Xiaolin Showdown

Part 1

"Good and evil are at a constant struggle, overlapping, overpowering each other in a dance that's been performed for centuries. These issues, discrepancies, battles of conflict now rest in single artifacts, respectively named Shen Gon Wu. Each trinket provides the user a specific power or ability, making the one in possession stronger, faster, smarter, and better equipped for the elements. Each side wishes to be the master or ruler of such godlike artifacts and save the world… or harm it."

A voice chuckled after hearing this, finding it entertaining to say the least. "So what; the world is controlled by whoever has all these 'Shen Gon Wu'?" It said obnoxiously, refusing to believe in such a tale as this. Harsh grey eyes narrowed as the man reciting placed the book back in its respective place in his vast collection of knowledgeable texts.

"Scoff if you must boy, but these things are true. Out there~"

"Are people who fight over mystic toys that 'supposedly' gives you powers," finished the careless teen disdainfully. He picked up an ancient knife, examining its' brass handle and intricate carving intently. The teen wasn't one to rely on fables and fiction so easily. He believed in the 'if you can't see it, hear it, or smell it, or prove it to be true with science, it doesn't exist' theory.

The elder rolled his eyes and snarled passively. "Soon you will understand Spencer, then you will see that there are other things out there that does not rely on science to justify its' means." The one known as Spencer nodded dolefully before placing the knife back down on it golden casing and walked over to the other.

"If you say so Xiang…" he took the time to snaked slender arms around the older ones waist and lean into his back, inhaling the scent of centuries of war, sweat, tears, and blood. Spice and earth clouded his senses and he sighed blissfully despite himself. "Gawd I love your scent," he breathed out sensually, tracing flippant patterns on the others' well toned and muscular abs.

Xiang gave a toothy grin and scoffed. "Trying to flirt your way out of the argument again Spencer?" he said haughtily, listening to the younger sigh again and give a tentative shudder in the process. "Is it working?" he chuckled out. The elder shook his head as his grin widened only a little more.

"Possibly…" he said turning around to look down on the teen. He took in the still childish face, the boy's soft magenta coded eyes that hazed due to the Genesis's power, his soft light tanned skin and rugged deep auburn hair that when in the right light was a dark bloody red. Xiang scooped up the petite frame and chuckled. "Shall we test it out?" he said seductively, hot breath tingling the other's ear. Spencer could only nod as his face flushed. A cold eerie tingle traveled through the teen's body before they were whisked to the bedroom.

SOMEWHERE in the dense jungles of the Amazon, two groups collided in a fight to the finish. The crackling of trees echoed through the area, along with the sound of lightening and a cry of war. The Brazilian teen leapt from tree to tree quickly as he neared the object of this fight. Performing a series of flips and turns through the thick brushes, he slinked through the trees as he leaped from one to a stone pillar with ease and reached for a golden harp with an angel connected at its base.

"Got it!" he said in declaration of victory, fingers almost in contact with the object. Just then a gust of wind sent the Island raised boy backwards, crushing against a nearby trunk. A maniacal laugh filled the air as a gothic, albino teen stood hovering above the Wu in question. "Nice try 'Wind bag' but this goes to the Heylin side this time!" The teen said as he closed in on the trinket.

The other boy got up and stood groggily, taking in his surroundings. "Come on Raimundo! Don't let Jack of all people beat you!" was a squeaked female voice. Raimundo shook his head to block out the feeling of dizziness then averted his gaze to the one called Jack.

Snarling, Raimundo ran up to the stone pillar. "Hey Jack! Take this; Sword of the Storm!" A powerful gust of wind, like that of a tornado spewed out and enclosed on the albino. Jack gave a shrilled shriek before being knocked back a good ten feet, crashing into a rock sided cliff. Raimundo took the time to grab the Wu, smiling and declaring the showdown over.

The playing field rendering back to its' original form as though nothing had happened, and the Xiaolin Warriors cheered at another victory as they laughed then proceeded to gloat and thoroughly beat and leave a painful, pride streaking Jack in their wake.

When they were gone from sight, he slowly raised himself up, grimacing and whining at the pain that coursed through his body. He looked down at his heli-pack and at the shattered wings and broken pole that held the spindles together. With a sigh, he picked it up and sulked angrily at. "Damn Xiaolin losers; always going overboard with their gloating. I mean, at least let me leave with my pride intact this time!" he screamed with rage at nothing in particular.

"So I take you lost yet another Wu, Spicer?" came a cool, collected voice. Jack immediately knew the voice, it was the voice of a person he perceived a God among men. "Chase!" he babbled out as the warlord neared him, his face composed yet his eyes burning with anger and resentment towards the young man before him. "Y-you s-s-see I was… uh… I was w-winning right? Th-then alluva sudden wind! Wind everywhere and me- I couldn't see s-so…" he rambled as the eternally young evildoer bared fangs at him.

He raised a hand to stop the teens insisting excuses. "Hold you tongue Spicer. I know that you lost the Wu. Not only did you lose it, but you were beaten afterwards by the look of it," he said examining the timid albino in front of him as ruby eyes widened in shock.

"Y-you saw?" was a whisper from Jack's lips. He honestly thought that the Warlord was off doing something more important than watch him fight. Especially after the fact that each time he did participate in a Showdown, 9 times out of 10 he ended up with nothing, beaten to a pulp… like today.

Regardless, Chase played a look of displeasure on his face but nodded none the less. "The Xiaolin monks have become hostile. They chastise everything they do, and have joy in doing others harm. It seems that they have gone beyond being defensive do-gooders, they are become cocky. Someone must teach them a lesson before they do more damage," the Prince of Darkness said, pacing around Spicer as he was endued deep in thought now.

Jack nodded quickly in agreement. "Yeah! They even steal now! I mean, I steal but that's normal for an evil doer, for a monk to do that it's just… immoral. And you said that they broke into your house one day because they claimed that you have stolen a Shen Gon Wu! Everyone knows you would never do something like that! Those snot nosed bastards are just running the place now! They think that just because their on the side of 'justice' that they can get away with anything! I bet that they would kick God's ass and still believe that their in the right! I hate them!"

During Jack's rant, Young suddenly hatched a plot. "If they want underhanded tricks, then we shall give them just that." Jack eyed him closely as he tried to catch on to what was happening. Chase glanced at him then gave him a momentary smirk of mischievousness. "I have just the person who will gladly accept teaching those insolent monks a thorough lesson." The albino raised a thick eyebrow in curiosity. "You know someone? Who? Wuya? Because if you plan on using her you know she'll only try to trick you into getting what she wants."

Chase shook his head in careless fashion. "I know better than to ask for that witch's help. No, I have a… 'Friend' that will help my cause." He studied the boy's bewildered face again before sighing and turning heel and walking towards a tree, his back away from Spicer. Yes, Chase knew just the person to call on a time like this. Those Xiaolin monks thought that HE was evil and conniving but that haven't seen anything yet. Though he was evil, he still had friends in high places that were just as elusive as or even more so than he.

With an evil toothed grin he narrowed his eyes to the object he was facing, talking mostly to himself though Jack was still close by to hear. "Yes, now that I think about it, it has been a while since I have met my good friend Long. I believe it is time that I paid him a visit." He then abruptly turned heel again, this time nearly knocking Jack back onto the ground. Spicer rubbed his head and walked behind Chase. "Who's Long? Where are we going?" he said dumbfounded. Chase didn't answer him, but did say, "We are going to visit an old friend; one that I haven't seen in over thirteen hundred years."

Jack said nothing more, but followed the evil entity through the heavy brushes and trees, wondering who Chases' friend was and even more, what the man had concocted in that head of his.

At Chase's palace the jungle cats greeted their master with contenting purrs and nuzzles. Chase walked past them, giving them a scratch behind their ears as he made way to his throne room, Jack not to far behind him. They made way through the many corridors of the Warlord's home, Jack never getting bored of the way the walls held tall portraits of warriors from long ago and the design of the palace made him still look in awe even after all these years.

Chase sauntered into the throne room, a lion and tiger already there to meet his presence. He acknowledged them with a nod and made way to his royal chair, sitting erect yet somehow still relaxed and intimidating all in one. Spicer meekly scurried over to the throne, earning growls of protest as the lion snuffed and the tiger bit at him. With a yelp he ran over to the elder who was busy concocting some sort of mirror with his dark magic. An eerie glow emitted from his hand as he placed a look of intense focus on his face. The glow grew brighter, greener as it shot forth two feet in front of the two and formed a black gaping hole.

Jack's mouth went askew as the magic dimmed down, the glow growing fainter as the black pit separated and parted from its middle to reveal a glass window. Chase waved his hand, casting a glimmer over the object as it started to show images of a place Jack had not seen before. Suddenly, the mirror revealed a man. His eyes were a cold and steely grey, his hair a shivering silver with black streaks tone that draped and placed neatly around his mature handsome face. The man blinked only once then gave the pair a demonic grin.

"Well, if it isn't my dear friend Chase Young," he said in a low, growled out response. Jack visually jumped as Chase nodded in respect. "It's been a while Xiang Long. How have you been?" he said carrying on casual conversation. The other shrugged. "Same as always Young, destroying lives, stealing what is rightfully mine…" Just then another voice emitted from the man's side of the mirror.

"What's going on? I thought we were… Oh, an evil men conference," came the snide reply from a teen about two years older than Spicer with a deep, dark maroon hair and magenta shot eyes. Jack gawked at the teen. "He looks like…!"

The other scoffed. "Don't you DARE finish that statement! I look nothing like you Goth punk! Though this is my real hair color my eyes weren't like this before the…" The man named Xiang quickly shot the teen a dirty glare before he could finish. "Whatever, now that I know what's going on, I'm gonna try re-dying my damn hair… again," the young man drawled out angrily as he left.

Xiang sighed and turned attention back to the duo. "What business brings you here Young? We haven't talked in over thirteen hundred years," he said. Chase's demeanor darkened a bit before he leaned forward and smirked. "I have an offer for you Long. How would you like to teach Xiaolin warriors a lesson?"