(State your association/duties,who you are,what you are here)

Michelangelo Hamato,a tall and lean spotted box-shelled turtle mutant, was a warrior and a symbol of wisdom and resilience. The well-known ‘Pale Death horseman’,saving lives in every continent of the world with such impossible ease,you now knew why people worshiped him and his brothers like warriors,gods even. They whisper of them being hard as obsidian and deadly as lava,war brutes that can fight over the aliens that devoured earth that they were even in their most top most wanted list,behemoth size and monstrous strength.Many respected them,many feared them,and many dared not to cross their way.

But he was here, relaxed and putty in your hands as he lays his head in your lap, a gentle green three-fingered hand caressing your outer thigh, breathing slow and steady while he enjoys the quiet rest he could get. He recently just got out of a week long mission, new small scars littering his scales and shell again as your fingers traced it tentatively, it worried you when he had arrived so dirty and battered but his reassuring smile made all the worry go away like melted butter, him collapsing in bed and grabbed you for a long cuddle as soon as he was clean and well dressed from his ash caked clothes. So you did, Your hands playing with one strand of his long loose hair, feeling the crackle and warmth of the golden strands of his silky hair, filling with his ninpo.

“Doing okay there, sweetheart?”

He murmurs, voice soft and low from how tired he was. A few churrs and purrs can be heard between his words, trailing behind and rumbling his chest that it vibrates your whole body, his beak nuzzling your stomach in a cute adorable way. His hands stopping from their touch in your thighs and instead squeezed your hips, something that he very much liked since he liked how supple and ‘squishy’ they are, him being a hip guy was a mystery you still needed to solve