The reporter on the TV adjusted her glasses and cleared her throat. “After last week's invasion, many have been thankful to the not-humans that fought off the aliens.” The screen to the right of her shows a blurry photo of green blobs with color coordinated masks, weapons readied as they run upwards up a falling building.
“Many others believe that they were part of a plot to earn public trust. Protesters have been lining the streets of New York City, calling for an investigation of their motives,” The screen changes to depict protestors lining the street. They chant indistinctly in front of a governmental building.
“John is there on the scene,” The camera snaps over to a reporter in front of the protesters, a warm scarf loosely tied around his neck. “Tell us John, what should the people of New York know in the midst of the current panic?”
“Well, Sarah, it is not looking good out there, I can tell you that. The protesters have been here since eight a.m. and show no signs of stopping. We haven’t gotten any further contact from the not-humans that fought off the alien as of yet, only riling people up further. Everyone here has a different theory as to their purpose for fighting the aliens off, ranging from escaped aliens from area-51 to a secret governmental task force.” He’s nearly yelling over both the wind and the roaring protestors.
A teenager sneaks up to the reporter. She wears a bright green sweater, and her hair is pulled back into two buns. The reporter continues, unaware of her presence, “They want answers, and possibly compensation. Many of their homes and offices were destroyed in the fight, leaving many homeless or without jobs.”
She taps on his shoulder, “Excuse me, sir, April O’Neil, reporter from Eastman Laird University. I actually have some information about the “not-humans”, did you call them?”
John breathed out a small sigh, before facing the budding reporter. April took that moment to steal his mic from him. April held it out of his grasp, dancing out of his way every time he attempted to grab it. He eventually gave up, motioning at the camera to switch back over to the studio. It doesn’t. He taps his foot impatiently as she begins her speech.
It was clearly well rehearsed, spoken with a clear voice that was easily heard over the background noise. “Their names are Raph, Leo, Donnie, and Mikey. Raph is the oldest at sixteen. They fought the aliens called the Krang in order to protect us all. They are afraid. They are hurt. Leo is in a coma, healing from the damage he took when he sacrificed himself to get the Krang back into their prison. He is fifteen years old . Mikey, a fourteen-year-old, has permanently damaged his hands from making a portal to save Leo. They are teenagers. They are people too. They fought hard for us, and I’m disappointed that we aren’t doing the same. April O’Niel, out.” She drops the mic and John blinks, lost for words. Slowly, he comes back, picking up the dropped mic. “Well, erm,” He clears his throat, tugging on his scarf. The screen cuts back to the reporter inside the studio, who looked equally as ruffled.
“We’ll be right back after a quick break.” The screen cuts to an advertisement about a foot fungus.
The screen turned black, closing like curtains at the end of a play. Splinter's sigh was a deep one, pulled from the wells of his soul. He was thankful to April for trying, but he understands humans (he used to be one, afterall). They will never change, they will always hate anything different. He remembered when he first moved to America. He wasn’t welcomed then, and he was a human. He feared to think of what would happen to his boys if they went public.
being aromantic is like. hey btw you're going to live a life that is the culmination of most of society's worst nightmares. sorry lol ✌️ but then you turn around and take a really good hard look at it and it turns out that living in that nightmare is fucking awesome and you get to wake up every day and take that fear that other people have and laugh and hold it close until it's a great joy for you instead. and being happy is a radical act that you define instead of someone else. and you're sexy as fuck that's just a fact of life i don't make the rules on that one
I can't believe Scavengers Reign exists. It's perfect. Man vs nature but as an allegory for man vs himself, the actions and conflicts mirroring each other perfectly, the ecology of the planet serves as alien as fuck while serving as an example for human's effects on nature and therefore ourselves because we're intrinsically tied and actually all One??!? @!#? THIS SHOW IS REAL
finally posting these after what feels like forever
featuring my attempts at figuring out how I wanna draw them, and a few redraws of some older pieces that never got posted (+a new cover image for my playlist)
Rest in peace, Liam. Your sacrifice will never be forgotten. 😔✊
I finally finished this, YAY! This animatic is a mix of digital and traditional art. I definitely learned a lot of tricks while making this (also, can you notice the slight difference between art styles??).
This animatic singlehandedly explains what happened to JD after his mom sacrificed him. He was definitely ready to accept his faith until he discovered Branch's was with him (which almost gave him a panic attack). It was a good thing that everyone decided to help him, and Liam (a troll around his age, maybe older?) helped him escape.
For more context about my au check this post!
I obviously don't own the audio, only the animatic. "Bruno is Orange" by Hop Along featuring Francis Quinlan, so credits to them. Here's the link
Out of curiosity, lets say the Vaschete lore existed in a actual storytelling format, like a cartoon or a webcomic (even tho I do respect your choice of not turning it into a webcomic) What name would you give to it?
sudden yearning for time travelling teen jiang fengmian lands at lotus pier fic that winds up being about a perfectly nice kid having a varying series of "oh no. i don't like that. that's a lot" reactions.