#gotta do like four comics for rat sons

[scatterbrainedbot]

i am plagued....with.......

I D E A S

[istherewifiinhell]

the ways in which we are So Fucking Back, cannot even BEGIN to be communicated.

[Splinter Forever. Story: lloyd Goldfine. Art: Khary Randolph Colours: Emilio Lopez Letters: Tom Napolitano and Shawn Lee]

[ID: 03 show styled comic, the turtles crowd around splinter with looks of concern/relief. Splinter doing his best to hug them all back but saying "You so know I could have freed myself anytime I wished too..." Splinter narration: ...And, even if given forever... END] Next narration: I could not have dreamed of one better.

idw 40th anniversary book. various caps i took cause i really liked them (by they way the few stories i did NOT cap is not cause i didnt like em by any means. and for some it was cause i was TOO SAD! i liked them SO MUCH! they HURT to LOOK AT. kay thx)

book creds. Editor: Nicolas Niño. Supervising Editor: Jamie S. Rich. Design: Nathan Widick

might as well start with the 03 one cause its already up there

[ID: 1. Action shot the turtles jumping thru a window, in varied cool poses, rimlit in blue moonlight. Leo: Mikey, thin out the foot! Donnie, free Splinter! Shredder's mine! Raph: I got hun! Mikey, singing: Turtles, count it off! Splinter, narrating: Here, I speak not of mutation… but of my sons, could I ever have dreamed I would become a father. 2. Action shot of turtles and Splinter together, all yelling a "Hai-yah!" Splinter narration: Never has there been a father prouder of his children. END]

ur reminder that 03 is the one that was literally just a rat b4 mutation. sometimes life hands u 4 reptiles and some weird alien go and u go. okay these are my beautiful children now

and you know the tweets like. i gotta accept u didnt make the tmnt? u gotta accept youll DIDNT draw a rat this SICK. his swag. unparalleled.

[ID: Splinter punching the Shredder, cropped close, the line of motion accented by his rodent features, carrying from his tail and digitigrade leg, to the pointed tip of his snout. His fur nicely emphasized from show style. END]

okay in presented order now. (again. only the ones im emotionally strong enough for) it opened with eastman's, four pages to a poe poem, Deep lorey in its own way. ALSO SAD!

[Monsters. Story, Art and Letters: Jim Lawson Colours: Steve Lavigne]

[ID: A very squared jaw turtle style, bold black likes of varying thickness, lots of hashing. It's Raph turning to look over his shoulder with a "Hmp", mask tails flowing behind his head. END]

eeeeee lookit him. mwah. [me explaining] u see. mirage turtles. there so lumpy. and thats EXCELLENT

[Gang Wars. Story: Tristan Jones. Art: Paul Harmon Letters: Tom Napolitano]

[ID: Rounded head, prominent beak, almost movie puppet turtle style. Art has strong penwork , filled with hatching, but soft impressionistic colours, looking both loose yet detailed. 1. Mike is carrying a women as he climbs a ladder. She's tipped almost complete upside down over his shell. Her narration: You perspective shifts... Soft pinkish hue lights them from below. 2. Mike jumping from the roof with a cheerful "Gotta run!", smiling and offering as salute, both nunchaku in hand. Warm golden light hitting his front as he's half turned. END]

HI. I dont recognize your name (YET) Mr harmon sir. but would u like my award for most gorgeous colour rendering on any mutant turtles ever ever in the whole wide world. (sobbing) mikey.... my boy. my beloved loved boy

(there was comics also repping the image and archies runs here. neither of which ive read yet, SORRY. all the same they were both VERY CHARMING)

[What About Tomorrow. Story: Eric Burnham. Art: Sarah Myer Colour: Luis Antonio Delgado Letters: Shawn Lee]

[ID: 87 show styled comic. Raph is quipping to the villain (or perhaps the audience) "Don't tell me… Sherlock Holmes?" He has a hand on hip, side eyeing Donnie very strongly and says "Don't give me that look, Donatello. He said guess!" Don is looking at him so incredibly flatly. END]

have u literally very seen something more perfect than that. look at their fucking FACESSSSS. urghh. characterization? perfect. u can hear it. i controlled myself here. i didnt cap the entire fucking comic

[ID: Splinter smiling, eyes close, we see what he is reminiscing on. His human self, reading a book and holding the for normal baby turtles. He say "When I was Hamato Yoshi, I could never have guessed I'd become a mutant rat. Or that I would raise four turtles into heroes I am endlessly proud of. END]

LOOK AT THIS FUCKING RAT. and his turtle sons. (he doesnt call them sons in this cartoon but their his fuckinngggg sons.)

splinter forever we covered.

[Kraang Among Us. Story and Art: Ciro Nieli Letters: Shawn Lee]

[ID: A 2012 show styled comic, Nieli's style having a punky marker quality to it in comic form. 1. Drawn small, the turtles character-fully posed. Raph casual and aside, Leo earnest out front, Mikey excited and ready, Donnie last, interest in a beeping gadget. 2. Leo bowing on the ground solemn/serene. 3. Graphically bold panel, Mikey has a hand up, smiling cockily, saying "STOP! …My turn. Hit it, Ice Cream Kitty!" Ice cream kitty, (indeed a cat made of Neopolitan) Clicks on a boom box. 4. Donnie says "This can't be good…", with a look of shock at his gadget, wall of text Beeping behind him. A sort of pink viscera explosion just barely in view. END]

which im particular stunned by seeing nieli's creations rendered in 2 dimensions. they looks so fucking good! tho, from all the other aesthetic makers within the show, it totally make sense, the sort of, graphic pop grime. donnie in partic looks so cute, feel like his look is possible BETTER suited for this than the cg, sorry stringbean.

no raph stunner shot sorry he was only in like 2 panels lol.

Rises "Farewell Story" was here. In which Andy Suriano made me cry and cheer and. GUH. look on the internet. u might see some shit. Also a showing from IDW mainline in "Father's Day"... can u maybe GUESS? fantastic gut punch.

[Teen Spirit: Story: Ronda Pattison Art: Pablo Tunica Letters: Tom Napolitano]

[ID: The current mainline comics look, influence from Campbell. The turtles are round and bulky, a light touch used defining the contours of their heads. Wearing grey lose clothes and white limb wraps. Clean detailed black line, water colour like detailed render. All five turtles in a rocky forest, various states of concentration to summon colour coded magic energies. Jennika on her stomach, kicking feat, playful. Leo hunched close to his, looking intent. Raph with tongue out, first in one hand. Donnie, in eyes closed mediation. Mikey, his hands over head, a rain of fallen leaves from his dispersed magic. He says "Whoops!" END]

Pattison I recconize as a prolific idw turtle colourist. tunica i dont but is another i WILL have to be on the look out for. who doesnt like the sophie campbell era of turtle. they are SOOOO. everything. to me.

bro. which fucking continuity has them all so fucking cute magic hijinks mentored by the SHREDDER. cant wait to find out (i think there was some ghilbi visual ref moments esp. in his panels. VERY CUTE. lord help us all) looook at them. look at raph :p. LOOK AT JENNY JENNY JENNIKA.

okay. thats it. hey guys? turtles is good.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #403

“ashes to ashes, watch me disappear”

If given the opportunity, would you like to star in a musical? Definitely not. I don't like musicals. Name one person you’d take a bullet for: There's honestly a lot, but Mom immediately came to mind. Any posters of a band on your bedroom wall? Yeah: Metallica and Marilyn Manson currently. I want lots more, especially an Ozzy one. Do you think you’ve already met your soulmate? I don't believe in soulmates. Do you share your bedroom with anyone? No, unless you include my cat and snake. Is your favorite color yellow? No, it's actually one of my least favorites. Were you born in a hospital? I was. Do you know the name of the person that delivered you? No, but Mom does. I think he delivered me and my two sisters, and I know Mom has seen him since for other reasons. Was your birth recorded? God no. Good call, Mom. Did you eat a peach this week? Would you believe me if I told you I had a small bit of peach pie for my sister's birthday? For some reason, I just really wanted to try some. It was okay, but the aftertaste sucked. Are you leaving the house tomorrow? Yes, for TMS therapy. Every weekday. Do you enjoy romantic movies, even when they’re cliche? I honestly do. If you could get free vocal lessons would you take them? Probably not. I don't like singing in front of anyone, and it's not like I wanna get anywhere with my singing, so. Is your mother diabetic? She is. Are you? No. Ever sang someone to sleep? No. Who do you stalk the most through Facebook? Nobody. Have you ever deleted your Facebook, then brought it back? No. What is your main responsibility each day? Be sure to take my medications. Do you feel like you fulfill those responsibilities? Yeah. There are rare mornings where I forget, but I almost always remember. I don't fw skipping out on meds that keep my mental health stable. When was the last time you used spray paint? Good question. Do you know the middle name of the last person you kissed? Yep. Who is the friendliest person you know? My mom, probably. Something that annoys you about summer: THE HEAT. THE HUMIDITY. UGH. Something that annoys you about winter: Hm. That's hard to say, given I love winter. I guess the fact it doesn't snow enough here. Are the doors of your fridge side by side or on top of one another? Side-by-side. If you’ve moved out of the house you were born in, do you know the people who live in that house now? Nope. Have you ever cried in a movie theater? Not sobbed or anything, but I've definitely teared up and gotten the sniffles because of multiple movies. Do you read comic books? No. Do you force your way into conversations in which you are not involved? No. Have you ever seriously pretended to be clinically insane? I didn't need to pretend; I'm pretty damn sure I was for a while. Might I add that it's EXTREMELY inconsiderate to pretend you're insane, btw. Insanity is not "cool." It's not "funny." It's not "edgy." It's a serious, confusing, heart-wrenching issue that can ruin lives. Do you know anyone with a stutter? Yes, myself included when I'm even mildly nervous. And sometimes just randomly. With a lisp? I don't believe so. What was the last board game you played? The Disney version of "Pretty Pretty Princess" w/ my niece and even my nephew, even though his sexist-ass dad didn't want him to. Like let your kid have some fun with his sister and aunt, goddamn. They had a blast. It was Aubree's birthday present from me, so I am SO glad she loved it. Did you win? Ha ha, no, I always let Aubree or Ryder win. I came super close once, but I let the kids bend the rules a bit. They don't like losing, and even though they definitely need to understand that just happens and is totally fine for it to, I wasn't about to be the one to make them sad about it. When was the last time you tried to speak with an accent? OH MY LAAAAAWWWWWWD. Also at Aubree's b-day party, at one point, I spoke in a snobbish British accent while I was winning at the aforementioned game. Ryder asked, "Why are you speaking Spanish?", and I fuckin DIED. Have you ever made up a word before? Yeah, I know at least a few instances for fantasy animals in writing. When was the last time you went to a museum? A couple summers ago when my brother and his son visited, we went to a science museum. My nephew was sooooo into it. Do you have a nice yard? If so, do you spend a lot of time outside in it? If not, where do you go when you want to relax outdoors on nice days? Our front and back yards are both small and honestly very boring. The grass is a pretty green, but that's the only nice thing about it. I don't go to sit outside here on any day. Do your parents enjoy any of the things that you enjoy? Do you bond over these things? My parents and I have very similar music tastes, so there's that. I also didn't know for the longest time that Mom likes to write, which I sure as hell do, too! She doesn't really write anymore though, and she's self-conscious of it anyway, like I am. She and I also love a lot of the same shows. What is the movie that you have waited the longest for/which film do you remember anticipating the most/are still anticipating? I think The Incredibles 2. I aaaalways wanted to know what happened after the end of the first film. Do you have any ideas for a story or movie you’re planning to write or you’d write if you had the time/had the talent? Please share a synopsis! I genuinely think some RP I've written is series-worthy, but I don't feel like re-writing the YEARS of RP into a book format, and I sincerely worry that the ridiculously dark parts could inspire people like serial killers and cause A LOT of controversy, crime-blaming, and just general hate. I don't want to be involved in that. What is something that an interested guy/girl could comment about you, that would make you instantly open to them (e.g., “That book you’re reading is from my favorite author”)? Compliment my Markiplier tattoo, obviously knowing it's a tribute to him, and we're essentially besties. Is there a person in your life (maybe barely) that you feel in constant competition with (even just in your imagination)? Maybe you feel they are consistently outshining you? Ugh... there's a local photographer that's much more successful than I am that I admittedly am very envious of. I swear to whatever god you may believe in that I mean it from a modest perspective, I really, really do, but I genuinely think my skills surpasses hers, and she's only more prevalent because photography REALLY is about who you know. She's talented, yes, but like... come on. If you are single, even if you are normally happily single, are there certain specific things you witness that make you wish you were in a relationship (e.g., people getting engaged)? I mean yeah. I miss cuddling, holding hands, kissing, just being cute together, and especially people getting engaged or having kids. It's such a trigger to me. Once upon a time, that's all I wanted with Jason. I wanted to be that beautiful couple that got married and had two or three loved-beyond-words children, but then he left so abruptly, and I feel like it was so brutally robbed from me. I don't want kids anymore like at all, but the point still stands that I felt like my dreams were just ripped away. Out of all your usernames for websites, which one is your favorite? Do you use it for more than one site? I use "Ozzkat" just about everywhere. Have you ever spent the whole day (or multiple days) just looking up one thing on the internet (e.g., videos of your favorite band, how-to videos, quizzes, etc.)? OHHHHHHHHHH YEAH. There have been a couple days or so where I was totally glued to looking up various tattoo designs, bingeing let's plays or conspiracy theory videos, etc. etc. If you ever think about getting married, what are some aspects of the wedding that you would like to see in a non-traditional manner (e.g., a different color dress or “partners” over “husband” and “wife”)? I WILL NOT get married in a church, first of all. I'm also not having the traditional vows, and I probably won't wear a white dress, but instead black. Salt & vinegar, barbecue, sour cream & onion, or cheddar? Ohhhh, I like all those options but barbecue. I think I've gotta go with sour cream & onion, though. Bow ties on guys, dorky or adorable? A D O R A B L E ! ! ! I think they're ordinarily geeky, but I mean, geeky is cute in my world. :^) Do you believe in demonic possession? How about ghosts? Angels? Angels, no. Spirits/ghosts, 100%. I don't exactly believe in demons, per se, but I do question if evil spirits can possess someone. What is one romantic movie that you enjoy enough to watch more than once? I've seen The Notebook numerous times. Name three countries you want to visit; why those three? South Africa to interact with meerkats at the KMP, somewhere up in Canada to see the Northern Lights, and Germany just because, really. I took German for four semesters, and the culture and all just interests me. Do you have a good luck charm? No, considering I don't believe they do jack. Do you use Skype to talk to your friends? Only Sara. Now that I have Discord semi-figured out now though, we'll probably use that for voice chatting. Are you allergic to any animals? I might be allergic to dogs. Do you usually spend your weekends out, or at home? I'm like... always at home. Do you think it’s wrong for people to say "retard/retarded" as an insult? Absofuckinglutely. Don't pull that shit when I'm around. Have you ever had to go to the police department? No. Have you ever lived through a hurricane? Plenty. Have you ever had a home-grown tomato? Yes, from my old friend's garden. We'd have delicious tomato, mayo, and bacon sandwiches. The only instance where I've enjoyed tomatoes. Have you ever held a real gun? The former friend I mentioned just before, her husband always carried a gun, and he just needed me to hold it for a sec for some reason I don't recall. I hated the feeling. Would you rather wear Converse or Vans? I like both, but I think I prefer Converse. Have you ever been called bipolar? Yes, because I clinically am. Have you ever made fun of a handicapped person? FUCK no. And like the "retarded" thing, don't you fucking DARE to do this in front of me. I WILL deck the shit out of you. Do you think it’s okay to have sex before marriage? Sure, as long as you're being safe and are very thorough in communication. Do you like to watch old sitcoms? I don't really watch TV as I say in like every survey it seems, but I do enjoy some old sitcoms I grew up watching with my mom, like The Nanny, The Golden Girls, The Munsters, etc. If asked, could you run a mile nonstop right now? Being completely serious, I don't even know if I CAN physically run right now. My legs are so incredibly weak, and I'm humiliatingly close to what my heaviest weight was back in 2016, so I can almost guarantee my knees would crumple if I tried. Do you wear those rubber wristbands? I used to. I don't really like bracelets nowadays. If a necklace/ring gives you green marks, do you still wear it? Nope. Have you ever driven an electric car? No. When was the last time you saw someone you went to high school with? Uhhhh idk. What breed was the last dog you saw? A fucking GOLIATH of a lab. I shit you not when I say my sister's roommate's dog Hudson is the size of a goddamn bear. How long have your parents been together (or how long were they together, if they no longer are): I wanna say they were together at the very least 20 years. What has been your most epic cooking failure? I once accidentally put something (I don't remember what) in the microwave for around 45 minutes I believe, and I walked away and completely forgot about it. I remembered a long while later, and safe to say, it wasn't edible, whatever it was, lmao. Have you ever been to Mexico? No. Have you ever had a parrot sit on your shoulder? No, but that'd be cool. Has anyone in your life ever treated you abusively? No. How long has it been since your last breakup? Somewhere around two years ago? My memory is so garbage nowadays. Can you concentrate well while listening to music, or do you find it distracting? It's distracting, usually. What’s something you’ve been struggling with lately? I've been pretty bad about drinking too much soda lately. :/

[savannahsdrabbles]

Encounters - Part One

rating: G summary:  How April met the ROTTMNT turtles. notes: 6k fluffy turtle tot fic with just a touch of angst.  Part two can be found here, and Ao3 link here

“Okay, my sons.  It is time,”

           Despite his hushed tone, Splinter’s voice swelled with importance as he turned to face his charges. The maroon hoodie he had scrounged up fanned around him almost comically as he moved, speaking to the fact that it was clearly designed with someone much taller than he in mind. Even so, there was still an air of confidence and gravitas to his manner – this was not the first time that he had stood before an audience, nor, if he had anything to say about it, would it be his last. “As you know, this is an important mission. I am aware that you have been through this before, but it still remains pertinent that you remember the rules. Recite them for me, please.”

           Three of the four hooded figures before him immediately straightened to attention, their voices also hushed but still quivering with excitement.

           “Pay attention!”

           “Stay close!”

           “No talking!”

           …

The last response, rather than being delivered with confidence, was replaced with silence punctuated by the steady drip drip drip of a leaky pipe above them and the droning rumble of cars in the distance. Tiny rivulets of water streamed from a crack in the metal tube directly over their heads, running together and condensing into a single droplet that swelled and drooped under its own weight before silently dropping into a puddle of its brethren at their feet.

The pause dragged on for a few more seconds, and Splinter couldn’t help but roll his eyes upwards in a silent plea for patience as he sighed. “Michelangelo?”

“Oh!” The last and smallest figure in line immediately stood up straight, his focus snapping away from the growing puddle and turning towards his father. “Stick to the shadows!” The young turtle scrunched up his snout and leapt forward, landing on one foot and raising his arms into the air as an attempt at an action pose. “Like ninjas – HA!”

The gesture might have been threatening, were it not coming from an eight year old in an orange hoodie. However, it definitely sufficed to distract those around him. The three other turtles giggled, their concentration broken as they immediately began hopping around and striking their own grand poses. “Yeah – ninjas! Like Lou Jitsu!”

Splinter blinked slowly, a small smile teasing at his lips despite himself. “Right… like ninjas. If ninjas were loud and unfocused.”

That caught their attention. All four turtles immediately fumbled to a stop and forced serious expressions onto their round faces. “Sorry, Dad.”

“Hm.” The rat hummed, his gaze moving over the boys one last time before nodding. “Alright, let us go.”

***

Even with his years of training, Splinter still couldn’t help but be impressed by the relative ease with which he was able to lift manhole covers. Perhaps there were a few advantages to this new form - however, now was not the time for him to crow over his abilities.

Tonight was a gathering night.

Still holding the cover a few inches above him, Splinter peered around the alleyway. His ears rotated atop his head, listening for any sign of danger before he finally pushed himself up and out of the pipe. Once he was on solid ground, the rat sniffed the air and nodded slowly. This would be a good spot for the night.

Green dumpsters lined the gap between Eastman’s Donuts and Laird Apartments, each giving off a variety of odors that ranged in levels of pleasantness.  The alleyway he’d chosen tonight was one they frequented due to its abundance of cover and wide variety of resources. He always made sure to schedule their gathering nights shortly after garbage day, so that any food placed in the bins would still be relatively fresh and untouched by whatever else was dumped in with it. Years of gatherings told him that the dumpsters on the opposite side of either building tended to be less fruitful, but both alleyways held Salvation Army drop boxes that sometimes held clothing or other small items that could be repurposed for their needs.

“You may come out, boys. Silently.”

To their credit, his sons were decent at following commands when needed. One at a time, the four boys peeped their heads out of the drain and then scrambled over the edge.

Raphael led the way, his shell bumping against either side of the pipe as he pulled himself through. Even at eight years old, his biggest son stood slightly taller than his father and was showing signs of growing every day. Splinter was already dreading the day that they would have to change gathering routes in order to find manholes covers more accommodating of his size – that, or he would have to risk leaving his tenderhearted son alone at the lair during missions. The latter idea already hurt to think of.

Donatello and Leonardo were next, somehow managing to hold a silent shoving match as they ascended the ladder and attempted to pull themselves out of the ground. His purple son eventually emerged victorious, scrambling to his feet a few seconds ahead of his brother and immediately ducking behind Raph to smile smugly. Leo stuck his tongue out in protest and opened his mouth as if to say something, only to catch a warning glance from his father and snap it shut once more.

Michelangelo was the last one out of the sewer, clambering up the ladder with ease and bouncing excitedly next to his brothers as Splinter pushed the grate back into place. When he turned back around, the rat nodded in approval at the way the other boys had closed rank around their brother, making an unspoken shield. Despite the fact that the turtles were all the same age – or at least, had mutated on the same day – Mikey remained the smallest of the turtles and therefore held the honorary title of baby brother. While he hoped the boy wouldn’t one day grow to be resentful of the fact, Splinter was grateful to have three extra sets of eyes trained on the actions of his most distractible son.

Speaking of eyes – Splinter turned towards the mouth of the alley and took several steps forward. The four boys stumbled after him, small hands brushing his tail and the edge of his hoodie as a guide. His vision nowadays was not what it used to be – a trait he could only assume was a result of his transformation – so he had come to rely heavily on scent and color when moving about.  Nevertheless, his ability to navigate in the dark remained the strongest of the small band of creatures he now called family.

Once he was completely satisfied that they would not be seen, Splinter reached into the pocket of his jacket and withdrew a small bundle of meshy fabric. After a moment of unwinding, he distributed a small reusable bag to each of his sons and jerked his head at the bins. “Red, I will need you to hold a bag for me while I look in the larger bins.” Raphael swelled with pride, and Splinter then turned to his three smaller sons. “You three, go ahead and start gathering. Remember to not eat anything you find until I have had a chance to look it over.”

The boys all nodded obediently as they set about their tasks.

***

“Check this out!” Leo whispered excitedly, drawing his brothers’ attention from their searching. Their scavenging through the cardboard boxes at the edge of the alley hadn’t been particularly fruitful so far – only a few unopened fortune cookies from someone’s takeout and a half-crushed box of crackers. Mikey could feel his stomach grumbling in protest as he rocked backwards on his knees and squinted in the direction of Leo’s voice.

“What’s’it? Something good?”            “Yeah – a remote! See?” The blue-clad turtle shuffled closer on his knees and held out a small rectangular object in his hand. “And it still has batteries in it – I think I can use the recharger we found last time to juice them back up!”

“Oh, cool!” Donnie leaned forward until his head almost bumped into Mikey’s, causing the box turtle to scooch back to allow him a better vantage. “I needed some batteries for my flashlight!”

He reached for the remote expectantly, only for Leo to hurriedly stuff the item into his tote bag and shuffle away. “No way – finder’s keeper’s!”

The soft shelled turtle scowled and reached out again. “Dad said finder’s keeper’s is only for toys and stuff – we have to share tools!”

“Well, then this is my toy.”

“A remote isn’t a – “

“Guyssss I’m hungryyyy. Let’s just go back to looking!”

“Boys!”

The three turtles’ mouths snapped shut, eyes flickering towards the area where Splinter and Raph were and then back towards each other. They waited for a moment, half-expecting to be berated for being too loud, and then heaved identical sighs when no lecturing came.

“Really guys, I’m hungry,” Mikey whispered as he dramatically dropped his head onto Leo’s shoulder. “My tumbus wants food.”

The red-eared slider patted his youngest brother’s head sympathetically, and then gently pushed him off. “Me too. Let’s keep looking. Maybe we can find something good, like… like pizza!”

Mikey could feel liquid immediately rushing to his mouth at the thought of pizza. “Mmm, yeah! A whole entire pizza!”

“As if someone would throw out a whole pizza,” Donnie scoffed as he turned back towards his pile and started searching again. “It’s too expensive.”

           Leo rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah? And what do you know about money?”

“More than you.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Yuh-huh.”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Yuh-huh.”

           And with that they were off again, attention set on each other as they continued to whisper-argue. Mikey sighed. Sometimes he swore those two were twins, what with how much they bickered with each other. Dad had said it was impossible due to their difference in species, but that didn’t stop Mikey from imagining his middle two brothers holding a shoving match even from within whatever egg they had hatched from.            Mmm… Eggs.            The small turtle shook his head as his stomach growled once more. Nope, can’t be thinking about food right now. Gotta keep searching. Gotta not think about yummy scrambled eggs or hot, tasty pizza with cheese that stretched off the crust whenever he bit into it. Can’t think about the intoxicating aroma of tomatoes and spices and mushrooms that was so good  she could almost taste it -

Wait.

Mikey sniffed the air.

That smell wasn’t just in his imagination – he was actually smelling pizza!

Scrambling to his feet, Mikey closed his eyes in concentration and focused on the scent. He slowly turned on his heels, inhaling deeply and trying to zero in on the source of the wonderful aroma until he faced the direction it seemed to be coming from. When he finally opened his eyes, the turtle felt his heart drop.

The mouth of the alley loomed before him like a sideways set of open jaws, warning him not to step out onto the sidewalk lest they chomp down and never let him go. Dad had warned them never to venture past the alley’s boundaries, where they were cradled in shadows and safe from any wandering eyes that happened to turn in their direction. And yet the smell of pizza and other good things drifted from just around the corner like a siren’s song, calling him out into the open.

Surely it couldn’t hurt to just lean out and grab the food, then duck back to his family? Mikey could already imagine the proud look on his father’s face as he returned with a whole box of hot food – a rare delicacy in their family. Certainly he would forgive his son for going just a tinnyyyyy bit further than he was supposed to if it meant being able to feed everyone for the night, right?

Glancing back at his family to ensure that their attentions were elsewhere, Mikey stepped closer to the edge of the shadows and listened. He could hear young humans’ voices chattering and laughing in the distance, and the ground vibrated slightly as an occasional car rumbled down the next street over. Taking a deep breath, Mikey poked his head out of the alley and allowed the tip of his nose to be lit up by the towering street lights. The boy hesitated, half expecting to hear Donnie or one of his other family members hissing for him to come back, and then looked to his left.

A row of hedges lined the front of the apartment building they were next to, and served as one of the few natural sources of green on the heavily brown and red bricked street. Mikey could almost imagine the scent trails winding through the leaves of the bushes and down the alley on the opposite side of the building. Maybe he could just sneak through those bushes and around the corner without even stepping onto the sidewalk- so technically he would still be staying in the shadows. Like a ninja.

Before he had a chance to change his mind, Mikey darted around the corner and cleared the small gap between the edge of the building and the first of the bushes in a single leap. The leaves closed around him like a protective cocoon as he ducked into the foliage, shielding him from the street lamps’ lights and serving as the perfect tunnel to crawl through on hands and knees towards the smell. He hesitated for a moment when he reached a slab of concrete that created a gap in the foliage – the front porch that served as the building’s entrance. This opening as a bit more nerve-wracking than the initial dive into the bushes had been, because there he had at least had the option of turning back.

Mikey glanced over his shoulder and back through the bushes, listening. Splinter had still made no sign of noticing that his youngest was missing. He guessed it was now or never.

The young turtle scrambled forward, fighting the urge to yelp as the front porch light fully illuminated his body, and then threw himself the remaining few feet back into the cover of the bushes. His arms trembled with nerves as he collapsed onto his still aching stomach, and he lay motionless for a moment until he could catch his breath again. Ok, ok. Still safe. His knee stung a bit from where he’d apparently scraped it on the concrete, but other than that he was in one piece.

Better yet, the smell of pizza was almost overwhelming at this point.

Swallowing the drool that threatened to escape his mouth, Mikey pulled himself back onto his hands and knees and closed the distance between himself and where the edge of the bushes met the mouth of the next alleyway. He heaved a small sigh of relief as he could finally emerge from the bushes and dive into the dark alley – safety.

The small turtle’s legs shook like jelly beneath him as he plastered himself against a shadow drenched wall and tried to calm his frantically beating heart. It was odd to think that his family was just on the other side of this building, maybe three or four dozen yards away, and yet it felt as if he had just crawled a mile and was now utterly alone.  Mikey shivered at the thought. Okay, so maybe this hadn’t been as great of an idea as he had initially thought. But it was all going to be over in just a second – all he needed to do was grab the pizza and then crawl back through the bushes. Problem solved!

Lifting his nose again, Mikey crept towards one of the closest bins – a large green dumpster with the lid propped up against the wall of the apartment. The smell of hot pizza was nearly overwhelming, and Mikey felt another shiver run through his body as he imagined biting into the cheesy goodness. Who in the world would throw away such an amazing thing?

But… how to get to it?

Raph and Master Splinter usually had to work together to get the rat high enough that he could lean over the edge of the bin and toss things out. And while Mikey was a good climber, he already knew he wouldn’t be able to scramble up the vertical metal wall without help.

Glancing around, Mikey’s eyes zeroed in on several cardboard boxes like the ones he and his brothers had been looking through in the other alley. Maybe if he stacked those together… yes, perfect!

With a smile of determination, the small turtle set to work creating a staircase along the side of the massive trashcan and then scrambled up to the top. It wasn’t the perfect height, but if he stood on his tiptoes from here he could peer over the edge of the bin.

“Whoa,” he whispered as he pulled himself up to the lip, “This thing is enormous!”

Sure enough, the trash can was about six feet long – nearly triple his height – and almost as tall. A few trash bags lined the bottom of the bin, the plastic on some drawn so tight that they threatened to burst and spill their contents into the rest of the garbage. Several brown glass bottles littered the top of the bags, clearly thrown in by a drunken passerby rather than bagged up safely. But in the center of it all, perched atop a particularly large bag of trash, was the pizza box.

Mikey couldn’t help but let out an excited giggle. Based on the smell and where it sat, someone had to have just thrown the box in a few minutes ago – how in the world had he gotten so lucky? Now he just had to reach it.

Using his arms, the turtle pulled himself up on to the edge of the trash can and balanced on his plastron as he leaned forward to reach. His right arm stretched out into the air above the bin, grasping for his prize while his legs kicking legs served as a counterbalance.

“Almost…. Come on…” Pursing his lips, Mikey waved his stubby arm in the direction of the box. Nope. Not working. He rocked sideways to switch arms and then extended the left one in a second attempt. His fingers brushed the tip of the cardboard, and Mikey felt a grin stretch across his face.  “Almost… almost…”

Then, as if suddenly taunting him, the box slipped and slid out of his reach. Mikey yelped in frustration and lunged forward, fingers outstretched –

-only to find himself falling head over heels.

The child squawked in surprise as he tumbled forward, arms pinwheeling as he attempted to grab the edge of the can and keep himself from falling into the veritable abyss, but gravity was not on his side. The turtle fell heavily, arms barely coming up to shield his face as he dropped like a stone and faceplanted into several swollen black trash bags.

Immediately he went into panic mode, his arms flailing for purchase on the shifting floor. Mikey struggled to push himself up onto his elbows and looked around his new surroundings in fear. “Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no,”

His heart pounded against his ribs as the turtle rolled onto his back and attempted to clamber to his feet, only to succeed in slipping and sliding on the slick plastic until something sharp bit into the bottom of his foot.

All goals of remaining quiet were forgotten as Mikey yelped and leapt backwards from the broken glass, his shell hitting the back of the bin and causing a loud, warping echo to rattle through the metal. Then, as if things couldn’t get any worse, the lid wobbled on its hinges and slammed down, plunging the turtle into perfect darkness.

[thanksjro]

Last Stand of the Wreckers, Issue #1: A Couple of Nerds Nerd it Up

The year is 2009, and you are a British man in his mid-30s. You were a part of a fan club for Transformers in the 90’s, and you wrote a lot of fanfiction and comic scripts for it. The only real claim to fame you have is a novel-length fic you wrote to try and bridge the gap between Generation 1 and the Beast War era, one that a lot of people have read and refer back to. You’re pretty content with that, and don’t try to break into any sort of writing career on your own. You have a job in public service, you have a family.

 One day, your old buddy Nick gets in contact. He wants some help with a story he’s working on for the current holder of the Transformers comics. It’s called Last Stand of the Wreckers.

Things are about to get very busy for you.

I’ll go ahead and say it- not any mechpreg in this one. You gotta wait until the sequel series for things to get weirdly horny, sorry to say. Also, technically only a plotting credit for Roberts here.

We hadn’t yet gotten to the point where he was allowed to rub his grubby little nerd hands all over everything.

So, let’s get to the nitty-gritty of this thing, shall we?

Our story opens on a lovely, sunshiney day on the beautiful Garrus-9.

Perfect weather for a picnic, don’t you agree?

Fortress Maximus and his cohorts are hard at work defending against the Decepticon forces, who have launched an attack on just about everything in the galaxy. This event is happening in the background of All Hail Megatron, as part of an offensive attack under the orders of ol’ Buckethead himself.

Kick-Off, another Autobot at Garrus-9, thinks that this is the work of someone on the inside, and Fort Max wants his prison intact for when they find the rat bastard who caused all this mess to happen, so he can lock that son of a gun up for a long, long time.

Then Overlord shows up.

There he is, the nastiest creature to grace the galaxy, a bitch so extra he’s apparently got to cycle through BOTH of his alt-modes before he lands on the scene to wreck shop.

Prior to Last Stand of the Wreckers, Overlord didn’t really have a whole lot going on. It’s a big part of why he was made the antagonist for this miniseries- nobody else was using him, so no risk of fudging up any continuity happening outside of it. Prior to this, he was mostly part of the Japanese Transformers scene, appearing in the Super-God Masterforce anime and manga. He had a reputation for being a bad dude there too, but not quite to the level we’ll be getting to here.

Also, he was actually two people, who were married. He is not a married couple in Last Stand of the Wreckers.

Overlord asks which one of the much weaker, smaller, and less terrifyingly kissable Decepticons is in charge, and Skyquake steps up, despite the fact that everyone is obviously nervous about the fact Overlord is here. Overlord lets Skyquake know that the plan Megatron came up with is out, and he’s got the new hotness that’ll really put Garrus-9 on a map labelled “Places That Are the Actual Worst.” Of course, Skyquake, who seems to think a guy named Overlord can be reasoned with, says that they can’t deviate from Megatron’s grand plan, and promptly is shot to death for his troubles.

And that’s a series wrap on Skyquake! Let’s give him a hand, folks!

With the little dude out of the way, Overlord’s decided it’s time to go full cowl on the Autobots, ripping them limb from limb. Literally, in some cases. It’s pretty gruesome, but then again, that’s kind of the point. This is a pretty dark miniseries, and not just because of all the violence- but we’ll get to all that later on.

With the Autobots subdued, it’s time for Overlord to really strut his stuff. He releases all the Decepticon prisoners, and promises them a grand old time of torturing their former captives. As a show of good will…? he throws them Fort Max to play with, saying that the only rule is they have to at least TRY to not kill him.

Smash cut to two years, four months, later.

Some nerds just got put on the Wreckers, and they truly are the cream of the crop.

Garrus-9’s gonna be in good hands.

The dude who’s totally copping Optimus Prime’s look is Pyro, and the little dude with the blue helmet and tragic backstory is Ironfist. There’s also Dipstick, but this isn’t about him.

Just as things look like they can’t get any more exploded, their ride shows up, and it’s time to go. They say they’ll catch Dipstick later, but that’s honestly pretty unlikely, given the nature of the Wreckers as a group.

The boys load up into the ship, but find something not quite to their expectations- instead of Ultra Magnus being there to greet them, it’s none other than Verity Carlo, human extraordinaire!

And she’s in her jammies. No real point in getting dressed for a bunch of guys who don’t even understand the concept of nudity, I guess, though I do have to question how vacuum sealed her breasts are.

Unless Verity is one of those godless heathens who actually owns an underwire sports bra.

The boys react to their first human in different ways- Ironfist has his parental instincts kick in hard, immediately ready to protect and potentially die for Verity. The others are a little less impressed, claiming that she’s some sort of stowaway who Magnus only puts up with because she’s good at playing house.

Kind of weird that these giant robots are so good at sexism, seeing as at this point, none of them should even know what a woman is.

This is the point where the big guns come in to greet our boys.

So, here’s the deal: Garrus-9’s been out of contact with the rest of the Autobots for over a year at this point, and it was recently revealed by a mole in the Decepticon Justice Division that anyone getting even remotely close to the planet has been shot down. The destruction of the space bridges means that only a few folks are able to get to the place- cue the Wreckers.

Our boys have been chosen because they’ve done a lot of good work, and protected those around them. It’s an honor to be a Wrecker, but there’s always a catch:

I’m sure it’ll be fine!

Flashback to two years ago, back on Garrus-9, and Overlord’s really enjoying his time on the prison planet, hunting Autobots for sport and scaring the bejesus out of everyone by popping out of nowhere.

This is a typical reaction to seeing Overlord when he DOESN’T intend to kill you. The guy’s a menace.

Looks like they caught their prey, and they’re feeling pretty good about it. What a nice thing for them, I’m glad they’re having fun.

How does this guy know where he’s going? His chest’s so tall.

Our Autobot isn’t going down without a fight, though, as he takes the spear they’re stabbing him with and gives the ‘Cons a taste of their own medicine.

For about two seconds anyway, then he gets wasted by Overlord.

Of course, Overlord’s an equal-opportunity sadist, and also blasts the two guys who let a wounded Autobot get the better of them. With the game concluded and a valuable lesson taught, the Decepticons retire to the base, Overlord ordering the tall-chested guy- Snare- to bring the Autobot for recycling, something that Snare doesn’t seem terribly thrilled to do.

Seriously though, has this dude ever seen his feet?

Back on Ultra Magnus’ ship, Ironfist’s gone and passed out. When he wakes up, he’s surrounded by the rest of the boys, who are really concerned about his well-being. Aww, it’s sweet that they care so much about their buddy.

Ironfist brushes off the concern, saying that he’s fine, and then we’re introduced to his deep, dark, horrible secret.

He’s a massive fucking nerd.

And so are the guys who worked on this story. T’muk, indeed. Also, this robot has... my word, are those fingerprints? Roche, you spoil us.

Ironfist writes datalogs on the Wreckers in his spare time under the screen name Fisitron - Wreckers: Declassified, it’s called. Which, you know, good for him.

Well this panel’s art direction isn’t ominous AT ALL.

Springer enters the scene at this point, also very concerned about Ironfist, to an honestly interesting degree. Almost like he knows something. Ironfist, again, brushes it off. Kup notes that Springer seems like he’s got something on his mind, which he does.

That something is the fact that he’s most likely sending these boys to die, as is the nature of the Wreckers.

Kup points out that it always feels worse when people die under your personal command, then asks if Springer’s conscience is being weighed on by Impactor at all. Springer seems like he really doesn’t want to talk about Impactor. Before the conversation can get any more soaked in implications, the two are called to the bridge.

A flashback to a month prior on Garrus-9: Overlord watches as Kick-Off brutalizes a Decepticon, Borehole, in combat for his amusement. It seems like Kick-Off’s done pretty well for himself in the nightmare hellscape that is Garrus-9, though it’s probably because he’s running on basic survival instincts at this point as opposed to any actual enjoyment of what’s happening around him.

Kick-Off wins the fight by ripping Borehole’s head off.

That’s pretty metal. Most of what happens on Garrus-9 is pretty metal. Not in a good way. But metal nonetheless.

With the fight finished, Overlord congratulates the victor, and invites him back to his quarters to pick out his prize. Kick-Off seems to be off in his own little world at this point, probably disassociating due to trauma.

Back with the Wreckers, we finally see Ultra Magnus, Verity’s put a shirt on- likely at Magnus’ request- and we see what Springer and Kup were called to the bridge for. Looks like a Decepticon ship’s been shooting out a distress signal, and it ain’t lookin’ so hot at present. Ultra Magnus attempts to hail, but it looks like too little, too late, as the thing’s hull integrity goes kaput and the whole thing explodes.

Seems like the end of that, right?

Nah.

Wow, that sure seems like it’ll be a problem. Better shoot that mysterious figure to death before they can be recognized by the cast and cause a whole slew of issues.

Aw, man! Too late. Looks like someone broke out of jail, and nobody is happy to see him.

With that character reveal, we end Issue #1 of Last Stand of the Wreckers.