Turtles In The Roaring 20s

Chapter 1: First Day

New York, 1923

It was a cool spring evening in the big city. The sky was slowly changing from day to night. The electric lights began to glow from iron street lanterns and neon signs. Crowds of humans and mutants alike bustled as every building shined with advertising for the latest attractions or shows - beckoning to the crowds to venture inside and see what they have to offer.

Walking down one of these streets was a young woman. Her bright red hair flowed down to her freckled cheeks in small curls. Red wispy bangs gently touched her curled black eyelashes. She wore a faded yellow dress that stopped just past her knees. A white linen bow encircling the collar, draped onto her chest. She wore black heels with an ankle strap, and carried a black purse that matched her shoes.

The young lady stops in front of a building. Checking for a small entry staircase in the sidewalk, she looked at the bright golden sign to confirm her location.

"The Dojo." The sign glows with an arrow pointing down the staircase.

This was the place. The Dojo. The most famous jazz club in the city.

Stepping carefully, the glow from the sign barely illuminates her path. But she can make out the door at the bottom of the stairwell. It has a shiny coat of red lacquer paint. A sliding grille is cut into the door at eye level. She makes it to the entrance. She lifts her hand up, preparing herself to knock on the door. She takes a deep breath, "You can do this, O'Neil," the girl says to herself, "Make today count," and with that she knocks.

It takes a moment before she begins to hear heavy footsteps behind the door. The little sliding door opens and through the hole the young woman sees two bright dark green eyes, intimidatingly staring at her.

"We're not open till nine," a gravelly voice says behind the door.

"I-I'm aware," the girl says, "I'm April O'Neil. Mr. Hamato hired me last week and I am here for my first day."

The sliding door closes, the eyes vanished. It was quiet for a moment until the door finally opened, letting April inside.

April looks at the mutant who was guarding the door. He was a tall and rather intimidating looking mutant turtle, towering over her. The spikes on his shell were peeking out through his clothes. He wore black pants and vest with a white long sleeve collar shirt with the sleeves rolled up, along with a black tie.

"Thank you," she says to the bouncer.

"Next time use the back door. We don't want people thinking we're giving someone like you special treatment," the bouncer says with a grumble.

"Oh, okay. Sorry..." She says in an offended yet mostly embarrassed tone.

"Dumb Dora..." the bouncer mumbled to himself, just loud enough for April to hear his insult.

April enters the club and finds herself in a large room full of tables with chairs resting upside down on top of them. The Dojo was closed but it was getting set up for later tonight. Across the room was the stage, rather small but still big enough for the piano and other instruments. There was even enough room for the back-up singers to do their thing. A voluminous red velvet curtain draped behind. The floor was clear polished wood while the walls were black and gold with deco wallpaper. A classy place with a history of so many great performances.

"Red! Over here!" a voice shouts.

The girl looked over to her left, seeing an old friend behind the bar counter. A young man with slick black hair combed back neatly. He smiled at the girl as she approached the bar counter, showing her his clearly missing front tooth. He was wearing his work uniform, a clean white open collared shirt that was rolled up to his elbows. He wore black pants and a black vest to match. The red haired girl joined him at the bar and sat down on one of the stools by the counter.