Au Cannon Compliant - Blog Posts

ROTTMNT : SPIRITS WITHIN THE WEAPONS

Masterpost

Night Grafiti

Plot: Fundi watches Michelangelo as he works his magic.

Genre: Fluff, Light Hearted, Feel-Good, Original Character, AU/Canon Compliant

Notes: This piece was so much fun to write and designing some art for Miley to graffiti was exciting. I nearly drove myself crazy trying to find a name for the art though. Also, Google Docs has American English and not British English (as far as I am aware), which is really annoying for me as a British person since it keeps telling me I'm spelling words like 'Colours' and 'Favourite' wrong… when really I'm not. Sigh. Anyway...

I also drew art for this! I drew the graffiti Mikey paints! I'll add it at the end.

Please enjoy!

Idea based on this playlist and art work, (original artist mentioned in video description).

Perched on the edge of a roof of an old New York apartment, Fundi had both a perfect view of the clear night sky, adorned with a bright crescent moon; and the young black-clad turtle using his fingers to frame the wall before him. The turtle stuck his tongue out to the side as he stepped back, visualizing all the possibilities an untouched wall like this could hold. The colours. Shapes. Story. Theme. It was endless. He could do anything with this blank canvas. 

Fundi smirked, leaning forward with anticipation as he noticed the young turtle's thoughtful expression turn into a bright grin, brighter than the moon itself. Michelangelo has come up with his next brilliantly artistic idea. And Fundi couldn't wait to see what the orange-masked turtle would turn his blank canvas into. 

This wasn't the first time Fundi had joined Michelangelo in trekking the back alleys of New York to look for a good spot to place his mark, and it certainly won't be the last. Michelangelo wore his usual graffiting outfit: a pair of black cargo shorts and a baggy sleeveless black hoodie. Both of which were already coated in new and old splashes of neon paint. Bright pinks, blues, greens, purples, and his favourite shades of oranges.  

Michelangelo shrugged off his backpack and used his foot to shift the bag closer to the wall. He never took his eyes off his canvas. Sure the lighting was bad. The building was blocking out most of the moonlight and the alley was too far back for street lamps to reach him. But that had never put Michelangelo off before. In fact, it only added to the challenge. And Michelangelo loved a challenge. 

He bent down, still eyes fixed on the wall, and fumbled around to find the zip on his bag. It took him a moment, but soon he had the bag wide open, pouring out a wide assortment of colourful spray canisters, some new, some old. Finally he tore his attention away from the wall and mused over what colour to pick first.

He chose white. 

A colour he didn't usually start with.

Fundi knew this was going to be special 

Michelangelo got started on his art. 

Fundi shifted from the edge of the roof down onto a dumpster behind the young artists. He swayed from side to side, watching keenly each stroke Michelangelo painted. The turtle stretched his arm out wide, huge circular movements, long wobbly lines, bold and thick corners, tiny details, filling the whole wall. He even had to stand on an old crate to reach as high as he could. 

It was all so fascinating to the Kusari-Fundo Spirit. 

Fundi remembers the first day he watched Michelangelo graffiti a wall. 

He was sitting on the floor in front of Leonardo, Donatello and Raphael as they watched an old Jupiter Jim film, a film the turtles had seen multiple times before, but this was the first time Fundi had watched it. He was glued to the screen. Transfixed. Awed. The most entertained he'd been in… years? Decades? Ever? 

But he didn't miss the fact that Michelangelo wasn't there. His wielder mentioned something about "getting ready to work his magic", whatever that meant, but Fundi found the film more interesting.

That was until Michelangelo walked out wearing painted cargo shorts and a sleeveless hoodie. Fundi quickly jumped, startling Tonfa who had been focused on the film as well. Eyes wide in wonder. Suddenly whatever this "magic" was that Michelangelo had mentioned was the most interesting thing to him. The turtles hardly ever wore human clothes, and when they did, it usually meant something fun was going to happen. (Unless it was their usual lazy hoodies, but that didn't count)

"I'll be back later, 'kay." The youngest sang out merrily as he slung his backpack over his shoulder. 

"'Kay." Leonardo waved without taking his eyes off the screen.

"Be safe." Raphael leaned back over his beanbag, holding out his phone with his usual oldest brother concern. "Text or call us if anything happens. Don't wander too far away from the lair. Make sure to bring snacks and a bottle of water. Stay in the shadows—"

"Yeah, yeah, Ralph." Michelangelo chuckled. "It's not like I haven't done this before." 

The elder turtle frowned a little, opening his mouth to say something when he felt one of Donatello's mechanical arms pat him on his shell. Raphael calmed with this motion. It was Donatello's way of telling him that everything was alright. 

The red‐clad turtle playfully huffed a little before he slouched back into the beanbag with a small smile. "Have fun, Mikey." 

The youngest beamed at that. Quickly running up behind his oldest brother to wrap his arms around his neck. "I will. And I'll make sure to take a pic of my art when I've finished it, 'kay?"

"Art?" Fundi muttered with a tilted head and a curious flicker in his flaming eyes. 

Raphael half hugged him back with a chuckle. "Go work your magic, lil bro."

"Magic?" Fundi repeated curiously. 

With a skip in his step and a wide grin on his face, the orange turtle made haste in leaving the lair, heading to top-side. 

Fundi hung back a bit. Debating on what to do now. The film was very fun, but surely the turtles would watch it again, right? Whereas the mention of "magic" and "art" was new but it could also be something just equally as boring. He had no idea which option was better. 

"Don?" Leonardo nudged his twin without turning away from the screen.

"Yeah, yeah. There's a tracking device on him and in his bag. I'll keep an eye on his location." The purple turtle stated lightly. 

Everyone relaxed when they heard that. Fundi had no idea the turtles were so nervous about the youngest going out by himself until their tight postures fell and they all let out a sigh of relief. 

Okay, so maybe going with Michelangelo was the funner option. Afterall, anything could happen top-side. The endless possibilities of trouble, mayhem and mischief—not at the expense of Michelangelo getting hurt of course— was too much to miss. His eyes glistened at the thought. 

"You can go if you want." Tonfa giggled at the youngest spirit. Of course Tonfa knew what was going on in his head, Tonfa always knew what was going on in Fundi's head. "And if Oda asked, I'll just tell him you're making sure Michelangelo stays safe." 

Tonfa didn't need to tell him twice. 

Magic and art… there was no way it would be boring.

Right?

…..

Wrong.

It was boring. 

Fundi zipped back to the Kusari-Fundo that Michelangelo wisely kept at his side, utilizing a handy ability all the spirits had: an ability to teleport to their weapons no matter how far away their weapon was. It certainly saved him from having to search through the sewers and alleys above for the orange‐clad turtle. 

Only to find the turtle staring at a blank wall. 

Was that it?

What was so exciting about a blank, brick, alleyway wall?

Fundi muttered his incoherent annoyances, kicking a lone can that was abandoned on the alley floor, knowing full well his foot would just pass through without affecting the crushed cylinder. But that didn't stop him from trying to do it again. And again. And again. 

"I missed a Jupiter Jim film for this!" He fumed.

He hovered around, paying no attention to the turtle, wondering if he could make it back to their lair by himself. Oh, but he didn't have an ounce of a sense of direction. He'd only get lost and then have to zip back to the Kusari-Fundo. He tried to play with a stray cat, which obviously couldn't see him. Then tried to pull off some of Michaelangelo's awesome gymnastic-type moves… if Funding was not a spirit he would've broken quite a few bones trying this. But at last, nothing eased his boredom. (If only Oda was around, teasing the elder always gave him a kick.)

Finally, he flung his attention back to the wall, eager to burn the offending bricks with his frustrated flames, when his eyes caught something new. He sputtered out a gasp. 

The wall, once drab and grey, with old crusty bricks barely holding themselves together, was now… magical!

Michelangelo really had worked wonders on the wall. Stunning arrays of yellows spread out across the side of the building forming large bubbles outlined with a deep sunset orange. Weaving in between the bubbles were vines of turquoise and teal, purple thorns poking out in between large blue and pink carnations. Lastly, slightly off-center was the centerpiece of the magical art: a black silhouette of a female warrior holding up a phone instead of a sword and a book instead of a shield. She looked to be ready for war. 

Truly magical.

Fundi had never been more wrong. 

He was glad he didn't stay in the lair.  

He had never been so enthralled in his life—outside of a fight of course. 

This is what art was!

That first experience of Michelangelo's art sparks a new adoration for the turtle in Fundi. Now, whenever Michelangelo threw on those old black baggy graffiting clothes Fundi felt his stomach churn with anticipation. He'd drop whatever he was doing just to follow Michelangelo out on his night graffiti trips. Each new piece of art was different. Unique. Unmatched by anyone else. 

And tonight was no different. 

A surreal fantasy world opened up before him. A sky of deep midnight blues and royal purples, speckled with countless starts and adorned with gigantic pink, purple and orange planets. The orange planet was the biggest, taking up most of the sky with two red rings circling it. A small black spaceship was flying along one of the rings, a trail of bright neon blue left behind. And a person in white hovered above the rocky red grounding at the forefront like a ghost. A gasmask around their face, long silver hair floating in the anti-gravity air. Colours of crimson and black outlined them in a bright glow. They were watching, waiting for the spaceship that was miles away. 

Fundi couldn't take his eyes off it. The longer he stared at it the more he felt from the graffiti. The longing from the person in white. The awe of the vastness of space. The thrill of an incoming adventure as the spaceship came into view. 

The art was profound.

The art was endless.

The art was magical.

Only Michelangelo could've painted such a piece. 

Looking at it, Fundi felt himself grow closer to the turtle more and more. 

This is his new favourite of Michelangelo's art.

Fundi approached slowly. He reached out to drape his arm over the young turtle only for it to pass right through him. Michelangelo shuddered as he whipped out his phone and took a pic of his work. 

"What should I call it?" The young turtle asked absentmindedly, not realizing that there was someone listening to him.

"Hmm?" Fundi pondered. "Space wonder? The orange planet? Awaiting adventure? Planetary journey? Orbital?—"

"Orbital ghost!" Both Fundi and Michelangelo said at the same time.

Fundi gasped. "I knew I had telepathy!"  

~End~