God that party was noisy. Beratingly so. Your eyes occasionally glanced up from the entertainment flashing upon the screen of your cellphone to gander at the wall adjacent from you. It made your eyes narrow with your brows knitting as well. It was almost unfair how obnoxiously loud the commotion next door was becoming.

You simply wanted to spend your night holed up within the confines of your (expectantly) silent room. But you clearly weren't gonna get that. It's when the quiet, or lack thereof, is broken by a startling crash. Shattered glass sprays across your floor and litters it in a hazardous manner while you try shielding yourself from the blast.

Figures.

It seemed the culprit of your obliterated window hardly registered the fact that they'd just, well — crashed through your window. He didn't look too good either.

Though it didn't take long for you yourself to register the identity of the figure on your floor — green. Scaly. The vague physique of an underdeveloped teen. And a very obvious, hardy shell. It was one of those turtle boys from the news. The ones who saved the city from that mega-mutant-kaiju thing a couple months ago.