RightorLeft

Seventeen, Part 1 Vegeta flung his seventeen-year-old son into the chamber ahead of him, slamming the door and engaging a full lock down before turning to the boy, disgust written on his features. "You are far too old to be acting like this, Trunks," he reprimanded, arms folded imperiously over his chest. The boy was already back on his feet, glaring at his father with undisguised fury. "I could say the same to you," he growled, and Vegeta strode up to him and backhanded him across the face. "Do not talk back to me, boy," he snarled, and Trunks swung at him. What ensued was not a fight, nor could it be considered sparring. It was not even

It was time to talk to Splinter. Michelangelo had been un-humanized by breaking into a secret government lab and—(that was where North had stopped them. He didn't want to know). Then, less than a day after things had been put to rights, the boys had taken it upon themselves to perform a raid on a known Purple Dragon stronghold. This had gone about as well as expected, meaning that while the criminals had been thwarted in their attempt to hide amazing amounts of stolen goods, Michelangelo had gotten injured pretty badly, prompting another, much more hysterical late-night/early morning phone call to North, and instigating a sleepless nigh

The phone rang. North jolted awake. The phone ringing at this hour could only mean one thing. "North here," he said, trying to sound awake and authoritative. "Heeeey, Northie, can I ask you a favor?" Or two things. It could mean two things. North blinked, trying to get his brain to start. "Mike?" he asked stupidly. "The one and only," came the reply. Annoyance was the fuel that finally started up his thought process. "Michelangelo, are you aware that it is currently two o'clock in the morning?" he demanded, sleep making his voice deeper and more threatening than it would have been normally. Mike 'eeped' on the other end of the line. "E

North knew something was up when he saw four of them. They were letting him see them, and he found that interesting. He took a step backward out of the pool of light and into the shadows, where they would be on more equal ground. He raised his hand in greeting, and lowered it slowly when he saw the look on Mike's face. "Hey, North," Mike said, sounding dejected. A slightly bigger turtle with a blue mask was standing behind him, doing a very good impression of a father forcing his son to apologize for something. North resisted the urge to laugh. That had to be Leo. "Hey, Mike. So, I take it these are your brothers?" "Yeah. This is Leo, Rap