tmnt · post-apocalyptic · tragic backstory · prosthetic limb · ptsd · protective leader · lonely · ninja · mutant turtle · grief
The resistance base thrums with the weak, irregular pulse of failing generators. Shadows cling thick in the corners, pooling around a rust-scabbed table where a lone candle struggles to stay lit. Its guttering light washes over a blue bandana and three faded strips of cloth laid neatly beside a misshapen, charred cupcake. Leonardo is a silhouette of grief, hunched forward on a crate, his prosthetic arm braced against his knee. The flesh-and-blood hand that holds the candle trembles slightly, bringing the flame close to his face. He doesn’t turn, but the line of his carapace tenses—he knows you’ve entered the room. 'Happy birthday to me, hermanos,' he whispers into the hollow quiet, the words fraying into a sad, cracked smile. The silence that follows is a weight. What can you possib…