TMNT: SECOND SHOT - Arc 1, Chapter 1: Introductions and Invitations ✉️
Notes at the end :)
Warnings (if there's anything I should add here, tell me please!): vague descriptions of bodily functions?? nothing is described grossly or anything (turtles don't only hide in their shells as a defense mechanism, mah boys aren't quite all there yet) (be kind) (he will be mocked at a later time 💀), sort-of homelessness, feral behavior
Words: 3,480
Summary: April really just expected a normal day.
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April hadn't expected her day to end with hauling herself out of a manhole, with unmentionable gunk and liquid caked into her pants.
But, then again, she hadn't expected the day to start the way it did, either.
She had been finishing the same breakfast that her and her roommate had been reheating for the past 3 days: a batch of muffins that they had bought at a gas station for wicked cheap. Said roommate, Irma, was pulling her pants on and talking to the room about all the things she was going to do with her Friday.
When April got to college, she thought she might not be straight. When she met Irma, she knew she wasn't. Irma was a tall, Latina woman, with a muscular build. She always had her frizzy hair up in a messy bun on top of her head, and half of it was constantly falling out around her face. April didn't want to date her by any means, but Irma was hot. And very straight.
“Soo, what do you say?” Irma said, leaning over April's shoulder and snapping her out of her distant stupor.
“Uhm, sorry?” April stammered, pushing her cat eye glasses up and grabbing her empty plate. “I don't think I caught what you said.”
“Uuuugh, come on Roja-” Irma groaned, flinging her head back, “I said there's a party tonight at Taylor's! You should totally come out! We'll get you wasted!”
Irma was a party animal, and yet she excelled in all her classes in pursuit of her medical degrees (general physician with additional studies on the side). April, on the other hand, worked her butt off for Ds and Cs. In journalism.
April stood up and brought her plate over to the sink to rinse before putting it in the dishwasher. “I don't think that'd be that good of an idea, Irm. I don't turn 21 for another few months, and I'm not exactly,” she held her hand out flat in a shaky gesture, “party material..?”
“Party material?” Irma gasped, shoving herself into April's view looking into the dishwasher. “Girl, you could decimate that place. Besides, Casey's gonna be there…” Irma finished, raising her tone slightly and speaking over her shoulder.
April's eyes suddenly widened. “You mean CJ, right?” she asked, moving to grab her jacket by the door.
“Well, CJ too, of course, but…” Irma turned to grab her backpack off the floor by the couch. “I mean Cassie Casey Jones.”
Trepidation showed itself as April pulled her jacket on. “I'll… think about it. I have to check some spots tonight, but if I have free time after, I'll come.”
“Ooooo, I knew you wouldn't let me down, Roja!” Irma squealed, grabbing around April's torso from behind and lifting her to give a tight spinning hug. “I can't wait to see you there!”
As Irma rushed out the door, April tried to call after her, reminding her that her attendance was tentative, but Irma was long gone by the time she had the chance. April was left to sit in their messy apartment for just a moment longer. After looking around and promising herself that she'll clean up over the weekend, April headed out to her first class.
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After her final class had ended, she waited on a bench for a while until CJ finally showed up. CJ had been April's best friend since day 1 of college. Sure, they didn't have any classes in common, and CJ was in studio arts and not journalism, but they stuck together like glue. CJ always wore baggy clothes over his lanky limbs, and today was no different. An oversized gray tie dye t-shirt covered more than half of his frame, with a screen printed design of a tiger on the front that he had made. Below that was a pair of huge baggy black cargo pants, almost entirely covering his white Vans. His black bangs hung limply on his face, and as soon as he appeared, April got up and they started walking.
The two had a schedule. Every Friday, after CJ got out of his last class, they would meet in the same spot and walk down to their favorite pizza place to eat dinner and talk. Sometimes they'd go get Chinese instead, if they were looking for something different. Usually the walk over would be when they talked about what already happened that day, and future discussions would wait until they had food. This was not one of those days.
“So you're seriously going to a college party?” CJ asked, slouching his posture to make the conversation a bit more comfortable for the shorter one. “How did Irma talk you into that?”
“Well, she said you're going too,” April mumbled, stuffing her hands in her jacket pockets before speaking up again. “Wait, you are going, right?”
“You think I'd leave you there alone to get eaten alive?” CJ said, smirking. “But seriously, you've never wanted to go when I mentioned I was going to a party.”
April's face reddened just a bit as she turned it away, and CJ caught the subtle change.
“She told you Cassie was coming, didn't she?”
“So what if she did!? I'm allowed to want to go to a party to hang out with a pretty girl, okay?!” April blurted out, scowling in CJ's face before turning away and crossing her arms across her chest with a pout.
April had met Cassie shortly after CJ. Well, “met” was a strong word. It was more “saw from a distance and stared in awe”. That was when she really figured out she wasn't straight. A beautiful, cute, tough girl who plays hockey and has a brain? What more could she ask for?
Maybe a tough enough spine to talk to her.
CJ just laughed and wrapped his arm around April's shoulders. “You should just let me set you guys up already. I mean, I think she thinks you're-”
“No!” April whined, grabbing CJ's shirt with the arm that wasn't being wrestled behind his back. “You can't do that! That's weird! I can't just get you to set me up with your cousin, she's gonna think I'm a weirdo, CJ!”
CJ sighed and pried April's hand off his chest, holding it to look into her eyes and halt their pace forward. “You're already being a weirdo, Apes. You've had one conversation with her. You'll never know unless you try.”
April clutched a little tighter on CJ's hand and looked to the ground between them. She was being weird, wasn't she? Normal people don't show up to hockey practices just to watch from the sidelines, even when the guy she usually talks to isn't there. Normal people don't hurry to leave when they see their crush's car pulling up to pick their best friend up. Man, she really wasn't being subtle, was she?
“Promise me you'll come. I'll get you guys talking. Sound good?” CJ said, lifting April's hand a bit to get her attention up to his face. He showed her a gentle smile, a smile reserved for just her.
April let out a sigh of defeat. “Fine, I'll be there,” she said, changing her hold on CJ's hand so they could continue walking side by side to go eat.
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April was one of many students that helped with the school's public news. They liked getting local stories, and students could get those pretty easily. April had just, coincidentally, been stuck reporting on one of the seediest parts of the area. She had already been almost mugged twice, actually mugged once, and suspiciously stared at more times than she could count. And she had only been scoping out the place for a week.
April had actually found a really nice place that had really nice food, but the blind owner didn't seem to realize how many terrible things happened just outside its walls. She decided that tonight, that would be her first stop. She still had yet to find any good stories to post that wouldn't get someone arrested or her in trouble, but maybe Murakami would have some good news for her.
As April opened the door to the small establishment and heard the ding of the bell, she was welcomed by a heavily accented voice. “Welcome in, please sit wherever you like.”
April quickly pulled a stool out at the bar to sit on. “Good evening, Mister Murakami,” she said, tapping a bit on the table to get his attention. “How are you?”
The blind man's face brightened by leaps and bounds at the familiar company. “Hello again, Miss O'Neil. I was not expecting to see you back again this soon.”
Murakami had a friendly face, wrinkles only deepened by decades of smiling and laughing. The hair on his head was thinning, and there was an obvious bald spot in the center of his scalp. Usually, April would see him wearing a pair of dark, circular sunglasses. Tonight, however, she saw that the lights inside the building were dimmed, and Murakami's thin gray eyes were on full display.
“I was hoping I could talk to you,” April said, settling her bag off her shoulder and onto the floor beside her. “I still haven't found a good story yet.”
“Oh,” Murakami said, handling a bowl and putting it to the side of a tall boiling pot. “I am sure you will find something soon. You are such a curious girl.”
April shifted in her seat. “Uhm, Mister Murakami?” She said, leaning forward a bit. “I was wanting to ask you about anything interesting going on? Something local I could write about? Maybe about you?”
Murakami's eyebrows raised at the question. He started ladling soup from the large pot into the bowl in his other hand. “Oh, Miss O'Neil, I don't have anything interesting going on,” he said with a chuckle, “I am not an interesting person!” He laughed for a moment, before his face shifted to be more contemplative. “Well, there is my trash…” he mumbled under his breath, putting the filled bowl of soup in front of April. “Eat up, it's on me.”
“Oh, thank you Mister Murakami!” April said, happily grabbing the ceramic spoon presented to her and taking a scoop of soup to blow on. “Uhm, what did you mean by ‘your trash’? Could you elaborate?”
Murakami looked confused by the word choice.
“Could you tell me more?”
“Oh,” Murakami said, continuing to ladle the soup out. “It is nothing exciting, just a little odd, really.” He scooped silently for a moment, filling a few packages to be sold by the door so they could be reheated. April admired the business model.
“My trash has been getting looked through by someone every few days for a few years. I figured it was just some person in need. I even saw them once! Not well, of course, I haven't seen well for many years. Very brightly colored clothing.”
“Okay,” April asked, pulling her phone out to take notes. “What about this is odd?”
“Well,” he continued, “as of a few months ago, I have reason to believe that…” Murakami paused, closing the lid of a plastic container tightly. “That whatever is searching through my trash is not human.”
April sat more upright on the stool, stopping her motion to take a sip of the delicious soup in front of her. “And what reason is that?”
“A strange smell left behind,” Murakami said, stacking the packages of soup and moving them to the side, “and claw marks, deep enough in the walls that I could feel them. Mostly near my fence. And recently, it has been taking more. It must be getting hungrier.”
April lowered her spoon into the bowl. “And you said you saw it?” She asked, receiving a nod in reply. “How big was it?”
“Oh, at least the size of a child. That's why I thought it was human,” Murakami said, starting to clean the space around him. “That, and the fact that it always opens the bags so neatly and leaves no mess.”
Her fingers moved rapidly as April jotted down every note she could. “You said it comes every few nights. Do you know when it might come next?”
“Well,” Murakami said, a gentle smile returning to his face, “I have not seen it in-”
He was cut off by a soft clang sounding through the wall to April's left. Murakami's smile only widened as he moved his blind gaze back in April's direction. “What is that saying,” he said, gesturing with his hands, “if you talk of the devil?”
April quickly finished the soup in front of her and shoved the stool back, slinging her backpack over one shoulder. “Wait,” Murakami said, halting her swift movement to the door. “Use the employee door, back here. It will get you closer. Perhaps you can see it before it runs.”
April followed Murakami's lead toward the back of the store, with excitement filling her veins, to a door bookended by two metal shelves full of ingredients. “Thank you, Mister Murakami,” she said, gliding around him to reach the door.
“It is no problem, Miss O'Neil. I wish you luck,” he said, giving a small wink before turning to go back to the front of the store.
As quietly and slowly as she could, April opened the door. As soon as it was even subtly ajar, the rumbling and shuffling of trash being thrown around became more audible. The door opened in a way that meant she would have to open it all the way to see the dumpster, so she elected to open it just enough for her body to peek out. That meant less light would shine out, anyway. As she finally got it open enough, she stepped onto the concrete step down in front of the doorway and peered around to spot the culprit.
It seemed that during the time April took to open the door, the creature had already rifled through the dumpster as much as it wanted to. She could see a few trash bags still pulled slightly open within, with small punctures left around their openings. She had to look further around the door, further left, to actually find the thing.
It was turned away from her (thank jesus), but April was able to get a view of the bright colors mentioned by Murakami. It looked like some sort of black and orange heavy duty backpack, shaped to mimic the shell of a turtle. The rest of the figure was obscured by the darkness and the other trash bags on the floor, a few showing obvious signs that they were previously searched through. Next to one of the already scavenged bags sitting behind the creature was a purple soft cooler, with scraps of fish and discarded vegetables filling it.
If this thing wasn't human, why was it using a cooler?
April started easing the door closed as she stepped off the concrete step, just as the figure lifted its head, hands full of more scraps of meat and vegetables. April could hardly see the figure as the little light from inside started to vanish, but she swore she could see scaly, dark gray and red skin, and a beaked face.
That wasn't a backpack, was it? It was a shell. A real shell.
The thing in front of her was a giant, freaky turtle. The size of a person. In the shape of a person.
And now, it was staring her dead in the face with round, glazed over eyes.
If Cassie didn't think she was a weirdo yet, there was no way she could deny it after what she tried to do next.
She took in a deep breath before speaking in the softest whisper she could muster. “Hey, little guy..?” she said, moving her leg the slightest bit to step closer. “Are you hungry?”
The monster- no, the turtle before her flinched and sat up slightly when it noticed the movement. Its head started jerking up and down, as though analyzing if April was a threat. It started to move to the side, rearing up and-
“OH EW! EWEWEWEWEW-” April shouted, stumbling backwards into the brick wall in her attempt to avoid the warm liquid flung at her to no avail, as she watched the dark spots form on her sweatpants. “DUDE THAT IS SO GROSS!!!”
The beast made no response, just rushing to the fence to April's right and beginning to climb along the chain links. It moved at a speed that surprised her. Not like an Olympic rock climber or anything, but much faster than the average person. Much faster than April could.
As the creature was closer, she could finally make out more details about it. It was definitely the size of a person, maybe taller than her even, and looked like it had a similar anatomy. Its hands had thumbs, but only two fingers. That seemed to carry down to its feet as well. Its giant shell was covered in scutes that each showed a black and orange gradient, and its skin had a dark gray to orange-red pattern to it. Its eyes were small, and looked almost youthful. Obviously scared, of course.
April almost fell over trying to get away from the fence, but quickly realized she shouldn't do that unless she wanted to fall right into mystery turtle monster pee. While stabilizing herself, she took a glance back to where the monster had run from, only to spot that the purple soft cooler had been left behind, practically overflowing with scraps.
She carefully jogged over, closing the lid and zipping it so she wouldn't have to look at that anymore, before grabbing the shoulder strap and turning back to where the turtle had run to. “You forgot your-”
April was shocked into silence when she saw it staring back at her from a few feet past the other side of the fence, about as far from it as she was. It was hunching down onto all fours, staring at the cooler dangling in her grasp with longing, desperate eyes. It was making a clicking sound, chirping softly, almost under its breath. April stepped forward, wanting to offer the food out, but the creature quickly startled and started rushing off again.
This is the stupidest thing I've ever done, April thought as she slung the strap over her shoulder and started rushing after. She quickly opened the swinging door in the chain link fence and followed where the turtle had turned to the right. She found a manhole cover in the alley spinning on its sides, next to an open entrance into New York's sewer system. Can this day get any grosser?
As she slipped her legs into the manhole, placing her feet on the metal rungs descending down, April caught a slight flicker of movement rushing away. She quickened her descent and almost fell as she jumped down the final few steps. Her shoes immediately squelched against the muck spread across the sewer floor, and she had to hold down a gag as she looked up in the direction of where the turtle went around a corner. She started to move quickly after, but after only a moment, the sound of reptilian feet pattering away abruptly stopped and a soft thunk echoed in the dim tunnel.
April let herself slow a bit and glanced around the corner. For a moment she thought she had lost the creature, but then she saw the vividly colored shell sitting unmoving a few feet ahead. She slowly approached it, slipping the cooler off her shoulder.
“Here's your food, buddy,” she whispered, leaving the cooler about 6 feet away from the static shell. “I'm sorry I scared you. Feel free to come back for more.”
April was just about to turn back and walk away when she had a realization. She pulled her phone out of her pocket, made sure her flash and sound were off, and took a quick picture of the shell and cooler. The dim light of the sewer was barely enough for her crappy phone camera to pick up the shapes and colors, but she figured it would suffice.
She was totally bailing on CJ. She was going to need a good excuse, and even better proof.
With that, April turned on her heel and started walking back to where she came from, stealing quick glances every few seconds to see if the creature would peek out. To her disappointment, it didn't seem to feel safe enough, and she had to leave without knowing if it would even take the food she had willingly come into the sewers to give to it.
That didn't matter now. She needed to get home before Irma, and figure out what to do with the unmentionable gunk and liquid caked into her pants.
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Yippee! Chapter 1! The first arc should last maybe 12 chapters at most? I've already nearly got like 10 of them written, and I think this chapter was literally made last October. so I've got a bit of a backlog (-﹏-; )
There's so much I want to talk about in this story, especially the totally spoilery stuff, but a lot of the exposition will come from this arc, so I must keep my lips sealed. I'm very excited to share it with the world :)
I think the part of the 40k fandom who really earnestly want to prove Astartes do/can in fact fuck are kinda missing the point.
Like Astartes are at their core deeply tragic creatures. They're people who've been turned into tools to serve the interests of fascist imperialism and, in the process, have had their humanity stripped away because they're purely utilitarian by design.
The scope of their entire existence has been narrowed down to a single point. They're more advanced than baseline humans in a physiological sense--stronger, faster, larger, better reflexes, etc--but beyond that, they're actually more limited.
There's a point in one of the Night Lord books where Octavia observes that, for all of the Astartes' advanced capabilities, they're really quite developmentally stunted. Like, huge powerhouses with unnaturally long lifespans, but the hyper-simplistic emotional depth and worldview of a 12 year old.
Which adds up. The Astartes love to sneeringly dismiss things like sexuality, intimacy and romantic love as nothing but the base, inferior drives of mortals, but once you strip back the superiority complex, it just sounds like a tween boy who can't wrap their head around why anyone would want to kiss a girl.
And, again, it's all by design; the Imperium doesn't want them developing attachments outside of a basic sense of brotherhood and filial love for their Primarch because that distracts them from their sole intended purpose. You don't want your hammer vanishing on a fuck fueled vacation to Bali with your handsaw when you're trying to build a shed. It's all a means of control.
And I get finding one of them hot and having horny headcanon, go fuckin nuts.
But whenever I see a reddit post that's like "B-BUT THE SPACE WOLVES FUCK! HORNY ASTARTES ARE CANON--!", it's like...I dunno, isn't it more compelling if they can't? That they've been robbed of simple human joys in order to better serve the interests of an uncaring theocratic fascist state? And they can't even grasp what's been taken from them?
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what if i ate the book huh??? what would you do???
dededos
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