Chapter Text
It was a shiver worthy, cold, raining night. The lights of New York never dying, always on, like an eternal flame. The rain didn't flood the sidewalks, but instead left puddles all around. Perfect for kiddies in raincoats to jump in. The rain started to drizzle but never stopped, feeling like the eternal lights all around. The rain had fit in here.
In the ever-knowing sewers, the orange turtle put a black, pullover jacket on which had many color splotches. Soon adding the well-known vest from the snow day episode on top of it for extra warmth and style. He put on a gas mask and picked up his also-black-and-color-splotched duffel bag full of spray paints. He looks through the colorful holder of items and checks for every color he absolutely needs. It seems to be all good until he gets to orange.
"Oh mi gosh!" He quietly exclaimed, "where's the orange.. how will I sign my art without ORANGE?!" He whispers and then silently shouts the color. He tapped his head, trying to remember where he put the can. He "cursed," meaning he said, "pizza supreme" and "Jupiter Jim" things like that, as no thought of where it could be had come to him, only cute cats went to his brain. Forgetting about volume, the box turtle then decided rummaging through his room like there was no tomorrow would be the best option. Little did he know he was being louder than he wanted to be. Louder than he should be.
Mikey found his spray can in the weirdest place ever... It was wedged between the desk side that is covered in stickers, and the wall which was covered in some of his best and quite recent works of art. The turtle grabbed it, trying to pull it out didn't go so well... He tried again but this time putting one leg on the wall and another on the desk. He twisted and pulled with all his might to go flying with the can in hand. He fell on his shell, breath knocked straight out of him. "My pizza supreme..." He gasped out the words. He laid there for a moment, breathing out deeply. Then he got up, smiling at the can and placing it in his (now slightly squished) bag.
Remembering it was late and this was meant to be secret, placing down his bag as he started tiptoeing towards his door. Hoping nobody was awake around this hour, he peeked his head out. Nothing to be seen really... He trusted there wasn't a soul awake in these sewers. (Except for bugs... but that's not the point) Mikey soon went back in the room, grabbing his supplies. Knowing the bag could be loud as hell from the last time he did this, he went slowly and held his bag close. Leaving the room to be "one with the shadows" that his rat father, Splinter, taught him to do.
He reached the ladder, shifting the bag more onto his back and climbing upwards. Moving the sewer lid, (hatch? he couldn't quite find the word) he then checked for people above very carefully, but near flooding himself with how it's raining. Assuming nobody was there from the somewhat silence of cars and few people chatting afar, he quickly ran out but gently put the lid/hatch back so nobody would hear him. Soon climbing another ladder up to the rooftops, being extra careful with how slippery it was. Once he reached the top, and definitely didn't almost fall, he took a look upon the ever-glowing world above and below. "New York, what a sight" he said, nearly saying 'New York, what a town' from his brothers/dads word's. The cities still raining, no thunder in his visuals or hearing though. It was the perfect rainy night, but how he wanted to spray paint says otherwise. He soon remembers why he was here by feeling his ever-waiting-to-be-used bag of spray paints on him and groans.
"How am I supposed to paint with all this rain? Did I get out here for nothing?" He lets himself say aloud since he wasn't inside. "No," he says, looking for something optimistic. "I'll just have to find an abandoned building, yeah that'll work!" He high fives himself inwardly, soon jumping building to building. He finds nothing so far as every single structure looks new and usable, that is until he comes across one with a broken door and gloomy aura. It seems like the place has died down, as he stares at it for a minute... He then hears a cat's meow as he walks in closer, making his thoughts dart around. He starts to nearly dash in there to see the kitty and check if it's okay because... Well, this building is torn, that's why!
As he ran into this gloom-of-doom place, he listened closely for the meows to get louder. "Kitty cat??? Hello?" He started yelling as if the cat would understand him and talk back an answer. He soon realized the sounds were getting indeed louder, he was so close. Then he realized what this place looked like, making him near barf... It was full of dead animal carcasses and the scent was overwhelming now through his gas mask. He opted to ignore the looks because he definitely couldn't ignore the horrendous smell. Trying to hide his already covered beak from the smell, he found the cat stuck under some rubble. The box turtle gasped as the cat meowed out for help. Placing his bag down, he pulled upwards on the giant piece of building to try and get the cat out. Its legs weren't working, the small creature crawled outward and continued meowing in pain. "You poor baby, oh mi gosh-" Near hurling at the sight and the smells getting worse.
He decided he was going to take this cat with him so he could fix 'em up. "Come here, precious little kitty, it's okay" trying to get the cat to trust him and not scare it, he did a few pspsps's to the animal. It slow blinked at him, showing trust. He then carefully picked it up and put it in his bag, making sure it was comfy and secure, then picking it up precisely. Then Mikey had tried to leave carefully whilst the smell was blaring into his nostrils. The turtle felt the stomach acid rising to his throat. He was scared he was about to puke with nowhere to even puke without the smell penetrating his nose even more. He picked up his walking pace but kept it light so the cat would be okay.
The acid was all the way up, he had to throw up. Panicking, he pulled his mask down a bit, until he swallowed it and made his throat burn... "Dear Jupiter Jim, my pizza supreme, jeepers, golly gosh-" Gasping out near every non-curse word he could think of. He finally got out of that dead hell, looking at the cat in the bag as it looked up at him, he'd say it was smiling if cats had expressions. He sighed, "this is going to be one heck of a long night..." Sitting down for a moment to catch up with himself and think of a plan.
Little did he know, this same cat would bring him good and bad, both sides of the table.