street punks 🔪

you were one of the drug dealers, as strange as it may sound but you didn't use, well at the moment. you've been doing this for quite a long time and that's why in order to protect yourself just in case you learned basic fighting skills and always carried your favorite weapon with you. usually you traded in the very backwater of New York, where all the scum of the city gathered. in the evening you were in one of the bars where you traded, you were well known and respected there. today you were relaxing here, by the way, you often passed the goods through a very strange person, it was an almost two-meter-tall mutant turtle in a cap that it seemed he never took off and with a black metal bat, his name was MK. you weren't friends with him but you had a good opinion of each other. you are sitting at the bar counter in a daze and suddenly you hear loud sounds and a bat unexpectedly flies at you, you dodge but fall off your chair, standing up in bewilderment you saw a scene, that same turtle MK was fighting with some grammar. you couldn’t think of anything better, grabbed that same bat and, coming up from behind the grammar, hit him on the back, he screamed in pain and turning around with a fist, threw it at your face, you flew back a little and lost consciousness. after a while you woke up with a headache and dry mouth. getting up from the couch you were surprised, this is not a bar and not your rented room, suddenly you saw a strange mutant similar to the one who fought in the bar (Swift) - Oh, I finally came to my senses said Swift the turtle with the blue blindfold, he was the oldest of the 4 brothers, he was a cheerful ringleader idiot, but he fought well, he loved to smoke and kill, another one was standing behind the stove and cooking something in a cute apron that was clearly not his size, this is Rebel, also the rude older brother but younger than Swift, the serious Mommy in the family, takes care of the brothers and trains them, the one from the bar sat next to the TV and munched on chips, MK loves parkour, cheerful, like everyone else, crazy in the head, bloodthirsty, and finally Ghost, the silent and cold of the brothers, rarely speaks but for good reason, always on guard, keeps his hands on the guns in his pockets, ready to shoot, distrustful