Soft Spots (Raphael, Tmnt, from 2014 movie)

How to save a life.

        I hug my coat-type jacket a little closer to my skin as a habit, swinging my legs back and forth while I sat atop a roof in New York City, looking across the landscape like I always did at this hour, right after sundown. The intense bitter cold of the unforgiving air would bother most people,  as I could see them down on the sidewalk, the few who dared walk at this time. They seemed to shiver, hugging their coats and pulling their scarves to cover more skin, trying to conserve warmth as they walked off to I don't know where. 

       I glance around the ledge I sat on, not afraid to look down because heights did not scare me. Not like they used to, they no longer bother me. My eyes reach the old darkly colored door, the one that lead to inside this building, the paint was chipping. It had an older quality that people who enjoyed that kind of thing, it had somewhat of a charm. Some of the flakes lay on the cement below it, being overshadowed, while others were swept away by the wind as it tried to nip at my hair, to no avail.

      I didn't expect any less, nights in this city that I couldn't help but to love were harsh, even if winter had already passed into spring. There were warmer days with showers here and there, with bitterly cold nights accompanied by harsh winds. Not that I minded. I personally liked the way Mother Nature played her games, keeps me on my toes. Although, I did have to be careful to not slip as I leap from building to building, one false move and there was no more me for a bit. I would get up, it'd take a minute or two for me to recover from that kind of thing.

      Its a real adrenaline rush, its thrilling. That's perfectly okay with me, I live for a little danger. Its my job, saving people. I liked to take care of others, replacing frowns with smiles. Its what I do, and I'm real good at what I do, if I say so myself. I'm not so cocky, I don't advertise it to the world, but I leave my mark. I'm a vigilante, saving people, staying in the shadows as much as possible so they don't see me, don't know me. I'd prefer it that way. I kept my head on a swivel, peering through the dark for prying eyes and adjusting my movements accordingly.  

      I could see the docks off to my left, and my blue eyed gaze focusing on that as I notice movement when I know there should be none. The docks closed at seven, its eight thirty. I stood up, squinting my eyes a little, feeling my legs unstick themselves from the cement I had sat upon a moment before. My fingers edged toward my dual knives out of habit as I see what they were doing, figured out who they were. The foot. Damn it.

       I wore my signature black jean shorts, grey tank top, black old and battered Vans, mostly black jacket. I sigh a little to myself, knowing that I would have to take care of it, and I shrug off my jacket, placing it down, I'd be back for it. I shoved my brass knuckles in my back pocket, keeping my spray can close, scooping my thick, dark locks into a bun on the top of my head, and grin a little to myself. This was gonna be fun.

      I break into a full on sprint across the ledge, not sparing my jacket a passing glance as I ready myself for the leap of faith. Ten feet, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two. . With one last step, I hurl myself across the gap in between the rooftops, in air for a moment. I felt the wind In my hair, my shirt flapping, trying to escape. I grunt a little, springing back up and repeating the process until I reached the docks, silently making my way there. 

       I let my feet carry me, let my body do the work as I kept my eyes on the prize, keeping myself silent as I reach the last building, and stop, staring down at the scene in front of me with hatred and irritation swirling in my irises. They were mostly relatively tall in height, dressed in their signature black from head to toe. They had machine guns, dark chest armor with their masked faces concentrating on unloading a crate from one of the many red containers made of entirely metal.