Delinquent -- Power Rangers Mystic Force
Title: Delinquent
Fandom: Power Rangers Mystic Force
Word Count: 1576
Rating: R (for excessive drug use)
Summary: Every so often there was the rogue, the anti-hero, the good soul with a veneer of dirt.
A/N: Let's all look at me destroy the naivety! My friends do it with the SWAT and the pr0n, I'll do it with the drugs. XD. PS: Chip and Xander are a lot of fun to write.
Time after time those fanatical minds try to rule all the world
Telling us all it's them who's in charge of it all
I've got a tricked out magic stick that will make them all fall
We've got the power now, motherfuckers; that's where it belongs
The Flaming Lips - W.A.N.D.
Those who were chosen to hold the Power were often paragons of the community, the shining examples that frustrated parents held their delinquent children up to. They were the all-star football players that volunteered in soup kitchens, the valedictorians who joined the Peace Corps right out of school, the trusted babysitters, and the eternally law-abiding. Every now and then there was the rogue, the anti-hero, the good soul with a veneer of dirt, sometimes breaking the rules but always for the greater cause.
The Power chose only those imbued with the light of goodness and generosity shining, whether anyone was aware of it in the beginning or not, for it took the most selfless of humans to sacrifice so much for the faceless masses.
Which is why the few rogues, the few noble beings that didn’t follow the beaten path, were so jarring in comparison.
“Dude, don’t be such a weed-hog.”
The two living examples of this were currently sitting, feet dancing over the edge like small children, perched atop one of the top branches of Rootcore.
“I’m not hogging it! Your time sense is just fucked up, Thunderbolt.” Xander lazily brought the joint up to his mouth again, sucking in air and then blowing out smoke in a delayed, practiced motion. After passing the unlit end to Chip, who pinched the smoking, rolled paper with caution, Xander leaned back and swung his feet with abandon.
“Thanks a lot, Pinesol! Your confidence in me is astounding.” drawled the caped hero, taking a smooth, deep drag on the joint. The two sat in companionable silence, utterly familiar with the smooth ritual common to thousands of teens. The joint exchanged hands, accompanied by the occasional hacking cough or clicking of a lighter, the teens completely at ease with each other and the universe.
“You know… humans can be really stubborn sometimes.”
The contemplative words were absorbed by the myriad leaves around them, but not before their content roused an interested Chip from his lax state. “You’re not harping on how blind Nick is again, are you? Because then you’re just being painfully human yourself.”
Xander smoothly blew the ashes off the end of the cigarette, watching the embers glow briefly with the fascination of long acquaintance. “I suppose I could rant about that again. That blockhead wouldn’t recognize shit if it was in a flaming bag on his front porch. But I was actually thinking more about our classmates, parents, etcetera.”
Carefully removing the slowly shrinking, hand-rolled paper from his best friend’s hand, Chip blinked quizzically at Xander. “How so? I hate to tell you this, Jungleboy, but you’re a popular kid. Everyone listens to what you have to say; how are they being stubborn?”
“Okay, so maybe stubborn was the wrong word for the job. I was trying to get across that I don’t understand how the fine people of Briarwood can be so bloody oblivious to all of this!” Xander gestured wildly between him and Chip, unbalancing himself in the process and having to snatch at the branch to keep from falling over. The yellow clad teen was suddenly glad that he was the one inhaling from the joint; Xander might’ve flung it off somewhere never to be seen again. It’s not often that the two got their hands on dro, after all.
“You’re not talking about the ganj, are you?” The smoke curled out of Chip’s mouth as he spoke; it drifted upwards, seeming to caress his face in a lazy motion.
Xander eyed Chip musingly. “No, but that’s another good point. Why is marijuana the demon child of promiscuity while alcohol gets off scot free? Why should you and I get ostracized for wanting to smoke a bowl instead of getting so drunk we wake up next to an ugly chick? Weed has so many good uses!”
“Ignoring the start of your infamous rant, how are your ribs? You took a pretty nasty kick there earlier, and I saw your face when you sat down; they’ve gotta be cracked, at least.” Chip reached over and prodded Xander’s side, not noticing when the glowing ember of the quickly dwindling joint came close to his arm.
“Ouch, that hurt, you Thunderchicken! They’re just bruised, for your bloody information, and the dro is working as a rather excellent painkiller. Now pass that shit before you add burns to my bruises.” Xander swatted Chip’s hand away semi-playfully, and brought the paper up to his mouth calmly.
“That’s better… now, what was I bantering about, again?”
“Now who’s fucked up, eh, Bulbasaur? Can’t even remember what you said five minutes ago, ha!” Chip grinned at Xander in triumph, knowing that he was totally right.
Xander glared half-heartedly at Chip. “You know that was quite possibly the most dorky thing you have said all night, right? I mean, seriously, comparing me to a silly little monster. I am not a monster, nor am I little.” Grinning in amusement, Chip and Xander fumbled for a minute to pass the now miniscule roach without burning themselves, quite a task at the best of times, but blazed out of their minds, much harder.
“So you’re silly, then?”
“Whatever. Seriously, though, I was having a revelation moment; what was I talking about?”
Chip peered lazily at his companion’s face, wondering when exactly the moment they’d committed to getting stoned out of their minds had happened. Had it been earlier, when that stupid monster had thrown Xander through a wall? Or had it come about just because the time was right? Or was it because… “Dude I think you were about to tell me all about the mad crush you’ve got on Vida.”
“Pikachu, I’m an Earth type. I can crush you if you bring that bloody nonsense up again. Besides, everyone knows you and I were doing it in the cartoon.” Xander stubbed out the last remaining embers and reached for the bag to toss the roach in. Dro was not to be wasted; they’d empty the roach into a bowl when they started coming down.
Unfortunately, Xander was much farther gone than he thought and reached several inches to the left. Chip giggled helplessly, and kicked the bag closer to the errant hand.
“Flower Child, everyone thinks you and I are doing it. As in that chick that turned you down in biology yesterday? Told me you were trying to cheat on me. How hilarious is THAT!” And Chip was lost. Utterly, utterly lost. There was no coming back from these giggles.
Blinking slowly, Xander stared at Chip. And stared. And then for good measure, he gave Chip the fishbowl eyes. “Wait. Tina turned me down because she thinks I like the surprise buttsecks?!”
Holding his sides, Chip nodded helplessly, tears streaming from his eyes. The look on his purported lover’s face was beyond measure. Seriously. On a scale of Arnold Schwarzenegger in Total Recall to Harrison Ford in Blade Runner, Xander’s face ranked around Bruce Campbell - downright over the top!
“What the fuck is she on about? Just ‘cause I call you ‘Energizer Bunny’ every other sentence is no reason to think we’re rubbing pork swords!”
At this metaphor, Chip broke out into an uproarious cackle. In disgust, Xander practically threw the bag at his supposed friend, and crossed his arms in a huff.
“Seriously, how blind can people be? First it was “Oh, Xander honey, we can’t date you because you’re just after snookie” and now its “Oh, Xander, stop trying to cheat on your hunk of manmeat because you don’t deserve him”. It’s like fucking school and my parents all over again. “Oh, Mr. Bly, you have so much potential that you choose not to live up to” or “Oh, Xander, you used to be such an obedient child and now you’re out at all times of the night with those boys”. I am so. Fucking. Sick. And TIRED of people making up SHIT!“
Xander’s mocking tone had escalated until he was almost screaming, and the last word flew out of his mouth, leaving him panting in a sort of release. An arm settled around his shoulders, and Chip stared seriously at his friend.
“I know, dude. But we can’t change it, y’know? People think what they will, regardless of how often the truth is shoved in their faces. It’s why so many relationships fail. And you think I like being told to fuck off cuz I’m nothing but a wimpy dork? All you can do is sit back and enjoy the ride, smell the flowers, soak in the bubble bath. Lime, we’ve got magic. We’ve got weed. And if neither of those gives you tingles, there’s always me calling you a pussy until you master the vert ramp.”
Xander sighed deeply, and raised his eyes to the clouds. “I think you may have something there, Lemonade. The magic may be a bitch to master, and I may turn a billion more pencils into mini-trees accidentally before I do, but there’s nothing like it rushing through my veins. I know why so many people have hero complexes; kicking ass and taking names gives good tingles. And let it never be said I don’t appreciate the finer herbs in life. Let’s fuck the system, shut up the idiots, rage against the machine, and all that jazz. C’mon, dude, we’ve got music to enjoy with our enhanced senses.”
Chip slapped Xander on the back, peaceably, agreeably. “Damn straight. I feel like some Floyd, myself…”
Fandom: Power Rangers Mystic Force
Word Count: 1576
Rating: R (for excessive drug use)
Summary: Every so often there was the rogue, the anti-hero, the good soul with a veneer of dirt.
A/N: Let's all look at me destroy the naivety! My friends do it with the SWAT and the pr0n, I'll do it with the drugs. XD. PS: Chip and Xander are a lot of fun to write.
Time after time those fanatical minds try to rule all the world
Telling us all it's them who's in charge of it all
I've got a tricked out magic stick that will make them all fall
We've got the power now, motherfuckers; that's where it belongs
The Flaming Lips - W.A.N.D.
Those who were chosen to hold the Power were often paragons of the community, the shining examples that frustrated parents held their delinquent children up to. They were the all-star football players that volunteered in soup kitchens, the valedictorians who joined the Peace Corps right out of school, the trusted babysitters, and the eternally law-abiding. Every now and then there was the rogue, the anti-hero, the good soul with a veneer of dirt, sometimes breaking the rules but always for the greater cause.
The Power chose only those imbued with the light of goodness and generosity shining, whether anyone was aware of it in the beginning or not, for it took the most selfless of humans to sacrifice so much for the faceless masses.
Which is why the few rogues, the few noble beings that didn’t follow the beaten path, were so jarring in comparison.
“Dude, don’t be such a weed-hog.”
The two living examples of this were currently sitting, feet dancing over the edge like small children, perched atop one of the top branches of Rootcore.
“I’m not hogging it! Your time sense is just fucked up, Thunderbolt.” Xander lazily brought the joint up to his mouth again, sucking in air and then blowing out smoke in a delayed, practiced motion. After passing the unlit end to Chip, who pinched the smoking, rolled paper with caution, Xander leaned back and swung his feet with abandon.
“Thanks a lot, Pinesol! Your confidence in me is astounding.” drawled the caped hero, taking a smooth, deep drag on the joint. The two sat in companionable silence, utterly familiar with the smooth ritual common to thousands of teens. The joint exchanged hands, accompanied by the occasional hacking cough or clicking of a lighter, the teens completely at ease with each other and the universe.
“You know… humans can be really stubborn sometimes.”
The contemplative words were absorbed by the myriad leaves around them, but not before their content roused an interested Chip from his lax state. “You’re not harping on how blind Nick is again, are you? Because then you’re just being painfully human yourself.”
Xander smoothly blew the ashes off the end of the cigarette, watching the embers glow briefly with the fascination of long acquaintance. “I suppose I could rant about that again. That blockhead wouldn’t recognize shit if it was in a flaming bag on his front porch. But I was actually thinking more about our classmates, parents, etcetera.”
Carefully removing the slowly shrinking, hand-rolled paper from his best friend’s hand, Chip blinked quizzically at Xander. “How so? I hate to tell you this, Jungleboy, but you’re a popular kid. Everyone listens to what you have to say; how are they being stubborn?”
“Okay, so maybe stubborn was the wrong word for the job. I was trying to get across that I don’t understand how the fine people of Briarwood can be so bloody oblivious to all of this!” Xander gestured wildly between him and Chip, unbalancing himself in the process and having to snatch at the branch to keep from falling over. The yellow clad teen was suddenly glad that he was the one inhaling from the joint; Xander might’ve flung it off somewhere never to be seen again. It’s not often that the two got their hands on dro, after all.
“You’re not talking about the ganj, are you?” The smoke curled out of Chip’s mouth as he spoke; it drifted upwards, seeming to caress his face in a lazy motion.
Xander eyed Chip musingly. “No, but that’s another good point. Why is marijuana the demon child of promiscuity while alcohol gets off scot free? Why should you and I get ostracized for wanting to smoke a bowl instead of getting so drunk we wake up next to an ugly chick? Weed has so many good uses!”
“Ignoring the start of your infamous rant, how are your ribs? You took a pretty nasty kick there earlier, and I saw your face when you sat down; they’ve gotta be cracked, at least.” Chip reached over and prodded Xander’s side, not noticing when the glowing ember of the quickly dwindling joint came close to his arm.
“Ouch, that hurt, you Thunderchicken! They’re just bruised, for your bloody information, and the dro is working as a rather excellent painkiller. Now pass that shit before you add burns to my bruises.” Xander swatted Chip’s hand away semi-playfully, and brought the paper up to his mouth calmly.
“That’s better… now, what was I bantering about, again?”
“Now who’s fucked up, eh, Bulbasaur? Can’t even remember what you said five minutes ago, ha!” Chip grinned at Xander in triumph, knowing that he was totally right.
Xander glared half-heartedly at Chip. “You know that was quite possibly the most dorky thing you have said all night, right? I mean, seriously, comparing me to a silly little monster. I am not a monster, nor am I little.” Grinning in amusement, Chip and Xander fumbled for a minute to pass the now miniscule roach without burning themselves, quite a task at the best of times, but blazed out of their minds, much harder.
“So you’re silly, then?”
“Whatever. Seriously, though, I was having a revelation moment; what was I talking about?”
Chip peered lazily at his companion’s face, wondering when exactly the moment they’d committed to getting stoned out of their minds had happened. Had it been earlier, when that stupid monster had thrown Xander through a wall? Or had it come about just because the time was right? Or was it because… “Dude I think you were about to tell me all about the mad crush you’ve got on Vida.”
“Pikachu, I’m an Earth type. I can crush you if you bring that bloody nonsense up again. Besides, everyone knows you and I were doing it in the cartoon.” Xander stubbed out the last remaining embers and reached for the bag to toss the roach in. Dro was not to be wasted; they’d empty the roach into a bowl when they started coming down.
Unfortunately, Xander was much farther gone than he thought and reached several inches to the left. Chip giggled helplessly, and kicked the bag closer to the errant hand.
“Flower Child, everyone thinks you and I are doing it. As in that chick that turned you down in biology yesterday? Told me you were trying to cheat on me. How hilarious is THAT!” And Chip was lost. Utterly, utterly lost. There was no coming back from these giggles.
Blinking slowly, Xander stared at Chip. And stared. And then for good measure, he gave Chip the fishbowl eyes. “Wait. Tina turned me down because she thinks I like the surprise buttsecks?!”
Holding his sides, Chip nodded helplessly, tears streaming from his eyes. The look on his purported lover’s face was beyond measure. Seriously. On a scale of Arnold Schwarzenegger in Total Recall to Harrison Ford in Blade Runner, Xander’s face ranked around Bruce Campbell - downright over the top!
“What the fuck is she on about? Just ‘cause I call you ‘Energizer Bunny’ every other sentence is no reason to think we’re rubbing pork swords!”
At this metaphor, Chip broke out into an uproarious cackle. In disgust, Xander practically threw the bag at his supposed friend, and crossed his arms in a huff.
“Seriously, how blind can people be? First it was “Oh, Xander honey, we can’t date you because you’re just after snookie” and now its “Oh, Xander, stop trying to cheat on your hunk of manmeat because you don’t deserve him”. It’s like fucking school and my parents all over again. “Oh, Mr. Bly, you have so much potential that you choose not to live up to” or “Oh, Xander, you used to be such an obedient child and now you’re out at all times of the night with those boys”. I am so. Fucking. Sick. And TIRED of people making up SHIT!“
Xander’s mocking tone had escalated until he was almost screaming, and the last word flew out of his mouth, leaving him panting in a sort of release. An arm settled around his shoulders, and Chip stared seriously at his friend.
“I know, dude. But we can’t change it, y’know? People think what they will, regardless of how often the truth is shoved in their faces. It’s why so many relationships fail. And you think I like being told to fuck off cuz I’m nothing but a wimpy dork? All you can do is sit back and enjoy the ride, smell the flowers, soak in the bubble bath. Lime, we’ve got magic. We’ve got weed. And if neither of those gives you tingles, there’s always me calling you a pussy until you master the vert ramp.”
Xander sighed deeply, and raised his eyes to the clouds. “I think you may have something there, Lemonade. The magic may be a bitch to master, and I may turn a billion more pencils into mini-trees accidentally before I do, but there’s nothing like it rushing through my veins. I know why so many people have hero complexes; kicking ass and taking names gives good tingles. And let it never be said I don’t appreciate the finer herbs in life. Let’s fuck the system, shut up the idiots, rage against the machine, and all that jazz. C’mon, dude, we’ve got music to enjoy with our enhanced senses.”
Chip slapped Xander on the back, peaceably, agreeably. “Damn straight. I feel like some Floyd, myself…”