Thread: Sorry (WRONG PLACE. Delete plz. ^^ )

RE AU Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, TMNT gender swapped. GM Looking for MXF M playing F The air was silent, and The night began to push late into the twelve o'clock mark. The street's were empty, and one would assume that there is peace and quiet. But in reality, the silence is all to familiar, and just as sinister. Normally, gang's would be using the cover of darkness. But, not many would dare risk it in these parts of new York. Few can go toe to toe with Them, and even then, the stronger gang's know not to mess with Them. They are organized, strong, and in great number. One could barely even call them a gang. If anything, The Foot Clan, is it's own Mob. And all of New York City is it's playground. But more accurately, they are an army. With one leader. A ghost, a women that does not exist. But still drives fear into her foes. The foot clan has it's fair share of kid's, teen's, punks, delinquents. All just as rowdy, just as loud. But, also their fare share of elite's. Each hand picked to go up in their ranks. From common street thug. To Foot Ninja. Trained to serve under their master, and if need be die for her nefarious ends. Strange days indeed, and more strange sight's are to be found in the street's of New York. From the pollution of strange substances have come strange being's. Mutants. Being's derived from random accident, and strange twist's of fate. Some, maybe created on purpose? None the less. From mob's, to mutant gang's, to strange nefarious ninja. The street's have become deadly, riddled with violence. Life barely being able to go on as normal. With the effort's of the NYPD, as well as military and government support. New York has successfully avoided being a war zone, or being walled off from the rest of the country. Both of which, are still a high possibility. The greatest of threat's, lives in the shadows. The foot clan, and their Master Shredder. Which leaves one to question, if things would get worse. If, they can get better... Perhaps, fate will gift us with heroes.... The truth, was that it will gift us with sisters. On the supposedly empty street, at an end to it's empty road. Sit's the only sign of life for as far as the eye can see. A car. Parked along the side walk. Hiding, inconspicuous, a lone figure inside of whom is lurking. Hiding much like the car he sits in. Slowly, he pull's from his picket a recorder. Pressing the button, and holding it close to his lip's. The street's are dark, and foreboding. My sources seemed to have been right up until now, but I can not be sure of the legitimacy to my moles statements. This neighborhood is a dead horse, and I am kicking it. No one lives here any more really, and those who do are smart enough to keep quiet. It is obvious I don't have the police support I requested for this stake out. No one witnesses anything, so they say. Nothing happens here as of late. But that is because no one is reporting, out of fear. And, the local precinct seem less afraid and more bribed to me. No matter, I don't need protection. And it seems like to nights.... Going... No where. As he began to stutter with his words, he can see activity. But, it would seem my sources are right on the money. He quickly stop's the recording. And reaches to his passenger seat. Pulling over his camera, a canon eosd 1000. With a 10.1-megapixel CMOS sensor, an EOS Integrated Cleaning system and Canon-designed Self Cleaning Sensor Unit, plus Dust Delete Data Detection in included software. Suffice to say, it's a beast. And costs about seven hundred new. But, He isn't hear to admire his camera. Jacob, was here to get a story. The Foot clan. Practically ghosts. Sure, it's not to hard to find a roughneck here and there in their ranks, a petty thief here, a kid tagging there. But, These are the real deal. The people that your meant to think don't exist. Jacob had it in mind that they were just really careful enforcers. And these men were just here to protect a rather large shipment of Methamphetamine. But, if the second he had to see that man was any clue, based on his rather oriental attire.... They were way more dangerous, and skilled, then he had bargained. Jacob soon spring's to life. Quietly closing the door to his Saturn Outlook. He brushes his hand through his jet black hair. He look's both ways as he crosses the street with haste. Prepping his camera, and hanging it's strap around his neck. He lean's his tall, slender frame against the wall, slowly leaning and peering into the alley way. Nothing, but... People don't just vanish. Slowly he clears the corner, and, huddles his body. Lowering his back, and in a crouching movement hides behind the dumpster. His heart beat'as faster, as he can see shadows, two men talking. Inside a hole, most likely the brick wall was busted into some time ago. Before he was there? Surely he would have heard. None the less, they were inside the building. Slowly, he crouch walks to the hole. Now being able to see inside the closed down store more clearly. With a quiet sigh, he is prepared to go into action. Take a few snaps. And run for the car. He peers around and through the hole. Seeing that there were now 15 men inside. Each wearing some strange clothing. Like a uniform. Each was slacked, and lose clothing, a dark blue, some a deep purple. One, whom was spouting orders, wore a deep grey. Perhaps color meant rank? As he can tell, by the prominent symbol on their shoulder's. They were foot clan. A small badge, yellow. Each with a black foot. They were waiting for the shipment. Apparently, they were using the sewers to travel the drugs un seen. Up to this point. Only when they hear a knock, followed by a key phrase would they open the metal hatch. It seemed they had cut their way to the sewers, and topped it off with a security hatch. Just as Jacob began to spin forward, and shoot a few shot's. A feeling came over him. Shooting through his body, and tensing through his muscles. He stops, and waits. Maybe his intuition told him he needs to catch them with the drugs? Or, more accurately. Something life changing was about to happen before his eyes, if he only waits a minute longer.... He lowers his camera, looking into the building. His muscles tensing. To the point where you can swear you see his abs through his jacket. And, sure enough, he will see the beginning, of something more important then his next scoop. And, will be dragged into something, where he may play a bigger role then the truth. Perhaps even directly be a part of something greater then journalism....