#legend has it hes still at the shadow dojo to this day

[destinysbounty]

Ras technically hasn't even gone into the Shadow Dojo yet. He's just been lurking outside all this time. Did someone lock him out?

#legend has it hes still at the shadow dojo to this day #ninjago #ninjago dragons rising #dragons rising #ninjago ras #ras at shadow dojo #destiny post

[alyss-spazz-penedo]

Okay, so life has gotten STUPID stressful of late, and these days I have basically no time to indulge happy daydreams AT ALL.

Thus: screw pacing, I'm just gonna toss up this mostly-completed 11th part of the unedited v!Wind fic and then blow through the rest of this fic sometime in the next few weeks, bc I’m not adding any more content to what I’ve already got (or at least not anytime soon).

So yeah, @w1lmutt, expect a larger and more chaotic worddump than usual eventually! (I figure I can worry about proper scenes and editing nonsense if/when I ever move these words over to AO3 ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

<<First Part 10 Final>>

(I made a Masterpost for this!)

They drag the big doors open.

The inside of the cave is poorly lit and offers little in the way of room to stand; a pathway of those monster-built walkways follows the wall around to the back of the cove, but otherwise the space is all open water with an impressive ship bobbing at the center.

Tetra lets out a grunt of approval when she sees it, though she scowls at the massive cage that's been built on its deck. It’s a crude thing, large and runed with ominous symbols meant to contain the imprisoned, but otherwise the ship itself seems surprisingly understated and not-evil for the primary vessel of someone who’d conquered as much of the sea as Phantom had boasted.

At first, things seem fine. Quiet. The ship is untouched, all gangplanks pulled up and cannons pointed out but otherwise unharmed.

Then one of the pirates peeks their head over the railing and spots them.

"Boss! Swabbie! Is that you?" Niko yells, and there's blood all down his side. "Look out! Monsters afoot!"

"Niko!" Tetra calls in alarm, and the pirates who are able to scramble to lay out a plank for them to board. Phantom doesn't bother waiting, yanking his mask on and clearing the side of the ship in a single bound.

"Who did this," he begins, voice distorted by magic and fury.

Then the monsters attack, dropping from the ceiling and rising out of the sea. Every one of them bleeds black.

The heroes fight, of course. The crew has taken a beating, and the gathered Links do their best to defend the exhausted sailors—Phantom most fervently of them all.

It's hard battle. What footing there is is unstable, and their enemies many. Most of them are not suited to aquatic battles, and the waters of the cave are treacherous. They take injuries, all of them.

But when he's standing between their injured and their enemies, when his eyes are clear and sharp and his strikes deadly precise—for the first time, the gathered Links can see the look of a hero about their youngest.

~o0o~

Of course, he proceeds to thoroughly ruin that impression by the time the battle draws to a close.

The monster he's chosen is not a type of creature he recognizes—green, reptilian, fast in the water. Phantom's cut it's legs out from under it, quite literally, and so it writhes on it's elbows and stomach across the wooden deck as it tries to escape him. Outside of their little corner of the ship, the last of its comrades fall to the blades of the traveling heroes.

"Who sent you?" Phantom demands. When he doesn't get a response he likes, he drags his blade through the side of it's belly, long and nonfatal. It squeals in agony.

"You're going to die here," he observes, soft. He stomps on the wound, heedless of the dark blood splashing his sandals. "But it's going to take time. Quite some time, if you so choose. Answer me: who is your master?"

The creature gibbers. Phantom tilts his head, somehow divining meaning from the nonsensical noises of terror.

"A shadow?" he murmurs. "What-?"

Someone steps in. “What are you doing?!”

And it's only because it’s Hyrule—Hyrule who tried to help, Hyrule who’s lightning magic Phantom can still feel painful echoes of in his bones—that Phantom stays his blade. “Get out of my way,” he growls, which is better than the stabbing any of these other interlopers would’ve gotten.

A hand lands on his shoulder. Phantom's sword swings around, action to reaction with no pause for thought in between. The edge stops a hair's breadth away from Tetra's scowl.

"That's enough," she says, and shoots the lizalfos in the head.

Phantom scowls at the dead body, then at her. "I was not finished," he growls.

Tetra yanks on his ear.

"Ow! Hey!" He flails. "Leggo leggo!"

"We have more important things to worry about!" She yells, dragging him around to look at the sorry state of her crew. "Genzo needs a splint! Niko needs stitches and more bandages than we have! Everyone is beat to shit! And only one of us can fly, idiot!"

She lets go of his ear to shove him forward. Phantom stops. He looks.

"Oh," he utters, and he notices for the first time that he has blood dripping down his shield arm. He shakes his head, once, like a dog, and clutches at the wound. He feels very cold. "...Oh."

As though it had merely been waiting for his permission, the lizal corpse finally explodes into dark smoke.

"Right," he breathes. "Right."

~o0o~

"What were those," Phantom demands.

The pirates have been left in the care of the brothers who'd first opened their dojo to the traveling heroes, recuperating from their various injuries. Fortunately, none of the damage seems permanent. A few fairies, some liberally applied first aid, and all the crew should be at least back on their feet within the week.

This, however, has left the group of heroes with nowhere to stay, which led to Phantom reluctantly opening his own home to them. They're packed in there now, sprawled about both floors and generally tending to themselves with experienced hands.

"What do you think?" Legend replies snippily. Phantom scowls at them all, pacing back and forth restlessly in the tight space by the front door.

His glare lands on Four, helping Twilight wrap his wrist—on Wild getting scolded while Legend rests his ice rod on the Champion's ankle—on Hyrule tutting over Sky while Warriors dramatically bemoans his black eye—

He takes in the group's injuries with a dissatisfaction that very, very poorly covers his unease.

"You're not weak," the boy asserts. Time wonders who he's trying to convince. "You wouldn't have beaten me if you were weak. Why was this battle so difficult?"

"You didn't get off lightly yourself," Time points out, nodding to the thick mess of gauze on the boy's arm. At a guess, the boy had tried to block a blow with his shield and forgotten he wasn't wearing one. Fortunate that there's a fairy fountain on the island, or Phantom might've lost strength in that limb.

Phantom waves him off. "I was handicapped," he dismisses, not denying that he wasn't fighting at his best. Time frowns at the excuse. "I'll figure something out to compensate for it, and this won't happen again."

He gets a lot of dubious looks at that; none of them have forgotten that what he's trying to 'compensate for' is the loss of that parasite. Time's almost dreading what the boy might scrounge up to replace that.

Phantom turns away from them sulkily, unable to defend himself and unwilling to look all that suspicion in the face.

"To answer your question," Four starts, with the air of someone steering the conversation back to safer waters, "that's just the kind of journey we're on."

Sky swings his previously-dislocated shoulder in a testing motion that immediately gets him a cease-and-desist look from Hyrule, before he adds, "Those were pretty standard for black-blooded monsters, I'd say."

Twilight, catching the look on Phantom's face, rolls his eyes. "Did you think something the goddess summoned eight heroes to fight would be easy?"

Phantom scoffs, arms crossed. "It took eight of you to fight me," he grumbles, and there's the arrogant little brat they'd met at the start of this. Hopefully that means the kid's feeling better, if he's up to sassing them like that again.

Time rather doubts that—Phantom IS a Link, after all—and so the one-eyed hero makes a mental note to follow up on that later.

#Vinked Universe #the unedited v!wind fic #linked universe #my writing #fanfic #me: tries my hand at action bc this is supposed to be a LU fic #Also me: drops it like a hot potato bc I have no idea how to Fight Scene #next part is just gonna be me turning my notebook upside and shaking it until all the plunnies fall out #I hope ur prepared #this has been a lot of fun but I am just. done #i think it's clear enough where I'm going with things at this point anyways

[thegoldendemon]

@osaii

    The Golden Demon. Khada Akana. What is an azakana to him?

    In truth, Khada Jhin has never been attuned to the way of the spirits, be they the benevolent kanmei or the aforementioned akana, devils of emotional past. As a child he once shadowed a spirit guide belonged to his village, as his father believed that it might give his life needed direction if Jhin meant to shirk his family’s legacy with the dojo (and he did). The spirit guide complimented Jhin’s incredible sensitivity to magic, but returned him to his father within the day. Not even the strongest of clairvoyant charms could let Jhin see let alone interact with so much as the most inconsequential spirit. Young Jhin hypothesized that they must have been all afraid of him.

    Today, that much hasn’t changed.

    So how was it that taking on the facade of an akana came to Jhin? Convenience, really, and a helpful dash of Ionia’s incredible talent for superstition. When rumors of Madame Maxim’s traveling circus having the uncanny ability to foretell the coming of brutal scenes of murder, it never once occurred to his still greenhorn countrymen—not yet having tasted it for themselves when Noxus arrived—that the perpetrator could have been human. No, they insisted, such “desecration of life” (their description, not his) had to have been the work of a deranged akana, ripped from the Spirit Realm and wrongfully transferred into the material world.

    Simple enough to fashion a real face after that.

    Yes, it was this very legend and myth-making that would bring the Navori Kinkou to Zhyun, Master Kusho then determined to banish such a fiend to the realm where it properly belonged. And so it was that he and his two most treasured sons would struggle for four years, until a fateful Blossom Festival outside of Kaijn City where it was revealed that this demon was no such thing. He did not need to hide his true name—indeed, he reveled in it, as humans do. Khada Jhin.

    But when Zed—Usan then—stepped forward to send to Jhin what humans also do to each other, Master Kusho stopped him. Because, like all those kanmei and akana ago, he was afraid. He did not want to find out what would happen if Jhin became aware of the Spirit Realm that, if not through life, through death. So scared.

    Even now, Jhin thinks it flattering.

    An azakana hunter is coming through, no doubt on the tertiary coattails of a legend now sixteen years old. Jhin makes no effort to hide himself, of course. There’s no need. Instead the Golden Demon is stood introspectively inside a clearing, a meadow of red amaryllis. The moon is high, almost red. In four days it will be the Blood Moon, but not tonight.

    “I’m afraid all that searching will lead to naught,” Jhin says, still looking. “There has been nary a loose azakana in Zhyun for two decades. Some say I’ve chased them all away.”

    He doesn’t need the fake face under his mask to show that he’s smiling.

    “Have you tried The Temple of Shadow, instead?”

#sorry yone hes just like this #all the time. every day every hour. #thanks for the fun excuse to exposit about jhins relationship with demons cause its fun #starter. #yone. #osaii

[abizarreyodelingincident]

Ridiculous Optimization: The Art of Finding the Right Tool for the Wrong Situation

Chapter three: Meet your spirit animal, BE your spirit animal

(fair warning, Wind's the viewpoint, he's crude and a sailor)

Wind's grin threatened to lock his jaw muscles into place and he didn't give a shit about it. Their latest portal jumped had dumped them in three feet of salty water and the song of the waves was calling his heart.

Outset Island. Home.  

Wind half-swam, half-ran up the sands of the beach and beckoned the rest of his friends to come over, with a loud 'Come on!'

He couldn't wait to show them his home. Gran would love them and force them to take better care of themselves with her patented 'old lady's guilt tripping'. He couldn't wait to see her use it on the old man. Oh, oh, he could make Twilight wrestle with Mrs. Rose's giant pig. And show the woods on top to Hyrule. At least on this island, they weren't likely to lose him. And Wild would probably love to try the jump of courage on the other side-

“Big brother!”

Wind's heart leaped in his chest, joy warming him at the sight of his little sister running down the dock to greet them.

“Aryll!” he called out, rushing to hug his sister. How long had it been? Weeks now! At least!

“And who's this one?” Wind asked, kneeling to better coo at the seagull in her arms. His sister had tucked a hibiscus in her plumage, on top of her head.

“Her name's Marin.”

Behind them, a cacophony of metal and wood rang out loudly, followed by squawks and yelps. Wind whirled around, ready to draw his sword, only to see that his friends were helping up Wild, who looked like he'd just been pushed, and

Surrounded by the flippers he'd been taking off, Legend rested on his knees, paler than a ghost.

***

Wind… was worried. It wasn't like Legend at all.

Obviously, Warriors had teased him at first, mocking their experienced know-it-all for his two left feet. Right up until the point it became very obvious that this hadn't been a mere accident. Warriors had been equally quick to apologize and back off, but Legend hadn't really spoken to anyone since. Very gently, he'd gone up to Aryll (Wind hadn't placed himself between them, but the desire to had been there) and he'd asked if perhaps he could borrow her friend.

Under their astonished eyes, Legend had then walked up the dock with the seagull in hand and sat next to the tower, facing the sea. He hadn't moved from that spot since. Just one hero and a bird, one silent, the other singing.

“It's okay, Link,” Aryll had told him, “Marin likes him. She only sings when she's happy.”

They'd collectively decided that Legend needed time on his own. Fair enough. But he couldn't help think there was something more to do. However stupid it was, Wind felt a little responsible. This was his home, his timeline-slash-dimension-thingy. Maybe he could have warned him if he hadn't been so excited to show off the island.

He'd gotten to give the tour to the others, at least. Left Warriors at the dojo, Four on the beach looking for seashells, Twilight and Wild at Mrs. Rose's little enclosure ('Whoo! Go, Twilight! Show it who's boss!' 'THAT PIG IS WORSE THAN GANON!'). Sky had found a tree to nap in the shadow. Time had opted to stay on the porch of Wind's home, drinking tea and eating scones with his gran. (He was never living it down, the Links agreed.)

It was nearly as great as he'd imagined.  

Except…

“Still there?” Hyrule asked, following Wind's gaze back to the docks.

“Yup,” Wind grunted. Surely there was something he could try and help Legend out of his funk.

“Do you think he understands her singing? I don't know a spell for it, but it's Legend. Maybe he has a ring for hearing animals' thoughts?”

Possible. But he didn't really react much to Wolfie differently, so… probably not. There was something about that seagull that mattered to him.

He kicked the sand, grumbling. Come on, Link! Think. His mask wouldn't do much except tell Legend how much vitality Marin had (and that felt really counterproductive here). Hyrule didn't have a spell. Twilight only really got the body language. Aryll… eh, his little sister had to be pretending to get their words. No way in hell could she really talk to animals.

Not like he interacted with animals all that much himself. At most, he just found Beedle and…

“Oh, I've got it!”

***

“What do you want?”

“Hey, Legend, look what I got you!”

“A… pear with a screaming face?” It spoke of Legend's unease that the words lacked any acidity, but were merely confused, as if he'd been daydreaming for hours. Scrap that 'if', actually.

“A Hyoi Pear. They're super rare.”

“… I'm not hungry.”

Wind snorted. “Thank fuck, because that'd be really awkward. They're not for eating. Well, not hylian eating at any rate.”

Legend's eyebrow ticked, and his expression nearly resembled its usual self. “Well, thanks for the horrible babble, I'll put it on the chimney back in my world. It should serve as a deterrent to visitors. Or maybe I'll feed it to Ravio.”

Give Wind another fifteen minutes of talking and they'd get their snarky badass back. But it was unlikely the conversation would last this long.

“Oh stop yapping for a minute, you greenlander. I wasn't done talking. The Hyoi Pear allows you to take control of the animal that eats it.”

The seagull's song cut off with a startled screech. Wind had to cover his ears. Ouch.

Legend glared at the fruit, holding a protective hand over Marin. “I'm not-”

“Don't feed it to Marin. Obviously. There's like a metric ton of those winged rats around the place. So, you just need to wear the pear on your head-”

“Okay, now I know you're bullshitting me.”

“I'm serious!” Wind shot back, his face scrunched up in annoyance. “If you put that fruit on your head, it will absorb your thoughts and when a bird eats it, your mind will go inside the bird so you can control it!”

“That's… unexpectedly dangerous, if you ask me.”

“Well, it usually works until something jars you out of it.” Wind shrugged. He'd never had a problem with it, except maybe the guilt of having driven a bird face first into a cliff. “Or the bird shits it out.”

Legend sneered. “Charming.”

“It is what it is. But it's probably better than just whispering all day, if you ask me. So, you want it or not?”

For a moment, Wind almost feared Legend wouldn't. That he'd stay there, glaring at Wind's hand, glaring at the fruit that dared promised such a thing. And then Legend snatched it out of his hand, and near tossed his signature hat aside.

Yup. Wearing a Hyoi Pear really made you look like an idiot. But for once, Wind had zero desire to laugh, at all.

One of Marin's brethren dove straight for Legend's head. In the corner of his eyes, Wind saw Hyrule flinched, itching to protect his fellow hero, but more than that, he saw the tenseness in Legend's body. The hope he held at bay, the fear that this was somehow a prank. That he'd done something he thought of as ridiculous on the blind hope that maybe, maybe this would let him speak to Marin…

Wind whooped when he saw the seagull had taken the bait, and Marin took off after him. She rapidly twirled around the flailing Legend-in-a-bird, chirping softer than a winged rat had any right to do. Soon, she was leading him by the tip of his feathers, playful, gentle. Two old friends in the under the clouds, riding the sea breeze.

“Is he…” Hyrule began, hesitant. “… is he crying?”

Oh, Hylia-damnit! He was so sure that would have helped! Well, nothing to it now. He'd tried.

As he was moving to slap Legend upside the head though, a gentle hand grasp his arm and pulled him back.

“Leave him,” Hyrule said. “You told him how it works. Let him make his decision. Some things… well, you gotta face yourself.”

Wind rubbed the back of his head, a little puzzled. He could get the feeling, but why seagulls? Honestly, they were, at worse, little pests. Not exactly inner demons, right?

But well, Legend appeared alive again for the first time since they'd made it to his home, and that counted for more than a hell lot.

And above, two seagulls danced on the breeze, singing.

BONUS:

Beedle liked heroes. Heroes helped his business stay afloat, as no one else was quite the brand of rich and desperate as an adventurer on a time limit. So they usually didn't mind his gouged out prices so much. Oh, sure, he was the recipient of the stink eye from a little boy in green tunic every so often, but you couldn't be loved by everyone.

The sail clothe that served as his door flapped dramatically, like someone had attempted to kick it down.

Contrarily to his expectations, the person that entered wasn't some burly seven feet tall pirate, but a young man with a kind face and a superbly woven sail wrapped around his shoulders like a cloak.

“Welcome, welcome to Beedle's wandering shop! For your daily travelers' needs.”

The customer smiled pleasantly. “Why, hello. I hear you're the only place in all the great seas where a man can find Hyoi Pears.”

“Ah, you are well-informed.” Beedle rubbed his hands together. Another soul with a desperate need, ready to pay through the nose. “Indeed. Hyoi Pears are very rare and even I only have a limited stock.”

Limited until he found more buyers, of course.

“How many do you have?”

“Oh, for you, sir, I believe I can go up to fifteen.”

“Perfect. Here's all my money.” The adventurer tossed a silver rupee on his counter and leaned forward, a dangerous glean in his eyes. “I want your entire stock.”

“What?!” Beedle jumped in indignation. “Fifteen pears go for one hundred and fifty! Are you trying to bankrupt me?!”

He faced down pirates with bad breathes and more scars than face! Hylia, he sometimes made deals with bokoblins from the great sea! Who did this upstart adventurer think he was dealing with?

A fist slammed against the counter and rattled the very structure of his boat. The man was almost halfway over the counter, his eyes burning. For a second, Beedle feared he understood what demon gods and monsters felt like when staring down the blade of a hero's sword. It was… a certainty… a promise that if you moved the wrong way, you'd find your vital organs in four different locations by the next time you blinked.

“Your. Entire. Stock.”

Beedle squeaked. What in the world was up with this madman that they wanted to control birds so badly?!

“IT'S FOR LOVE!”

DOUBLE BONUS:

“So, Wind, we're very proud of you,” Time said, his face the very picture of neutrality, “Hyrule explained everything. You have shown compassion, kindness and creativity in helping your fellow hero. We couldn't agree more with the principle.”

Wind crossed his arms. “Don't butter me up, old man. Where's the 'but'?”

As one, Time, Hyrule and Four gestured to the beach.

“Last warning, Legend!” Warriors screamed, bolting across the sand whilst a seagull divebombed after him. “If you don't knock it off, I'll start shooting you down with my firerod!”

“Nooooooo!” Aryll screamed from atop the observation tower. “Don't hurt them!”

Wind didn't need to borrow his sister's telescope to see the grimace twisting Warriors' face. Nor any sense enhancement to hear the barely restrained shriek of rage from their captain. Well, at least he was practicing his stamina.

He'd say Sky could use the exercise, but their cloud-headed harpist was sitting on a rooftop and cooing over a few birds of his own.  

“What?” Wind said, digging his heel in the wood of the porch.

“Did you perhaps consider what might happen if you gave Legend the power to control a bird?”

Well, no, but fuck if he was gonna admit that to the others. Besides, it was only a bunch of seagulls. What would they do if the Helmaroc King's chicks showed up? Piss their breeches? No, Wind knew it hadn't been a mistake at all.

Legend, who had until this point been sitting in a meditative pose, dusted off his tunic and stood up.

“Wait,” Hyrule started.

They turned to look at the beach, where, yes, Warriors was still being chased by the seagull, then to Legend, getting back into Wind's house, humming.

Twilight jumped out from behind the corner, eying the sky warily. “It's as we fear, pops,” Twilight said, solemn. “He struck a deal with them.”

The seagulls cackled.

Okay, so maybe he was gonna hide the Hyoi Pears from Legend till they swapped worlds again.

#Linkeduniverse #Linked Universe #LU Wind #LU Legend #RO:ART

[grecoisms]

title: so eden sank to grief [1/2]

fandom: xiaolin showdown

summary: 

“Chase Young was once training to be a Dragon of Fire. Kimiko tries to make amends.”

Come slowly—Eden Lips unused to thee Bashful—sip thy jasmines As the fainting bee.

i.

She is not yet nine when her father makes her sit down before - no, not next to - him, and not quite daring to meet her eyes, says:

"Kimiko, your mother has died."

As most children do not, she understands the definition of death - it is a sort of passing. And as most girls do, she is the cruelest to herself.

Thus she crosses her small arms and forces herself to be brave. Her voice is a tad bit louder than the usual;

"How?"

Tohomiko Toshiro looks at this strange child whom he does not feel being his own at all. She is tactless and wants to have everything.

Too much wildfire, is what this girl is - an emotional bomb, ticking to explode. Already burning herself up.

"My dear" the father says. For a moment, he cannot recall her name. "She killed herself."

Kimiko orders herself not to cry.

ii.

It is a relief, a redemption to leave the paternal house at the age of thirteen. Tokyo is suffocating - her father distant; her private school a prison. The fire in her soul hums low, starving - striving for a real family.

And this is what Kimiko finds;

The bond is not based on blood, but loyalty. It is but formed on one house and one greater purpose, heroic and ironic by any other name. She finds joy and she finds family, and these two somehow connect - cause and consequence - and Kimiko laughs and cries and feels more than she has since forever. She shapes herself and loves her siblings that are not of blood.

Clay, the ever-tower, firm and calm and her constant.

Raimundo, the light-hearted rebel; her first sweetheart.

Omi, the one who asks and answers his questions and others' too, always searching for parts of himself in the sharpest of shards. Even when very young, he is conscious of his place as a chosen oddity.

They all have their faults - and she loves them for these, truly.

iii.

Again, this is an old tale - perhaps the oldest there is -, but the girl falls for a boy. The daughter of fire thinks she loves the son of air, Raimundo with his tanned face and light eyes and his treacherous, endless heart. And when Rai leaves with and for Wuya, the witch from an older time, an evil time - only and only then, Kimiko does weep. Mostly without shame.

Raimundo arrives home in the first day of autumn, when the leaves are turning yellow and nature is turning towards rest. Although only a year older than Clay, he looks weary and somehow ragged and much, much older than his fifteen years.

When he reaches the gates of the temple, he holds his hands up high; a sign of surrender. His fingers are coated with blood, flashing brown under the sinking sun. His hands are empty. So are his hopes.

"Please" he pleads.

Clay wastes no time to hug him while Omi bows and accepts. But Rai is looking to catch her eyes, both desperate and daring, and she should love him as in the tales, yet she turns her face away.

Betrayal for a betrayal. Measure for measure.

Kimiko, under all that makeup, is still a child.

iv.

Omi turns fifteen in the summer Kimiko celebrates her sixteenth birthday. But unlike her clumsy attempts, Omi has territfying strength. And like her, he has a pride to match it.

The seas and the rivers and most people they meet along their travels adorn and bow before his every step. The rest of them, the three other monks, are well aware just how minuscule their roles are compared to the youngest among them. Yes, people respect him. Think him a legend.

But they are the ones who protect and tend for him, careful and watchful and loving.

It is such a long fall, Rai confesses to her one day, that dreamlike summer Omi turns fifteen. He is somber, a rarity. An easy fall. Easiest there is. Here I am, struggling to become an Apprentice while you are already on the way to becoming actual dragons, all because I was too cheap to resist temptation. And now I am here, always falling behind.

Behind them, Clay is teaching Omi the basics of playing the guitar. Dojo is there too, to argue, and be bossy. The air is light and the smell of the sun blinds the shadows on the ground.

Kimiko will remember Rai's words for a long time.

v.

Indeed, she will remember, for from the myriad of people they encounter, one man - half-beast, half-human - stands out, dark as the promise of death. His name is Chase Young.

And Kimiko can almost taste the longing in his eyes; not for Omi himself, but rather, the potential he represents. Chase Young is infinitely proud and endlessly jealous, a reflection of Omi by a thread.

"He used to be a monk too. A pure soul." chides Master Fung. Omi and Clay nod.

But Rai and Kim know way too much about temptation to put a good face on. To let this slide. They are well aware just how much pride cost and how heavy the price for ambition. They can see right through Chase Young, straight into his old and black heart. Dry as shriveled leaves.

Rai knows this. He lived and fought and paid the prices, thrice, for his mistakes.

And Kimiko has long learned this lesson, this lesson of pride, simply through experiencing these falls through the other eyes and skins of the other monks.

Fire, after all, feeds on and from the other three elements.

vi.

Upon realizing Omi would never join the Heylin, Chase - this thing wearing the mask of a young man - simply vanishes.

And thus, the four of them grow in strength and beauty, and the years pass like seconds. Courage in their hands, hope in their hearts.

Fools, all of them.

Shaolin apprenticeship requires purity in the form of celibacy and so they deny themselves the means of physical love. It is an abstract, a passive way of life, something Kimiko would scorn were it not for the fact that the boys she is living with are siblings to her, and it is enough. It is everything.

Still, still. She catches Rai's eyes sometimes, in the early mornings when they can't quite control where their eyes shift. His expression is shy and open at once, all yearning.

Kimiko has forgiven him a thousand times and back again.

Still. She pretends she does not notice.

vii.

Not long after turning eighteen, on the brink of winter, Master Monk Guan requests their presence at the Northern Shaolin Monastery, to allegedly aid the residents fix the bell tower. Omi and Rai are very excited - they had not seen Guan for years now, and idealism still runs strong in both their veins. It makes Clay chuckle and Kim roll her eyes fondly. Some things do not change, even with time.

Dojo takes more time than usual. Even dragons grow old and Dojo is Dashi's age, older than Guan himself. So when they begin to ascend with a speed like none before, the monks know it is not accident or Dojo's will that pushes them to fall into the thick depth of the Lulang forest.

Scrambling to their feet is not easy while having a moutful and handful of dirt - Omi is the first to manage, but Clay is the one who begins speaking.

"Was that good old Jack?"

Then a voice, low and polite and more of a hiss, behind her, but in front of the boys.

"Please, do not jest."

Of course.

Omi is dumbstruck and Rai's scowl is a surly sight. Kimiko doesn't have to turn around to know who is behind her.

"I only wish to talk with one of my long lost apprentice here." How it resembles a soft symphony, this voice. Like a reassurance.

She only dares to turn around slowly, as if calculated.

Although he is stroking Dojo's head gently, the dragon goes rigid - the terror is apparent in their eyes. Kimiko knows well that Chase wants them to witness this mock-gesture. For him, their dragon owes up to a three-course meal and a nicely-shaped dessert. How many years has it been since that? Thousand and five-hundred?

"I am not your apprentice." snaps Omi with a great deal of condescension.

"Get away from our dragon, Mister" Clay's voice is polite, but his hands on his lasso on his side.

The closest standing to the warlord is Kimiko. Chase is standing but five feet away from her, but she is strangely void of fear. A challenge, a revolt. He is somehow greater than her, much taller and wider, all the armor and the ambition feeding him since centuries. His face is proud, vanity clear on the sharp angles near his mouth and she could not remember his hair being this long, this shining. It falls down like a regal mantle on his shoulders, till his narrow waist and sturdy hips.

He is truly beautiful. Deadly, with a terrible, black heart.

She has a terrible feeling, one that fumbles in her throat and struggles to pries open her mouth. With great difficulty, she resists the urge to lick her lips - to lick his, a voice whispers but she shuts it out. Instead, Kimiko bites her tongue. Blood oozes in and it tastes morbid and metallic. Good. This will sober her up.

Meanwhile, Chase's gaze grazes the boys - her boys, her blood - who all turned strong and stately yet remained stubborn. He even bows a bit towards Omi, as if submitting. But this is a lie. Young bows to no one.

Then, if it is possible, Rai grimace is worsening by each minute they spend here. Chase smiles his predatory and his bitter smile, sudden and pearl-white and harsh. The hole where her heart is grows narrow and all too small as this mythical nobody (he, after all, changes his names as his skin) looks directly ahead and drinks in the sight of her. 

She is next and she knows herself. Knows him as well, how she might look through his eyes.

Small but strong, Kimiko has grown proportionately, her eyes the ocean, her lips the hue of blood. She has grown out her hair and dyed it not and put on no wigs to cover. Facade-free, Kimiko beams internally for she is exactly aware just how beauty born and bred she is, knows this from the faded photos of her parents that are ill-bound as of today.

It has been more than five years since they met. And she is a child no more. She is not afraid.

Yet when he looks (really, truly, genuinely stares into her eyes), she trembles.

His face is taken aback in his own manner. There is a certain softness passing over his expression now, the reptilian pupils grow dark and unfocused. And Kimiko's insides jump and there is something ancient and primal pooling down her stomach and through the vertebrae of her spine too. It makes her head spin and her breath hitch and she is getting lost and surely, if she would step anywhere now, she would stumble and fall. And oh. He trembles too, slightly, solemnly, subtly. Not of fear, and matching her tremors.

Oh.

It is such a long, long fall.

So this is what desire is.

Dissecting yourself alive.

viii.

"I have an urgent matter to discuss with Guan." As if hours or days passed between the previous sentence uttered. "It would be a verbal spar exclusively, I assure you."

Chase is acting nonchalant again by wearing the mask of total impassivity. Kimiko has never resented him more.

"Come with us to the temple then" her temper flares, wanting none of his bullshit. Fire is impatient and does not bear deferment easily.

Then she looks at the others, her boys. All of them are gaping at her.

"What?"

"Kim!"

"Helloooo" waves Rai. "He is E-N-E-M-Y. Gonna throw us off our own dragon at the first possible chance."

"I can wait for him here, palermo" Chase's laugh is silent. "Lest you die from fright."

Kimiko tears herself away from the sight of his mouth

Which turns out to be a grave mistake. Not even a second passes and the warlord is already heading towards Omi.

Immediately, Kimiko spins around and blocks his way. Behind her, Rai unsheathes his sword. The sound it makes is flat like a caress. They have long learned to fight as if making love.

"No" she prides on her voice to be strong and unwavering. "You cannot talk to him. At all."

Chase has to lean forward to be able to properly face her. He smells of smoke and blood and something utterly cold; the bronze tint of his shielding plate hurts her eyes, but she wills herself not to blink. Ultimately, this is a survey of power, a battle of discipline.

"Tohomiko" he murmurs. There is a clear crack in his mask now which can be clearly heard in his voice. "Your licence is not needed."

It is the exact moment Clay chooses. With an unnaturally blunt force, he reaches them, slamming himself into Chase who seemingly begins to roll, but is actually drawing the Dragon of Earth with him. Then, the nauseating sound of a bone or two breaking.

Clay bellows.

ix.

"Enough" screams both Omi and Kimiko. A great gust of wind mutes them - Rai has called his element for help and the trees crack under the boy's effort.

Not wasting any time, the tibetan monk launches himself to grab Chase by his hair, but he throws him over effortlessly, right onto Raimundo's face who swears something in Portuguese.

Kimiko jumps over both of them, at the collar of the armour, the other near Chase's face. The fabric of the cuirass starts to smoke at once. This is no threat, but direct action. It could easily melt too. The Star of Hanabi twinkles around her neck, pulses like a second heart and makes her hands too hot to touch.

"Enough" she repeats. She has become softer too, somehow more tender. Chase has a shadow of a smile playing around his lips, feral and full of scorn. 

"Come to the temple, if you only wish to talk."

He shrugs his shoulders, an action much too light juxtaposing his expression. There are infinite depths to him. Then. He places his hands on hers but does not clutch. It is far from a violent move; it is just sudden. Lovely. Intimate. An alarm, shrill and shrewd, goes off in her head. But she doesn't let go.

Even through his gloves he is tangibly cold.

"If I go to Guan's temple, I will die." his eyes are shockingly yellow and not humane at all. This should scare her.

"Don't be dramatic" Rai sounds astounded as he helps Omi up. He adds, "Asshole."

"Yes. Guan would not hurt you" adds Omi. "Not a single skin on your hair."

"Hair on your head" this is from Clay, a muffled grunt behind the boy duo.

Chase stares at their group, all dirty from wallowing on the ground and hoarse from screaming. And he begins to laugh. It is more of a snarl - his canines are way too sharp. And he still hasn't moved his hands away.

This is a dream, decides Kimiko, I have eaten too much strawberries before dinner and now I have kamikazecrazy delusions in my bed. And: Omiwill wake me up soon.

Instead, the dragonlord cuts her narrative. Back to reality.

"The place itself is too cold for me." he explains, slow and languid. There is a lightness at the edges. He finds this - them - amusing. "It is far too high, above the valleys. Unlike your temple."

"Pneumonia?" guesses Omi.

"Acrophobia?" suggests Clay.

"Your heart" Kimiko whispers, dawning on her. "Your heart would stop. You are half-reptile."

Chase catches her gaze.

"Dragon."

She snorts.

"Whatever."

x.

While Omi and Clay go to find and bring Monk Guan with them dragonbound, it is Rai's and Kim's responsibility to guard Chase Young. It feels ridiculous.

They are eyeing each other silently, all peril, if it comes to that.

Or rather.

The boy watches the girl, the girl watches the creature. The man.

"I don't like this at all, Kim." Rai stands very close to her and his voice is low and careful. "We both know that even if he came with peace now, it is all part of a bigger and definitely bad plan."

Yes, reckons Kimiko, observing this pale face, and dark hair. She reaches for Rai's hand, squeezes it as if to collect courage. Despite Master Fung's and Omi's optimism, this fair face hides impure intentions.

It pains her that she needs to remind herself.

#xiaolin showdown #xs #writings #chase young #kimiko tohomiko #clay bailey #Raimundo Pedrosa #omi