one more akin to sisterly concern.
"Oh yeah, that makes more sense. It did kinda look like you were letting out some frustration on the punching bag." Casey said, shooting a pointed look at the worn spots of fabric where April had obviously placed many blows.
April merely nodded in response, her vision blurring in and out. She was so frustrated by all the exhausted tension filling her mind; she'd agreed to go with Casey to the gym in order to relax, not to get even more stressed. Though she hadn't used her psychic prowess in a while, she could still feel clouds of worry hanging thickly around Casey, like tufts of cotton floating in the air. Seeing the mirrored reflection of herself in his eyes, she couldn't really blame him. Despite pulling her hair into a tight ponytail in order to alleviate sweat, beads of perspiration were evident on her cheek, neck, and arms. Dark circles rimmed the edges of her lower eyelids, and her expression seemed more distant, unfocused and tired. If April had seen Casey looking like this, she'd be worried too.
"Are you doing okay, Red? You seem…well, kinda antsy." Casey asked, softening his tone and deciding to rephrase his words in mid-sentence. It was almost like he'd read her mind, which was ironic considering she was the psychic one.
"I'm fine Casey, just tired." She managed to give him a weary smile, determined to put his mind at ease. While there was a lot on her plate, she knew matters were not much better for Casey either. His family's financial status had gotten worse, as the increasing economic crisis in New York caused his father to be laid off from his job. The only source of income keeping the lights on at the Jones household was Casey's financial aid money, which could be taken away with a simple bad test or paper grade.
"Maybe it's best if you hit the sack, then." Casey replied, concern still evident on his face. He wasn't sure how true April's words were, but he knew more sleep certainly would not hurt the redhead.
April nodded, her expression placid. She moved away from the punching bag, but abruptly stopped as the shrill sound of her phone's ringtone pierced the air.
Casey's ringtone had gone off at the same moment, the NHL theme causing a discordant mix of sounds between his phone and April's. He looked up at her and laughed, a sheepish look on his face. "What can I say, I live sleep and breathe hockey."
The redhead wasn't paying attention, however; April's full focus was directed on her phone screen. Her eyes quickly darted up and down the phone, and her face lit up as she pored over the words. When she was done reading the text, she turned her head up and cast a mischievous grin towards Casey.
"There's been a change of plans, Jones…looks like sleeping will have to wait."
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A cold evening air had begun to blow upon the streets of New York City. Scattered papers and rustling cardboard were tossed up in a frenzy, then faded back to the ground with the instantaneity of dashed hopes and dreams. The sharp whistling sound that was the wind's calling card created a striking contrast with the murmuring voices and softer noises of pedestrians and cars passing by. While winter had yet to reach the East Coast, the proximity of the Atlantic meant that the temperature declined more quickly here compared to the rest of the Eastern States.
Unfortunately, the frigid climate was not very accommodating for cold-blooded mutants. Donnie shivered, trying to shake the chilly wind away with his limbs. Though he and his brothers had tried their best to don appropriate attire, wearing both their spirit cloaks and the scarves April had given them, the clothing wasn't sufficient to completely thwart the danger of the piercing cold. If he had known Leo was going out in such weather, Donnie would have scolded him for taking unnecessary risks.
Of course, without Leo taking those risks, they would never have learned that the mutagen was disappearing.
Donnie uttered a solitary sigh, causing a puff of exhaled air to escape his lips. He couldn't believe how long it was taking him to find a cure for Timothy. Sure, the kid had been obnoxious, loud, and annoying. And throughout their relationship, he had caused Donnie nothing but trouble. But he was just an innocent human, and he had been horribly disfigured and mutated on Donnie's watch. Donnie could still remember the flash of emotions which poured through his mind when he watched the mutagen flow over Timothy; the regret, the shock, horror, awe, sorrow, and most of all, the guilt. He had done a lot of things he regretted, but nothing caused him more grief than that night.
Ever since then, he had spent all his spare time and effort trying to cure the boy. He'd read up on biological dismemberments, gelatinous beings, mutational properties, and all sorts of scientific studies. He'd consulted various experts through internet chatlines, wiled away the night hours experimenting, and looked through phone books in desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, a relative's genes would help create a retromutagen for Timothy. But eventually his time was taken up with other pursuits, adding even more guilt that the boy's fate was being pushed aside for his own selfish reasons. Donnie had trained him, so it was solely his responsibility to care for him. And on that front, he had absolutely failed.
"Donnie! You might want to pay attention!"
Mikey's shrill voice woke the purple turtle from his pensive stupor, just in time to slip on a particularly wide puddle. Waving his arms wildly about him, Donnie stumbled and ended up falling on his knees. Sharply inhaling, he inwardly thanked his lucky stars for Mikey's warning and his kneepads. If he had fallen face-forward, he was sure the damage would be much worse than a slight ringing pain.
"Come on Donnie, keep your shell in the game." Raph rolled his eyes, more annoyed than concerned. Which was a usual reaction for Raph.
"S-sorry, I was just distracted." Donnie confessed, a blush creeping over his beak. He knew it was stupid to get so emotionally tied down, but he couldn't help feeling embarrassed and stupid whenever he messed up in front of his brothers. They had all been training for the same amount of time, yet he still felt behind them in some ways. Leo and Raph could always stay focused on the main task at hand, and though Mikey and the word 'focus' were antonyms to the highest degree, Mikey never seemed to second-judge his actions or struggle over words the way Donnie did. But Donnie needed time to think things through, to calculate the best possible outcome and make plans to succeed in his goals. Heck, he still had never revealed his true feelings to April, and he had known her for four years now.
He had also been unable to heal Timothy within those four years.
Once again, deep feelings of regret and guilt began to settle and fester inside the purple-banded turtle. Even as Leo called for them to continue moving, and Donnie jumped off the ledge of the brick-tiled building and onto another roof, he stared at the opaque darkness with sorrowful brown eyes. He had never been overly obsessed with philosophy, but as he leapt from roof to roof, thoughts about his true purpose began to sweep over him. For a long time, he had thought that his true potential lay beyond the singular focus of ninja life, where stealth and combat skills were the main attributes of all members. He had thought that there was surely more potential out there, lying just beyond his ken and waiting for him to find it. However, if he could not even save one teenager, then what could he hope to accomplish outside the realm of ninjutsu? Could he really dare to call himself a scientist, when there was a problem he had not solved in four years?
He jumped over a particularly wide expanse and reached out with his hand to grab the side of a fire escape. Using his momentum, he backflipped over to the roof from there, landing neatly in a doko ichimonji position.
As he nimbly maneuvered through the rooftop, some of his confidence began to return. Of course, he could still call himself a scientist, there were tons of scientists out there looking for cures to cancer and other diseases for longer than four years. He was being silly, and letting his mind run away from him again.
Donnie exhaled heavily, then stiffened as Leo put a finger up to his beak.
"Shhh, we're here." The blue-banded leader looked right and left, then whispered "Let's remain quiet in case there are humans nearby. We don't want to reveal the location of the Mutanimals lair."
Raph, Donnie, and Mikey simply nodded in silent agreement, knowing better than to disobey Leo's request. With a small smile, Leo nodded as well before stealthily moving forward, using the shadows from the rooftop apertures to encase his presence.
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Raph beckoned forward with his head, meaning that he wanted to take up the rear position. Donnie and Mikey quickly ran forward, with Mikey's footsteps bouncing a little too loudly for Leo's liking. He shot a glare at the two of them, before lightly stepping out of the shadows and then sliding down the fire escape.
"After you," Mikey whispered, giggling as if he'd made some big joke. Donnie shrugged his shoulders wryly before stepping forward, taking special care to quiet his steps. He reached the stairs to the fire escape, and mirrored Leo's technique in sliding down them swiftly. Two thumps behind him were all the noise Raph and Mikey made in heading down, the brothers utilizing their skills in stealth to the utmost.
Focusing his attention in front of him, Donnie tried to gain a thorough observation of his surroundings. The streets before them seemed to be abandoned, with loose pieces of trash and dirt littering the cracked asphalt of the road. There was only one source of light, a blinking streetlamp which was plastered with rust and a various assortment of stickers. The building before them had an old, worn-down sign labelled "Meat Packing Factory," with blacked out windows and broken glass. The other facilities around the Meat Packing Factory all seemed to be in a similar state, with the only sign of habitation being the large collection of refuse collected over time.
"Dude, why would the Mighty Mutanimals hide here?" Mikey asked, following Donnie and Raph as they rushed to catch up with Leo. "You'd think they'd want a fancier hangout."
"Probably the same reason we live in the sewers; to avoid detection. After all, their last base was set on fire when Shredder found it." Donnie whispered back, wondering how even Mikey couldn't find that obvious answer on his own. It wasn't like any of them could ever live in a suite or hotel, not when humans hid at the sight of them.
"Can we talk now, Leo?" Raph asked, his voice strained even through his hushed tones. "It's not like there's going to be many humans in a place like this."
"It doesn't hurt to be cautious, all the same." Leo whispered in response, then gestured for them to head inside the factory.
Nodding in agreement, Raph headed through first, lunging headfirst through one of the glassless windows. Shaking his head at his recklessness, Leo simply opened the rickety wooden door and walked in.
"You go first this time." Donnie said, bowing exaggeratingly for Mikey to pass.
"Why thank you my good sir." Mikey giggled, before lightly jumping in from foot to foot.
Donnie then followed suit, walking through the door more slowly then Mikey and Leo. His earlier feelings of apprehension were returning, and he felt less than thrilled at the prospect of stepping inside. His family didn't have a great record when it came to meat factories; memories of Tigerclaw capturing Karai returned to his head, clouding his thoughts and making his footsteps tread heavier.
However, once he stepped inside his mindset turned more positive. For before his eyes was the one person who could always brighten his day, the one face that could always usher a smile out of Donnie.
"April! You're here!"
The red-headed psychic beamed, a smile also on her face. Though her features had narrowed out and matured with the passing of years, the freckles and her ever-present ponytail remained the same as ever. Her black and yellow jumpsuit also ushered in tons of nostalgia, with memories of past battles and younger teenage years coming to the forefront of his mind. All at once his worries had been put at ease, relief found in her presence.
"What am I, chopped liver?! Casey Jones is here too!" yelled the masked vigilante behind her, characteristically speaking in third person.
"It's good to see you too." Raph said, a smile on his face as well. "But why are you two here? I thought you were moving on from this kind of stuff."
"Hah! Casey Jones will never let bad guys rest."
"The truth is, Karai asked us to come." April responded, giving a more satisfactory answer than Casey's boasts. "She texted us an hour ago, said she wanted to discuss the gang activity going on lately."
"That's the same thing she told us." Leo said. "Though we're also worried about the Kraang. They've been making some very suspicious moves and setting up bases near chemical factories in the city."
"You don't think they're trying to take over New York again, do you?" Casey asked, frustration evident in his voice. "When will they finally give it up? How many times do we have to smack down those tin cans?!"
"I don't know, but I can't say I'm too upset. Things have been rather too quiet lately." Raph said, cracking his knuckles with a maniacal smile on his face. "It'll be nice to have some punching bags that fight back for a change."
"I couldn't agree more, Raphael."
Karai's crisp, distinct voice broke through their conversation, causing them all to turn around and see her standing behind the counter with crossed arms and a smirk. She tipped her head to the left, gesturing to the door beside her.
"Enough chit-chat, let's get this meeting started."
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The inside of the factory warehouse was more accommodating than the dilapidated exterior would have one believe. Though the single lightbulbs hanging from a string, the multiple dust motes in the air, and cobwebbed corners of the ceiling would never win the building any beauty contests, there was still a homy element thanks to the little touches the Mutanimals had added. There were four separate blocks that each oozed very distinct personalities. One corner held a vast variety of different weapons, from axes, maces, and pikes to broadswords and clubs. A queen size mattress was shoved in a disheveled manner to the side, so that there was space for over ten punching bags, a table with some maps of the city on it, and a raggedy blanket with some spike-shaped holes. Another corner had a bookshelf full of music records, with a vintage record player surrounded by candles and a lush wide beanbag. The area next to it was a massive 90's callback, with skateboards, rock posters, and neon paint splattering a very colorful greeting on the cement floor.
However, it was by the top right section that everyone gathered. Rockwell had assembled an impressive amount of technology to create his 'office,' as over ten different computer monitors displayed differing camera feeds around the former meat packing facility. A massive keyboard with both familiar and foreign letters lay underneath the monitors, with a glowing white light illumining the keys. Three desks stood by the wall, all holding items of separate purpose. One seemed to be a science lab of sorts, with connecting tubes between beakers holding colorful liquids, some empty glass containers, and a vial of mutagen all on display. The next table held an assortment of books on various subjects, with the most catching title being "Human Brains and how to Use Them." The last table was empty, except for the gathering of humans and mutants who sat beside it.
Karai took a deep breath, looking at all the people before her with steady eyes. These were all allies who she knew for a fact she could trust, no matter what individual quirks or motives they might have. Time and time again she had relied on Shinigami, the Mighty Mutanimals, her brothers, and their human allies to stand by her side, and though the turtles had betrayed her once, they were also the ones who had finally done the most difficult task; faced her father head-on and destroyed him.
Adoptive father, she reminded herself sternly. Shredder had been her father in name only, as Karai's only fond memories with the evil crime lord had been their training sessions and small moments of recognition that he gave her. But Splinter, her true father, had shown a more natural affection than Shredder ever could. Even though she had spent many more years in Shredder's company, Splinter had listened, had taken the time to learn and care and comfort her in the space of the few weeks they had been together. That was how a true father acted.
Clearing her throat, Karai promptly began. "Welcome, everyone. I'm sure you're all eager to get to the point of this meeting, so I'll make this short."
"There has been a ton more gang activity recently, specifically from the Purple Dragons. Hun has been receiving more oversea shipments, along with an influx of recruits. In addition, we've uncovered some black-market dealings between the Purple Dragons and Vizioso's gang."
Karai nodded at Rockwell, and he pressed a button on one of his remotes. Instantly, the biggest monitor behind her lit up with a picture of a website chatroom, where someone named and naples_hat were discussing how to exchange mutagen for mutant-hunting weapons.
"Ha! 'Hun'nybear?! Now that is just too good!" Mikey burst out, and he started to laugh along with Casey and Mondo Gecko.
"I'm more concerned over how you gained access to the black web." Donnie said, lifting an eyebrow at Rockwell.
"It's not too difficult for a professional like me…well, that, and psychic experimentation is one of those subjects you want to keep hush hush about." Rockwell muttered.
"The point is, our enemies are rallying for something big." Karai said, trying to steer the conversation. "We need to find out what and stop them, before they get too far ahead of us."
"Do you have anymore hints?" Leo asked, just a second before Slash opened his mouth to ask, "How do we do that?"
"We've also intercepted a phone call between Vizioso and some outside contact." Said Karai, placing an audio recorder on the table. She pressed a few buttons, and then the distinct huskiness of Vizioso's voice began to play.
"You sure this'll be worth my time? I already got enough trouble with muties in New York."
There were a few seconds pause, and then an unfamiliar voice responded. "I assure you, Vizioso-san, once we finish our project you won't have to deal with muties anymore."
Leo's eyes shot up to meet hers, and Karai nodded in shared recognition. That voice, whoever it was, had used a Japanese honorific. And considering their shared goal of defeating all mutants, she could not help but wonder if it was some remnant of the Foot still loyal to the Shredder's ways.
The voice continued. "Meet me in Tokyo by the end of the month. We should put our final steps into place, personally."
There was another pause, and then Vizioso finally responded. "Alright. Meet you there."
The audio recorder clicked, signifying that the tape had ended. Karai took it off the table, then gave them all a mischievous smirk. "Well, I'd say that gives us a big hint."
"Yes, but how are we supposed to get there?" Leatherhead rasped, his deep tone reverberating throughout the warehouse. "It's not like we can get on a plane."
"Yeah, if humans can't accept us on ground, chances are they won't be too keen to see us in the air, either." Raph grumbled, crossing his arms.
"Come on Raph, do you really think so lowly of me?" Karai laughed, crossing her arms as well. "The Foot can supply you with air transportation, as long as you don't mind being a little cramped."
"You have a plane?" Leo asked, an incredulous note in his voice. "Last I checked, you only had a helicopter."
"Um…. yes," Karai admitted reluctantly, wishing once again that Leo wasn't so perceptive. "It's true that our mode of flight is rather small and limited, but Shinigami helped me map out the trip. As long as we make pit stops every two hours for fuel, we should be able to travel to Japan within a day."
"Two-hour pit stops?! What if humans try to search the helicopter and find us? Or it takes us longer than that to find an available airport? You're taking a lot of risks, Karai." Leo remarked, worry evident on his face.
"Yeah, the Pacific Ocean alone takes over three hours for a normal plane to fly through." Donnie said, with his face showing similar signs of concern. "Unless we just happen to land in a populated island instead of the ocean, there's no way we could make it through."
"I'm a trained pilot, believe it or not." Karai said, slamming her hands down on the table. "I've made the trip before, and while I wasn't the one flying, I have a good idea of how to cross through the Atlantic, Europe and Asia safely. You just need to trust me."
Her words settled over the group, however, they all seemed rather uneasy. Mikey and Mondo Gecko kept sharing looks, while Donnie and Raph looked at Leo with skeptical eyes.
"Look, Karai, none of us are judging your piloting skills." April said slowly, looking hesitantly between the others and Karai. "But even the most incredible vehicles out there have limits, and unlike Donnie's blimp, for example, we'd be completely reliant on fuel. And we can't fill up in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean, or the Pacific for that matter."
"What, are you saying we take Donatello's blimp instead?" Karai scoffed.
"Aahh, actually flying the blimp over that much landmass in broad daylight would be entirely too conspicuous," Donnie mumbled, but neither girl seemed to be listening.
"I'm not saying anything! I mean, I am, but…"
"Even with a blimp, we'd still have to worry about being spotted, and how would we maintain air pressure over the ocean? I'm telling you; my plan is the only one that works."
"But what if it doesn't? We can't risk our lives over something you can't guarantee." April retorted, her eyebrows quirking forward as she frowned. "After all, how are we going to stop the gang's plans if we're all dead?"
"Oh, enough with the dramatics, O'Neil! No one's going to die." Karai snorted, then turned to Shinigami. "Come on Shini, back me up here!"
Shinigami's expression had however turned from confident to hesitant during the whole conversation, and now she seemed especially uneasy. "I…I'm not sure. The turtles bring up a good point, and besides, don't you think an aircraft would be a little conspicuous?"
"Arrrgh!" Karai yelled, slamming her fists on the table in frustration. It wasn't like she was totally unaware of the risks. She knew how dangerous her proposition seemed, and the slim likelihood for success. But she thought the others would try to pull through anyway, would help her beat the odds and reach the one positive factor in a dearth of negatives. Apparently, even that had been too optimistic.
"Karai, calm down." Leo said, his tone gentle as he reached a hand across the table for her. "We can still try to think of another way to get there. Do you have any contacts that could possibly lend you a plane?"
"Not to cross the whole Pacific." Karai mumbled, slouching down in her chair. "Kurtzmann said he could arrange for a private jet to LA, but not to Japan."
"Hey, that's still pretty close!" Rockwell gasped, lifting up slightly in the air from excitement. "Maybe you could find a boat to get you the rest of the way from there!"
"Yeah, but we don't know anyone who has a boat." Shinigami said.
"You might not, but we do!" Leo said, his head instantly perking up. "Does the name 'Ivan Sterankov' ring any bells?"