15469/Favor Flav

Favor Flav
Date of Scene:	13 August 2023
Location:	Somewhere in New York
Synopsis:	While out investigating a lead of potential Foot Clan activity on a live stream, April O'Neil is kidnapped and dragged away out of frame. Luckily, Casey Jones happened to be just a couple of blocks away!
Cast of Characters:	April O'Neil, Casey Jones

---

April O'Neil has posed:
The waning light cast long shadows across the New York streets, making the city seem quieter than usual. Gloomy clouds scudded across the skyline, threatening more than just rain. April O'Neil, her red hair escaping from beneath a helmet, pedaled swiftly through the maze of traffic, her bicycle tires humming over the damp asphalt.

Navigating between taxis and buses, she felt the familiar vibration of her phone in her jacket pocket, and spotting a park bench just up ahead, she steered her bike towards it, jumping off with practiced ease. She propped the bike against a nearby lamppost and swiftly pulled out her phone, the screen's glow illuminating her face in the gathering dusk.

The message just read, "He's going to drop them off tomorrow." With the gloom deepening and the city's countless mysteries lurking around every corner, April felt a thrill of anticipation. She quickly typed a response, her fingers dancing over the screen. Then she switched contacts to Casey Jones.

>> Hey Casey, could you do me a favor tomorrow?

Casey Jones has posed:
* Dzzt Dzzt *

The sound of a mobile phone vibrating against sweat panted pocket echoed through the convenience store, interrupting the sounds of a Barry Manilow song playing over the speaker system.

The only other noises were the persistent hum of row of fridges and freezers.

In the distance, a conversation was going on, intending to be whispered, but it was becoming agitated, and it was in Pakistani.

Reaching into his pocket, Casey pulled out the phone with his left hand, while his right hand remained firmly planted against the bag of ice, which was currently being pressed against his left shoulder.

He was slumped down, on the floor, so as not to attract attention.

His golf bag was next to him, mask hidden in there amidst the baseball bat, cricket bat, golf club, and everything else he carried out when doing his vigilante thing.

He texted back one handed.

>> Anything babe, jsut name it

And yes, he misspelt 'just'.

April O'Neil has posed:
'Babe.'

April rolled her eyes, but she couldn't help the little smile that quirked her lips as she read the reply. Typo included.

>> Need you to pick up a package for me. Penn Station at noon. I'll give you the details later.
>> You okay?

Typos were a thing. But knowing Casey, it didn't hurt to check anyway.

Casey Jones has posed:
By the point that April had sent her third message, which wasn't long after the second, Casey was on his feet, talking with one of the employees of the convenience store, about how he can't just 'borrow' a bag of ice. If he takes it out of the freezer, he has to buy it. Casey though, had already put it back in the freezer, and said, "it's still cold, 'ain't it?"

He had taken a sealed bag of ice, used it to ice down his shoulder, and put it back. The fact that he had crouched down, sitting on the floor as he did it, well, he knew it was wrong, but he was living off an honest mechanic's income. And he was doing his best to be a vigilante.

The employee had to look up at Casey too, which wasn't helping the poor guy. Casey also had a good 50 pounds or more on the guy. And all of that was muscle. Still, you had to commend the guy for standing up for what he believed in. "I tell ya what, next time I'm in here, I'm buyin' some ice, fair ke-mo sah-bee?"

Kimosabe? What was that, from the Lone Ranger? What did that have to do with the Pakistani employee?

There was a lot more yelling, and Casey just kind of tried to talk his way out, slinging his golf bag over his shoulder as if it was as light as a feather, "all right, all right, I'll go back to my apartment, and get some money, okay?"

The man rolled his eyes into the back of his head that he might have lost an inch or two in the process.

And just then, the other one came with a broom!

Casey had to make a quick getaway, ducking and weaving, letting one employee knock over a display of Campbell's soup. The other one would crash into 24-packs of bottled water. Casey though, he managed to get out of there.

A moment later, from an alley way.

>> Consider it dun

>> Just send me the details

>> Nope

>> I'm down 1 April. Think ya could help me with that?

April O'Neil has posed:
April stood there, waiting. No reply. She glanced up around her at the traffic on the street. No reply. She felt a couple of stray raindrops lands in her hair. Not even enough to be considered a drizzle. No reply. She checked the time...

Nope...

She was starting to text a reply back when that last message came in, and it turned her concerned stare into brief laughter.

>> How about I buy you lunch tomorrow when I pick up the package from you?

Casey Jones has posed:
Casey Jones didn't know it, but he was only two blocks from her, which was how it could go in New York. It was so big that you could be on completely opposite ends. Or you could be practically next to each other, and not know it if neither shared location details.

He started on foot, heading down one street. And then his phone went again.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled it out, doing a sort of adjustment of the golf bag, so that it didn't slip off his other shoulder.

>> Great! You buy lunch tomorrow and I'll cook tonight?

April O'Neil has posed:
April's lower lip disappears between her teeth. She could blow off her story and have dinner with him... probably miss the big break she's been looking for her entire career, eventually lose all of her subscribers and her job at Channel 6, become a complete laughing stock in her field...

>> Can't tonight. Following up on a lead.

She'd started to type 'Raincheck?' and then deleted it.

>> Already late. I'll text you in the morning.

She started to put the phone back in her pocket and get back on her bike, but she hesitated. A few swipes later, she turned on location sharing for him. No reason why specified. But, in the past, that always meant trouble.

Then she got back on her bike and started pedaling.

Casey Jones has posed:
It had begun to rain, more of a sprinkle, than a downpour, but it was wet. That was surprising for this time of year, but welcome in the summer heat. It would cool things off, which was good; but also make his muscle shirt stick to his chest, which was less good.

Looking down at his phone, he saw the first one. He was already in the process of typing back, when he got the second one.

>> You need any help?

And then quickly added.

>> In case it's dangerous?

If she kept pedealling in the same direction, she just might run into the big buff vigilante.

April O'Neil has posed:
No response. Maybe she didn't see the messages, but that was unlikely. April really wasn't one to make things like this easy. If she'd texted anything, it might have just been, "Can't wait," not realizing how close he was, but she didn't even do that. She didn't run into him, either, though he'd guessed pretty well. She cut down a different alley and ended up just a block away from him.

Just a couple minutes after her dot stopped moving, he would get a notification on his phone that she'd gone live on social media, though.

***

New York City's skyline was a somber silhouette against the brooding clouds that loomed overhead, already lightly drizzling. The city's signature bustle was muted in the thick haze of an approaching twilight. The labyrinthine alleys of Manhattan took on a more sinister demeanor in the gloom, casting elongated shadows that played tricks on the eyes.

April O'Neil, in her iconic yellow jacket, weaved through one such alley, clutching her phone. The wind rustled her red hair, and the wet, early evening air made her pull the jacket closer. Taking a deep breath, she pressed the "GO LIVE" button.

"Hey, Truth Seekers. April O'Neil here," she began with a hushed intensity. "I'm currently in Lower Manhattan, following up on an anonymous tip about some alleged Foot Clan activity. Now, for those of you new to the channel, the Foot Clan is -- well, let's just say they're the type of story mainstream media tends to avoid."

She zoomed in on a suspicious gathering further down the alley. Cloaked figures huddled around a large, unmarked truck, their conversations just whispers carried away by the wind.

Squatting behind a rusted fire escape ladder, she whispered, "For my regulars, you know this could be the break I've been waiting for." She paused, noticing the emblem on one of the figure's robes -- the unmistakable insignia of the Foot Clan. "Bingo," she murmured to herself.

However, before she could say more, a hand suddenly clamped over her mouth, and her phone toppled sideways, its lens capturing her startled blue eyes before it hit the ground. She tried to scream, but her voice was stifled. April bit the hand, and with a muffled curse, her captor momentarily released her.

She gasped, taking a split second to address her camera, hoping it was still recording. "For anyone watching this," she rasped out, desperation evident in her voice, "I'm at--" But before she could finish, she was silenced and dragged into the increasing darkness. The last image the camcorder caught was her boot, scuffing the ground as she was pulled away.

Casey Jones has posed:
Casey Jones wasn't as tech savvy as Donatello, he might not have even been as tech savvy as Michelangelo or Leonardo, but he understood an alert that April O'Neil had gone live. He slipped into a nearby alleyway, to escape some of the light drizzle of rain, and watch her report. He leaned against the brick wall, his right knee bent so that his shoe could be flush with the wall. It didn't look comfortable, but it worked for him.

It could have been anywhere. So much of New York looked like the rest. But he did catch that she was in Lower Manhattan. When she said it on his phone, he said it aloud, as if they were having a conversation, "hey, I'm in Lower Manhattan too!"

He was so proud of her, watching, seeing her uncover more Foot Clan activities. But when things got all too real, he shouted back at his phone, "you let your greasy paws off ah her!"

And when she was being pulled away from the still streaming video, he shouted out, "April? APRIL!" He looked at the screen, trying to see if there was anything in there that he might be able to make out. And then he noticed something new on his screen when he was zooming in. "Huh, what's this."

He clicked on a map and it showed that he was really close to her? "I'M COMING FOR YA APRIL!" He shouted, slipping his mask on.

He ran towards the location that her camera had been left, climbing over a mesh wire fence, down another alleyway, and he was there...

April O'Neil has posed:
...but there was no sign of April or her captors. The once busy alley was eerily quiet, and the wind seemed to carry with it a chilling whisper. The dimly lit surroundings cast eerie shadows on the damp cobblestone streets, and the lingering scent of rain mixed with the distinct aroma of the city gave the area an ominous feel.

There, at the dot marked on his map, he found April's phone still on the ground, its screen illuminating small puddles. To the untrained eye, the alley seemed deserted, but Casey's instincts honed from countless skirmishes on New York's streets would tell him differently.

Tucked beneath a nearby dumpster, he would spot April's discarded bag, and amongst her notepads and personal belongings, was a small, hand-drawn map with a few marked locations. One of them was circled in red.

Like some kind of dark, twisted scavenger hunt, that map would lead Casey to a disused and dilapidated warehouse nearby. Its rusted exterior was a testament to the passage of time and the encroaching sea air. A relic from a bygone era, the building had become lost amidst the city's rapidly changing skyline.

From the outside, it looked abandoned, with boarded-up windows and graffiti covering almost every surface. The front door hung slightly ajar, revealing the pitch-black void within, and the area around the warehouse was eerily silent. However, as Casey approached, he noticed a faint glow emanating from one of the upper windows and muffled voices echoing from within.

Casey Jones has posed:
Casey Jones, still wearing his mask, came across the phone. He didn't crouch down to examine it, he'd get it after, if he had to, but for now, he was giving anyone still viewing the stream a view of his muscular and masked form from the ground. He let out an audible sigh.

Spying her bag beneath a nearby dumpster, he only then squatted down, reaching for it, and pulling it out. He was careful, rising to his feet before going through its contents, and all on camera.

He wouldn't be surprised if a straggler was left, someone watching, or just keeping an eye on things.

Seeing the mark on the map, it was then, and only then, that he went for her phone. The last thing her viewers would see is his hockey mask, as he ended the stream, and put that into his pocket.

Casey Jones knew he could be watched as he approached the warehouse, but he wasn't so dumb or inexperienced that he'd just go through the front door. He saved that for when he had Turtle backup. Instead, he approached one of the boarded up windows, trying to get a peek. He was going to see if there was any other entrance.

He found one rail on the side of a building to the upstairs, but this one was locked, and with a chain.

Fortunately, he had a nifty set of bolt cutters in his bag.

April O'Neil has posed:
"Let me go!" April yelled into the empty warehouse, her voice echoing. "Do you know who I am?!"

There's the sound of a slap -- skin against skin -- and April screams in pain and rage.

"You're not going to be so tough when my green friends get--NGNGHHGHGGH!!!!" Or, with any luck, Casey, who was infinitely closer. Suddenly she wished she hadn't ignored the text when he asked if she wanted backup.

Inside, the sight of three Foot Clan soldiers can be seen dragging her backwards, one of them tying a bandana around her mouth and the back of her head as a makeshift gag. Crude, but effective.

Casey Jones has posed:
Once getting past the lock, Casey Jones opened the door as quietly and slowly as he could. Trouble was, the damn thing needed some WD-40. It creaked like a mother... Through his mask, he rolled his eyes and sighed visibly. Well, it would be visible if anyone were close enough to get a good sense. That mask his most of his facial features.

Surprised that the warehouse was quite visibly empty, Casey Jones decided to throw caution to the wind, and he ran in, his footsteps forceful, echoing on the catwalk of the second floor, and he threw a black spherical object up into the air, and hit it out of the air, downward, towards the Foot Clan Ninja.

It was a hockey puck being hit as if it were a baseball. Well, it worked, and his aim was true, even if the visual was a bit odd. "You harm one hair on her head, and there'll be hell ta pay!"

April O'Neil has posed:
The four youngish-looking clan members (if size and build were any indication) were busy tethering April to one of the metal support beams when that hockey puck came out of nowhere.

*THUNK*

Of of the four goes sprawling out, leaving three of them to suddenly look up through their hoods with the buggy silver eyes and iconic red headband.

"HAY-HEE!"

That's April's muffled CAY-SEE for anyone playing along at home. Not a weird Michael Jackson reference. Bright blue eyes look up from the puck that clattered to the floor, searching around the room in the same way that the Foot Soldiers were. It was evening, raining, and the warehouse wasn't lit.

As soon as one of them made eye contact, he tapped on the one beside him and the two took off, running and scurrying up an I beam to get to that second floor catwalk while the last one of them stayed with April.

Casey Jones has posed:
"One down, three ta go!" Casey said, loud enough that it echoed throughout the warehouse. There was a method to his madness. His devil may care attitude was intimidating. And with the darkness, the rain, and well, his look, a big tough guy, big biceps, big chest, he really could spend more time on leg day, wearing a scary white mask, and that crazy hair of his, it created a certain look.

Moving along the catwalk, which ran across the back wall. To his far left, there was a stairwell. To his far right, an office. But before the office, there was a perpendicular catwalk that crossed over the width of the building, and that had another stairway. He reached into his golf bag, pulling out a tire iron, so that he was now armed with that and a baseball bat.

He moved to the center, so that he was close to April and the third Ninja. But the other two were closing in. "You mooks gonna attack one at a time, or both at once?" Daring them to attack him, his plan was to jump, so that they could run into each other, having spotted a waste bin that seemed to be filled with cardboard boxes, that he could leap into.

April O'Neil has posed:
For mooks that are supposed to be ninjas, there is every possibility that they're actually kids in costumes -- which is what some of them /literally/ are. It's part of what makes the whole Foot Clan thing so insidious in the first place. Some of these kids were just looking for a family and found the wrong one.

The sight of Casey Jones is not unimpressive... for anyone involved. For the Foot Soldiers specifically, however, it gives them pause when he's wielding two weapons and that mask, looking like something straight out of a horror movie. The fact that they hesitate probably says all Casey needs to know about them, too.

So, when he taunts, they charge -- one from the front, one from behind -- running top speed. And when he leaps out of the way, there's a *THUNK* of skulls like two dinosaurs butting heads.

Three down.

The boxes collapse under his weight, but they do break his fall. Sort of. It's hard to land on cardboard boxes.

By the time Casey's able to wheel on the last one, he has a shaky knife to April's throat.

Casey Jones has posed:
Four down. Casey was already nursing a sore shoulder, and that waste bin wasn't nearly as cushioned as he had hoped. Okay, not down, but dinged at least. Emerging from it, the crowbar appeared, and then the baseball bat, before finally, the mask of a wincing Casey Jones.

From his position in the bin, and having read the other two, he's already thinking this is just a kid. The knife shaking was serious, but also an opening. "Okay, first yer gonna remove that from her throat. Then yer gonna leave. And you know what, I ain't comin' after ya. And if that don't work for ya, I'm sure that ya seen Taken, you get me?"

April O'Neil has posed:
April presses her back up against that steel I-beam, head tilted back as far as it would go to avoid the knife pressed under her chin, though there wasn't much she could do about it. But it made it /so/ much worse that it was shaking. She could tell it was just a kid, too, but with her hands tied and the bandana working as a gag, there just wasn't anything she could /do/ about it.

So, she did the only thing she could do. She tried not to panic and focused on Casey.

That lone remaining soldier stared at the muscled man in the hockey mask, and it seems like it's almost possible to see those silver eye-sockets widen a little at the threat of violence... especially compared to the alternative. And his buddies were already unconscious.

A few tense seconds pass before the knife gets hastily thrown to the ground and the lone figure takes off running towards the darkened rear of the warehouse, giving April a chance to sag and sigh in relief.. even if she couldn't get herself free.

Casey Jones has posed:
Casey Jones finished climbing out of the dumpster. He was relieved. One, he didn't want to hurt a troubled kid. He used to be a troubled kid. Now he was a troubled adult... who acted like a kid. Okay, he was a big troubled kid. But the point was, he didn't have to hurt some poor kid.

He got his bag with him, which was easier said than done, as climbing in such a way not to send anything flying took a bit more care. But he got out, and went over to April, undoing the gag first, "hey, it's okay," his voice so familiar, and then the bandana, "don't worry, I'll have you free in a jiffy."

He went behind her, his hands touching hers and her forearms as he undid the restraints. Soon, she would be free, a bit shaken, but free. "Oh, and I got yer camera too," he began fishing for it from the pocket of his golf bag. Hopefully it didn't get ruined or dropped in a big hug or anything like that.

April O'Neil has posed:
"Casey!"

As soon as April could speak, the adrenaline made it sound like she was on some kind of drug.

"Thank you so much you have no idea I didn't think you'd come and I know I should have taken you up on your offer but I thought I had this under control and--"

A big hug is right! As soon as she's free, she's wheeling around and throwing herself up against him, wrapping her arms around his middle and burying her face against his chest.

"I can't believe you came..."

Of course, it probably wasn't the best idea to stick around, even if it was a touching moment, but April didn't seem to realize that, either.. at least, not at first.

Casey Jones has posed:
"There, there, it's okay, April, yer okay," he hugged her, held her, whispered in her ear, tried to sooth her. He was no counsellor, but he was a guy, and he knew that sometimes you just had to be there for someone who was calming down after an ordeal.

He held onto her camera, fortunately not having dropped or broken in, and in truth, he liked her holding him like that, hugging him so tight. "Of course I came, I try and help people, and besides, yer April. There ain't nothing that'd stop me coming fer you."

"We should, not that I'm complain', but we ought to get out o' here, before they wake up, or the other one brings friends."

They didn't have turtle backup right now. It was just them.

April O'Neil has posed:
You'd think that getting spontaneously kidnapped would have become more routine for April. You /might/ even think she'd learn to take more precautious and start to grow more hesitant about putting herself into questionable situations, but the flip side to that coin is... she was always okay (relatively speaking). For as many times as she's gotten into trouble, she's always gotten back out of it.

Granted, she usually had help, and she was grateful for that.

In her own way, April loved everyone in the Turtle family, including Casey Jones. This wasn't the first time he'd been there for her, and she knew it wouldn't be the last, even though she could be pretty stand-offish, at times, and absorbed in her own work. She was /so/ desperate to make her big break that everything else in her life seemed to take a back seat to reporting.

But not in that moment. In that moment, she reveled in the warmth of safety and familiarity. For as much as she might deny that attraction to Casey, it was most certainly there -- not just in the more primal, 'strong handsome man' kind of way, but also in the sense of the safety and security she felt when he was around.

"Thank you, Casey. You're amaz--"

But she seemed to realize it at the same time he did, and his words sent a shiver down her spine. She pulled away reluctantly, reaching out to take her phone from him and nodding hurriedly.

"We should go."

She smiled up at him, but then she was turning to jog towards the doors she'd been dragged through.