Music of a Turtle's Childhood
Oct. 8th, 2014 09:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katleeptWorking Title: Music of a Turtle's Childhood
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Character/Pairing: Splinter, Turtle Tots
Rating: G/K
Challenge:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
comicdrabbles: #91: Vinyl Record
Warning(s): None
Word Count: 500
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.
He's spent another sunrise digging through muck in search of anything his family might be able to put to good use when he finds it. His claws make a rather unpleasant sound on the vinyl as he lifts up the black disc. He spins it around in the air, surveying it.
He has seen this thing before, or rather things like it. The humans put them on machines to make music. Splinter's tail snaps. He's not quite certain he can call all the noises these discs make music, but some of them do sound pretty decent. He's rather certain his boys will enjoy it, but upon closer surveying, the rat notices cut marks on the disc. One small piece is completely chipped.
He shakes his head, sighing as his shoulders sag. Even if he had one of those machines the humans play the discs upon, this one would not work. No music will ever again come from this creation, no matter how thoroughly it is dried or how much tape he uses. He drops it back into the sewage; it clatters as it hits a pipe.
With another heavy sigh, Splinter turns and scrounges through the bag he carries. He's not found much this morning, a few bills that can be added to the others he's been finding and saving and may finally enough to buy his family a decent dinner or some much needed medical equipment, a couple of broken toys he's rather certain he can patch together so that at least Michelangelo will have something to entertain him, a book with only three pages missing, some broken crayons, and something mechanical to whose purpose he has no clue. Donatello will enjoy tinkering with it, though.
He sighs. His whole countenance, tails, ears, whiskers, and fur droop with melancholy as he heads home. As he nears his their current living area in the sewer, however, his ears perk to full alert in response to a great commotion. He quickens his pace, then breaks into a run as he hears something striking something. "Leonardo! Donatello! Michelangelo! Raphael!"
His boys are not answering him; Splinter's heart is in his throat by the time he reaches them. Donatello is the first to stop playing; he drops the spoon he's been using to strike metal cups while looking sheepishly up at Splinter. "I'm sorry, Sensei. I was just trying to give them something fun to do."
Leonardo and Raphael have stopped strumming the stringed creations Donatello made for them from yarn and old brooms. "Shoulda known we can't have any fun in this dump," Raph grumps while Mikey, oblivious to everything else around him, continues banging with sticks on large pots and pans.
Splinter looks at the young turtles, each in turn, a light shining in his aging eyes. His whiskers twitch. His tail sashays. "Continue." He smiles while they resume their play. Then he laughs. Children will find ways to be children, and maybe his young will enjoy their childhoods, after all.
The End
Author: Kat Lee
Fandom: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles
Character/Pairing: Splinter, Turtle Tots
Rating: G/K
Challenge:
comicdrabbles: #91: Vinyl RecordWarning(s): None
Word Count: 500
Summary:
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.
He's spent another sunrise digging through muck in search of anything his family might be able to put to good use when he finds it. His claws make a rather unpleasant sound on the vinyl as he lifts up the black disc. He spins it around in the air, surveying it.
He has seen this thing before, or rather things like it. The humans put them on machines to make music. Splinter's tail snaps. He's not quite certain he can call all the noises these discs make music, but some of them do sound pretty decent. He's rather certain his boys will enjoy it, but upon closer surveying, the rat notices cut marks on the disc. One small piece is completely chipped.
He shakes his head, sighing as his shoulders sag. Even if he had one of those machines the humans play the discs upon, this one would not work. No music will ever again come from this creation, no matter how thoroughly it is dried or how much tape he uses. He drops it back into the sewage; it clatters as it hits a pipe.
With another heavy sigh, Splinter turns and scrounges through the bag he carries. He's not found much this morning, a few bills that can be added to the others he's been finding and saving and may finally enough to buy his family a decent dinner or some much needed medical equipment, a couple of broken toys he's rather certain he can patch together so that at least Michelangelo will have something to entertain him, a book with only three pages missing, some broken crayons, and something mechanical to whose purpose he has no clue. Donatello will enjoy tinkering with it, though.
He sighs. His whole countenance, tails, ears, whiskers, and fur droop with melancholy as he heads home. As he nears his their current living area in the sewer, however, his ears perk to full alert in response to a great commotion. He quickens his pace, then breaks into a run as he hears something striking something. "Leonardo! Donatello! Michelangelo! Raphael!"
His boys are not answering him; Splinter's heart is in his throat by the time he reaches them. Donatello is the first to stop playing; he drops the spoon he's been using to strike metal cups while looking sheepishly up at Splinter. "I'm sorry, Sensei. I was just trying to give them something fun to do."
Leonardo and Raphael have stopped strumming the stringed creations Donatello made for them from yarn and old brooms. "Shoulda known we can't have any fun in this dump," Raph grumps while Mikey, oblivious to everything else around him, continues banging with sticks on large pots and pans.
Splinter looks at the young turtles, each in turn, a light shining in his aging eyes. His whiskers twitch. His tail sashays. "Continue." He smiles while they resume their play. Then he laughs. Children will find ways to be children, and maybe his young will enjoy their childhoods, after all.
The End
