![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tori_angeli) wrote2008-05-02 06:51 pm
Fic excerpts
So. Here are my stuffs. Most of them are pretty rough, but they'll give you the basic idea. Enjoy!
Summary: Forcibly separated from his family by an old friend and taken in by an old enemy, Michelangelo becomes the only thing that can save his family when things go horribly wrong.
Author's Notes: Set in Japan. Rated T so far.
His own mortality wasn’t something Michelangelo thought of often. When he opened his eyes, it was the first thing on his mind. Am I dead? At least, he felt like he should be dead. The blurred world around him lent itself no shape, just hazy swirls and splotches of unidentifiable colors. His body took a breath, inflating and expanding and lifting him slightly off the ground as his rib cage pushed against the damp soil—he was lying on his side, he noted. The breath was captured by a fit of wet coughing, his lungs slurping in and expelling air. Fingers dug into his shoulders, hands jerking him painfully upright and bending him over. Water spattered from his mouth, squeezed from his lungs like from water balloons. Between coughs, he heard the spark of a female voice. More than one pair of hands was on him now, forcing him to his feet. At last, he could breathe properly, and his first gasp nearly sent him reeling back into blackness. Static burst in front of his eyes. His knees nearly gave way. A hand with short fingernails that still dug painfully into his skin seized his jaw and forced his chin up. The static cleared to show a blunt-featured Japanese woman, her icy almond-shaped eyes glaring—no, penetrating him, all the hatred in the world behind them.
She said something in Japanese.
“Wha?” he gasped.
She hit him across the face with her closed fist, delivering more power than he ever thought possible from a woman barely taller than himself. The placement of the blow was precise. If Mike had been human, his jaw might have been broken. He saw more sparks. She repeated herself. This time, he recognized one of the words—his own name, with perfect English pronunciation. This woman knew English. She just preferred not to speak it. More likely, she preferred not to speak it with him. The rest of what she was saying clicked into place.
“Are you Michelangelo?”
“No,” he slurred automatically. First Rule of Being Mike: Whatever you did, whenever possible, let someone else take the heat.
She struck him again. “You are Michelangelo,” she said hotly in her native tongue, her wide, thick mouth baring in a snarl. The rest arranged itself in his head as his conversations in Japanese with his father recalled his meager skills in the language. “The orange one. Mistress Karai—“ something.
“Karai?”
Oh shit. The Foot.
Alarm snapped Mike’s eyes into focus. The woman was flanked by two longer, leaner ninja—men, unsurprisingly, neither older than twenty-five. She must have been in her mid to late thirties herself, still in her prime, with thick legs and arms, a broad heart-shaped face, and sleek black hair cropped at the level of her jaw, restrained by a broad grey headband. She was positively decorated with weapons, her uniform littered with small daggers and sai, a jo staff, and a graceful naginata strapped to her back. Her eyes were a little too close-set, her nose so small and flat that it nearly disappeared against her face. Her wide-hipped figure was suppressed by her utterly functional uniform, her waist thickened and her breasts flattened by it. She was like a cast-iron cannonball, or a hand grenade on the verge of eruption.
She spoke again, but her dialect was so different from Splinter’s that he didn’t have the slightest clue what she was saying. Very quickly, he learned that she hadn’t spoken to him, but to the ninja holding him. One struck him until he saw stars, then darkness.
Summary: Sequel to "The Halfway Point." How can you defend yourself when your enemies are using the past as a weapon?
Author's Notes: More action-oriented and suspenseful than THP. Rated M.
A body found in a New York City alley has been identified as that of Robert Leon Coleman. The cause of death, authorities say, was almost undoubtedly murder. An autopsy revealed a massive wound from a long, edged weapon. The body was found with the word “RAPIST” slashed into the forehead. While nothing has been confirmed as to whether or not Coleman was in fact a rapist, tests during the autopsy revealed that he was HIV-positive.
There was no world. There were only those words.
HIV-positive. House. Raph's House.
Leo's mouth went dry.
“We need to get more of a story from Raph about what happened that night. We have to know--”
It didn't matter. He would die anyway.
“You said they raped him with an object?”
Leo cleared his parched throat as he grew aware that Don's words required an answer. “Yeah. Flashlight. And...and one of them peed on him, but it wasn't House. It was...one of the other ones.” He hoped he didn't sound as distant as he felt, staring at those words until they burned into his corneas. HIV-positive. Oh god, oh god.
“Leo?”
Leo's blood was running cold, and he barely remembered to breathe. “Huh?”
“You okay?”
A crimson wave, overcoming his vision, stinging his eyes, the resistance and give of severed muscle and bone, sword lancing through heart, warm flood of salt and metal, everywhere. A look of shock, realized underestimation, or perhaps overestimation, frozen on a dying man's face. Leo lifted his hands to his own face, and he could feel it, the sticky slime of congealing
“Blood.”
“What?” Don looked alarmed. “Did Raph...did he come in contact with House's blood, or do you know?”
“Not Raph,” whispered Leo. “Me.”
Summary: Leo and Don consider cannibalism. Mike's dilemma proves difficult for Raph to take seriously.
Author's Notes: Fourth in the Quality Time series.
Don sat back against the driver’s seat and stared ahead. “We haven’t moved in half an hour.”
“We’re in New York, Don.”
“I’m not surprised, I’m just…despairing.”
“Yeah. Thumb war again?”
Don shook his head. “My butt’s had enough beating.” He stretched his arms overhead. “But I am hungry.”
Leo shrugged. “We don’t have anything in the van.”
“The whole purpose of this exercise was to get groceries.”
“And we’re stuck in traffic.”
“Which sucks.”
“So whose leg do we eat first if we don’t get out of here in time?” Leo gave a small chuckle.
Don glanced at him, a little surprised. “Leg?”
Leo leaned sideways toward him. “You know that Monty Python skit Mikey keeps quoting, with the guys on the ship who haven’t eaten in thirty-some days—“
“Do I want to hear the rest of this?”
“Actually, no.” Leo smiled wryly. “It’s disgusting.”
Don grinned. “You brought it up, bro. And we’d definitely eat your leg first.”
“How come?”
“You got more muscle.”
“Not a lot more.”
“But more. It would provide more nourishment for us both.”
“If we wanted more muscle, we should have brought Raph’s head in a plastic bag.”
Don laughed. “So you strike with the insults, and he isn’t even here to defend himself.”
“I would never be so low as to insult someone in the heat of an argument.”
“Oh? I suppose ‘jerk’ and ‘hothead’ and ‘ninja dropout’ are terms of endearment?”
That got a reluctant chuckle out of Leo. His lips tightened into a smile, and he shook his head, looking a little embarrassed. “I know, I know.”
“Eh, it’s okay. I called him a hussy,” admitted Don.
“Was that a note of pride I detected in your voice just now?” Leo wondered, his smile spreading into a grin.
“Absolutely. Shouldn’t I be proud?”
“As long as it wasn’t true.”
“It was an insult contest, Leo, and I appreciate your concern for my well-being. Such an ingenious insult could have caused me to give the ultimate sacrifice.”
“Yes, but that would have been your fault.”
“So no sympathy?”
“None at all.”
“That’s comforting.”
“I know.”
Summary: Fifth installment in the Quality Time series. Leo and Mike, Raph and Don.
"See this?" Leo shook the pink robe in front of Michelangelo's face. "This is why we don't have you do the laundry. Ever."
"You didn't give me enough quarters for two loads!" Mike protested.
"One white robe doesn't go in a separate load!" Leo cried, exasperated. "You hand-wash it, in the big sink!"
"Gee, thanks, Leo," snarled Mike, "but wouldn't that info be, like, so much more useful if I got it, I dunno, BEFORE I WENT TO APRIL'S?"
Leonardo simmered. "You know how to do the laundry, Mikey. Doing it by hand has the same principles with machines, in the sense that colored and white robes don't go together. I don't even want to imagine the look on Master Splinter's face when he sees a pink robe enter his wardrobe, I really don't."
"You only gave me enough quarters for one load, though!"
"YOU WASH THE WHITE ONE BY HAND!"
"I know that NOW. What the hell?"
Leo's mouth dropped open, but then he realized that Mike was no longer speaking to him. Rather, he was staring past him. Leonardo looked over his own shoulder and...the edges of the new dishwasher were glittering oddly. Not glittering. Bubbling?
"What did you put in the dishwasher?" Mike asked slowly as the bubbles grew thicker around the dishwasher door and began to seep onto the floor.
Leo blinked. "Dawn."
"Dawn? Like, the same thing we use for washing dishes in the sink?"
"Yeah."
"Oh shit."
"Was I not supposed to?"
"Nope."
"...Oh."
Summary: Sixth installment of Quality Time. Don cooks, Mike can't find the spoons, and Leo and Raph get lost.
Leonardo stared. "Vodka? You brought vodka?"
Raphael waved him off. "It's part of my survival kit."
"Your survival kit," Leo repeated dubiously.
"Yeah. For survivin' you."
That earned a brief half-smile from the elder brother. It was quickly stifled. "Raph, have you even had vodka before?"
Raph unscrewed the cap on the bottle. "Sure I have. With Casey."
"Straight, or mixed with something? Something non-alcoholic."
Raph didn't answer, only held the bottle to his lips and tipped it. Seconds later, an explosion issued from the attempted alcoholic, spattering droplets of clear alcohol everywhere. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he nearly doubled over hacking.
Leo raised an eye ridge. "I guess that answers my question."
His wheezing brother shook his head firmly. "Wrong pipe," he insisted, choking.
"How was it?"
"Tastes like paint thinner," Raph aspirated.
Leo frowned. "How strong is that?"
After a few more gasps, Raph wiped the tears from his eyes and squinted at the bottle. "100-proof," he rasped.
Leo snatched the bottle from Raph's hand. "Strong enough, then," he said, raising it to his lips.
Summary: A childish game goes horribly wrong.
Author's Notes: A chibi fic. Raph and Mike vs. Leo and Don, and Mike is a captive.
“Tighter,” ordered Mikey, frowning down at the ties Don was using to bind his wrists. Don rolled his eyes and gave a sigh of frustration, yanking the cords as tight as he could until his brother yelped. He ignored the outcries and accusations of abuse. If Mikey wanted torture, he would get torture, and Don would have no pity on his complaints.
“Okay,” Don muttered, “where do we tie this up?” He glanced overhead at a sturdy-looking sewer pipe and wondered for a moment if he couldn't rig up some sort of pulley system...but no, all they had were cords and pipes. How insufficient. “Hey Leo, I'm gonna climb up there. Could you toss me the rope when I'm up?”
“Sure.” Leo stepped forward to take the rope from Don, clutching it tightly like it was a leash attached to a wild dog.
“What're you doing?”
Don glanced over his shoulder. Raph had found them, and was frowning darkly. “Torturing Mikey,” Don told him.
“Can I watch?”
“Sure.”
“No!” protested Mikey at the same time, flailing against the role binding him to Leo. “You have to charge in and rescue me when I shout for help from my comrade!”
“Oh.” Leo's eyes lit up. “Right! Then we can have a battle for the prisoner!”
Raph was watching Mikey carefully. “Why do I have to rescue you?” he grumbled. “I wanna see you get what's coming to ya.”
“Please, Raph?”
“Fine,” Raph muttered. “Just be sure you scream real loud, so I can at least hear how much it hurts.” With that, he stormed away.
By this time, Don had climbed his way on top of the pipe. It was plenty sturdy. He stretched an arm out, holding out his hand for the rope. Leo tossed it up, and Don threaded it over the pipe before sliding down the other side, using the pipe as a crude pulley. Mikey gasped as he was lifted off the ground. Don touched down and secured the rope to a support beam before stepping back to survey his work. Mikey was wriggling about two feet off the floor. His restlessness was making him spin slowlyy as the rope swung him gently from side to side.
“You okay?” asked Don, suddenly concerned. Mikey didn't look very comfortable.
“You're not supposed to—ngh!--you're not supposed to ask me stuff like that!” Mikey's breathing was a little labored, his rib cage constricted from his unusual forced posture.
Oh, of course. Not supposed to. Because this was exactly like the movies. Don rolled his eyes and picked up another, shorter length of rope and his tote bag and began to bind Mikey's kicking feet together. He was struck in the chin twice before the ankles were successfully tied with the tote bag strung between them to hold the stack of textbooks Don had collected. Don straightened and stepped back.
Mikey groaned. “This kinda hurts.”
“You wanted it,” Leo reminded him. “You'll have to live with it.”
Don picked up a textbook and held it over the tote bag. “Ready?” he asked, glancing up at Mikey.
“Don't ask him that,” snorted Leo. “He wants it.”
no subject
no subject
(Kidding. They're ALL good)
no subject
no subject
What
Hee-- oh what a terrible tease you are Tori! But if your intention was to get us to hound you mercilessly, it may work.
While the Quality Time ones promise more sweet funny interactions and the two Mikey-in-Peril fics have me nervous (especially War Scenes) you must know that Endgame shoved my my heart up into my throat with what, less than 1/4 a page? Ack Ack Ack!
This is your First Harassing Comment from me.
;o)
no subject
no subject
no subject
I had to fight back a scream when I remembered that Leo has been in contact with House's blood, oh geez, I can't wait to read it !!
The Mikey's Couterplay seems to be great too, I really love "Time Elapsed" and it's good to finally have someone who gaves Mikey some pretty good stories and gives him proper credits !!
And the Quality Times... My i just can't wait !! I'm, for the moment, especially waiting for the "Good and Stuck" one, for lately I love Leo/Don interaction and the dialog you wrote is simply delightful, can't wait to read more ^^
Aw you made my day ! ^^
Crystal
no subject
no subject
And Counterplay? ::low whistle:: THAT I've been waiting for since you first told me you were playing with the premise of Mikey gettin' roughed up. And of course the Quality Time fics look great. Love your comedies.
So you got me all excited & tense with glee! Can't wait for all of them:)
no subject
no subject
And no worries about not finishing the fics... We'll keep you accountable. :)
no subject
no subject
Very enjoyable,clever, and original :D