Whitewolf89
04-17-2006, 11:25 AM
Okay, since I've begun posting this monster in a couple of other TMNT forums (the alternate Drome Forum, Mikey'sTMNT.com forum Tigerfog's Obscure Zodiac forums; etc.; to be exact), I've decided to begin posting it here, too. I hope you all like reading it as much as I enjoyed writing and posting it!
Anyway, here's my sort of disclaimer:
I do not own the TMNT or anything concerning them, Pete Laird does. I also do not own the Biker Mice from Mars or anything concerning THEM; a very nice gentleman by the name of Rick Ungar does. I also don't own the names of "The BlackRuby" or "Tredz", or some others that I'll probably be throwing in this thing from time to time; they are owned by some buddies of mine in the Biker Mice fandom and are used herein with their express permission. However the name and characters of Whitewolf ("Wolf"), Shiningflame ("Flame"), ("Ice"), Firefrost ("Frost"), "Shadowstorm" (Wolf's ancestral sword) and "Wyldfyre" (her cyber/warbike) do, and are owned by and are copyrighted to me. So if you want to use any of them in a fanfic of yours, please ask BEFORE doing so, okay? I'll more than like GIVE permission, but it's always NICE to be asked first.
However, IF you want to try you hand at drawing any of my characters, please feel free to do so. I'd love to see y'all's versions of them.
Oh, btw, italics indicate thoughts (or flashbacks...though NOT in THIS installment!), and bold type indicates yelling or something similar. Just thought that I'd throw that in.
I also decided to give this a PG-13 rating to cover any mild cussing. NOT that there will BE all THAT much of it, but I'd rather err on the side of caution. Just to be on the safe side.
Oh, yeah, and this is intended for the entertainment pleasure of TMNT and BMFM fans everywhere, and I am making absolutely NO profit off of it, so don't sue me, please. You wouldn't get much.
Anyway, on to the FIRST installment of this merry bit of madness of mine!:
=============================
Of Biket Mice and Ninja Turtles
Chapter 1
"There's a NEW Ninja in Town!"
It was an unuasually warm, balmy, very nice night int the enormous, bustling city of New York, New York, U.S.A., and Whitewolf, daughter of Mars, descendent of the ancient Martian House and Clan of the BlackRuby, warrior, Freedom Fighter, and Healer, brought her beloved black Martian cyber/warbike, "Wyldfyre", to a halt on the top of an older building in lower Manhattan, several blocks south of the Empire State Building. As she...and her three teammates...had been doing practically every night for a full year now, she was looking for signs, evidence, that a Plutarkian boss or overlord had been covertly installed in New York, just like they had been in Chicago, Detroit, Los Angeles, New Orleans, Las Vegas and Cleveland. Or was going to be, according to the info that the Intelligence Section of Command Center back on Mars had received last year. So far, she and her teammates hadn't found a single shred of evidence that backed that info up, and she was personally beginning to serious doubt Stoker's source, as well as the length of this sandblasted recon-mission.
Whitewolf, or "Wolf", as she was more commonly called by her family, friends and fellow Freedom Fighters, sighed softly, feeling very frustrated. It usually didn't take this long to ferret out even the most miniscule of signs of the worthless, reeking rotfish in any city that they infiltrated, even in one this size, but Stoke had stood firm on this one: she, Flame, Ice and Frost were to stay put in New York til they found out for sure one way or another...no matter how long it took.
Naturally, she's balked at that. It had been a full year now since they'd come here from Chicago, and she, as well as the others, were more than ready to pack it in and head back home to Chi-Town. And she'd point-blank told Stoke, that, no matter what he said, no matter what Command Center said, no matter what his "unimpeachable source" on Plutark Prime said, she and the others were only giving this mission six more months, and once that period of time was up, they were going home to Chicago. No "ifs", "ands", or "buts". Sis more months. That was it. Then they were going home. And there was absolutely nothing that anyone on Earth or Mars could do about it!!!
"This trip was STUPID, anyway! The Triad only knows that we have ENOUGH to deal with trying to keep a handle on Limburger in Chi-Town, and that blasted crazy catfish Brie in Detroit! The four of us CERTAINLY didn't need to come traipsing all the way across the U.S. to New York to try and find stinkfish in a city THIS size! It's like trying to find the proverbial needle in the equally proverbial haystack!" she silently fumed, irritated, as she crossed her arms on her handlebars and leaned on them. Her long, white-furred tail switched in concert with her steadily-growing irritation. "'Sides...Stoke COULD'VE sent ANOTHER scout-team here....like Typhoon and Blaster. They ARE scouts; recon-experts, so THEY'RE really good at THIS kinda stuff. I'm not. Why ME?!"
But, even as she thought it, Wolf already knew why. She knew that, despite being one of the Biker Mice, Stoker had chosen her for this little mission for one very specific reason; a reason that marked her as being slightly above ordinary Martian soldiers or Freedom Fighters. A reason that she sometimes resented very greatly.
She was one of Mars' few remaining trained Ninjas.
Unlike Terran ninjas, who had specific, well-known, centuries-old traditons of families and clans, Martian-type Ninjas didn't. On Mars, you became a Ninja because ypu wanted to become one, not because it was a family/clan tradition and you were born into it, like in Japan.
She, herself, had become a Ninja long before she'd joined the Freedom Fighters years later at age 18, simply because she'd become fascinated by it. Even at a mere six years of age, she'd liked and admired the ideas of the discipline, the traditions and the sense of high honor that went with Martian Ninjitsu. So, with her parents' clear approval, consent and blessings, she's applied to, and been accepted as a student by, Master Sandstorm, the highest-ranking and most revered and respected Ninja-Master in Mars' long history. And, in time, he became much more to her than just her Sensei and Master. He became like another father to her. On that she loved, trusted and respected in the same way that she did her own blood-father, Tredz.
Her mouth quirked slightly in aggrevation as she remembered just how Stoker had snookered her and the guys into this sandblasted mission.
When Stoke had first approached her with it, she'd point-blank said "No". They already had way too much on their collective plates as it was, trying to keep Limburger under control. And when she had, he'd played dirty...really, really dirty.
Knowing full well that if her Master asked her to do it, she wouldn't; couldn't; refuse to, out of her intense sense of honor and loyalty to her Master, he'd gotten Sandstorm to ask her. He had, and, just as Stoker had figured, she hadn't refused her Master's request. So, consequently, here she, Ice, Flame and Frost were. But not for much longer. No, indeed.
She quirked a a sly smile than as she abruptly remembered something else; something that gave her a great deal of personal satisfaction.
Because the one thing that Master Sandstorm hadn't done was put an "indefinite time-limit" on his request. Stoker had, unfortunately. His time-limit had been very bluntly phrased as "Until futher notice!" Master Sandstorm's had been phrased more along the lines of "Until you feel that there's no more reason to stay there". Despite that, Stoke had sneakily wangled an initial year long stay out of them, and they'd been here that long, already. Exactly one year, tomorrow.
Because their time in New York was up, technically, Wolf had decided to extend it just a bit longer, and had informed Stoker that, as mission-leader, she was giving the mission at least six more months, but, at the end of that time, irregardless of what they found, or didn't find, she was calling the mission done, and they were going home to Chicago. Six months. That was it. If, at the end of that time, they found no sign of Plutarkians, the mission was effectively over and they were pulling out and going home to Chi-Town. Period. End of subject. Her mind was made up.
She was still thinking about that when the chiming of a huge clock on an office building a few blocks away abruptly caught her attention and she looked in that direction to try and see what the time was that was registered there in bright, digital numbers. "11:37 PM", it read. She winced openly. She's intended to be back at their hidden NYC base by at least 1O PM. She knew that her three teammates were more than likely already "home" by now. She sighed softly as she reached up to close the visor on her helmet. Time to pack it in herself, and head back for the night.
Anyway, here's my sort of disclaimer:
I do not own the TMNT or anything concerning them, Pete Laird does. I also do not own the Biker Mice from Mars or anything concerning THEM; a very nice gentleman by the name of Rick Ungar does. I also don't own the names of "The BlackRuby" or "Tredz", or some others that I'll probably be throwing in this thing from time to time; they are owned by some buddies of mine in the Biker Mice fandom and are used herein with their express permission. However the name and characters of Whitewolf ("Wolf"), Shiningflame ("Flame"), ("Ice"), Firefrost ("Frost"), "Shadowstorm" (Wolf's ancestral sword) and "Wyldfyre" (her cyber/warbike) do, and are owned by and are copyrighted to me. So if you want to use any of them in a fanfic of yours, please ask BEFORE doing so, okay? I'll more than like GIVE permission, but it's always NICE to be asked first.
However, IF you want to try you hand at drawing any of my characters, please feel free to do so. I'd love to see y'all's versions of them.
Oh, btw, italics indicate thoughts (or flashbacks...though NOT in THIS installment!), and bold type indicates yelling or something similar. Just thought that I'd throw that in.
I also decided to give this a PG-13 rating to cover any mild cussing. NOT that there will BE all THAT much of it, but I'd rather err on the side of caution. Just to be on the safe side.
Oh, yeah, and this is intended for the entertainment pleasure of TMNT and BMFM fans everywhere, and I am making absolutely NO profit off of it, so don't sue me, please. You wouldn't get much.
Anyway, on to the FIRST installment of this merry bit of madness of mine!:
=============================
Of Biket Mice and Ninja Turtles
Chapter 1
"There's a NEW Ninja in Town!"
It was an unuasually warm, balmy, very nice night int the enormous, bustling city of New York, New York, U.S.A., and Whitewolf, daughter of Mars, descendent of the ancient Martian House and Clan of the BlackRuby, warrior, Freedom Fighter, and Healer, brought her beloved black Martian cyber/warbike, "Wyldfyre", to a halt on the top of an older building in lower Manhattan, several blocks south of the Empire State Building. As she...and her three teammates...had been doing practically every night for a full year now, she was looking for signs, evidence, that a Plutarkian boss or overlord had been covertly installed in New York, just like they had been in Chicago, Detroit, Los Angeles, New Orleans, Las Vegas and Cleveland. Or was going to be, according to the info that the Intelligence Section of Command Center back on Mars had received last year. So far, she and her teammates hadn't found a single shred of evidence that backed that info up, and she was personally beginning to serious doubt Stoker's source, as well as the length of this sandblasted recon-mission.
Whitewolf, or "Wolf", as she was more commonly called by her family, friends and fellow Freedom Fighters, sighed softly, feeling very frustrated. It usually didn't take this long to ferret out even the most miniscule of signs of the worthless, reeking rotfish in any city that they infiltrated, even in one this size, but Stoke had stood firm on this one: she, Flame, Ice and Frost were to stay put in New York til they found out for sure one way or another...no matter how long it took.
Naturally, she's balked at that. It had been a full year now since they'd come here from Chicago, and she, as well as the others, were more than ready to pack it in and head back home to Chi-Town. And she'd point-blank told Stoke, that, no matter what he said, no matter what Command Center said, no matter what his "unimpeachable source" on Plutark Prime said, she and the others were only giving this mission six more months, and once that period of time was up, they were going home to Chicago. No "ifs", "ands", or "buts". Sis more months. That was it. Then they were going home. And there was absolutely nothing that anyone on Earth or Mars could do about it!!!
"This trip was STUPID, anyway! The Triad only knows that we have ENOUGH to deal with trying to keep a handle on Limburger in Chi-Town, and that blasted crazy catfish Brie in Detroit! The four of us CERTAINLY didn't need to come traipsing all the way across the U.S. to New York to try and find stinkfish in a city THIS size! It's like trying to find the proverbial needle in the equally proverbial haystack!" she silently fumed, irritated, as she crossed her arms on her handlebars and leaned on them. Her long, white-furred tail switched in concert with her steadily-growing irritation. "'Sides...Stoke COULD'VE sent ANOTHER scout-team here....like Typhoon and Blaster. They ARE scouts; recon-experts, so THEY'RE really good at THIS kinda stuff. I'm not. Why ME?!"
But, even as she thought it, Wolf already knew why. She knew that, despite being one of the Biker Mice, Stoker had chosen her for this little mission for one very specific reason; a reason that marked her as being slightly above ordinary Martian soldiers or Freedom Fighters. A reason that she sometimes resented very greatly.
She was one of Mars' few remaining trained Ninjas.
Unlike Terran ninjas, who had specific, well-known, centuries-old traditons of families and clans, Martian-type Ninjas didn't. On Mars, you became a Ninja because ypu wanted to become one, not because it was a family/clan tradition and you were born into it, like in Japan.
She, herself, had become a Ninja long before she'd joined the Freedom Fighters years later at age 18, simply because she'd become fascinated by it. Even at a mere six years of age, she'd liked and admired the ideas of the discipline, the traditions and the sense of high honor that went with Martian Ninjitsu. So, with her parents' clear approval, consent and blessings, she's applied to, and been accepted as a student by, Master Sandstorm, the highest-ranking and most revered and respected Ninja-Master in Mars' long history. And, in time, he became much more to her than just her Sensei and Master. He became like another father to her. On that she loved, trusted and respected in the same way that she did her own blood-father, Tredz.
Her mouth quirked slightly in aggrevation as she remembered just how Stoker had snookered her and the guys into this sandblasted mission.
When Stoke had first approached her with it, she'd point-blank said "No". They already had way too much on their collective plates as it was, trying to keep Limburger under control. And when she had, he'd played dirty...really, really dirty.
Knowing full well that if her Master asked her to do it, she wouldn't; couldn't; refuse to, out of her intense sense of honor and loyalty to her Master, he'd gotten Sandstorm to ask her. He had, and, just as Stoker had figured, she hadn't refused her Master's request. So, consequently, here she, Ice, Flame and Frost were. But not for much longer. No, indeed.
She quirked a a sly smile than as she abruptly remembered something else; something that gave her a great deal of personal satisfaction.
Because the one thing that Master Sandstorm hadn't done was put an "indefinite time-limit" on his request. Stoker had, unfortunately. His time-limit had been very bluntly phrased as "Until futher notice!" Master Sandstorm's had been phrased more along the lines of "Until you feel that there's no more reason to stay there". Despite that, Stoke had sneakily wangled an initial year long stay out of them, and they'd been here that long, already. Exactly one year, tomorrow.
Because their time in New York was up, technically, Wolf had decided to extend it just a bit longer, and had informed Stoker that, as mission-leader, she was giving the mission at least six more months, but, at the end of that time, irregardless of what they found, or didn't find, she was calling the mission done, and they were going home to Chicago. Six months. That was it. If, at the end of that time, they found no sign of Plutarkians, the mission was effectively over and they were pulling out and going home to Chi-Town. Period. End of subject. Her mind was made up.
She was still thinking about that when the chiming of a huge clock on an office building a few blocks away abruptly caught her attention and she looked in that direction to try and see what the time was that was registered there in bright, digital numbers. "11:37 PM", it read. She winced openly. She's intended to be back at their hidden NYC base by at least 1O PM. She knew that her three teammates were more than likely already "home" by now. She sighed softly as she reached up to close the visor on her helmet. Time to pack it in herself, and head back for the night.