Eternal Youth, Chapter 3
Ah, there we go. So much better. Glad I didn't care enough to work myself up over that.
Here's Chapter 3!
Chase Young awoke with a pounding headache and tongue that felt covered in fuzz. With a groan, the ancient warlord rolled onto his stomach and pulled a pillow over his head. The thought the the pillow seemed a lot bigger than usual flitted through his sleep-fogged mind. A moment later, Chase's golden eyes snapped open. This wasn't his bed.
The sheets were silk, certainly, but Chase had more taste than to have black silk bedsheets. Besides which, his sheets had at least twice the thread count of these off-the-shelf affairs. But important than the softness of the sheets was the scent. These sheets smelled of cheap soap, expensive shampoo, hot metal and motor oil. They smelled like Jack Spicer. The thought brought him out from under the covers with a shout. Chase wouldn't put it past the little pervert to have somehow drugged him and dragged him back to the Spicer estate for a romantic evening of date rape.
Chase first realized something wasn't right when he leapt to the floor and missed. What should have been a graceful landing turned into an awkward crash. The ancient warrior landed in a heap, trying to understand why his legs seemed two feet shorter than normal. Sitting up, Chase Young studied his small, stubby fingers in shock. The events of the previous day came back to him slowly and he groaned.
A Jack-Bot rose up from where it had been resting in the corner and approached him.
“Master Chase, is there anything you require?” The machine inquired.
Chase rubbed his head, getting his fingers tangled in his wild, messy hair. Pulling them out, he winced slightly. Somehow he doubted Spicer would have the kind of products he usually used on his mane.
“I'm taking a shower. Have hot tea, slices of fresh fruit, a cup of yogurt, and two slices of whole wheat toast ready when I emerge. Fetch me a fresh change of clothes as well.”
“Yes, sir,” The automaton dipped briefly in mockery of a bow, then flew out the door.
Chase entered Jack's attached bathroom and shed his clothing. He climbed into the shower, then paused as he contemplated the shampoo and conditioner, placed well above his head. After a moment's thought, Chase picked up the long-handled scrub brush from behind the faucet and knocked them down. Pleased with himself, he showered in peace. Chase was surprised by the quality of hair care products Jack used, but wasn't about to complain. Why would anyone waste such efforts on hair so short?
Chase's long hair had always been a source of considerable pride for the warrior. When most fighters shaved their heads or at least bound their long hair in tight braids, Chase had left his long and loose to boast of his skill.
'Look at all of this,' it would taunt opponents. 'It would make a perfect hand-hold, if you could just catch it. What? Oh, too slow. Better luck next time. Wait; there won't be a next time.'
Smirking at the memory of past victories, Chase climbed out and dried himself off. He left the towel where it fell; he couldn't reach the rail and wasn't going to bother to try. The Jack-Bot had left a change of clothes in a neat stack on the toilet seat, thankfully lowered. More blue jeans, a dark green shirt and a black hooded sweatshirt with a white skull screen printed on the chest.
Chase got dressed, then clambered up to sit on the edge of the sink so he could look in the mirror while he gingerly picked a comb through his hair. His golden eyes drifted across the various bottles and jars arranged on the sink.
Jack Spicer owned more sunblock than any one human being ever should. Chase didn't know they made SPF 70. No wonder the boy had skin like porcelain. Idly, the dragon lord opened the medicine cabinet and peered inside. Plenty of bandages and maximum strength painkillers, but the bottom shelf was filled with prescription bottles. Chase picked through them. He didn't recognize any of the medicine names, but Jack had written 'cheat notes' across the back of most of them. Again, the vast majority were devoted to skin care and sun block. Sighing, Chase shut the cabinet.
A red and white bottle on the shelf caught his eye. 'Magic Bullet' detangling spray. Well, it was worth a shot; Chase sprayed a generous amount into his hair. The next stroke of the comb passed effortlessly through the wild tangle.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The door to Jack's lair banged open as Chase Young put his Weeboks to good use. Spicer spun around, shoving his goggles back up around his hairline. Chase thrust the bottle towards the albino teen.
“Where do I find more of this miraculous spray?” The dragon lord demanded.
“Kicks ass, doesn't it? Use it for a few weeks and you forget what tangles are. It makes your hair so soft. Here; feel.” Jack bent down until his head was within reach of the toddler. Stubby fingers burrowed deep into the thick red strands.
“Oooo,” Chase cooed, obviously impressed.
“You can keep the bottle; I order it by the case from the States. Come here; I've got something to show you.” Jack stood and returned to the worktable. He fiddled with something out of Chase's sight for a minute.
“I know you don't want to admit it, Chase, but you're pretty helpless right now. But lucky for you, you've got Jack Spicer, Evil Boy Genius on your side! With options for every super-villain issue that could arise, all easily operated by toddler strength!” Jack held up a black and white and red object before thrusting in front of Chase. “Ta daa! You'd never guess it's weapon, would you?!”
Chase Young stared at the object held in front of him in silence. After a minute or so, he lifted his eyes to meet Spicer's.
“Have you lost what passes for you mind?” The dragon lord asked icily.
“What? It's disguised. . . nobody will know you're armed,” Jack protested weakly.
“Spicer-,” Chase snarled.
“Nobody will think twice about seeing a little kid carry this . . .”
“Spicer!”
“I worked on it all morning!”
“Absolutely not!”
“I call it-”
“I refuse!”
“The Jack-Bear!”
Jack held out a black and white teddy bear. The major color was black, with white on the stomach, paws and nose. The same mask design Jack wore on his helipack was embossed across the stomach and Chase couldn't help but notice that the button eyes were ruby red.
“It's a teddy bear!” Chase pointed out.
“It's the Jack-Bear. Look, it's armed to the teeth. It even has a built in phone so you can call me if you need to.” Jack pressed the bear's right ear. The soft inside of the ear flipped open to reveal a phone speaker. At the same time, the bear's mouth dropped open to reveal the receiver.
“If you think the mighty Chase Young is going to cuddle a teddy bear, then you are completely-” Chase was cut off abruptly as Jack dropped the toy into his arms. The shrunken lord staggered back under the weight of the bear. “It's heavy.”
“Of course it is. It has compressed gas canisters, a taser, the phone, a grappling hook, even a low grade laser that fires three round bursts. Uh . . . you might want to turn it around the other way.” Jack said, shuffling the bear around until it's stomach faced outwards.
“The attacks emerge from the stomach?” Chase groped a hand along the bear's body. There was some sort of button in the toy's right arm. Chase pressed it and a line shot out of the bear's paw, making Jack jump and squeal in alarm.
“Uh, y-yeah. There's a flap in the back of the head. Just put your hand in there and you'll feel buttons.” The albino youth carefully leaned out of the line of fire as he said this. “Please don't press them now or we'll have to evacuate the lab.”
“What are these straps?” Chase fingered two padded straps that emerged from the bear's neck.
“If he's too heavy, you can wear him like a backpack. It would also work to send out attacks while you're running away from something.”
“Chase Young does not run from anything,” Chase snapped.
“Of course not; you just popped in because you enjoy my company so much.” Jack snarked.
Chase had the decency to blush.
“What Shen-Gong-Wu do you possess?” He asked instead. As he spoke, Chase shifted his grip on Jack-Bear. He slipped his arm through one of the shoulder straps while still holding the devious creation in front of him.
“Way to change the subject,” Jack said, giving a few claps of mocking applause. “Right now I have the Lotus Twister and the Lasso Boaboa.”
“The two most pointless Shen-Gong-Wu in existence?” Chase clarified.
“Those would be the ones.”
“You shall need more.” The dragon lord declared. “We must have at least the Tongue of SaiPing to be able to communicate with my warriors. And you will keep Wuya busy while I access the Fountain of Wii to see how to reverse this spell.”
“Me? Tangle with Wuya?” Jack echoed, red eyes going wide.
“This is why you need more Wu. And better Wu.” Chase looked down at the back of Jack-Bear's head as he spoke, fiddling with the toy. He hoped Jack wouldn't throw Chase's earlier insistence that his help was unneeded back into his face. Chase had already eaten enough of his own words today.
“So you need me?!” Jack squealed, crouching down to Chase's level.
So much for that hope. Still, Jack wasn't gloating. The goth teen seemed completely delighted that the mighty Chase Young was depending on him. Unfortunately, he seemed to wish for it to be said directly.
Whatever fates were overseeing this farce seemed to think Chase had been humiliated enough for one sitting, however, as a shrill beeping noise interrupted.
“What is that?” Chase asked.
“My Shen-Gong-Wu detector.” Jack answered, straightening. He peered at a device on his wrist that Chase had taken for a large watch. “It senses when Shen-Gong-Wu go active and tells me where they are.”
“You built a machine that detects magic?” Chase echoed in disbelief.
“Sure. How did you think I was finding Wu after Wuya ran off?” Jack asked.
“I never considered it.” Chase admitted.
“Okay, so I go find this Wu, we get some more, then we go kick Wuya's butt out of your crib. You wanna come with?” Jack paced about his lair, gathering JackBots and his own useless Shen-Gong-Wu.
“I'd rather my greatest enemies not see me in such a state,” Chase admitted.
“Suit yourself.” Jack consulted his detector once more. “It's not too far; I'll just use the helipack. See ya later, Chase! Be good!”
“You aren't amusing!” Chase countered as the youth rose into the air. Jack muttered something unintelligible as he headed out through his aerial exit, followed by a dozen or so JackBots.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
After Jack was gone, Chase wandered back up to the main house. He ate the meal brought to him by the JackBots, indulged in some stretching and yoga, practiced a kata, and then relaxed in all around boredom. Chase was still dragging around Jack-Bear. Strangely, it felt good to wrap his arm around something. It felt even better to know that something was a weapon. Sighing, Chase considered calling Spicer and see what was taking so flaming long.
The television was on in the room where Nana Spicer and Jack had their Friday night. Chase perked. Perhaps there was more of that chocolate milk in the refrigerator.
“Nana Spicer?” Chase called, entering the room. There was no reply Chase headed towards the sofa. “Nana?”
“Oh, so sorry, Chase.” The door slammed shut behind him. Chase Young whirled to see Wuya leaning against the now closed door. “There's no Nana Spicer here, but maybe Auntie Wuya can keep you occupied.”
“How did you know where to find me?!” Chase demanded, backing away.
“Oh please; you really were too powerful for your own good.” Wuya sneered, stalking towards him. “Every Heylin knows that when you hit rock bottom, the one you turn to is Jack Spicer. He's the only person stupid enough to pair up with whatever garbage calls itself evil.”
“Is that why he spent so much time in your company?” Chase retorted, trying to circle around towards the door.
“Touche, Chase. But then, I'm back in my normal body and you're three feet tall and hugging a teddy bear.”
“I'm afraid you're mistaken,” Chase snapped. As Wuya lunged forward, he slipped his hand inside the flap on the sinister toy's head. “It's the Jack-Bear!”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“So what's this new Wu?” Kimiko asked, picking her way through a bamboo jungle.
“It's the Bottle of Xian Pu. It allows the user to suck up vast amounts of liquid and store it in a bottle no bigger than a soda can,” Dojo explained from his perch on Clay's hat. “Kind of like the Orb of Tornami in reverse.”
“The Bottle of Xian Pu? Dojo, honestly, where do they get these names?” Raimundo asked.
“Hey, Dashi named the Wu fifteen hundred years ago in Classical Chinese. How did he know they would end up as bad puns?” The dragon protested.
“It just seems to happen a lot, is all I'm saying.” Rai grumbled.
“Enough of this chatter-chitter!” Omi cried.
“'Chit-chat'” Clay corrected automatically.
“That too! We must find the Wu before some Heylin warrior appears.”
“Come on, Omi; Hannibal Bean's the only one we have to worry about snatching Shen-Gong-Wu.” Kimiko protested. “Chase hasn't let Wuya off of her leash to hunt Wu in ages and Spicer-well, when was the last time we actually had to worry if Jack Spicer showed up?”
“You can start worrying right now, baby!” A familiar voice cried. “Evil Boy Genius Jack Spicer is on the scene!”
Jack descended through the bamboo, the wind from his helipack sending loose leaves swirling around him like a visual cliché. A dozen JackBots followed their master.
“Don't call me 'baby', Spicer!” Kimiko snarled, cutting off Omi's usual challenge.
“Sorry, Kimi-chan! Maybe you'd prefer non-chichi?” Jack asked. He dropped out of his patented 'evil villain' stance to pat his chest while he mocked the Dragon of Fire in her native language.
“Tii bii esu desu-” Kimiko spluttered, trying to return the favor.
“Demo are totemo jozu na no yo!” Jack howled, circling his hips suggestively. “Ne?”
“Chikan!” The Dragon of Fire turned crimson.
“Hey! Stick to disses we can all understand!” Raimundo yelled.
“That's right! An' no more o' that ass-wigglin' in front of a lady!” Clay snapped, stepping in front of the still-traumatized Kimiko.
“Clay! You said a swear!” Omi gasped.
“Speaking of swears, Kimiko, thanks for not using 'okama'; you've got to be the first nihon-jin I ever got into a screaming match with that didn't call me a fag.” Jack said lightly.
“'Okama' means 'fag',” Raimundo muttered to himself, scribbling in a small notebook. “What was the first one you called her? 'No-chichi'? Y'know, in Spanish that means-”
“Raimundo! Don't you even go there!” Kimiko screamed, smoke starting to rise from the ends of her hair.
“Yeah, yeah, this is all fascinating,” Jack said, rolling his eyes. “But this . . . 'Bottle of Xian Pu'? Who comes up with these names?”
“See?!” Rai interjected.
“Okay, insert-clever-banter-here; this wu is mine. JackBots-”
“JAAAAAAAAAACCCKK!”
The piercing shriek echoed through the bamboo. For a moment everything stopped. A small sound, almost a sob, seemed to emanate from the goth genius's hip. Jack shoved his trench coat up to reveal a cell phone strapped to his belt, the call automatically patched through.
“Man I'm glad I didn't have my Blue Tooth on,” He muttered to no one in particular.
“Wuya's here!” The speaker was obviously a small child, sex indeterminable. “I used Jack-Bear, but she's still coming!!” The sound of an explosion echoed through the small speaker. “She's destroying the JackBots! I'm in the Lair but I-” The sentence was cut off in a brief scream of pain and fear.
Jack snatched the phone from it's holder, all thoughts of multi-lingual insults and Shen-Gong-Wu gone.
“Our Chase?! Hold on; I'm coming!” The albino teen looked over at the Xiaolin warriors. “I gotta go.”
The rotors shot out of Jack's helipack. Without a backwards glance, the evil genius took to the sky, the JackBots still tagging along behind him.
“Okay . . . . that was weird.” Dojo muttered.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Translation Key:
First of all, if I butchered the Japanese, just let me know. I'm still new to the language and I don't have all the nuances of grammar down yet.
Non-chichi: Flat-chested used almost exclusively by high school girls. It has a very catty intonation.
Tii bii esu desu-: This one's a little complicated. Tii bii esu or T.B.S. Is a term for 'ugly' that can be used for guys or girls. In boy form it would be Totemo Busaiku na Shonen - totally unpleasant boy. This first half of the sentence roughly translates to 'You are one ugly bastard'
Demo are totemo jozu na no yo: 'But I've got mad skills where it counts!'
Ne?: Y'know?
Chikan: Pervert, molester
Here's Chapter 3!
Chase Young awoke with a pounding headache and tongue that felt covered in fuzz. With a groan, the ancient warlord rolled onto his stomach and pulled a pillow over his head. The thought the the pillow seemed a lot bigger than usual flitted through his sleep-fogged mind. A moment later, Chase's golden eyes snapped open. This wasn't his bed.
The sheets were silk, certainly, but Chase had more taste than to have black silk bedsheets. Besides which, his sheets had at least twice the thread count of these off-the-shelf affairs. But important than the softness of the sheets was the scent. These sheets smelled of cheap soap, expensive shampoo, hot metal and motor oil. They smelled like Jack Spicer. The thought brought him out from under the covers with a shout. Chase wouldn't put it past the little pervert to have somehow drugged him and dragged him back to the Spicer estate for a romantic evening of date rape.
Chase first realized something wasn't right when he leapt to the floor and missed. What should have been a graceful landing turned into an awkward crash. The ancient warrior landed in a heap, trying to understand why his legs seemed two feet shorter than normal. Sitting up, Chase Young studied his small, stubby fingers in shock. The events of the previous day came back to him slowly and he groaned.
A Jack-Bot rose up from where it had been resting in the corner and approached him.
“Master Chase, is there anything you require?” The machine inquired.
Chase rubbed his head, getting his fingers tangled in his wild, messy hair. Pulling them out, he winced slightly. Somehow he doubted Spicer would have the kind of products he usually used on his mane.
“I'm taking a shower. Have hot tea, slices of fresh fruit, a cup of yogurt, and two slices of whole wheat toast ready when I emerge. Fetch me a fresh change of clothes as well.”
“Yes, sir,” The automaton dipped briefly in mockery of a bow, then flew out the door.
Chase entered Jack's attached bathroom and shed his clothing. He climbed into the shower, then paused as he contemplated the shampoo and conditioner, placed well above his head. After a moment's thought, Chase picked up the long-handled scrub brush from behind the faucet and knocked them down. Pleased with himself, he showered in peace. Chase was surprised by the quality of hair care products Jack used, but wasn't about to complain. Why would anyone waste such efforts on hair so short?
Chase's long hair had always been a source of considerable pride for the warrior. When most fighters shaved their heads or at least bound their long hair in tight braids, Chase had left his long and loose to boast of his skill.
'Look at all of this,' it would taunt opponents. 'It would make a perfect hand-hold, if you could just catch it. What? Oh, too slow. Better luck next time. Wait; there won't be a next time.'
Smirking at the memory of past victories, Chase climbed out and dried himself off. He left the towel where it fell; he couldn't reach the rail and wasn't going to bother to try. The Jack-Bot had left a change of clothes in a neat stack on the toilet seat, thankfully lowered. More blue jeans, a dark green shirt and a black hooded sweatshirt with a white skull screen printed on the chest.
Chase got dressed, then clambered up to sit on the edge of the sink so he could look in the mirror while he gingerly picked a comb through his hair. His golden eyes drifted across the various bottles and jars arranged on the sink.
Jack Spicer owned more sunblock than any one human being ever should. Chase didn't know they made SPF 70. No wonder the boy had skin like porcelain. Idly, the dragon lord opened the medicine cabinet and peered inside. Plenty of bandages and maximum strength painkillers, but the bottom shelf was filled with prescription bottles. Chase picked through them. He didn't recognize any of the medicine names, but Jack had written 'cheat notes' across the back of most of them. Again, the vast majority were devoted to skin care and sun block. Sighing, Chase shut the cabinet.
A red and white bottle on the shelf caught his eye. 'Magic Bullet' detangling spray. Well, it was worth a shot; Chase sprayed a generous amount into his hair. The next stroke of the comb passed effortlessly through the wild tangle.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The door to Jack's lair banged open as Chase Young put his Weeboks to good use. Spicer spun around, shoving his goggles back up around his hairline. Chase thrust the bottle towards the albino teen.
“Where do I find more of this miraculous spray?” The dragon lord demanded.
“Kicks ass, doesn't it? Use it for a few weeks and you forget what tangles are. It makes your hair so soft. Here; feel.” Jack bent down until his head was within reach of the toddler. Stubby fingers burrowed deep into the thick red strands.
“Oooo,” Chase cooed, obviously impressed.
“You can keep the bottle; I order it by the case from the States. Come here; I've got something to show you.” Jack stood and returned to the worktable. He fiddled with something out of Chase's sight for a minute.
“I know you don't want to admit it, Chase, but you're pretty helpless right now. But lucky for you, you've got Jack Spicer, Evil Boy Genius on your side! With options for every super-villain issue that could arise, all easily operated by toddler strength!” Jack held up a black and white and red object before thrusting in front of Chase. “Ta daa! You'd never guess it's weapon, would you?!”
Chase Young stared at the object held in front of him in silence. After a minute or so, he lifted his eyes to meet Spicer's.
“Have you lost what passes for you mind?” The dragon lord asked icily.
“What? It's disguised. . . nobody will know you're armed,” Jack protested weakly.
“Spicer-,” Chase snarled.
“Nobody will think twice about seeing a little kid carry this . . .”
“Spicer!”
“I worked on it all morning!”
“Absolutely not!”
“I call it-”
“I refuse!”
“The Jack-Bear!”
Jack held out a black and white teddy bear. The major color was black, with white on the stomach, paws and nose. The same mask design Jack wore on his helipack was embossed across the stomach and Chase couldn't help but notice that the button eyes were ruby red.
“It's a teddy bear!” Chase pointed out.
“It's the Jack-Bear. Look, it's armed to the teeth. It even has a built in phone so you can call me if you need to.” Jack pressed the bear's right ear. The soft inside of the ear flipped open to reveal a phone speaker. At the same time, the bear's mouth dropped open to reveal the receiver.
“If you think the mighty Chase Young is going to cuddle a teddy bear, then you are completely-” Chase was cut off abruptly as Jack dropped the toy into his arms. The shrunken lord staggered back under the weight of the bear. “It's heavy.”
“Of course it is. It has compressed gas canisters, a taser, the phone, a grappling hook, even a low grade laser that fires three round bursts. Uh . . . you might want to turn it around the other way.” Jack said, shuffling the bear around until it's stomach faced outwards.
“The attacks emerge from the stomach?” Chase groped a hand along the bear's body. There was some sort of button in the toy's right arm. Chase pressed it and a line shot out of the bear's paw, making Jack jump and squeal in alarm.
“Uh, y-yeah. There's a flap in the back of the head. Just put your hand in there and you'll feel buttons.” The albino youth carefully leaned out of the line of fire as he said this. “Please don't press them now or we'll have to evacuate the lab.”
“What are these straps?” Chase fingered two padded straps that emerged from the bear's neck.
“If he's too heavy, you can wear him like a backpack. It would also work to send out attacks while you're running away from something.”
“Chase Young does not run from anything,” Chase snapped.
“Of course not; you just popped in because you enjoy my company so much.” Jack snarked.
Chase had the decency to blush.
“What Shen-Gong-Wu do you possess?” He asked instead. As he spoke, Chase shifted his grip on Jack-Bear. He slipped his arm through one of the shoulder straps while still holding the devious creation in front of him.
“Way to change the subject,” Jack said, giving a few claps of mocking applause. “Right now I have the Lotus Twister and the Lasso Boaboa.”
“The two most pointless Shen-Gong-Wu in existence?” Chase clarified.
“Those would be the ones.”
“You shall need more.” The dragon lord declared. “We must have at least the Tongue of SaiPing to be able to communicate with my warriors. And you will keep Wuya busy while I access the Fountain of Wii to see how to reverse this spell.”
“Me? Tangle with Wuya?” Jack echoed, red eyes going wide.
“This is why you need more Wu. And better Wu.” Chase looked down at the back of Jack-Bear's head as he spoke, fiddling with the toy. He hoped Jack wouldn't throw Chase's earlier insistence that his help was unneeded back into his face. Chase had already eaten enough of his own words today.
“So you need me?!” Jack squealed, crouching down to Chase's level.
So much for that hope. Still, Jack wasn't gloating. The goth teen seemed completely delighted that the mighty Chase Young was depending on him. Unfortunately, he seemed to wish for it to be said directly.
Whatever fates were overseeing this farce seemed to think Chase had been humiliated enough for one sitting, however, as a shrill beeping noise interrupted.
“What is that?” Chase asked.
“My Shen-Gong-Wu detector.” Jack answered, straightening. He peered at a device on his wrist that Chase had taken for a large watch. “It senses when Shen-Gong-Wu go active and tells me where they are.”
“You built a machine that detects magic?” Chase echoed in disbelief.
“Sure. How did you think I was finding Wu after Wuya ran off?” Jack asked.
“I never considered it.” Chase admitted.
“Okay, so I go find this Wu, we get some more, then we go kick Wuya's butt out of your crib. You wanna come with?” Jack paced about his lair, gathering JackBots and his own useless Shen-Gong-Wu.
“I'd rather my greatest enemies not see me in such a state,” Chase admitted.
“Suit yourself.” Jack consulted his detector once more. “It's not too far; I'll just use the helipack. See ya later, Chase! Be good!”
“You aren't amusing!” Chase countered as the youth rose into the air. Jack muttered something unintelligible as he headed out through his aerial exit, followed by a dozen or so JackBots.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
After Jack was gone, Chase wandered back up to the main house. He ate the meal brought to him by the JackBots, indulged in some stretching and yoga, practiced a kata, and then relaxed in all around boredom. Chase was still dragging around Jack-Bear. Strangely, it felt good to wrap his arm around something. It felt even better to know that something was a weapon. Sighing, Chase considered calling Spicer and see what was taking so flaming long.
The television was on in the room where Nana Spicer and Jack had their Friday night. Chase perked. Perhaps there was more of that chocolate milk in the refrigerator.
“Nana Spicer?” Chase called, entering the room. There was no reply Chase headed towards the sofa. “Nana?”
“Oh, so sorry, Chase.” The door slammed shut behind him. Chase Young whirled to see Wuya leaning against the now closed door. “There's no Nana Spicer here, but maybe Auntie Wuya can keep you occupied.”
“How did you know where to find me?!” Chase demanded, backing away.
“Oh please; you really were too powerful for your own good.” Wuya sneered, stalking towards him. “Every Heylin knows that when you hit rock bottom, the one you turn to is Jack Spicer. He's the only person stupid enough to pair up with whatever garbage calls itself evil.”
“Is that why he spent so much time in your company?” Chase retorted, trying to circle around towards the door.
“Touche, Chase. But then, I'm back in my normal body and you're three feet tall and hugging a teddy bear.”
“I'm afraid you're mistaken,” Chase snapped. As Wuya lunged forward, he slipped his hand inside the flap on the sinister toy's head. “It's the Jack-Bear!”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
“So what's this new Wu?” Kimiko asked, picking her way through a bamboo jungle.
“It's the Bottle of Xian Pu. It allows the user to suck up vast amounts of liquid and store it in a bottle no bigger than a soda can,” Dojo explained from his perch on Clay's hat. “Kind of like the Orb of Tornami in reverse.”
“The Bottle of Xian Pu? Dojo, honestly, where do they get these names?” Raimundo asked.
“Hey, Dashi named the Wu fifteen hundred years ago in Classical Chinese. How did he know they would end up as bad puns?” The dragon protested.
“It just seems to happen a lot, is all I'm saying.” Rai grumbled.
“Enough of this chatter-chitter!” Omi cried.
“'Chit-chat'” Clay corrected automatically.
“That too! We must find the Wu before some Heylin warrior appears.”
“Come on, Omi; Hannibal Bean's the only one we have to worry about snatching Shen-Gong-Wu.” Kimiko protested. “Chase hasn't let Wuya off of her leash to hunt Wu in ages and Spicer-well, when was the last time we actually had to worry if Jack Spicer showed up?”
“You can start worrying right now, baby!” A familiar voice cried. “Evil Boy Genius Jack Spicer is on the scene!”
Jack descended through the bamboo, the wind from his helipack sending loose leaves swirling around him like a visual cliché. A dozen JackBots followed their master.
“Don't call me 'baby', Spicer!” Kimiko snarled, cutting off Omi's usual challenge.
“Sorry, Kimi-chan! Maybe you'd prefer non-chichi?” Jack asked. He dropped out of his patented 'evil villain' stance to pat his chest while he mocked the Dragon of Fire in her native language.
“Tii bii esu desu-” Kimiko spluttered, trying to return the favor.
“Demo are totemo jozu na no yo!” Jack howled, circling his hips suggestively. “Ne?”
“Chikan!” The Dragon of Fire turned crimson.
“Hey! Stick to disses we can all understand!” Raimundo yelled.
“That's right! An' no more o' that ass-wigglin' in front of a lady!” Clay snapped, stepping in front of the still-traumatized Kimiko.
“Clay! You said a swear!” Omi gasped.
“Speaking of swears, Kimiko, thanks for not using 'okama'; you've got to be the first nihon-jin I ever got into a screaming match with that didn't call me a fag.” Jack said lightly.
“'Okama' means 'fag',” Raimundo muttered to himself, scribbling in a small notebook. “What was the first one you called her? 'No-chichi'? Y'know, in Spanish that means-”
“Raimundo! Don't you even go there!” Kimiko screamed, smoke starting to rise from the ends of her hair.
“Yeah, yeah, this is all fascinating,” Jack said, rolling his eyes. “But this . . . 'Bottle of Xian Pu'? Who comes up with these names?”
“See?!” Rai interjected.
“Okay, insert-clever-banter-here; this wu is mine. JackBots-”
“JAAAAAAAAAACCCKK!”
The piercing shriek echoed through the bamboo. For a moment everything stopped. A small sound, almost a sob, seemed to emanate from the goth genius's hip. Jack shoved his trench coat up to reveal a cell phone strapped to his belt, the call automatically patched through.
“Man I'm glad I didn't have my Blue Tooth on,” He muttered to no one in particular.
“Wuya's here!” The speaker was obviously a small child, sex indeterminable. “I used Jack-Bear, but she's still coming!!” The sound of an explosion echoed through the small speaker. “She's destroying the JackBots! I'm in the Lair but I-” The sentence was cut off in a brief scream of pain and fear.
Jack snatched the phone from it's holder, all thoughts of multi-lingual insults and Shen-Gong-Wu gone.
“Our Chase?! Hold on; I'm coming!” The albino teen looked over at the Xiaolin warriors. “I gotta go.”
The rotors shot out of Jack's helipack. Without a backwards glance, the evil genius took to the sky, the JackBots still tagging along behind him.
“Okay . . . . that was weird.” Dojo muttered.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Translation Key:
First of all, if I butchered the Japanese, just let me know. I'm still new to the language and I don't have all the nuances of grammar down yet.
Non-chichi: Flat-chested used almost exclusively by high school girls. It has a very catty intonation.
Tii bii esu desu-: This one's a little complicated. Tii bii esu or T.B.S. Is a term for 'ugly' that can be used for guys or girls. In boy form it would be Totemo Busaiku na Shonen - totally unpleasant boy. This first half of the sentence roughly translates to 'You are one ugly bastard'
Demo are totemo jozu na no yo: 'But I've got mad skills where it counts!'
Ne?: Y'know?
Chikan: Pervert, molester