Mullet-verse Redux. Chapter 3
So I got to thinking about the talk of hormones in the comments of a previous chapter. While I was in the shower. Anyone who has ever thought in the shower knows as well as I do that it is one of the best places to brainstorm. (I almost want to see if anyone's ever tried doing a scientific experiment to see why that seems to so consistently be the case.) So anyway, I came up with a tentative title for this: "Discordant Hormoney." Because I'm a word geek and I find that hilarious and clever. ^_^ Opinions?
Amusing typo that occurred during the initial writing: "So, um...can you come fic them?" Which should have been "So, um...can you come fix them?" Ha, my subconscious wants the Teen Titans to write Boostle. ^_^
Also: I got Countdown and OMAC Project for Christmas (because I asked Santa nicely), so now I know exactly what happened. So if you want to see my spoilerific ramble about it, which includes bits about how it relates to the Mullet-verse, Click Here.
I've read everything up to, but not including, the Teen Titans issues with Rob Liefeld. I have those, I just...can't actually read them. I tried, but they hurt my eyes. Literally. I don't know who did colors, but could we have maybe had a little less eye-stabbity? Hm?
Guest beta by alba_aulbath.
CHAPTERS: { Prologue }{ Chapter One }{ Chapter Two }{ Chapter Three }{ Chapter Four }{ Chapter Five }{ Chapter Six }{ Chapter Seven }{ Chapter Eight }{ Epilogue }
<-{ previous story: Midst Of Rough Earthliness } { next story: Harmonious Discourse }->
~3rd Chapter
Tim suppressed a sigh and told himself that purposely banging his head against a wall was very un-Robin-like behavior. It was turning out to be one of those days.
It had started early on. During the fulfillment of some routine duties to the good, and definitely forgiving, people of San Fransisco, there had been a mechanical malfunction and the Teen Titans had spent several long, occasionally painful hours rounding up some escaped meta convicts. Luckily the three men were somewhat disoriented and thus easier to capture, but it was not without its difficulties. And there had been a worrying moment near the end when Cassie had to be reminded that continuing to zap someone with her lasso after they were already unconscious was overkill.
When the tired team had trudged back to the Titans Tower (Tim made a mental note to look into whether alliteration was a sign of stress), they had been flummoxed to find that Superboy, Kon, had finally taken them up on the standing invitation to return. Kon had stood there, staring at them uncertainly, and the team had stared back. It was Bart, naturally, who was the first to recover. The speedster had disappeared in a blur, reappeared in front of Kon, punched his arm irritably, then thrown his arms around their wayward friend and hugged him for all he was worth.
When Bart let go of Kon, Cassie had flown into Kon to hug him as well. When she released him, she had started lecturing him on how he was never, ever, ever to run off on them ever again and was he ready to stop being a big dumb ape (at which Gar had absently shifted into just that shape) and she hoped he realized that he was their friend and they cared about him and if he did it again she'd kick his ass and then call Wonder Woman to have her kick his ass too, you big lug. Throughout the lecture Bart had nodded in agreement with everything Cassie said, head moving so fast it was reminiscent of a bobble-head doll in an earthquake. It was actually pretty amazing that he was able to do that without cracking any vertebrae.
Then it was Tim's turn. As he stepped up to his friend, he had extended a hand. There was something about the way Kon's eyes were focusing strangely on his arm that made Tim suspect he was looking at the healed break with his X-ray vision.
"I'd hug you too, but it would ruin my image," Tim had said, in his I'm-being-serious-really Robin voice. Kon had smiled at that, squeezing Tim's hand firmly but not nearly as firmly as Tim knew he could, then abruptly pulled him into a hug that Tim could feel through his armor. It was good to have Kon back.
Then had come Kon's tag-team interrogation from Cassie and Bart, who were especially effective because they easily flustered him with feminine wiles and speaking almost too fast to understand, respectively. No, Kon wasn't here permanently yet, he was just testing the waters. Yes, Kon would keep in touch better than he had been. Yes, Kon was a jackass (again, Gar had morphed to fit the mentioned animal) for not keeping in touch better. Yes, Kon knew that they would track him down, tie him up, and make him watch old reruns of Thugees if he didn't contact them at least once a week. Yes, Kon was considering returning to the team on a more permanent basis, but he didn't feel ready to just yet. Yes, Kon would be staying the whole weekend. No, Kon hadn't known they had kept his room exactly as he left it. Yes, Kon had noticed Bart's new watch. No, Kon didn't know Bart's new watch could survive a ridiculous amount of damage. Yes, Kon had already eaten breakfast. Eggs and pancakes. Yes, Kon still knew he was a jackass (Gar once more provided a visual aid).
Kon's relief had almost been tangible when they were interrupted by a call. When they answered, an unfamiliar face had appeared on the viewscreen, shifting with obvious impatience. Shaggy brown hair that looked like it hadn't been introduced to the concept of a comb, bright blue eyes, slightly pointed nose, and a shirt that looked like it was trying to escape down one shoulder.
"You're sure you called the right number?" the boy asked someone offscreen. A quiet, odd-sounding voice responded and the boy frowned. "Well I can't see anything. You said you'd do picture this time, too. There's no picture. I'm not gonna do that anonymous tipster thing again, that's just stupid." He paused, listening, then shook his head. "'Cause they're gonna see me anyway if they come. Dad's just being overprotective. Or paranoid. Or something." He huffed impatiently and crossed his arms over his chest. An odd look suddenly crossed his face. "Um...did you get through? Are--Can they hear me?"
"Yes. We can," Cyborg spoke up.
The boy jumped in surprise, then blinked at the screen. An inane grin spread across his face and he raised a hand in a motionless wave. "Hi!" he said, voice squeaking a little. "Um...is this the Teen Titans?"
"Yes," Cyborg said, smiling a little.
"Okay. Okay!" The boy lowered his hand and nodded, collecting his thoughts. "Okay! Um...I...." His expression changed to worry. "I kinda need help. Um, see...my parents accidentally got turned into kids with magic. I think. And I saw you guys on TV a while ago and Skeets said you were the Teen Titans so I thought, you know, that I should call you, 'cause you're teens and I'm a teen and now my parents are teens, so it, um, seemed like a good idea and also I think my parents aren't speaking to the Justice League right now." He paused to catch his breath after the rapid info dump. "So, um...can you come fix them?"
"Does the name Klarion--"
"Bum bum bum!"
"--the Witch Boy mean anything to you?" Robin finished, then shot a look at Bart, who shrugged and muttered something about it seeming appropriate.
The boy's expression was blank for a moment before his eyebrows twisted in confusion. "Um...he sounds like he was named after zit cream?" He shrugged helplessly. "Maybe we've got something of his in the basement?"
"In the basement?" Bart asked.
"Yeah, that's where dad keeps all the magic stuff."
Tim reminded himself that smacking his own forehead and groaning was not proper Robin behavior.
----------
"Okay," Mikey snapped. "Kidnapping? Fine. Changing my clothes? Whatever. But dying my hair?"
"You have...very interesting priorities," Ted said slowly, staring at his irate companion.
"I have to draw the line somewhere," Mikey sniffed.
"Well yeah, but this one's practically Bezier."
Mikey stared at him for a moment and changed his initial observation from "kind of geeky" to "definitely geeky." Glancing around the basement, he grabbed Ted's arm and tugged him toward the stairs. "Come on."
"What?" Ted asked, following despite the protests that he was clearly holding back "Where are we going?"
"Outta here," Mikey said with certainty.
"That's easy for you to say, you've got pants!" Ted protested.
Mikey sighed. "Well let's find something to put over...that."
"What? A tutu?"
Scanning the basement again, Mikey snatched a long coat from off a cot and handed it to the boy. "Will this work?"
"I feel like a flasher," Ted muttered, holding it up to examine it.
"Just put it on so we can get outta here." At Ted's reluctant look he sighed again. "Do you trust that kid?"
Ted frowned thoughtfully. "Well...actually, he looks a little like my brother."
Mikey waited.
Ted grimaced, shrugging on the coat. "Hell no, let's split."
Mikey grinned and grabbed Ted's hand, dragging him upstairs.
"Hey...um, Mikey?"
"Yeah?"
"How are you doing that?"
Mikey stopped and glanced back to look at him. "Doing what?" When Ted pointed down, Mikey followed his gaze to his own feet...which weren't touching the ground. "Whoa."
Tugging his hand free and crouching down on a lower step, Ted waved a hand under the few inches of air beneath Mikey's feet. "Nothing," he pronounced. "No strings, no mirrors, no glass." He looked up at Mikey with a look that was equal parts awe and confusion. "Nothing!"
Mikey stared at his feet like he didn't recognize them, then Ted quickly snatched his hand back and he felt the ground under him again. That was when he noticed his hands. He wasn't sure why he hadn't noticed before, but he was wearing some sort of gold-colored gloves with odd squares of harder material on the backs of the hands. His eyes widened as he also caught sight of the ring on one of his fingers. "Whoa," he whispered, bringing it closer to look at.
"What? What is it?" Ted joined him on the step and leaned in to look at the ring. "It's a ring."
"It's a Legion flight ring," Mikey corrected. "I saw one in a museum once."
"What's it do?" Mikey gave him an "are you dense?" look and Ted grimaced. "Nevermind. Pretend I didn't say that."
"Done," Mikey agreed readily, then grinned. "You know what this means?"
"You can fly?"
"We can fly."
Ted's brow furrowed in confusion. "How can--?" He cut himself off with a yelp as Mikey grabbed him around the waist and started floating again.
"Hold on," Mikey instructed giddily. When Ted clung to him in surprised panic, Mikey concentrated and they shot up the rest of the stairs. They emerged into a room that looked like it had definitely seen better days, and that those better days could easily have included heavy weapons fire and still been significantly better. Spotting a large hole in the roof, Mikey tightened his hold on Ted (who clung tighter in response) and shot up into the sky.
"This is great!" Mikey exclaimed, laughing.
"You're nuts!" Ted shot back.
"You know what I need?"
"What?!"
"A viser, or goggles or something," Mikey said, turning his head toward Ted as they rose above the thick layer of clouds.
"To keep the wind out of your eyes?" Ted asked, glancing up at him.
"Yeah...and it'd look good." Mikey laughed as Ted rolled his eyes at him, then let out a wordless whoop of excitement as he dove through and back below the clouds.
Ted shouted something that sounded like "Yarg!" and wrapped his legs around Mikey. With Ted plastered against his side as he was, Mikey was almost positive the other boy worked out.
Kidnapping aside, this was the best day ever.
-----
[ETA of chapter the fourth: plotted, just needs to be written down, tweaked, and betaed]
BONUS: Because today's my birthday (twenty-one! Woo!), I'm including a sketch of a scene from Mullet-verse Redux, Chapter One. It's what happens when I try to imitate Todd Nauck's style. (Opinions on whether I should get rid of the crappy attempt at Junior's hand before I try coloring it?)
"Skeets is a friend. Really smart. Good at fixing problems. ...I'll go get him."
Amusing typo that occurred during the initial writing: "So, um...can you come fic them?" Which should have been "So, um...can you come fix them?" Ha, my subconscious wants the Teen Titans to write Boostle. ^_^
Also: I got Countdown and OMAC Project for Christmas (because I asked Santa nicely), so now I know exactly what happened. So if you want to see my spoilerific ramble about it, which includes bits about how it relates to the Mullet-verse, Click Here.
I've read everything up to, but not including, the Teen Titans issues with Rob Liefeld. I have those, I just...can't actually read them. I tried, but they hurt my eyes. Literally. I don't know who did colors, but could we have maybe had a little less eye-stabbity? Hm?
Guest beta by alba_aulbath.
CHAPTERS: { Prologue }{ Chapter One }{ Chapter Two }{ Chapter Three }{ Chapter Four }{ Chapter Five }{ Chapter Six }{ Chapter Seven }{ Chapter Eight }{ Epilogue }
<-{ previous story: Midst Of Rough Earthliness } { next story: Harmonious Discourse }->
~3rd Chapter
Tim suppressed a sigh and told himself that purposely banging his head against a wall was very un-Robin-like behavior. It was turning out to be one of those days.
It had started early on. During the fulfillment of some routine duties to the good, and definitely forgiving, people of San Fransisco, there had been a mechanical malfunction and the Teen Titans had spent several long, occasionally painful hours rounding up some escaped meta convicts. Luckily the three men were somewhat disoriented and thus easier to capture, but it was not without its difficulties. And there had been a worrying moment near the end when Cassie had to be reminded that continuing to zap someone with her lasso after they were already unconscious was overkill.
When the tired team had trudged back to the Titans Tower (Tim made a mental note to look into whether alliteration was a sign of stress), they had been flummoxed to find that Superboy, Kon, had finally taken them up on the standing invitation to return. Kon had stood there, staring at them uncertainly, and the team had stared back. It was Bart, naturally, who was the first to recover. The speedster had disappeared in a blur, reappeared in front of Kon, punched his arm irritably, then thrown his arms around their wayward friend and hugged him for all he was worth.
When Bart let go of Kon, Cassie had flown into Kon to hug him as well. When she released him, she had started lecturing him on how he was never, ever, ever to run off on them ever again and was he ready to stop being a big dumb ape (at which Gar had absently shifted into just that shape) and she hoped he realized that he was their friend and they cared about him and if he did it again she'd kick his ass and then call Wonder Woman to have her kick his ass too, you big lug. Throughout the lecture Bart had nodded in agreement with everything Cassie said, head moving so fast it was reminiscent of a bobble-head doll in an earthquake. It was actually pretty amazing that he was able to do that without cracking any vertebrae.
Then it was Tim's turn. As he stepped up to his friend, he had extended a hand. There was something about the way Kon's eyes were focusing strangely on his arm that made Tim suspect he was looking at the healed break with his X-ray vision.
"I'd hug you too, but it would ruin my image," Tim had said, in his I'm-being-serious-really Robin voice. Kon had smiled at that, squeezing Tim's hand firmly but not nearly as firmly as Tim knew he could, then abruptly pulled him into a hug that Tim could feel through his armor. It was good to have Kon back.
Then had come Kon's tag-team interrogation from Cassie and Bart, who were especially effective because they easily flustered him with feminine wiles and speaking almost too fast to understand, respectively. No, Kon wasn't here permanently yet, he was just testing the waters. Yes, Kon would keep in touch better than he had been. Yes, Kon was a jackass (again, Gar had morphed to fit the mentioned animal) for not keeping in touch better. Yes, Kon knew that they would track him down, tie him up, and make him watch old reruns of Thugees if he didn't contact them at least once a week. Yes, Kon was considering returning to the team on a more permanent basis, but he didn't feel ready to just yet. Yes, Kon would be staying the whole weekend. No, Kon hadn't known they had kept his room exactly as he left it. Yes, Kon had noticed Bart's new watch. No, Kon didn't know Bart's new watch could survive a ridiculous amount of damage. Yes, Kon had already eaten breakfast. Eggs and pancakes. Yes, Kon still knew he was a jackass (Gar once more provided a visual aid).
Kon's relief had almost been tangible when they were interrupted by a call. When they answered, an unfamiliar face had appeared on the viewscreen, shifting with obvious impatience. Shaggy brown hair that looked like it hadn't been introduced to the concept of a comb, bright blue eyes, slightly pointed nose, and a shirt that looked like it was trying to escape down one shoulder.
"You're sure you called the right number?" the boy asked someone offscreen. A quiet, odd-sounding voice responded and the boy frowned. "Well I can't see anything. You said you'd do picture this time, too. There's no picture. I'm not gonna do that anonymous tipster thing again, that's just stupid." He paused, listening, then shook his head. "'Cause they're gonna see me anyway if they come. Dad's just being overprotective. Or paranoid. Or something." He huffed impatiently and crossed his arms over his chest. An odd look suddenly crossed his face. "Um...did you get through? Are--Can they hear me?"
"Yes. We can," Cyborg spoke up.
The boy jumped in surprise, then blinked at the screen. An inane grin spread across his face and he raised a hand in a motionless wave. "Hi!" he said, voice squeaking a little. "Um...is this the Teen Titans?"
"Yes," Cyborg said, smiling a little.
"Okay. Okay!" The boy lowered his hand and nodded, collecting his thoughts. "Okay! Um...I...." His expression changed to worry. "I kinda need help. Um, see...my parents accidentally got turned into kids with magic. I think. And I saw you guys on TV a while ago and Skeets said you were the Teen Titans so I thought, you know, that I should call you, 'cause you're teens and I'm a teen and now my parents are teens, so it, um, seemed like a good idea and also I think my parents aren't speaking to the Justice League right now." He paused to catch his breath after the rapid info dump. "So, um...can you come fix them?"
"Does the name Klarion--"
"Bum bum bum!"
"--the Witch Boy mean anything to you?" Robin finished, then shot a look at Bart, who shrugged and muttered something about it seeming appropriate.
The boy's expression was blank for a moment before his eyebrows twisted in confusion. "Um...he sounds like he was named after zit cream?" He shrugged helplessly. "Maybe we've got something of his in the basement?"
"In the basement?" Bart asked.
"Yeah, that's where dad keeps all the magic stuff."
Tim reminded himself that smacking his own forehead and groaning was not proper Robin behavior.
----------
"Okay," Mikey snapped. "Kidnapping? Fine. Changing my clothes? Whatever. But dying my hair?"
"You have...very interesting priorities," Ted said slowly, staring at his irate companion.
"I have to draw the line somewhere," Mikey sniffed.
"Well yeah, but this one's practically Bezier."
Mikey stared at him for a moment and changed his initial observation from "kind of geeky" to "definitely geeky." Glancing around the basement, he grabbed Ted's arm and tugged him toward the stairs. "Come on."
"What?" Ted asked, following despite the protests that he was clearly holding back "Where are we going?"
"Outta here," Mikey said with certainty.
"That's easy for you to say, you've got pants!" Ted protested.
Mikey sighed. "Well let's find something to put over...that."
"What? A tutu?"
Scanning the basement again, Mikey snatched a long coat from off a cot and handed it to the boy. "Will this work?"
"I feel like a flasher," Ted muttered, holding it up to examine it.
"Just put it on so we can get outta here." At Ted's reluctant look he sighed again. "Do you trust that kid?"
Ted frowned thoughtfully. "Well...actually, he looks a little like my brother."
Mikey waited.
Ted grimaced, shrugging on the coat. "Hell no, let's split."
Mikey grinned and grabbed Ted's hand, dragging him upstairs.
"Hey...um, Mikey?"
"Yeah?"
"How are you doing that?"
Mikey stopped and glanced back to look at him. "Doing what?" When Ted pointed down, Mikey followed his gaze to his own feet...which weren't touching the ground. "Whoa."
Tugging his hand free and crouching down on a lower step, Ted waved a hand under the few inches of air beneath Mikey's feet. "Nothing," he pronounced. "No strings, no mirrors, no glass." He looked up at Mikey with a look that was equal parts awe and confusion. "Nothing!"
Mikey stared at his feet like he didn't recognize them, then Ted quickly snatched his hand back and he felt the ground under him again. That was when he noticed his hands. He wasn't sure why he hadn't noticed before, but he was wearing some sort of gold-colored gloves with odd squares of harder material on the backs of the hands. His eyes widened as he also caught sight of the ring on one of his fingers. "Whoa," he whispered, bringing it closer to look at.
"What? What is it?" Ted joined him on the step and leaned in to look at the ring. "It's a ring."
"It's a Legion flight ring," Mikey corrected. "I saw one in a museum once."
"What's it do?" Mikey gave him an "are you dense?" look and Ted grimaced. "Nevermind. Pretend I didn't say that."
"Done," Mikey agreed readily, then grinned. "You know what this means?"
"You can fly?"
"We can fly."
Ted's brow furrowed in confusion. "How can--?" He cut himself off with a yelp as Mikey grabbed him around the waist and started floating again.
"Hold on," Mikey instructed giddily. When Ted clung to him in surprised panic, Mikey concentrated and they shot up the rest of the stairs. They emerged into a room that looked like it had definitely seen better days, and that those better days could easily have included heavy weapons fire and still been significantly better. Spotting a large hole in the roof, Mikey tightened his hold on Ted (who clung tighter in response) and shot up into the sky.
"This is great!" Mikey exclaimed, laughing.
"You're nuts!" Ted shot back.
"You know what I need?"
"What?!"
"A viser, or goggles or something," Mikey said, turning his head toward Ted as they rose above the thick layer of clouds.
"To keep the wind out of your eyes?" Ted asked, glancing up at him.
"Yeah...and it'd look good." Mikey laughed as Ted rolled his eyes at him, then let out a wordless whoop of excitement as he dove through and back below the clouds.
Ted shouted something that sounded like "Yarg!" and wrapped his legs around Mikey. With Ted plastered against his side as he was, Mikey was almost positive the other boy worked out.
Kidnapping aside, this was the best day ever.
-----
[ETA of chapter the fourth: plotted, just needs to be written down, tweaked, and betaed]
BONUS: Because today's my birthday (twenty-one! Woo!), I'm including a sketch of a scene from Mullet-verse Redux, Chapter One. It's what happens when I try to imitate Todd Nauck's style. (Opinions on whether I should get rid of the crappy attempt at Junior's hand before I try coloring it?)
"Skeets is a friend. Really smart. Good at fixing problems. ...I'll go get him."
