Tempest
"Darkness Compassion"
-DCJC-
Jack Spicer/Original Character
The First Prologue
-DCJC-
Cass Hexdrake had never been one to be superficial. She had always been just the opposite, but when her last boyfriend, Skyler Triarch, had broken up with her to catch the eye of a more 'popular' girl, she was furious. Furious and heartbroken to such an extent to travel to the pub in the town of Triangle, California.
This changed Earth was satisfactory to her.She was a psychic combatant, with some elemental skills to go with the saber sheathed across her back in a rawhide scabbard. This was for a certain attack that she could execute that went along with a curse that the enemy could either A)solve the riddle that was provided when it was cast; or B)get consumed by the forces of Hades and be forced to endure the torture of Tartarus for all eternity. Hopefully, whoever the enemy was would be fortunate to discern the former... or quite bluntly, he or she was S.O.L.
This changed Earth was instantly changed when the forces of evil was overcome by the forces of good. In short, the Xiaolin Dragons, with the help of their Shen Gong Wu, defeated the Heylin warriors. In that last and final Showdown, Omi, the Water Dragon, had defeated Chase Young, the Heylin side's fiercest warrior. In this altered planet, people were allowed to walk around with swords and heraldry shields, by the Xiaolin Dragons' command. They couldn't let anymore evil float around the cosmos, so letting everybody whom they thought were incapable of evildoing were allowed to wield metal weaponry. Cass just happened to be one of these people, and she was very sated by this change, so to speak.
Cass was only sixteen, and venturing into a pub only to drink Green Tea was a feat to her, seeing as she was tough and was very feared throughout her high school. Even when she was passing some people in the school, it amused her when she faked hitting somebody in the face, then they would back up in cowardice. It not only amused her greatly, but it also bemused her, for her main belief was in courage, since she was unable to believe in anything else.
Shoulder-length, dark-brown hair with black tips framed features of pulchritude. A neatly-chiseled face adorned with full, sensual lips and a genetically-small nose was one of her beauties. Her pale, ivory skin looked creamy when she apathetically looked over the interior and patrons of the pub as she walked in. Her emotionless, but still beautiful hazel eyes scanned the room for anything of interest. After finding none, she let out a nearly inaudible, "Meh." She was wearing a black thermal, a white corset, which compressed her already-slender body even more so, black, skinny jeans, which also compressed her, showing the outline of slim, toned legs and black Chuck Taylor's that had little white skulls on them. She looked compelling, even with her slightly frightening attire.
She took a seat in a booth, brushing a stray hair away from her face. Her lackadaisical entrance had sparked a few intrigued looks, but once seeing the innocence of her face, the patrons' sudden interest dissipated completely. A male bartender came to her booth, asking what poison she desired. He had short, brown hair and dark, brown eyes.
"A bottle of Green Tea with a napkin or two is all I wish for." That and death to superficiality, but your position as a bartender probably can't exactly attain that... she mused.
A few minutes later, the beverage and napkins were delivered to her. She thanked the bartender, gave him the money and then the tip. Then she pulled out a sketch pad and began drawing characters from some other original fictions.
Before long, it was twilight, and regulars began filing in. She sat there quietly, minding her own business, taking a sip from her tea occasionally. She set her green, mechanical pencil and sketchpad down as someone who was anything but regular walked nonchalantly through the open tavern door.
He looked about seventeen, and his stride and expression explicitly portrayed arrogance. His hair was stick-straight, sanguine-red and base-of-neck-length. His eyes were the same color, unusually crimson. Lining his eyes and trailing lines from his eyes was jet-black eyeliner. In his hair were goggles with light-orange-hued lenses, but the band that held the sides together were buried in his unruly hair. His wiry body was sheathed in black, baggy clothing. His trench coat extended about two or three inches from his knees. His baggy jeans were close-fitting at the hips but very wide-legged as they began to trail down his long legs.Leather boots with a golden band across the ankle covered his feet. He was carrying the Shroud of Shadows across his shoulder, his left, fingerless-gloved hand clutching it loosely. The other was buried in one of his trench coat pockets. Forming an 'X' across his chest were two backpack straps, which obviously held a jet pack. Where the two straps intersected, a skull was placed.
Cass's eyes looked at him in confusion as she recognized him mentally. Jack Spicer? What the hell's he doing here?
The pending Jack Spicer sat down at a barstool. The bartender walked in front of him and said, "Hello, sir. What can I get you?" The bartender evidently didn't know who he was.
"I'll take non-alcoholic margarita mix, thank you," he replied, not making eye contact with him. He sat there and pulled out a blueprint sheet for something that Cass couldn't make out from where she was sitting.
A burly man with barely any neck and a nearly purple face walked over to where 'Jack' was sitting. After he got the red-haired boy's attention, he said in a deep, threatening voice. "Jack Spicer. Didn't think we'd see you here again. Didn't your evil plot to take over the world work?" Raucous laughter from where he came from erupted, making Jack (and Cass) wince.
Another man, equally as stocky as the first one came over to where Jack was sitting. "Yeah, Jack. How can you even have the nerve to show up here in Triangle again? After the Xiaolin Dragons defeated you Heylin warriors, we never thought we'd even see your kind again."
Hearing 'your kind' made Cass feel sort of sorry for Jack. It hadn't dawned on her to think of empathy and how Jack had taken it, seeing Wuya and Chase Young go. He was probably heartbroken (but because of basic male arrogance, he probably just converted it into apathy), as well as being more alone in this world than she could imagine.
The two men at the silent boy-genius's barstool began to ridicule Jack more. And more. And more. Jack just sat there, submissively taking these insults like he were actually used to it.
"We've got a Chosen Warrior in this bar, Spicer," the first man said, motioning to Cass, who immediately turned back to her artwork. "So you might as well not try anything cute."
Jack looked over at Cass's booth and saw her busily working away on something that seemed to be a sketchpad of artwork that she had been working on ever since she had gotten here. A female Chosen Warrior? So young? She looks young enough for me to date her... He mentally slapped himself. Did I just think that? How can I think about dating at a time like this? He took one last glance at her. She IS really pretty, though... She has that sword across her back, and that adds to her beauty... I wonder if she'll help me get out of this predicament...
After he turned away from her, Cass looked back instantly. She had a slight blush to her face now, since she had telepathically read his mind. He had debated on whether he should date her or not! She still continued to look at him sympathetically, though. Those two men were really giving him a verbal beating that should be stopped. Jack had even looked back over at her and gave her a pleading look, and she gave him a sympathetic look back..
Just before Cass had gotten up to walk over there and start defending him, one of the stocky men threw a punch to Jack's face and sent him reeling from his seat. Both of the men laughed as one picked up his blueprint sheet, crumpled it up and threw it over his shoulder as he left. Wide-eyed, Cass ran over to aid Jack, unsheathed her blade and pointed it threateningly at the retreating backs of the men.
"Why don't you pick on somebody your own size, urchins?" she asked them nastily, holding her saber out at arm's-length. "This gentleman obviously had no way to protect himself from that blow, so wouldn't that make you two cowards?"
Both of them turned around to the Chosen Protector with their eyes on her large blade. "Look, he's evil! Jack Spicer! He deserved a good ass-whooping."
Kneeling down to lift Jack up by his neck to check out his wound, she frowned and turned back to the two men. "He was already defeated by the Xiaolin Dragons! Isn't that punishment enough?" She took out a handkerchief from her pocket and dabbed it at the wounded boy's infliction, who looked up all starry-eyed at her. "I think he's gotten what he's deserved... don't you?" She glared daggers at the two men, which was more than enough to get them to back off. After that, she turned her full attention to Jack, who was lying limply on the floor, his nose bleeding from the blow he had been given. "Oh, Jack..."
Realizing he had been staring at her, like a starry-eyed teenager, he turned his head away. "I don't need any help!" He then got up, activated his Heli-Pack, then said before he left, "If I had my Jack-bots, I could've easily gotten out of that problem!"
Flying out of the bar at a slightly desperate speed, Jack's hands trembling around the controls.
He couldn't help but think that maybe there was a small shred of hope in this world for him. That chick treated me like a... person, not some evil-genius has-been... He wiped his nose, some blood coming off from when that big fat-ass had punched him. He winced and wished he had that handkerchief that Cass had been using to dab away the excess sanguine fluid. But from the way I 'thanked' her, she probably hates my guts... I mean, damn my arrogance! That sentence was a bit incessant in the first place... My Jack-bots probably couldn't take those guys anyway... He growled in frustration. Why can't I, Jack Spicer, evil boy genius, ever do anything right? I mean, I probably made the one girl that I could... could... He couldn't bring himself to say it. It was as dubious to him as a palooka defeating the most powerful warrior in a battle of physical combat. That chick was an anomaly on this planet... She believes in giving an evil-doer a second chance at being something legit... Even one that's so profound an evil like me. He turned his head away in disgust at that thought, as he descended upon his parent's home, where his laboratory was located. "Damn, two-bit house..."
Digging in his trench coat pocket, he realized his blueprint sheet for his newest prototype was missing. Damn it! Probably left it at the pub... And the worst part is, that was my only copy... He clenched his gloved fists tightly. The mental image of one of the fat-asses taking it, crumpling it up and throwing it over his slumping shoulder replayed in his mind. Damn it! That fricken retard! He ruined the only chance at recreating myself in this world! ...Oh, well. I'll retrieve it from the pub and get to working on another copy, as well as another so if I lose this next one, it won't matter as much...
Activating the Heli-Pack once again, he ascended into the air and started moving back towards the Triangle Tavern.
-DCJC-
Twenty minutes later, he arrived there. Everything seemed in shambles. Cadavers were lying on the floor in pools of blood and all their throats were slit. They were namely in that little group that those two burly men had come from earlier. The bartender still seemed to be there, working as if not even realizing that something such as this happened. The girl that had helped him earlier wasn't there, even though he wanted her to be. Walking to the counter and sitting down in a barstool, he asked, "Erm, Mr. Bartender, sir... what happened?"
Turning around, the brown-haired bartender said, "Nothing of any real importance. You remember that Chosen Protector girl that was here, right? Well, she delivered all this damage to these people, because they had injured you." He continued cleaning the countertop.
"Well, only one had hit me, though..."
"But, all of them were going along with your ridicule, and that's mental and emotional harm."
"But, she barely knew who I was... Why would she protect and avenge me like that?"
"I guess she saw a beauty in you somehow."
Got that right. "Well, have you seen a little, crumpled-up blueprints sheet around here? I can't seem to find it, and this is where I had indiligently left it..."
"That girl had walked out of here with something that resembled a blueprints sheet, then stormed out angrily... Why, do you positively need it?"
"Well, yes, that could be the next chapter of my boy-genius life... if I lose that, then all hope is unrediscoverable..."
"I'd recommend visiting that Chosen Protector's house, then, if you absolutely need it back..." he implied, attempting to get baked-on ketchup off the counter with a scrub-brush. "I don't know where she lives exactly, but... it's up to you..."
Without another word, Jack ran out of the pub as fast as his sheathed legs could carry him.
"Excuse me, ma'am..." he said to an elderly lady. "Do you know where a girl this high," he put a hand to his neck. "Has dark brown hair with black tips, and has a sword across her back lives?"
The elderly woman looked at him wide-eyed, then took out her pepper spray and aimed precisely at his face. "Don't make me use this!" She held her purse protectively against her body with her other hand.
Jack's eyes narrowed in annoyance. Then he started flailing his arms. "Why does everybody always do that?" Her reaction to that was spraying him in the face with the painful aerosol. "OWWWWW!" She walked away as fast as her cellulite-ridden legs could carry her, while he crumpled to the ground, rubbing his eyes. "Lady! Damn you old ladies with your pepper spray! Gah!"
After fully recovering from that attack, he stood up, still rubbing his red eyes slightly (which were now bloodshot), and continued on walking along the path. He was brought to a thrift store, were a lady with black, curly hair, a mole above her upper lip and dressed in gypsy-clothes sold miscellany.
Gold bangles jangled on her wrists as she bent over the counter to place her cleft chin over her folded fingers. "What may I help ye with, laddie?"
Jack blinked. A Scottish gypsy? That's something you don't see everyday... Judging by her appearance, it's something you wouldn't want to see everyday... "Erm, yes, I'm looking for a girl that comes up to about my chin, has dark-brown hair with black tips and carries a sword sheathed across her back?"
"Ye mean the Chosen Protector around this place? Why, I've known her since she was a wee bairn!" Her brown/grey eyes sparkled as she recalled memories. "Ah, I know why ye seek her... Ye've fallen in love with her! Have ye no'?"
Jack's otherwise pale cheeks stained with crimson. "I haven't fallen for her! She has something of mine and I want her to give it back!"
"Yer heart?"
"NO!" Jack was fuming now, his temper's fuse burning fast. "She has a blueprints sheet that I forgot at the pub and I need that to start something new in my life."
"Well, I dinna know. Excuse me personaliteh... I like to jump to conclusions..." She smiled warmly. "So ye doona like her in any way?"
"Well, I like the fact that she killed some people to avenge my bleeding nose and that she can see beauty in a boy-genius has-been..." he trailed off. "But there's no other reason why I should date her!"
The gypsy blinked. "Well, apparently, she likes ye. I would give her at least a chance... Jack Spicer, ye may no' realize it, but she is a very rare kind in this world... A true anomaly! But, o' course, ye need to find that out fer yerself. She lives in a one-story, red house in the heart o' the town..."
With that sentence, he was out of there after saying, "Thanks, lady!"
A red house in the heart of the town? Huh...
-DCJC-
Cass Hexdrake sat alone in her room. Her sword was mounted on a display on one of her painted-green walls. She was sitting on her queen-sized, green-bedding, ornamented-post bed. A TV was put to the left side of her bed for easy viewing. An alarm clock/CD player was also on the stand the television was set upon. It read '8:46 P.M.' A desktop computer on a wooden desk made a spectacle of the room, since it was green and had a screensaver of a hexagram on. Blue carpet bedecked the entire room, and clashed with the green everything else was. Going up the step, you'd find a white chest of drawers, a white dresser and a few posters dispersed across the room. Her music collection was most impressive. You would find everything that ranged from 'Beethoven's Greatest Sonatas' to an Acid Bath "Screams of a Butterfly" single to Alan Jackson's "Everything I Love" CD in her massive music collection
Jack's blueprints sheet was on the computer desk, as perfect as she could uncrumple it to give back to the red-haired boy genius. She lied down on the bed, musing of ways to get out of the predicament she put herself into. She had killed that whole clique of stocky men just to avenge Jack. The blood-stained saber still hung on the wall, shining even through its profound sanguine coating. She grimaced just looking at it. She had slit all their throats... She hoped Jack didn't go back to the pub to reclaim his lost blueprints. That might really piss him off.
She didn't know what to do now...
Wait.
What was that?
A knock at the window.
She spun around on her bed, opened her green-hued curtains and saw Jack Spicer plop down on the ground after turning his Heli-Pack off. She blinked, then opened the window. "Jack? What are you doing here?"
"I'm here to get my blueprints after you took them."
She let him in through the window, closing it after he got in so no bugs would get in. "Well, I just wanted them to be in good hands after what that fat-ass did to it... I ironed it out so it wouldn't be so... crumply."
Plopping down on the computer desk's swivel chair, he picked up the blueprints sheet that was now stick-straight. Possibly even straighter than before those idiots had desecrated it so. "Look, Dollface, ya got a name?"
"Yes. Cass Hexdrake. Chosen Protector."
"Well, Cass..." He set it back down on the keyboard, then said, "Thank you... I guess..."
Eyeing the red-haired boy peculiarly, she asked, "Well? You've got what you wanted... or isn't that why you're here?"
"No. Well, sorta, but not entirely. I wanted to ask you why you killed all those men that had been in that posse. Why would you do something so... so..."
"Irrational? Stupid? Fricken crazy?"
"No..." he gulped. "Nice."
Nice? "What do you mean, nice? A lot of families will go without their husbands now because of my stupid actions."
"Those stupid actions avenged me!" he screeched, flailing his arms. "Do you know how many people ridicule me in a day? Do you know how much therapy I've had to go through just so I don't commit anything drastic? Do you know how many times I've faltered in an experiment? Do you know how many times I've wished I could just say, 'Fuck life', but am too afraid to go through with it?" He stood up and pointed a finger at her, not finished with his outburst. "Do you know how many times I've wished I had somebody to hold me and tell me everything's all right? And do you know how many times today I've wished that were you?!" Hot tears were falling down his cheeks, smearing his eyeliner. His legs grew weak, and soon, he was on his knees, crying his eyes out as if nobody were there to watch him.
Cass licked her lips and got down on her knees to attempt comforting the boy. He melted into the hug she gave him and just cried on her shoulder. She was desperate in trying to comfort the boy; kissing his forehead, stroking his hair, whispering consoling little nothings in his ear... She was really going all-out in consoling the hysterical boy genius. After five minutes, he was silent, being rocked in her arms like a little baby. One question burned in her mind, So what does this all mean? She hadn't a clue, but she ached for something more... She just didn't know if he was capable of giving it to her.
Jack was an eccentric fellow. An apathetic facade covers a soul who really thirsts for affection. To him, this was heaven, being in the arms of the girl he really, truly wanted. She had done everything in her power to comfort him, but would she do everything in her power to love him and protect him? Even with basic, male arrogance, he still would admit he couldn't make it in the world on his own. Wuya was a once-living example of this. He needed somebody at his side to completely support his dead weight. He just hoped Cass would be enough to fill those shoes.
But could she love him?
She certainly seemed capable. Avenging him with the deaths of about ten middle-aged men was a pretty clear example that she was able to protect him. Seeing a beauty in him that virtually nobody else could was also a very explicit example of her compassion towards anti-superficiality. She clearly hated it with a passion.
But could she love him?
That question seemed to echo in his mind perpetually for about ten minutes. It irked him, that he was too afraid to find out. He'd have to muster up all his courage to just tell her of his feelings for her.
Damn me! Why do I have to be so chicken-shit?
She was still stroking his hair and occasionally kissing his forehead. Somehow, they had even backed up to the side of the bed. Why weren't they on the bed, though? Yet another reason why he was hesitant about professing himself to her.
Wait... didn't somebody say she was a psychic combatant? If she's a psychic combatant, then wouldn't she have telepathic powers? Of course she would! I'm so stupid. She's probably read my mind already and is laughing mentally on how chicken-shit I am... Damn me...
But what if she wasn't? Puh... if she wasn't, she would've asked me by now, wouldn't have she? This is too damned confusing...
He felt her bring them both onto the bed, then crawled over to the bedpost, him following suit.
We're on the bed, now... Well, that makes things a little bit better for me... I should ask her now...
"Cass?"
She looked at him questioningly. "What?"
That look tore holes in his heart. Aw, screw it!
Since he hadn't completely crawled over to the bedpost yet (and since he was right in front of her), he straddled her lap and gently kissed her on the lips. She jumped at his sudden move, but melted into it almost right away. Her lips' caress answered all of Jack's questions about 'But could she love?'. It was all the answer he needed. He suddenly cursed his position on her. He was straddling her lap, for crying out loud! Kicking off his boots so the soles wouldn't dirty the bedding, he stopped kissing her for a second to reposition himself and to readjust her so he was on top, he once again initiated a sweet kiss.
Her hands trailed up his back and buried themselves in his hair after taking those goggles off. They were thrown on the computer desk. Jack paid no-nevermind to this, however. He was too preoccupied. Cass deepened the kiss a little to intensify emotions of compassion, and the red-haired boy definitely made no protest, as now, their mouths were open, and he could slip his tongue in there with one fluid movement. He didn't want to spoil the sweetness and love of the caress of her lips, however, for they were much too sensual just to be put aside like that so he could go on with his own primal desire. No, he was wiser than that. Or so he thought.
She has a beautiful body... a beautiful face... Jack mused, sliding one hand down her clothed bodice as he sat her up again and straddled her lap to start to remove that corset. I want to know every inch of it... He licked his lips, giving her a look of confirmation to do what he desired right now. She nodded in return, giving him a look of fierce want of her own. He blinked, smirked, then continued to work on that tied-up corset, wondering how one could get into one of those things.
About five minutes later, he finally got everything untied and was ready to rumble, now. The corset flew off in a random direction, something being knocked over two seconds later.
Catching her lips again, he felt the soft embrace of her gentle, warm lips. Running his hand down the right side of her bodice again, he slipped his tongue through her sensual kissers and after their tongues found each other, they began massaging each other with such a passion, such a sweetness, it made Cass's legs turn to jelly.
Good thing he has me on the bed. If he had me standing up, I would probably fall to my knees, even though he probably wouldn't object... she moaned euphorically into Jack's mouth and at his tongue's touch, it left her speechless. Sure, she had French-kissed somebody before, but never as intense and passionate as this. It was a milestone in her kissing career.
Jack unhooked the two sides of his skull clip that held together his Helipack. He lightly dropped it to the floor to begin working on the buttons of his black trench coat. That fell to the floor as well, over the Helipack to reveal a black, compressing, button-down shirt, while still keeping her lips in captivity (with no protest from her, however).
Pushing him off of her for a second to reposition herself, she took his shoulders, slammed him down on the bed, sliding her thermal over the top of her head so he could get a nice, full view of her cleavage and abdomen.She had been wearing a black, lace brazier under that warm thermal, and that turned Jack on tenfold, no nevermind that she sitting astride his hips. She had slammed him down so that he was lying down, his head on the sheathed-in-green pillow. Unbuttoning his shirt to reveal the pale , creamy skin of his chest, she threw the article of clothing onto the rest of his stuff. Pressing her bodice up against him, she began kissing his neck with desire, running one hand down his body and using the other to run through his soft, crimson hair. He mewed in pleasure, closing his eyes tightly, running his hands over the bare, lower part of her back, trailing up it to find the hooks of her brazier.
She lifted her head to look at him. She said, "Don't, Jack... not tonight..."
He blinked, sighing in exasperation inside."I respect your decision." But it's a dumb one! Getting me all riled up so you can tell me 'NOT TONIGHT!' Jeez, woman! Get your priorities straight!
She gave him an apologetic look. "It's for the best... I mean, we've just met..."
And went this far.
"Yes, I know... I can feel your eagerness... but, I want to wait at least until I know you better."
Crimson stained his cheeks. She can feel that through the thick material of my pants and boxers? Damn. Blinking again, he reached up to capture her lips again in a sweet embrace, feeling rapture from that small of an intimacy. Breaking it, he began stroking her hair in a loving fashion.
Peeling herself off of Jack and lying down to the right of him, she slid her arms around his waist, him following suit when they met at the lips for another passionate kiss, grinding their hips into each other occasionally.
Their sleeping position was faces so close, they were almost touching, legs intertwined and arms embracing each other. Even their dreams were intoxicated with their newly-acquired love; mental imagery of their making love without actually physically engaging in coition, or having to remove any remaining undergarments.
They looked so peaceful, just sleeping there without any other care in the world except for themselves. That care in itself, to them, was perpetually profound.
-DCJC-
Come morning, Jack was the first to awaken. He found himself in the arms of the girl that he could see himself with. He had not only had an emotional breakdown in front of her, but he had also gotten to first base with her. He knew he wasn't just a notch in her bedpost. He had gotten his answer for 'But could she love?' last night. That was more than enough to annihilate all of Jack's disbeliefs.
Not only was she emotionally able, but physically wasn't so bad either. She had abnormal hair, gorgeous, hazel eyes and a body that was to die for... He wanted to know every single inch of it, but that didn't even scratch the surface upon what he felt for her. She had lent a sympathetic ear to him when he was experiencing his breakdown. She consoled him like her own son and cradled him in her arms like an infant, just to make him feel better. She had even gone out of her way to whisper verbose consolations into his ear. Truly, she was an anomaly of this planet, being so kind and not at all conceited when she had everything to be conceited for.
To turn her attention to his self-proclaimed scumness was also another factor, as was her selfless killing to avenge his bloody nose. That sort of confused him, though. Those fat-asses were a bit of a waste of carbon and time, but killing them just because one of them hit him was a bit incessant. However, it was the thought that counts, and her kindness -towards him- was enough to make a spectacle.
His heart skipped a beat in ecstasy when he thought about the near future, with her. Apparently, love can unintentionally mend wounds of the past and act as a healing potion to temporarily take your mind off of hardships of the present. Jack learned this right away after his endeavor with her.
Life is so fantastical... he mused, gently pulling himself out of her warm embrace of slumber so he could dress himself. After doing so, he got the most unusual urge to write her a note, since he had gotten this sudden blast of inspiration. It just happened to be the chorus of Doro's "Love Me in Black". He scribbled that stanza down on a piece of paper, then looked over to the window. Dammit... it's shut... He turned around to check if there was more than one door out of the room. No luck. He tiptoed silently over to her bed to plant a sweet kiss on her lips to signify his departure. He got, in return, a moan followed by, "Not now, Jack, I'm trying to make lasagna for the kids..."
He blinked at her odd statement, then chuckled. "She really thinks that we could have a future together...A long future... with kids..." He grinned as he turned back to look at her sleeping form, which he had covered with a green, silk sheet. Creeping silently again over to the right side of the window, he opened the two storm windows, crept outside, then shut them, the green curtains falling over to block any sunlight (which was now peeking over the horizon). Activating his Helipack, he started for home, which would take about ten or so minutes.
If I'm anyone to say anything about intimacy, I'd say that was the best night of my life... he thought, grinning as he recalled the events. I can't wait for the next one!
-DCJC-
Cass didn't wake up for about another four hours. But when she did, she found herself alone in her bed, with her silk sheet covering her. Glancing over the bed, she found that everything had been taken except for his black, button-down shirt. She also noticed on the computer desk that he had forgotten his blueprints sheet. Glancing over on top of the television was a note that had 'Cass' written across it in a messy scrawl.
She reached up, took it off the television and unfolded it to reveal a poem written to her in an equally-as-messy scribble. It said the following:
Are you ready for me?
Do you love me in Black?
I will push you away
then make you come back.
I can make you feel love.
I can be so detached.
Do you really want me?
Do you love me in Black?
Grinning, she folded the note back up and set it on the television stand. "Jack, you never cease to amaze me..." Throwing off the sheet to get up and go dress herself, she put on a black t-shirt with the word 'Twiztid' written across it, and grabbed a black corset. She then ran out the door so one of her house-mates could tie it up for her.
This is going to be a magnanimously interesting day...
-END Prologue Number One-
Okay, I had to change some things... First of all... I've decided that all the people that are destined to be a point in the hexagram will be from Xiaolin Showdown.. Okay, maybe not ALL of them, but I'm workin' on it! Second of all, the note that Jack writes Cass should be this, not what I originally had. Thirdly.. well, I guess this is kind of a songfic, sorta, kinda, not really. After hearin' Doro's "Love Me in Black", I kinda got inspiration to write this... And partially because I have a buddy on Yahoo! that roleplays as Jack Spicer. O.o; Either way... Don't hate me because I deleted the last "Darkness Compassion" and reposted it with a few minor changes.
Oh, yeah and the "Five" that I was talking about is basically the five prologues. Sorry about the long wait, but I had to write all this in a journal after I typed it out and realized that I got some lyrics wrong. Bah. There are still going to be five prologues, yes. So, I still rival Wuya. XD I HEART YouTube.
The title of this story will be called Tempest, because A) there's a piece by Ludwig von Beethoven called "Tempest" in D-minor and B) ...Well, because it's a cool word. Tempest. -Smiles just sayin' it.-
So, my groveling is finished. If you wish to review... well, do it! S'il vous plait. I gargantuanly appreciate, love and OBSESS over these reviews, because A) they help me become a better author and B) Some of 'em are even good! 8D Must... get... written version of this prologue finished... GAHHHH...