Information

Sandro
Legacy Name: Sandro

The Custom Nostalgic Chelon
Owner: watson

Age: 11 years, 3 months, 3 weeks

Born: December 30th, 2012

Adopted: 11 years, 3 months, 3 weeks ago

Adopted: December 30th, 2012

Pet Spotlight Winner
July 23rd, 2020

Statistics

• Level: 208
   
• Strength: 520
   
• Defense: 520
   
• Speed: 518
   
• Health: 520
   
• HP: 493/520
   
• Intelligence: 59
   
• Books Read: 59
• Food Eaten: 2
• Job: Weapons Expert

I learned about my heroes on a scrap of paper I used for bedding. You get used to learning everything secondhand when your only shelter is a cardboard box. The illustration was smudged with dirty water but the details were clear enough for me to make out two turtles in combat with a couple of thugs. The jewelry the men were trying to steal stuck out of their pockets, mostly necklaces with pearls only the ladies of NYC can sport without looking like clowns.

Here was proof that a turtle needn't settle for lettuce scraps and gutter water! I wanted to slip through the nearest grate and stroll right into their lair but I was puny even for a young turtle. I couldn't lift a blade and the oldest, most bedraggled seagull in the harbor could easily flip me on my back and make a meal of me.

I would not be discouraged. Splinter was once no more than a pet rat in a cage. Surely if he could imitate Yoshi's moves until he had mastered the art of Ninjitsu then I could do the same. The martial arts studio was just a few blocks from my humble home. I found a perch on the top of some old crates in a back alley. The plate glass windows out front would offer a better view but I would also run the risk of attracting a human's attention. The last thing I wanted was to end up as someone's pet.

I stretched my flippers to the limit and I could feel myself growing stronger. I no longer had to settle for the scraps that not even the rats wanted and I refused to cower in my shell at the shadows of passing hawks.

I did not notice at first when my favorite lake became less crowded. I allowed myself to believe it was my growing skills giving me a well-deserved reputation. I convinced myself that the tingling sensation that clung to my shell after an afternoon swim was nothing to concern myself with. In a few weeks I was three times my original size and the jewel-like pattern on my shell glowed with a subtle green light. I could no longer deny something was very wrong with the water that had once been my haven.

I knew that even the dullest human could not long ignore a turtle the size of a cat with a glowing shell. The time had come for me to seek a new life beneath the city. I could not resist one last visit to the studio and I was sorely disappointed to find the windows boarded up. A trash can outside the back door was overflowing with the discarded uniforms of children who just days ago had splintered boards with their bare feet. Something slender and brown caught my eye. My excitement doubled as I realized the tonfas for what they were. The pair was formed from white oak and fit perfectly in my grasp. I fell into the familiar stances, pretending the thugs of New York were rushing forward to meet me.

One last item caught my attention in the pile of white garments. It was a strip of yellow cloth that may have once served as a belt. I could not suppress a grin. A few well-aimed blows against a rough stone completed my mask.

The main grate was once a place to avoid when the air current there could have sent me flying into a cesspool. I barely noticed the foul smell in the distance as I sought a drier path. The sewers of New York are another world dappled with the light of fluorescent bulbs and the occasional patch of sunlight. It took me hours to stumble through the correct archway.

Leo sat at the table, frowning over a damp newspaper. Mikey and Don were just starting in on a fresh box of pizza while Raph lounged on a brown leather sofa. They all looked up in surprise as I stepped into the light.

"Who's the new guy?" Mikey popped another bite of pizza into his mouth with a grin. "Don't tell me, let me guess. They call you Sunshine."

How could I respond? Only pets have names. I had to think of something, fast. I knew Splinter had a love of Renaissance painters and inspiration came to me from a clipping out of the Entertainment section of a grimy paper.

"I'm called Sandro. I fight to bring justice to the streets!"

Okay, it sounded much cooler in my head. Mikey laughed so hard that half his slice ended up in his lap. Raph gave me a look that clearly showed he was not impressed.

Leo set his paper aside with a sigh. "Protecting this city is no joking matter. We have trained for many years under Sensei Splinter and we still do not win every fight. You are young and strong, but do you have the endurance to face down an army?"

Don had stepped out to fiddle with some water propulsion system he was working on. He rushed in, eyes lit with excitement. "There's a fire on the east side, brothers."

Mikey leapt to his feet, cramming the last bite into his mouth. "What are we waiting for?"

They made no effort to slow their pace for me but neither did they order me to stay behind.

The androids could almost be mistaken for humans if not for the metallic antennae sticking out of their skulls. They burned everything in their path indiscriminately, heedless to the cries of the citizens scrambling to stay clear of their lasers.

The brothers fell on the bots with savage cries, leaving smoking piles of metal in their wake. The bots may as well have been swinging clubs; they were so slow to aim. Intelligence is not required when sheer numbers are overwhelming. Those bots kept coming in row upon row, and still we fought on.

I was afraid at first, but I came to realize I could sense where the laser point would strike almost before a bot made up its mind to fire. I took no damage from the debris flying all around me. I barely noticed the roar of the flames blooming to either side. There was just me and my tonfas, each blow connecting against a solid iron jaw.

There was something else I noticed. The bots seemed to come from all directions but in truth each wave had a point of origin. It had once been a pawn shop but was now a ruined shell. Bashing in the head of another bot, I took off in that direction. I could hear the pounding of feet behind me but whether they were friend or foe, I didn't know.

I leapt through the broken window, stopped short by two new robots with more moving parts than a clockwork toy. Standing behind them was a villain I knew though we had never met. Shredder! He sneered as he gave the order to attack.

I was not prepared for that fight. I put my skills to the ultimate test and even disabled one bot, but in my haste to impress the brothers, I did not anticipate the second bot's left hook.

I awoke back in the sewer lair with a bag of ice on my head. Splinter stood over me, smiling. "I am told you fought well and that you have the makings of a true ninja, but the young often believe themselves invincible until they fall." He offered me a hand, helping me to my feet.

"You should have seen him, Sensei. He saw through Shredder's grid in about a minute." Don fiddled with the mess of wires he held without even looking at them. "If I could just determine how he did it, I could build a patterning device that would pinpoint the origin of future invasions."

Mikey gave him a playful shove and waved me toward the open box of pizza. "Have a slice, kid. You've earned it."

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Overlay by Axiom
Story by Pureflower
Profile by Faber
Inspired by the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles comic series.

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