"Coming through!"Michelangelo slid on the back of his shell along the wet, slick concrete. Nunchucks twirled like minitaure cyclones as he did. One of the metal-tipped weapons slapped against the knee of a Purple Dragon, while the second one struck another in the crotch. The man collapsed to the pavement in a heap of pain, a spray of vomit coming up as a reflex, splattering on his gang mate who had fallen to one knee.
"Whoa, bro, hope you already had your kids," Mikey winced.
"Actually, considering his line of employment and clear lack of grooming practices, I really hope he didn't," Donnie went back-to-back with the now-standing Mikey.
"You know, prenatally speaking, he's not the best choice."A third Dragon flew through the air, over a nearby car, slamming into the other two. Raphael appeared on top of the car, admonishing his brothers,
"Would you two shut the hell up!? We got a job to do. My patience is about to run out."Mikey pointed down the street,
"Would you look at that, Don?""What's that, Mikey?" Don called back.
"It's Raph's patience running-Woah!"Before Michelangelo could finish the joke, a Dragon swung at his head with a bat. Mikey's head retracted into his shell, and the bat flew through the thin air until it was caught mid swing by a green hand. The weapon was yanked from the man's hand, and the owner of the green hand's foot swung around and struck him in the chin. The blow sent the gang member twirling through the air before falling unconscious on the ground.
"Raph isn't wrong, you two need to pay attention," Leonardo looked at the two of them before turning to Raph.
"And you need to not worry about them. That guy almost got a shot in on your legs while you were yelling at them."Leo motioned over his shoulder. Raphael looked at the foot of the car behind him, where a Dragon was crumpled into the gutter.
"The Foot is out there somewhere in this city, guys," Leonardo looked into the night.
"The Shredder is out there somewhere. And we need to be the best we can possibly be if we stand any chance of surviving that."He had been thinking a lot about his failure with Karai and the Hand. Nearly every minute of Leonardo's waking day was spent analyzing what he could have done better. Master Splinter and his brothers didn't blame him in the open, but that didn't matter. He knew, deep down that he had failed, and that the Shredder was back because of him.
"Yea, sorry, bro," Mikey was forlorn.
"Fearless leader thinks we need to be better," Raph pushed by Leo, shouldering him as he went.
"Splinter Junior is disappointed. Oh whatever will we do."The tension between the two of them had really ratcheted up since the Karai incident. While, before then, Raph had started to come around to Leonardo's leadership, he was now back to believing that he would be the better leader. It had almost come to blows during multiple training sessions with Splinter, leading to the rat sending the two of them to their rooms, much to the enjoyment of Mikey and Donny.
Ignoring Raphael, Leo walked over to Donny,
"Another bank in Tombstone's territory. The Dragons have been getting more and more aggressive. It doesn't fit their MO."The Purple Dragons had never been more than a bit player in the New York crime scene before. Common street thugs that were happy to make their profits on the margin of the bigger players in the city. For the past few months, however, they had been hitting former Kingpin syndicate locations, not to mention locations in Tombstone's territory. It was brash, and brazen. So far the Turtles had clashed with them near a dozen times. What was even odder, though, was the fact that the Dragons seemed to be gaining more and more men. Every time the Turtles put some of them away, more showed up.
"No, it doesn't," Donnie agreed.
"Either someone is directing them, or their tired of playing second fiddle.""They don't have the numbers to keep doing these kinds of jobs," Leo mused as he walked the crime scene.
"And angering Tombstone is just asking for trouble. He's the biggest player left with the Foot taking the fight to the Hand. If he retaliates he could wipe the Dragons out. What is Hun up to?""We could ask Casey," Raph suggested.
"He seemed to know what he was talking about with the Dragons."Leonardo sighed. Raphael had brought this up multiple times since the gang had gone on their rampage, but Leo had shot him down each time.
"No, Raph. No outsiders. End of story."With that definitive rebuttal, the brothers heard the sound of approaching police vehicles. By the time the cops pulled up, they found nothing but the unconscious criminals.
"O'Neil!" the bark came from the other side of the slightly-cracked office door, snapping April's head up from staring at her feet in the waiting area outside. She then looked up at the secretary next to the office. The older woman motioned her in, with a hurried look that said, "You better move quickly."
April sprung up out of her seat and hurried through the door. The man behind the desk, his chair turned to stare out the window with cigar smoke wafting up from one that hung on the side of his mouth, barked again,
"O'Neil, good. Was wondering if you had gotten lost out there."He swung around, placing the cigar in an ash tray to smolder. April had heard stories about J Jonah Jameson before, but nothing could have prepared her for the reality of the man. His hair was so straight and flat that it looked like a LEGO piece that he snapped onto his hard, angry face. His mustache twitched as he spoke, like an angry caterpillar about to launch itself at April's face.
JJJ had been a titan of New York publishing for decades. The Daily Bugle was a rag, April had to admit, but it was a widely read one, especially since Jameson had been among the first to really push the paper into the digital space. He was the preeminent salesman in the media game, and he had the attitude to back that up.
He had also bought her picture of the "Terror Turtles" as he had called them, as well as her story. Since then he had been bugging her for another picture or a story. Jameson was obsessed with the metahumans in New York. Mostly Spider-Man, but April figured he saw the Turtles as a way to sell even more papers and online subscriptions.
"Now, Fenwick at ESU says you don't want to intern here. Why not?" his stare was like the strictest teacher she had ever seen.
"Well, Mister Jameson, I'm flattered, but-""But you want to be a real reporter, and working for the Bugle would be a black mark on your record?" a laugh burst forth with this.
"O'Neil, no one is gonna remember where you interned, and no one is gonna care if you can write worth a damn. So, when can you start? Fenwick says it'd give you some more credits."April's mind raced. Fenwick had pushed her to take the position, and Jameson had echoed his words almost completely. If nothing else it would give her far more resources to investigate what was going on with the city. Things had been getting worse. Even if most people didn't want to admit it, parts of New York were getting downright dangerous again. And this was her chance to really have an outlet to talk about it.
"Mr. Jameson...I'm in."
"Shit!"Casey Jones lost his edge on the ice, and sprawled out, smacking the puck he had been controlling in a wild and desperate shot towards the net, which the goalie easily knocked aside. He slammed his gloved fist into the ice and got back up, but as he did the coach's whistle blew, and the ESU hockey team coasted over towards the bench to grab a drink of water.
Before he could get there, however, the coach skated up to his side, "You okay, Jones?"
"Yea, sorry, just caught an edge, that's all," Casey smiled meekly.
"You seem to be doing that an awful lot lately," the coach sounded suspicious.
He was also right, and Casey knew it. Jones hadn't been playing well at all, and it all stemmed from the fact that he knew his father was building up the Purple Dragons for something big. Casey had barely been sleeping, spending most of his nights on the streets trying to figure out what Arnold was really after with all these new movements.
"Yea, I...uh...family problems," he shrugged.
"Sorry coach.""Listen, Casey, I know it's not easy where you came from,' he clasped Casey on the shoulder. "We can work that out on the ice, but you need to focus on your grades. The university let us know things were slipping. That we can't let slide, especially since you're on scholarship for hockey. We're going to get you a tutor. Get your grades up, get yourself in order, and then you get back in the game. Understand?"
Casey sighed,
"Yes, sir. Understood."
The winter wind whipped along the outdoor observation platform of Oroku Saki's penthouse as Karai stepped out to talk to her "grandfather". Of course, he was her blood, but it was far more distant than that. He was the patriarch of her family from hundreds of years ago. The greatest shinobi the world had ever known, and one that had dominion over all Japan at one point in time. That was before the cowardly actions of those that he called brothers. Before he was sealed away.
But now he had returned, and he had even greater ambitions than Japan this time. Karai's sister, Pimiko, had told her all about Saki when they were young. She had gone on and one about how no one could best him in combat, and how his strategies were unstoppable. The stories did the Shredder little justice, however. In the weeks since his return, Saki had already began building the Foot into a threat it hadn't been in centuries, and had begun to form a stranglehold on New York through proxies. Before long, the city would be his, and the real work would start.
Karai approached the man, standing in a simple ninja robe as he peered over the city. He looked down at her, he was a truly massive man, but when he fought he had the grace of dancing water.
"Karai," his gravely voice had warmth in it, at least for her and her sister,
"the world has changed so much since I've been gone. It is truly incredible.""Yes," she smiled up at him.
"More connected. More engaged.""All the easier to spread our shadow, my granddaughter," he counseled.
"The Foot grows in this city. Soon none will be able to stand in our way. But that will not be enough. We require more. We require hearts and minds.""Yes, grandfather," she nodded. The Foot, the remnants of them from when Shredder first fell, had been planning for this. Through the years, they had gathered financial resources, shell companies, and other assets in order to ensure financial movement for Saki when he returned.
"I want you to set up a press conference," Saki turned and smiled.
"It is time to introduce myself to the city." 
Simple Unicycle
Izurich
Morden Man
