drunkenpandaren (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
drunkenpandaren) wrote2008-03-19 09:15 pm
drunkenpandaren) wrote2008-03-19 09:15 pm
Element: Water REPLOTTED!
ANYONE who has been waiting for the long anticpated rewrite, it's finally here.
It's actually unrecognizable from the original stuff I did. For NOW. /evil
In the language of Meridian, there were about twenty different ways to state “You’re screwed”. Omi didn’t know any of this, or even the basic swear words that came to Raimundo so naturally.
So in short, when he woke up in his usual temple bed, he found himself flat on his face, instead of the semi-meditative state rolled onto his head. “OW!” proclaimed Omi, getting up to look around. “Hello? Kimiko? Clay? Raimundo? Where did everyone go?” Omi scowled. “This isn’t my room!”
Instead of the hard wood-and-stone fixings of the temple, Omi found himself in a rather comfortable room, laden with posters of famous Hong Kong superstars. A framed picture of him and the actress Gong Li was at his bedside table with a scrawled message in Cantonese. His bed was plush and soft, not the hard mat that he had grown up with, and there were various martial arts paraphernalia scattered about, including his monk uniform that sat to the side with a curious emblem on it.
“How very strange,” mused Omi. “This is not my room, nor is it my home!”
Cautiously opening the door to his room, he sniffed at the smell of food being prepared, a rice cooker hissing downstairs and the smell of fish being cooked on a stove. Creeping down with as much stealth as he could muster (for his body did not want to respond the same way he wanted for some odd reason), he peered around the corner at the sight of a tall man, his hair tied back in a ponytail. He wore an apron while cooking but his outfit was of a casual golf shirt and pants.
“You’re up early Omi,” remarked Chase Young, attending to the fish. Stirring the miso imported from Japan, he sipped it with a taste dish before turning to look curiously at Omi, the young boy so astonished at the domesticated appearance of his arch foe that his jaw dropped to the floor. Chase blinked. “Something wrong son?”
“SON?!” screeched Omi, the final shock barrelling into his head like a bullet. “I AM NOT YOUR SON CHASE YOUNG! MONKEY STRIKE!”
But instead of launching himself across the room in a move of swift agility, Omi barely could leap four feet before tipping over. Chase was immediately at his side, concern wrought over his expression. “Omi, are you okay? You didn’t hit your head anything after baseball did you?”
“I, uh…” Omi fumbled for words, the entire encounter de-railed. Chase smiled and helped him to his feet. “What is happening to me? I cannot perform my usual kicking and punching!”
“Omi you just started out with Master Fung at his dojo,” reminded Chase. “Come along now; its breakfast time. I’m sure Kimiko’ll be waiting for you.”
“Where is Kimiko? And Clay? And Raimundo and Dojo? Where is everyone?” demanded Omi.
“Son you’re raising your voice again,” reprimanded Chase.
“Son?” Omi’s eyes grew to full expression, his head exploded and he fell over, smoke pouring from his ears.
“Omi?”
/break
The chill of ice and snow made Katara come to full awareness that morning as light streamed into her simple hut. Pushing herself to a sitting position, she grimaced, a pain lancing through her shoulder. “Katara, you’re up already?” inquired Kanna, the old medicine woman of their tribe working on a herbal concoction at a small fire in the middle of the hut.
“Gran-gran, what’s…”
“Shhh, just rest,” said Kanna, helping Katara to a laying position. “You took a pretty bad fall off of that ice flow. Sokka dragged you all the way here. What on EARTH were you doing in the middle of nowhere? You know it’s dangerous with the penguin-bears about. It’s their mating season you know.”
“I, uh,” stammered Katara, her mind awash. Wasn’t she SUPPOSED to be headed towards Ba Sing Se? What was she doing back home? “Um, that is…”
“Well far be it from me to discourage a rambunctious young girl,” smiled Kanna. “Get some rest. That shoulder of yours needs healing.”
Getting up, Kanna let Sokka in as she passed by. “Hey,” greeted Sokka. “Feel any better?”
“Sokka what’s going on?” demanded Katara once her Gran-gran was out of sight. “Where’s Toph and Aang? Where’s Zuko for that matter?”
“Who and what now?” inquired Sokka. “I know the last name, everyone does. Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, right? Fat freaking time to get injured Katara, dad’s going to bring us to the nation capital in a week for his birthday ceremony.”
“Why would we even THINK of just walking in there?” demanded Katara. “This is all wrong, all wrong! We’re supposed to be headed to Ba Sing Se to get the Earth King’s support in the war AGAINST the Fire Nation!”
Sokka stood there, dumbfounded. “You SURE you didn’t hit your head too hard? The war that Fire Lord Souzen started ended a century ago when Avatar Roku put it down! It’s basic history – even the kids know it!”
“But… but what about Aang? What happened to the Avatar?”
“Aang? The Avatar? He’s up in the north pole, learning Waterbending. It’s all the news now. I’m sure more news will come when the Air Nomads drop off the latest shipment of relief medicines. That last storm really hit our tribe hard and—HEY!”
Desperate and confused, Katara had gotten out of her bed and pushed by Sokka to shove the door flap open. What greeted her however was a thriving city, the Southern Water Tribe in all of its glorious hey-day. People moved by each other, benders entertained children with tricks. Air Nomads bartered from atop massive Sky Bison while Earth Kingdom nationalities bent stone into stronger structures. Even the odd Fire Nation man walked by, apparently on leave as he jovially bartered some day-old cabbages with The Cabbage Guy who seemed to stalk them wherever Aang brought them.
“This… isn’t right,” whispered Katara, stunned.
“Of course it is,” replied Sokka. “C’mon inside, you must have gotten hit on the head a little too hard.”
Numbly, Katara allowed herself to be lead back inside the small medical hut that her grandmother preferred to treat the locals.
/break
Irma’s eyes flickered open as light streamed through the window. Pushing upwards, she yawned deeply.
Trudging downstairs, she greeted her dad and mom and stuck her tongue out at her brother. Sitting down for food however, she was greeted by a curious headline on Tom Lair’s newspaper: Regents of Earth Defend Meridian Colony.
“Dad?” inquired Irma.
“Yes?”
“Can I see the paper when you’re done?” inquired Irma.
“Sure thing, I’m done with it now.” Handing over the paper, he inquired, “Another school project?”
“Something like that.” Replied Irma.
Trying not to freak out in any way possible, Irma read over the headlines silently; words such as regent, meridian, and Queen Elyon popping up here and there. The gist however was obvious however as someone had declared themselves defenders of earth like a team of superheroes and had thwarted a real invasion a year ago. Since then, the ruler of the Other World of Meridian, as the paper stated, Queen Elyon had managed to claim the throne and had appointed a regency of peace between both worlds to undo the damage her evil brother had done.
Brow furrowed, Irma ate absently and got ready for class.
Once outside however, she was greeted by Hay Lin who surprisingly kissed her cheek. “So, you ready for the big Halloween dance?” the Chinese girl asked.
“I’m sorry what?” inquired Irma. Halloween was YESTERDAY, right?
“Yeah, it’s coming up. I hear Will finally asked Matt out and they’re going as a couple. And Caleb and Cornelia? They’re the talk of the town being a fairytale romance as the Queens Guard and the Queens Best Friend!”
Irma blinked rapidly. Caleb and Cornelia she knew always worked but since when did Will muster the ability to even TALK straight around Matt? For that matter, when did this loopy world even make sense?
Then it hit her: the explosion. The violet light, the strange energy, the sensation of being ripped apart painlessly… something MAGICAL happened last night and it screwed up the world.
“Hay Lin,” said Irma, pulling the girl to the side. “Are we Guardians?”
“Guardians? Of what?” inquired Hay Lin. “The only thing Grandma has me guard is the leftovers from Napoleon.”
“Na-who? Never mind.” Irma sighed. “You’re going to think I’m crazy but there’s something WEIRD going on here.”
“You’re acting sort of weirder yourself,” replied Hay Lin, neatly riposting the comment. “How weird are we talking about?”
“Very weird. So weird that this world isn’t RIGHT: no one on earth is supposed to know about Meridian, Phobos still has Elyon in his clutches, it was Halloween YESTERDAY, these Guardians or Regents or whatever aren’t supposed to BE here! I dunno, it’s like I went to bed and woke up in the twilight zone!” Irma paused in mid-rant. “This isn’t weirding you out is it?”
“Not really, but I didn’t get half of what you said,” shrugged Hay Lin. “C’mon, lets get to class. We’ll figure this out later.”
/break
The Balance Has Been Upset
Echo Knows This. And It Has Made Adjustments.
The Regeneration Isn’t Complete.
We will make certain it does finish.
Agreed.
Agreed.
Eh, why the hell not?
Then we are settled.
/break
The bell rang in the unfamiliar school as Omi had been perpetually late for class the entire morning. He had discovered, much to his shock that Chase was his FATHER in this strange twisted land, and that he was expected to go to high school.
Tugging on the uncomfortable uniform, he had found himself at a school swimming with identically clad young men and skirted young women. The school was a donation from apparently Kimiko’s father, and thus the girl was there as well. The school was modeled on the Japanese style, and apparently Chase preferred it for Omi to attend instead of the usual national Chinese run schools.
But even Kimiko was different. Despite being friends with Omi, she was completely absorbed in new technology, often dialling her cell phone to call her friend (something Omi believed she had stopped doing half a year or three ago), and was, for a lack of a better word, completely self-absorbed in herself.
The classes wore on Omi as he never had much use for the modern day teachings from a classroom, having only practical experience with technology. He could distinctly remember when Raimundo had played on his monk upraising to screw with him, but at the same time, there were overlaps.
Raimundo and Clay were nowhere to be found on campus, and a quick look at the student roster in the office (due to a hastily forged note from Kimiko who took pity on his newly clueless state) noted that no Clay or Raimundo attended the school. One name however was there, labelled Spicer, Jack.
So it was here that Omi had made his way to the computer club lab. Sliding the door open, he found himself in the room, dozens of computers humming, their screens in idle mode. At the far end, Jack sat there, typing on a keyboard with several “nerds” behind him.
“So if you input the correct sequence here, here and there you get… voila! Instant access to the internet with all strings removed!” proclaimed Spicer. The young man still sported the shock of fire-red hair and pasty white complexion from sitting in a lab all day, but he wore the outfit of the school and there was something different about the way he carried himself despite the relaxed slump in the chair. More relaxed. Upon further notice, what Omi thought was a pasty white complexion was actually elaborate stage makeup.
“Wow Jack, you’re really good!” snorted a stereotypical nerd next to him and his goonies nodded in tandem.
“When you got it you’ve got it,” smirked Jack.
Is it possible that Jack Spicer is the same? He seems different. Shrugging, Omi walked over and held up a hand. “Hello good people!”
Jack looked over. “What’s he doing here? I thought this was computer club only!”
“I must speak with you Jack Spicer, on a matter of most importance!” announced Omi.
Jack pursed his lips and then turned to the nerds around him. “Guys, gimme ten minutes. I’ll take care of the cue-ball.”
Obediently, they shuffled out of the room. Once they were gone, Jack drove a fist into Omi’s noggin. “You idiot! No wonder you’re the class idiot, you come up and talk to me when we’re not supposed to be seen together?”
Omi rubbed his bruised forehead. “What?”
Jack sighed. “Omi, look at me. I’m one of the cool kids. You’re the martial artist wannabe, the movie-nerd. We can’t be seen together in public no matter how much we’re friends! It’ll ruin everything!”
“O-kay?”
Jack threw up his hands in annoyance. “Forget it. So, what’s so important that you’d crash my place?”
“Jack, this world is not what it appears to be,” said Omi. “The world is all wrong, YOU are all wrong!”
Jack blinked three times. “You’ve just lost me short-round.”
“Don’t you understand? We’re facing a crisis so important that it has twisted the entire WORLD around! AND IT’S NOT MY FAULT THIS TIME!”
Jack wiggled a finger in his ear to clear the ringing. “Geez, hyper much? So what brought this on? Another marathon of ‘World Disaster’ movies?”
“You do not remember, do you?” said Omi, crestfallen that his attempt at reasoning had failed. “You do not remember that we are mortal enemies, fighting for domination of the Shen Gong Wu! You do not remember Wuya, or Chase Young or Master Dashi?”
Jack ticked off on his fingers. “Wuya’s my mom, Chase is your dad, we’re HALF-siblings, and Grand Master Dashi? He’s part of the Emperor’s Honor Guard right?”
Omi fell over.
Leaning over, Jack snapped his fingers. “Hello? Earth to Cue-ball?”
Immediately Omi shot upwards, screaming “WE ARE FAMILY?!”
Slapping a hand across Omi’s mouth, Jack hissed, “Dude! Do you really want to tell the whole world that our parents separated after you were born? It’s bad karma. Geez!”
“But… but what bout Master Fung and Dojo? Where are they?”
“What, the Fung guy? Master Fung is your kung fu teacher and I’ve never heard of this Dojo guy before.” Jack shrugged. “Look Omi, there’s something seriously wrong with you, or this world if what you’re going by. I know I’m supposed to be the cool aloof big brother but seriously dude, you have to chill.”
“But, but--!”
“LISTEN,” demanded Jack, bending over to look at his half-sibling. “I’ll forge a note so you can go home and get some rest. Not like dad’s going to be back before you’ll get home so you’re in the clear. Try not to watch any movies to break your brain further, okay?”
Omi deflated. “All right.”
/break
“Irma Lair, please report to the Principal’s Office. Irma Lair, please report…”
“Gee Irma, what’d you do this time?” inquired Cornelia.
“I have NO idea. Frankly, its probably my bad day going from bad to straight down the toilet.” Irma heaved a sigh and gathered up her books. “I’ll be back. Or not.”
“Dead man walking!” proclaimed Uriah and Irma paused to upturn his lunch try on his lap before walking off, ignoring sputtered angry yells from the school bully.
The walk to Knickerbocker’s office was short, uncomfortably so as Irma pushed the door open. Principal Knickerbocker looked up from her paperwork and straightened her wire-rims. “Irma, thank you for coming so quickly.”
“I’m not in any trouble, am I Principal Knickerbocker?” inquired Irma, sitting down on the painfully uncomfortable chair.
“Not quite,” said Knickerbocker as she pulled a letter. It was adorned with the seal of Meridian’s Royal Family. “This came for you just a few minutes ago. Apparently someone in the Royals wants to see you.”
Taking the envelope, she flipped it open and scanned it. While it was in the elegant cursive of a royal invitation, the invitation was not from Elyon. Instead, it was from a woman named Hiita the Fire Charmer. Briefly Irma flashed back to some of the explanations and remembered that the Four Sisters were known as the Charmers. “It says to meet in the park for a summoning portal,” said Irma, folding it up and quickly stuffing it into her jacket.
“I see,” nodded Principal Knickerbocker. “Now perhaps?”
“Immediately,” affirmed Irma.
It's actually unrecognizable from the original stuff I did. For NOW. /evil
In the language of Meridian, there were about twenty different ways to state “You’re screwed”. Omi didn’t know any of this, or even the basic swear words that came to Raimundo so naturally.
So in short, when he woke up in his usual temple bed, he found himself flat on his face, instead of the semi-meditative state rolled onto his head. “OW!” proclaimed Omi, getting up to look around. “Hello? Kimiko? Clay? Raimundo? Where did everyone go?” Omi scowled. “This isn’t my room!”
Instead of the hard wood-and-stone fixings of the temple, Omi found himself in a rather comfortable room, laden with posters of famous Hong Kong superstars. A framed picture of him and the actress Gong Li was at his bedside table with a scrawled message in Cantonese. His bed was plush and soft, not the hard mat that he had grown up with, and there were various martial arts paraphernalia scattered about, including his monk uniform that sat to the side with a curious emblem on it.
“How very strange,” mused Omi. “This is not my room, nor is it my home!”
Cautiously opening the door to his room, he sniffed at the smell of food being prepared, a rice cooker hissing downstairs and the smell of fish being cooked on a stove. Creeping down with as much stealth as he could muster (for his body did not want to respond the same way he wanted for some odd reason), he peered around the corner at the sight of a tall man, his hair tied back in a ponytail. He wore an apron while cooking but his outfit was of a casual golf shirt and pants.
“You’re up early Omi,” remarked Chase Young, attending to the fish. Stirring the miso imported from Japan, he sipped it with a taste dish before turning to look curiously at Omi, the young boy so astonished at the domesticated appearance of his arch foe that his jaw dropped to the floor. Chase blinked. “Something wrong son?”
“SON?!” screeched Omi, the final shock barrelling into his head like a bullet. “I AM NOT YOUR SON CHASE YOUNG! MONKEY STRIKE!”
But instead of launching himself across the room in a move of swift agility, Omi barely could leap four feet before tipping over. Chase was immediately at his side, concern wrought over his expression. “Omi, are you okay? You didn’t hit your head anything after baseball did you?”
“I, uh…” Omi fumbled for words, the entire encounter de-railed. Chase smiled and helped him to his feet. “What is happening to me? I cannot perform my usual kicking and punching!”
“Omi you just started out with Master Fung at his dojo,” reminded Chase. “Come along now; its breakfast time. I’m sure Kimiko’ll be waiting for you.”
“Where is Kimiko? And Clay? And Raimundo and Dojo? Where is everyone?” demanded Omi.
“Son you’re raising your voice again,” reprimanded Chase.
“Son?” Omi’s eyes grew to full expression, his head exploded and he fell over, smoke pouring from his ears.
“Omi?”
/break
The chill of ice and snow made Katara come to full awareness that morning as light streamed into her simple hut. Pushing herself to a sitting position, she grimaced, a pain lancing through her shoulder. “Katara, you’re up already?” inquired Kanna, the old medicine woman of their tribe working on a herbal concoction at a small fire in the middle of the hut.
“Gran-gran, what’s…”
“Shhh, just rest,” said Kanna, helping Katara to a laying position. “You took a pretty bad fall off of that ice flow. Sokka dragged you all the way here. What on EARTH were you doing in the middle of nowhere? You know it’s dangerous with the penguin-bears about. It’s their mating season you know.”
“I, uh,” stammered Katara, her mind awash. Wasn’t she SUPPOSED to be headed towards Ba Sing Se? What was she doing back home? “Um, that is…”
“Well far be it from me to discourage a rambunctious young girl,” smiled Kanna. “Get some rest. That shoulder of yours needs healing.”
Getting up, Kanna let Sokka in as she passed by. “Hey,” greeted Sokka. “Feel any better?”
“Sokka what’s going on?” demanded Katara once her Gran-gran was out of sight. “Where’s Toph and Aang? Where’s Zuko for that matter?”
“Who and what now?” inquired Sokka. “I know the last name, everyone does. Prince Zuko of the Fire Nation, right? Fat freaking time to get injured Katara, dad’s going to bring us to the nation capital in a week for his birthday ceremony.”
“Why would we even THINK of just walking in there?” demanded Katara. “This is all wrong, all wrong! We’re supposed to be headed to Ba Sing Se to get the Earth King’s support in the war AGAINST the Fire Nation!”
Sokka stood there, dumbfounded. “You SURE you didn’t hit your head too hard? The war that Fire Lord Souzen started ended a century ago when Avatar Roku put it down! It’s basic history – even the kids know it!”
“But… but what about Aang? What happened to the Avatar?”
“Aang? The Avatar? He’s up in the north pole, learning Waterbending. It’s all the news now. I’m sure more news will come when the Air Nomads drop off the latest shipment of relief medicines. That last storm really hit our tribe hard and—HEY!”
Desperate and confused, Katara had gotten out of her bed and pushed by Sokka to shove the door flap open. What greeted her however was a thriving city, the Southern Water Tribe in all of its glorious hey-day. People moved by each other, benders entertained children with tricks. Air Nomads bartered from atop massive Sky Bison while Earth Kingdom nationalities bent stone into stronger structures. Even the odd Fire Nation man walked by, apparently on leave as he jovially bartered some day-old cabbages with The Cabbage Guy who seemed to stalk them wherever Aang brought them.
“This… isn’t right,” whispered Katara, stunned.
“Of course it is,” replied Sokka. “C’mon inside, you must have gotten hit on the head a little too hard.”
Numbly, Katara allowed herself to be lead back inside the small medical hut that her grandmother preferred to treat the locals.
/break
Irma’s eyes flickered open as light streamed through the window. Pushing upwards, she yawned deeply.
Trudging downstairs, she greeted her dad and mom and stuck her tongue out at her brother. Sitting down for food however, she was greeted by a curious headline on Tom Lair’s newspaper: Regents of Earth Defend Meridian Colony.
“Dad?” inquired Irma.
“Yes?”
“Can I see the paper when you’re done?” inquired Irma.
“Sure thing, I’m done with it now.” Handing over the paper, he inquired, “Another school project?”
“Something like that.” Replied Irma.
Trying not to freak out in any way possible, Irma read over the headlines silently; words such as regent, meridian, and Queen Elyon popping up here and there. The gist however was obvious however as someone had declared themselves defenders of earth like a team of superheroes and had thwarted a real invasion a year ago. Since then, the ruler of the Other World of Meridian, as the paper stated, Queen Elyon had managed to claim the throne and had appointed a regency of peace between both worlds to undo the damage her evil brother had done.
Brow furrowed, Irma ate absently and got ready for class.
Once outside however, she was greeted by Hay Lin who surprisingly kissed her cheek. “So, you ready for the big Halloween dance?” the Chinese girl asked.
“I’m sorry what?” inquired Irma. Halloween was YESTERDAY, right?
“Yeah, it’s coming up. I hear Will finally asked Matt out and they’re going as a couple. And Caleb and Cornelia? They’re the talk of the town being a fairytale romance as the Queens Guard and the Queens Best Friend!”
Irma blinked rapidly. Caleb and Cornelia she knew always worked but since when did Will muster the ability to even TALK straight around Matt? For that matter, when did this loopy world even make sense?
Then it hit her: the explosion. The violet light, the strange energy, the sensation of being ripped apart painlessly… something MAGICAL happened last night and it screwed up the world.
“Hay Lin,” said Irma, pulling the girl to the side. “Are we Guardians?”
“Guardians? Of what?” inquired Hay Lin. “The only thing Grandma has me guard is the leftovers from Napoleon.”
“Na-who? Never mind.” Irma sighed. “You’re going to think I’m crazy but there’s something WEIRD going on here.”
“You’re acting sort of weirder yourself,” replied Hay Lin, neatly riposting the comment. “How weird are we talking about?”
“Very weird. So weird that this world isn’t RIGHT: no one on earth is supposed to know about Meridian, Phobos still has Elyon in his clutches, it was Halloween YESTERDAY, these Guardians or Regents or whatever aren’t supposed to BE here! I dunno, it’s like I went to bed and woke up in the twilight zone!” Irma paused in mid-rant. “This isn’t weirding you out is it?”
“Not really, but I didn’t get half of what you said,” shrugged Hay Lin. “C’mon, lets get to class. We’ll figure this out later.”
/break
The Balance Has Been Upset
Echo Knows This. And It Has Made Adjustments.
The Regeneration Isn’t Complete.
We will make certain it does finish.
Agreed.
Agreed.
Eh, why the hell not?
Then we are settled.
/break
The bell rang in the unfamiliar school as Omi had been perpetually late for class the entire morning. He had discovered, much to his shock that Chase was his FATHER in this strange twisted land, and that he was expected to go to high school.
Tugging on the uncomfortable uniform, he had found himself at a school swimming with identically clad young men and skirted young women. The school was a donation from apparently Kimiko’s father, and thus the girl was there as well. The school was modeled on the Japanese style, and apparently Chase preferred it for Omi to attend instead of the usual national Chinese run schools.
But even Kimiko was different. Despite being friends with Omi, she was completely absorbed in new technology, often dialling her cell phone to call her friend (something Omi believed she had stopped doing half a year or three ago), and was, for a lack of a better word, completely self-absorbed in herself.
The classes wore on Omi as he never had much use for the modern day teachings from a classroom, having only practical experience with technology. He could distinctly remember when Raimundo had played on his monk upraising to screw with him, but at the same time, there were overlaps.
Raimundo and Clay were nowhere to be found on campus, and a quick look at the student roster in the office (due to a hastily forged note from Kimiko who took pity on his newly clueless state) noted that no Clay or Raimundo attended the school. One name however was there, labelled Spicer, Jack.
So it was here that Omi had made his way to the computer club lab. Sliding the door open, he found himself in the room, dozens of computers humming, their screens in idle mode. At the far end, Jack sat there, typing on a keyboard with several “nerds” behind him.
“So if you input the correct sequence here, here and there you get… voila! Instant access to the internet with all strings removed!” proclaimed Spicer. The young man still sported the shock of fire-red hair and pasty white complexion from sitting in a lab all day, but he wore the outfit of the school and there was something different about the way he carried himself despite the relaxed slump in the chair. More relaxed. Upon further notice, what Omi thought was a pasty white complexion was actually elaborate stage makeup.
“Wow Jack, you’re really good!” snorted a stereotypical nerd next to him and his goonies nodded in tandem.
“When you got it you’ve got it,” smirked Jack.
Is it possible that Jack Spicer is the same? He seems different. Shrugging, Omi walked over and held up a hand. “Hello good people!”
Jack looked over. “What’s he doing here? I thought this was computer club only!”
“I must speak with you Jack Spicer, on a matter of most importance!” announced Omi.
Jack pursed his lips and then turned to the nerds around him. “Guys, gimme ten minutes. I’ll take care of the cue-ball.”
Obediently, they shuffled out of the room. Once they were gone, Jack drove a fist into Omi’s noggin. “You idiot! No wonder you’re the class idiot, you come up and talk to me when we’re not supposed to be seen together?”
Omi rubbed his bruised forehead. “What?”
Jack sighed. “Omi, look at me. I’m one of the cool kids. You’re the martial artist wannabe, the movie-nerd. We can’t be seen together in public no matter how much we’re friends! It’ll ruin everything!”
“O-kay?”
Jack threw up his hands in annoyance. “Forget it. So, what’s so important that you’d crash my place?”
“Jack, this world is not what it appears to be,” said Omi. “The world is all wrong, YOU are all wrong!”
Jack blinked three times. “You’ve just lost me short-round.”
“Don’t you understand? We’re facing a crisis so important that it has twisted the entire WORLD around! AND IT’S NOT MY FAULT THIS TIME!”
Jack wiggled a finger in his ear to clear the ringing. “Geez, hyper much? So what brought this on? Another marathon of ‘World Disaster’ movies?”
“You do not remember, do you?” said Omi, crestfallen that his attempt at reasoning had failed. “You do not remember that we are mortal enemies, fighting for domination of the Shen Gong Wu! You do not remember Wuya, or Chase Young or Master Dashi?”
Jack ticked off on his fingers. “Wuya’s my mom, Chase is your dad, we’re HALF-siblings, and Grand Master Dashi? He’s part of the Emperor’s Honor Guard right?”
Omi fell over.
Leaning over, Jack snapped his fingers. “Hello? Earth to Cue-ball?”
Immediately Omi shot upwards, screaming “WE ARE FAMILY?!”
Slapping a hand across Omi’s mouth, Jack hissed, “Dude! Do you really want to tell the whole world that our parents separated after you were born? It’s bad karma. Geez!”
“But… but what bout Master Fung and Dojo? Where are they?”
“What, the Fung guy? Master Fung is your kung fu teacher and I’ve never heard of this Dojo guy before.” Jack shrugged. “Look Omi, there’s something seriously wrong with you, or this world if what you’re going by. I know I’m supposed to be the cool aloof big brother but seriously dude, you have to chill.”
“But, but--!”
“LISTEN,” demanded Jack, bending over to look at his half-sibling. “I’ll forge a note so you can go home and get some rest. Not like dad’s going to be back before you’ll get home so you’re in the clear. Try not to watch any movies to break your brain further, okay?”
Omi deflated. “All right.”
/break
“Irma Lair, please report to the Principal’s Office. Irma Lair, please report…”
“Gee Irma, what’d you do this time?” inquired Cornelia.
“I have NO idea. Frankly, its probably my bad day going from bad to straight down the toilet.” Irma heaved a sigh and gathered up her books. “I’ll be back. Or not.”
“Dead man walking!” proclaimed Uriah and Irma paused to upturn his lunch try on his lap before walking off, ignoring sputtered angry yells from the school bully.
The walk to Knickerbocker’s office was short, uncomfortably so as Irma pushed the door open. Principal Knickerbocker looked up from her paperwork and straightened her wire-rims. “Irma, thank you for coming so quickly.”
“I’m not in any trouble, am I Principal Knickerbocker?” inquired Irma, sitting down on the painfully uncomfortable chair.
“Not quite,” said Knickerbocker as she pulled a letter. It was adorned with the seal of Meridian’s Royal Family. “This came for you just a few minutes ago. Apparently someone in the Royals wants to see you.”
Taking the envelope, she flipped it open and scanned it. While it was in the elegant cursive of a royal invitation, the invitation was not from Elyon. Instead, it was from a woman named Hiita the Fire Charmer. Briefly Irma flashed back to some of the explanations and remembered that the Four Sisters were known as the Charmers. “It says to meet in the park for a summoning portal,” said Irma, folding it up and quickly stuffing it into her jacket.
“I see,” nodded Principal Knickerbocker. “Now perhaps?”
“Immediately,” affirmed Irma.