Gargoyles X TMNT: Shadows of New York

What Casey Does Best

The game was over fairly soon after that. It was another hour of embarrassment for New York, and the 49ers pushed forth through their defense like it was cardboard. As the game ended, Raphael melted into the darkness in the audience exit tunnel, quietly dropping down from the scaffolding well out of sight and joining the outbound crowd.

His brothers were overreacting. He didn't understand why it was such a big deal to them that they'd never mapped anything west of the Lincoln Tunnel. He was a ninja, they all were. Escape and evasion was something they could do in their sleep, and he was hardly an exception. Storm sewers were storm sewers; just keep following the line down its slope, and eventually you'd hit the river. It was easy.

He scoffed. If anything, tonight proved that they could blend in with humans if they had to. That game went two hours, and not a single human gave him a second glance, and he planned to treat tonight like the feather in his cap–er, mask–that it should be. He fooled a stadium of people. Even if his team lost tonight, he was practically high on that win. God, he loved being a ninja.

There was an upset in the crowd ahead of him, the rolling sea of human bodies rippling as a wave of people pushed him several steps back. There were gasps, laughs, jeers, and calls for whatever was ahead to 'Fight! Fight! Fight!' Someone was shouting 'WorldStar!!' Raph elbowed his way through the crowd before it became a crush. The sooner he could get around this fight, the better.

Oh, but curiosity is a bitch. Raph loved watching amateurs fight. It was like watching your little cousins pretend they were Jackie Chan and Bruce Lee, and then proceed to whack each other with pool noodles. To Raph, seeing the hilariously impotent slap-fest that came with most street brawls was pure, free serotonin. He couldn't help it. He had to see it.

Raph craned his neck to try and get a good look at who was beating the crap out of who. As soon as he saw it, he closed his eyes and growled under his breath with enormous exasperation. "Whyyy."

Of course it would be Casey Goddamn Jones.

-

The gargoyle's white hair fluttered in the faint southerly breeze as he looked out over the water. "Not good. We definitely don't have enough height or wind to make it over the river at this rate. And this is the tallest perch for at least a few miles. Any ideas?"

The cunning one chewed his lip. "I'm really not a fan of being on the ground, guys. Especially for miles of walking, with this many humans so close..." The blue one set his fingertips against his fangs, chewing on one of them with worry in his eyes.

The white-haired one grit his small, sharp teeth. "We... made a slight miscalculation here, didn't we?"

The broad one made a nervous noise. "If we wait here until the crowd clears–"

"–we might not get home by dawn." The olive brother finished. "I think we're in trouble."

The eldest put his claws in his hair, gritting his teeth and looking distraught. "Okay. We can work with this, the night's still young, and we're not stone yet. We just need to think. What would Goliath and his mate do?"

"Well..." The smallest sat down on the maintenance walk and crossed his legs, eyes closed in thought. "Let's think about what's around us. The humans need to get back to their carriages to make it back to their homes, right? And they can only stay on the roads, which are really well-lit."

"We need a map." The ruddy one thumped his fist into his palm, catching onto the idea. "If we can find a way to bypass the humans and avoid the carriage roads, we can stick to darker and quieter places until we can find somewhere to climb."

"I guess that's a plan." The largest one said, doubt tugging at his frown. "Did we bring a map from the castle?"

The cunning one fished around in his fanny pack. "I got the sports book, my notebook, a pen, aaand..." He pulled each of these out. "I don't believe it, this map is of Manhattan. It doesn't cover this area."