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Post by DornKoon on Oct 8, 2024 13:21:05 GMT
The hustle and bustle of Manhattan, cars and people in equal measure, hurrying through their daily lives. Most never paid any attention to the world around them, glued to their phones or stuck inside their little reality bubble.
So, most of them were not paying attention to the hunched figure scurrying along the side of the street, moving from shadow to shadow, a cloak keeping their identity hidden as they slunk across the street and into a nearby alley. The figure was carrying a package of some kind, wrapped in brown paper, without any label. It paused several times and seemed to scan the surrounding area before continuing further down the alley.
As it reached a manhole cover, it looked around before quickly opening the lid and disappearing into the darkness of the sewers. Once inside, the figure moved along a well-known path, each crack familiar as it ducked under pipes and leapt over sewage-filled holes. It knew where it was going. The only sounds in the sewers were water; combined with the distant rumble of the city, the figure's feet made no noise as it hurried along.
After a few minutes, the figure reached a circular wooden door attached to a large pipe. After checking around, it opened it and snuck inside.
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Post by Nomz on Oct 8, 2024 23:08:04 GMT
Suspicious green eyes follow as something shifts in the shadows, hunched and moving quickly along the street. Gloved hands tug the edges of his jacket closer together as he booked it across the road, tailing the shadow. There is uncertainty as he ducks behind a garbage can. Damian isn't sure why he is following this figure as it dashes down the alley.
He knows that his sister is expecting him to be home in time to be ready for school in the morning. His suspension ends at 7 am tomorrow. Damian peeks out as he hears the sound of the manhole cover shift as it is dragged out of place. There is urgency in his bones as he sprints the distance in time to reach the manhole's ladder and follow down.
The recent training with Shiva has done him well as his forgotten lessons come into play. He knows better than to follow too closely and he realizes that the figure is silent as it moves. Damian is just as silent as he follows the path under pipes and over sewage-filled holes.
When a circular wooden door comes into sight, the lad hesitates in the shadows and watches. The cloaked figure checks its surroundings once more and Damian holds his breath. Seemingly satisfied, it opens the door and slips inside.
He isn't sure what he had expected of this journey. His feet do not make a sound as he slowly approaches the door, eyes flickering over his surroundings for any hint of trap or enemy. Finding neither, Damian stands just outside the door and indecision paralyzes him.
Is he supposed to knock and lie about getting lost? Should he knock and be honest? Perhaps it is best to just sneak in as well. Different voices and advice fill his head in a disorganized melody.
Damian holds his breath, reaching for the stillness he's only found during meditation. Lady Shiva told him that he needed to find his own voice. What is his voice here?
His shoulders straighten as he reaches for and pulls the door open. Whatever consequences he shall face for this, he shall face them standing tall.
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Post by DornKoon on Oct 9, 2024 9:47:18 GMT
A short tunnel created from the large pipe would be on the other side of the door, and it seemed oddly clean to be in the sewers. Planks had been added to make a walkway of sorts. Small cloth bags were hanging along the walls, and it did not take more than a sniff to realise they were filled with fragrant herbs. The pipe would open into what could only be described as a... home. It is a surprisingly homey area with a big couch in front of a wide-screen TV and several carpets on the wooden floor. Other short tunnels continued into different rooms, a kitchen, and several bedrooms...
One was filled with all manner of techs and gadgets strewn on most available surfaces; the next was incredibly clean and well-organized, with a pair of katanas hanging on the wall next to a shelf with leadership and martial arts books. The third room was even more messy than the first, with stacks of pizza boxes at odd places. The fourth room did not have much, but it did have a wall with several different designs of Sai weapons.
Yet, there did not seem to be anyone at home, apart from a faint scraping sound from a tunnel at the top of the stairs. In that direction was what looked like a traditional Japanese chamber, the kind found commonly in a dojo. The walls are dominated by beautiful artwork, and several square lanterns hang from the ceiling. The noise source was the figure from earlier sitting in front of a low table, writing on parchment.
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Post by Nomz on Oct 9, 2024 13:30:15 GMT
Warily, Damian steps into this underground home, and his eyes trace every inch he can see. He notes where the shadows are and the weapons in the bedrooms. The place gave the impression that it belonged to warriors of some type. Damian toes off his shoes, tucking them beside the door before allowing himself to proceed inside. If he got chased off, he could always buy a new pair. Not disrespecting this home feels more important.
The sound of his movement is hushed even further when he is in socks, but Damian thinks better of this as he walks towards what looks like a dojo. His footfalls pitpat as he climbs the stairs up. Whoever this mysterious figure is, Damian knows not to underestimate them.
When he reaches the entrance of this dojo, he raises a hand to rap his knuckles on the wall and is so thankful for the domino covering his eyes. The boy does not speak as experience steals his voice and reminds him that he must wait to be acknowledged first. The punishment for doing anything else was bound to be severe.
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Post by DornKoon on Oct 9, 2024 14:45:02 GMT
The figure stopped writing, and silence settled in the dojo as the figure looked up from the parchment.
"You are very light on your feet, my young and unexpected guest." The figure spoke in an audible Japanese dialect. He identified the way Damian was standing at the door; he had also removed his shoes, which... was not something most guests bothered doing, and his sons did not use shoes.
So far, he was impressed with how the boy handled himself, apart from the breaking-and-entering part, which he did not mind as others might have. Still, it was best to get things over with, as the first sign of trust would go a long way.
The figure removed his cloak, revealing himself as an elderly-looking anthropomorphic rat dressed in a traditional Japanese kimono of red and black with accents of gold. The rat showed no signs of being threatening, and his eyes looked kinder than feral. His posture was relaxed, and his voice soft. "Be not alarmed at my appearance; you are in no danger here; it is a place of learning, not violence." He gestured for Damian to enter. "Come in; let us have a look at you."
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Post by Nomz on Oct 10, 2024 0:15:38 GMT
Damian struggles against the urge to tense as the figure stops, knowing that this would also lead to punishment. His mother is not here to protect him.
He bows his head as he is addressed, accepting the judgment of his skills and worries about being referred to as a 'guest.' Guests did not invite themselves into a stranger's home. Interloper is a better descriptor for the boy.
Damian straightens his posture as the figure removes his cloak and his gaze takes more interest in his kimono, hardly glancing twice at the figure's less-than-human features. Upon invitation, Damian steps into the dojo, pushing his hood off of his head as a sign of respect, however, he does not move to remove his domino.
"Good evening, sir," he greets as he approaches the little table. Damian does not sit without permission, waiting with his hands resting at his sides. "I am known as Renegade. I apologize for coming in unannounced."
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Post by DornKoon on Oct 10, 2024 8:34:17 GMT
"Good evening, young Renegade." He had curiously watched as the boy walked; he had the posture of someone who had done this before but also one who was ready to take action, a tension so common among the young warriors. "Your apology is accepted. Do have a seat." He gestured with his paw before moving to stroke his whiskers as one might a moustache. "They call me Master Splinter, or at least that is the name my sons have given me."
Master Splinter turned his attention to the parchment and continued writing; Damian could see he was writing in Kanji.
"So, what did I do wrong to make you able to track me?" He asked, a voice genuinely curious to know. "I'm not so old that I cannot learn from my mistakes nor foolish enough not to listen to the young." He paused and looked at Damian. Now, what would the young renegade say? "And do you want something to drink? I think we have some Coca-Cola left unless you prefer tea, like myself?"
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Post by Nomz on Oct 11, 2024 3:49:20 GMT
Damian bows his head in acceptance before kneeling, the movements so achingly familiar to him. "Thank you for welcoming me, Master Splinter. Your home is quite wonderful and it humbles me to be before you."
His eyes never wander to the parchment despite it being well within view. It is a war between his training demanding he respects the man before him and his training insisting he gather as much information as possible. The latter is useless as Damian cannot read and understand Kanji.
The question surprises Renegade and he only manages to stop his eyes when they land on Splinter's chin. He lets them lower again so his gaze rests on his hands over his knees.
"I was already looking," he starts, recalling how he had been out patrolling. "Many things are lost in the shadows and so I often focus my attention there. That was when I saw you. Foolish as it was, I let my curiosity get the best of me and I followed you to the best of my abilities."
"I was trained to never let my subject escape my sight. I was successful in that." He says this all easily as if giving a mission briefing. It is another action he has practiced often. Damian's nose wrinkles in response to the offer of soda.
"Tea is the preferred option if it is not too much trouble, Master Splinter." There is hesitation. "I would offer to make it as it is customary where I am from. This is your home. I will abide by your customs."
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Post by DornKoon on Oct 11, 2024 12:11:41 GMT
"Thank you. I always felt that is the hallmark of any good home," Master Splinter said, "It does tend to be a little louder when my sons are home."
Master Splinter nodded as Damian answered the question.
"I see, one of the young heroes of New York, that would explain it. Much like the secret of figuring out a magic trick is not looking where the magician wants you to. No harm, and you could not have known if I was a criminal trying to hide, so I will not hold it against you." He looked up from the writing, eyes focused on the young visitor. "As you can see, my choice to remain hidden was more about not causing panic; a humanoid rat walking the streets of New York would cause something of a stir."
The Ninjutsu Master was pleasantly surprised when Damian offered to make the tea, which was not what he had expected but certainly not unwelcome.
"By all means," he gestured to the side, and Damian would find a nicely arranged tea set on a wooden shelf by one of the walls, together with a pot for heating the water. "Everything you might need to brew tea is over there; you are most welcome to make us some if you wish."
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Post by Nomz on Oct 12, 2024 1:49:03 GMT
"Considering the number of strange things in this city, I feel it may not cause as much of a commotion as you may believe," Damian answers quietly with a tinge of humor in his tone. Between all the Spider-people and villains, Master Splinter hardly seems something to panic about.
Curious green eyes follow the gesture and come to rest on the tea set. Renegade nods his head in thanks, "It would be a pleasure, Master Splinter."
With that, he rises to his feet and walks over to the utensils. Every movement or shift in his stance is loudly communicated to show he means no harm. He tucks his gloves into his belt for ease of access and gathers the teapot, moving to fill it with water for boiling.
"Tea service is something held dear to my people, even those of us who kept to the shadows. It is used as a tool and oppertunity to sit and converse with those around us." Two cups are placed on the low table Master Splinter had been occupying in preparation. Damian keeps an ear out for the soft whistle of the tea kettle as he works, picking out a green tea to work with. Next time, he will need to bring something from his home. Perhaps sage and mint with a dark blend.
The kettle is in his hands before it can call for him, and he is back to the low table having brought sugar and cream if the old master prefers them.
"You mentioned this was a place of learning. What do you teach?"
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Post by DornKoon on Oct 12, 2024 8:45:31 GMT
"Yes, perhaps you are right, Renegade." Master Splinter said, "The world is certainly changing, and my boys are making a name for themselves, shining like the stars I knew they could be, calling themselves the TMNT, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles." He chuckled, knowing the sons had been pleased to join the rank of heroes protecting New York and befriending Spider-Man simultaneously. "Not the name I would have chosen, but they must walk their path."
Master Splinter watched as Renegade made the tea; he had a practised hand, something he had been tasked with doing before.
"Yes, a tradition I am keen to maintain in this world of technology and innovation." He commented, "People today run around; they forget the importance of sitting down for a nice chat over a pot of tea. You are very wise for one so young, this is good. You have the luxury of youth and the power that comes with it. I always find the young to be a source of endless potential." Master Splinter had learned that the genuine delight in life was helping the next generation grow.
"I'm teaching the art of Ninjutsu," Master Splinter replied, accepting the tea. "I can also teach Caligraphy and the sacred practice of Ofuda." He flicked his hand, producing a slip of paper with writing between two clawed fingers. "Imbued with the power of the kami, they can ward against evil."
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Post by Nomz on Oct 13, 2024 1:07:48 GMT
It takes nearly all of his self-control to keep his eyebrows from lifting into his hairline. Ninja Turtles. They were real. More so, he had managed to wander into the home of their father.
"My mother and grandfather ensured they passed along as much wisdom as possible by any means necessary." Renegade leaves out the methods that such lessons were learned. He knows well enough that few would approve and Master Splinter would not be in that few. "Perhaps the next time we have tea, I shall bring some from my collection. Our teas are more botanical in nature or very dark and sweet."
Damian shifts on his knees, getting comfortable once Master Splinter accepts his tea. He cradles his cup between his hands as the older man speaks, eyes sparkling with interest that is not quite hidden.
"I was trained a bit in Ninjutsu," he offers quietly, eyes on the slip of paper Master Splinter held between his fingers. "While I have never studied Caligraphy, I dabble in painting, so I am accustomed to the way a brush moves. Ofuda, however, is outside my realm of knowledge."
Renegade hesitates, wondering if it is alright to blow on as if the man is already his teacher, but he finds himself hoping to learn from him anyway. He tips his head to the side just a fraction, green eyes warry and curious.
"What would one have to do to obtain lessons from one such as yourself?"
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Post by DornKoon on Oct 13, 2024 9:41:19 GMT
Master Splinter smiled; hearing him say, next time was heartwarming.
"I look forward to it," he replied. "Yes, passing knowledge from parent to child is sacred. Your grandfather must be proud of the polite young man you've become." If he noticed how it was said and decided, he would do it differently instead of asking. He was no stranger to the nature of those who saw their child as a tool, not a person. "My father was a harsh teacher; misbehaviour was not tolerated, and punishment was severe. I was to be the new head of our clan, I had the honour to uphold, and my father wanted to be sure I had what it took, any means necessary."
With a sip of tea, Master Splinter closed his eyes.
"I had a feeling that was the case," Master Splinter said, eyes still closed. "Soft of feet and silent of breath."
Master Splinter opened one of his eyes at Renegade's question; he examined the boy for a few moments, curiosity apparent but also a tiny hint of worry. The Ninjutsu Master opened his other eyes. "Asking is a good first step." He replied, "I'm not one of the Masters who hide behind a need for grand trials and tests for potential students to prove their worth at being students. If anything, the Master need to prove themselves worthy to teach, more than the students need to prove themselves worthy to learn." Master Splinter could never approve of those teaching for the sole purpose of making tools.
"Still, it would be a treat if you would demonstrate your skills and show me your form." It was said from a place of genuine curiosity, but it also made sense for a potential teacher to see what the student could do; what else was there to build on?
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Post by Nomz on Oct 14, 2024 1:41:42 GMT
Damian's shoulders tense a fraction at the mention of Ra's al Ghul being proud of him in any fashion. He knows without a shadow of a doubt that he does not wish to make that old bastard proud. As Master Splinter continues, Renegade meets his gaze with recognition and understanding. He is no stranger to such a life.
"Master Splinter," he says with quiet determination, "Would you kindly teach me what you know?"
Renegade rests his tea on the table, looking around the dojo. "Would you prefer I merely show my form or did you wish to duel me to see the full extent of my abilities?" He does not sound concerned about not being able to measure up. If he was enough for Lady Shiva to take him back under her wing, surely he could be enough for this Master Splinter.
"You have already experienced my ability to follow and track while being light of foot myself. What would you have me do?"
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Post by DornKoon on Oct 14, 2024 10:59:34 GMT
"Yes, of course, I will if that is your wish." Master Splinter said with a nod. He examined Damian, glancing at the dojo momentarily before looking at the boy again. He was undoubtedly eager to prove himself, and this was good. The confidence was there, but also all the pride which so often came with youth; Splinter saw it in his sons all the time; he could not fault him for that. "Perhaps a game would serve our purpose best," he slowly got up, collecting his cane before walking over to one of the walls. "And it is true, your skills in tracking are excellent, and you've got the softness of feet that my sons have trouble mastering." Master Splinter pulled out a small dragon made of green glass, turning it over before looking at his young student. "Your lesson is to get this dragon from me. And you need to do so without the dragon breaking." He balanced the dragon on one of his claws, the figurine catching the light in the room, making it glitter. "No time like the present, begin."
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