Jack Spicer: How the genius came to be

by DragonsandInk

One Shot on Jack Spicer. He's cool like that. It's about when he was a kid and how he became evil. It's kinda got the idea in it that Jack's an albino, because he's also cool like that.

Hey everyone's! After being…gone…for who knows how long I'm finally posting at least something again. (I plan on working on my other stuff in a couple days) I read my last one shot and couldn't help but think "What the heck is this crap? Why did I even write this? It makes no sense!" So I'm replacing my old one with this one. The last one was a Riku-Kingdom Hearts fanfic that made no sense. This one doesn't make any sense either…but it's written better than the last one at least. This one's from Xaiolin Showdown. The character we all know and love

Jack Spicer. Evil Boy Genius.

And how he became as such. This is the story of how Jack first became evil basically. It was fun, for sure, and I hope you like it!

Where was my backpack? I had left it right there...ugh, nothing ever turned out the way I wanted it! I looked under my bed, glanced in my closet, scanned the floor of my room, and yelled at my gran gran. Although, yelling at Granny only got me kicked harshly out of her room and with an earsplitting headache.

"Mom," I whined, pulling at her skirt.

"What is it, honey?" she asked, not looking up from the pancakes she was making.

"Do you know where my backpack is? School's gonna start soon."

She glanced down at me and smiled. "Have you tried looking on your back Jack?" I strained my neck to look behind me to see that my backpack was already on.

"Oh…" I said lamely and grumbled darkly to myself. Nothing ever went how I wanted.

A heaping plate of pancakes was thrust in front of me and a small smile decked my face. I took the plate and scooped up one of the cakes without bothering to grab a fork. Mom either didn't notice or didn't care. I took it to the table only when I was finished with it and set it down.

"I'm off," I said, just before going out the door.

"Do you want me to drive you?" mom asked quickly before I left.

"No, I'll just take the bus."

She looked at me worriedly. "Are you sure?"

I looked away and nodded. "Yeah, I'll be fine."

She continued watching me all the way to the curb and down the street. I could feel her eyes on me, and it made me happy to know that my mom cared about me so much. But I knew that the happiness would not last as soon as the bus pulled up in front of me. As I walked onto the bus I winced in the bright sunlight that had just come up and was intensified by the dirty glass windows. I could practically feel myself burning already. I heard a kid nearby snicker.

"Is the albino burning in the sunlight?" I forcefully put my hand down and tried to look away from the sun.

"No, the sun's just lame is all," I said, trying not to lose confidence. Most of the kids on the bus laughed at me though.

How I would love for my bus to be like they were in books or on TV, where no one but the weird kids sat in the back. But that wasn't the case in the real world. In the real world all the cool kids and talkative ones sat in the back and talked to each other the whole way to and from the school. The only place that I could sit without being mocked the whole way to school was the front of the bus. And when you were in the front of the bus you got to see everyone who came on and they got to see you.

Unfortunately. Every time another kid got on there was a ceremonial whap on my head that had to happen. Nothing ever went the way I wanted. I was a freak in all forms and no body liked me for it. I was born a freak and was a freak on the inside too, according to everyone else.

Albino. That's what they called me, but I didn't really mind that, they were right. I had white skin, and red eyes, and white hair. If I stayed outside for too long I'd be burned and mom constantly worried that I was going to get skin cancer. I had taken visual rehabilitation as a really little kid so I could still see and all, but sometimes I was a little near sighted, which was why I had a pair of tinted goggles strapped to my forehead. I wasn't bothered by the remarks they made about my skin or eyes, I would make fun of myself for it too…wait, that didn't come out quite right. But, you know what I mean.

What really bothered me was when the teachers got on my back or when the other kids mocked me for my genius. I already knew what test scores I was going to get on everything. English. F. History and Geography. F. Science and Math? If there was a grade higher than an A+ then I'd have it. And the teachers and students mocked me for it! Sure enough, but the time I got into science class the teacher wanted to speak to me after class.

"Jack Spicer," he said and sighed.

"Yes?"

"I don't understand. You're a brilliant young boy Spicer, and I'm sure you and your parents know it. You have the best grades in class when it comes to math and science but it's almost like you don't even try in English and History. You're capable of so much more than what you're showing us. I just know it. So tell me, what's the problem?"

He looked at me earnestly and I sneered at the ground. "I'm just not interested in that weirdo stuff. It's not all that great, why should I care?"

"But Jack, I'm sure that you know how important it is to do well in all of your classes if you want to pass 7th grade."

I kept glaring at the ground. "English and History has no meaning. I don't even get why we study it at all."

The teacher sighed again. "Jack, Jack, Jack…Maybe you'll understand someday how important everything you do now is. Now I know how other kids tend to make fun of you for your…uh…hobbies…but don't let them discourage you from studies. It's only words."

"I never said that the other kids—"

"Now, if there's anyone bullying you, just tell me." He sat back and waited patiently for my answer. My glare switched from the floor to the wall behind him.

"There's no one bullying me." He stared at me for a while longer, as if just by watching he could uncover some sort of secret inside of me.

"Alright then, Jack. Just let me know if there's anything I can do for you." And with that he sent me on my way to my next class and my next lecture that would be the exact same as the one I had just gotten.

Though, I was used to it by now since it happened practically everyday. By now I didn't even think about it at all. It was just as trivial as cleaning your room. Why do something about it if it's only going to happen again? No point. Which was why I never bothered to even complain about it. Or at least that was the best solution I could come up with being the boy genius I was. How many 7th graders did you know who could make an operating robot that could copy and do whatever you wanted.

On the way to lunch I was suddenly pushed down to the ground hitting the floor with a hard thwack. When I looked back up I saw a large beefy fist about to come down on me. I curled into a ball with my hands trying to protect my face as I screamed like a little girl, crying for mercy from the bigger guy.

"Please! Please don't hurt me! I bruise easy!"

The guy and his buddies started laughing as they pulled back.

"Haha, cool it bug, we just wanted to hear you scream your girly little scream." They kept laughing for a minute as I tried to sneakily pick up my stuff and but my bag back on. As I was about to tiptoe away I felt the big guy grab my pack and lift me off the ground so I couldn't get away.

I looked up at the brutes and whimpered, giving my best puppy dog eyes.

"Cool it bug, we just wanna see what sorta gadget you made this time." I was suddenly held upside down and shook up and down. My pack unzipped involuntarily and all my possessions fell onto the ground of the hallway. One of the kids grabbed my little robot and shook it.

"What's this thing do?" he asked, inspecting it carefully. A read beam shot out from the eyes and scanned the guy's face and he dropped it. A loud whirring came from the little toy as gears visibly moved and rearranged themselves.

It still had the same black shirt and pants over the silver body but the face slowly changed so that it matched the kid's face and expression. I had to say it was my best work ye—there was a loud snap and crunching sound as the kids took turns stomping on the little thing until it was just a pile of gears and springs and covering.

"Stupid little thing, trying to turn my eyes red like the albino's I suppose," the guy muttered giving the machine one last kick. I was dropped to the ground where I ran my hands through the metal that had once been my first copy-bot.

I had worked hours on it for the past week. I'd always been good at building things but it was my first time making something I came up with, and it had turned out well. And now it was a pile of scrap metal.

"C'mon guys, let's leave the bug to play with it's toys," the big guy said, and walked away with his buddies. I quickly stuffed the metal into my pack along with my books. I didn't want to just be standing around in the hallway where all the other kids could attack me with their various insults and fists. I headed out of the school, not even caring about classes. Why should I? I didn't see the point, I already knew everything that I would ever need to know.

I ran for only a few minutes before slowing to a walk and panting like a dog. I wasn't much of one for physical endurance either. By the time I made it home school must've been out, Mom would never knew that I had skipped classes at all. I doubted she would care anyways, she was probably getting ready for another one of Dad's business parties that I wouldn't come to.

I came through the door and heard my mom say a hello from the kitchen. I didn't say anything back but went straight for the basement, or as I liked to call it, my boy genius lab. I dumped out the remains of my first copy-bot and stared at them for a while. No one appreciated me for what I did.

I was a freak in their eyes. Everyone's eyes. And I would never be anything else. I wanted to rip my hair out, but that would hurt, and I didn't want to look at the white color of it that marked me as a freak. I looked down at the polished metal surface of my workshop table only to see my red eyes and white hair and skin. There was no escape from who I was. Nothing ever went the way I wanted it to go. I headed upstairs for my gran gran's room.

"Granny," I said, "Do you have any hair dye?" Immediately a box was thrown at me from a corner of the room. I fumbled with it for a moment before I dropped it and reached down to pick it up. It wasn't black, and that was good enough for me. Actually, it was called honeyed apple and showed a little picture of a dirty blonde color with a little red tint to it. I supposed that the red would bring out my eyes; or something like that. Anything was better than the white that I already had. I looked up from the box to my Gran Gran.

"Granny, do you think I'm supposed to be a good boy?" My Mom and Dad always had a firm line between good and evil and how Gran Gran was evil and they and I were good. They also always made sure that I understood that my place in the world was to be the best son that I could be. I couldn't see her face, her room was always shrouded in a deep darkness, but hers wasn't because she couldn't be caught in the sunlight or she'd burn. Her reason was because she was evil and she flaunted it very proudly.

She wore all black, black makeup, black hair; she even made me dye all her underwear black. I never want to go near her panties again. When I asked her for story time she talked about the great evils of Hannibal Bean and Chase Young. Well, they sounded really cool, but they were evil. My Mom always talked about how Gran Gran was bad and evil and how I should stay away from her. But the world of evil drew me back all the same.

All the darkness and forcefulness of one person's ideas. The idea that one person could rule over the whole world and make everyone think the way he did fascinated me. How I would love to have that sort of power. To make it so that no one would make fun of me, or push me down just to hear me scream, and would revel in the amazing feats my robots could do, or at least, would do.

Oh how amazing it would be to rule the world, how great to make something that large happen by one persons hand. Gran gran had told me time and time again that something like that could not be accomplished on the side of good, and that, if I were to join my grandmother on the evil side, I could have the chance to rule in the mystical ways she told me about. And oh, how I dreamed of what it would be like if I were the one to rule the world, as one who was evil.

How great it would be for me to rule the world! And on the side of evil…that would probably be pretty cool too. From what Gran gran had shown me and told me the evil side was the side that had the most freedom. They got to do whatever they wanted, not having to obey anyone else as long as they were more powerful than their opponent. Ah, what a life that must be.

But my parents made it clear to me that they expected me to be completely against the evil side and to stay true to the good. The good that was always cornered by rules and a prospect of losing. I looked down at the hair dye box, thinking about my little robot that was destroyed earlier that day. I didn't want to lose anymore.

"Gran gran, do you think I should become evil?" I asked, trying to peer through the darkness to her. A hand that was bony and had the skin only draping on it reached out for me from the darkness, almost as pale as my own skin.

"Come here, my child."

My eye twitched as I forced a scream down into a whimper and slowly shifter foreward. The hand snatched out and grabbed the front of my shirt and drawing me into the darkness, making me scream.

"Come to the dark side, Jack," my Granny breathed into my ear.

I whimpered some more before muttering an "O-o-o-okay."

I was set back down into the light where I continued to nearly wet my pants. I could practically see her eyes glowing and teeth shining with dark promise. She pointed one of her dry fingers to my chest and poked it.

"First you have to get rid of those happy looking clothes you've got. Wear something more evil looking, like black and grey and red."

I nodded quickly. "Yes, Gran gran."

"And start putting those little robots of yours to use, give them lasers or something that would actually come in handy, got that?"

My eyes widened. "Lasers? But someone could get hurt…"

"What do you care? It's not you getting hurt is it?"

I stuttered, she was trying to break me from the thoughts my parents had pounded into me. "No, I suppose I'm not going to be hurt…unless my robots don't aim right."

"Then make it so they don't aim wrong."

"Yea, I guess I could do that…"

"Then do it, but after you put something else on."

I looked down at what I was wearing. Mother and Father always thought that a sweater vest and knee length pants were something that a good boy like me would wear, even though it showed more of my snow white skin. I did have to admit that the sweater vest was itchy too. I nodded, this time a little more heartfully. I could do that, change my look? I looked down at the hair dye box, I'd love to change my look, actually.

"Okay, I'll do it." I turned and went from her room down to the basement that was my room. I went into the bathroom and wasted no time slowly reading the directions on the box and putting the dye into my hair. When I looked back up into the mirror when I was sure it was done I had a tomato head.

I screamed. "Wh-what is this? What happened?"

I clutched at the box and re-read the directions. Had I done something wrong? Or maybe it was the dye company? Or, more likely, my grandmother switched out the dye's.

I looked back up into the mirror and smoothed back my hair that was usually parted downward. It flopped back down and my hand had a bit of red on it. I took some hair gel from my mother's bathroom and used it on my hair to keep it back. I raised my eyebrow and ran my hand through my hair again. It looked good. Very…evil.

I pulled my goggles up and rested them on my hair line. I turned this way and that, looking at the effect it had. Very evil.

I smiled, but something seemed…missing. The evil look. I tried out a few facial expressions, but none of them seemed to work as well as I thought they would. Well…when girls couldn't make themselves pretty enough they used makeup, so…when guys couldn't make themselves evil enough it stood to reason that the solution would be to use makeup, right?

I once again raided my mom's bathroom and stole some eye liner stuff, black of course, and lined the bottom of my eyes with it. My hand slipped halfway through my left eye and left a streak down to my cheek. I groaned slightly, it wasn't like I was used to using makeup, and was about to wipe the mistake away when I looked at it again. It actually enhanced my evil look.

I tried some more evil looks in the mirror and while they hadn't changed at all the effect was more evil. Now for the clothes…I looked in my closet and mostly just found sweater vests, although I did have some black pants and boots that could work. I checked my pajama's to find a grey shirt. That would work too.

I did a few poses in the mirror until I decided that I looked adequately evil. I nodded and went back upstairs to show my Gran gran.

"Look Granny!" I said happily, "Do I look evil now?"

"Why are you wearing makeup?"

I touched the edge of my left eye spiky and put on some puppy eyes. "Doesn't it make me more evil looking?"

I could practically see her shaking her head. "Never mind, when you rule the world you can make it a fashion statement for all I care. Now, let's hear your evil laugh."

I blinked. "My evil laugh?"

"Yes, let's hear it."

"Muahahahaha?" I said uncertainly.

She sighed. "You're going to need a lot of work on that. Ah well, it will be improved with time. And your outfit?"

I proudly spread my arms out so she could see my whole outfit.

"Not nearly dark enough."

I slumped over in defeat. Maybe being evil wasn't really for me…

"Here."

I was pelted with two things that she threw from the shadows at my head. I looked down at the little gifts she had given me. The first was a really cool jacket that just screamed evil. I put it on and zipped it up, very evil chic. The other was…

"Gran gran, when did you take my backpack?" I asked, looking up from it.

"Never you mind, just put it on."

It took me a while to get my arms through the loops, they had been changed around and I couldn't quite figure out how to—

"You have to buckle it around your chest."

It snapped it place.

"And make sure it's nice and tight too."

I tightened the straps around my shoulders. Overall, I had a little skull thing on my backpack now, it was harder to get into, and the jacket was a size too big for me.

"I think the jacket needs readjusting," I said, wiggling around in it.

"You'll grow into it. How does the backpack feel?"

I moved my shoulders around. "Okay, I guess. Why? Why did you fix the straps?"

"Because if I didn't you'd fall out."

"How would I—"

A whirring sound came from my backpack as two little propellers popped out from them and started spinning in frantic circles. After a moment I felt my feet leave the ground and the straps struggling to keep me attached to the backpack.

I screamed. I slammed into the ceiling, into all the walls, and the door, unable to gain control over the helicopter backpack. After a minute of pure beating against the same wall over and over the wings retracted themselves and dropped me back onto the ground.

"We'll need work on that too, I see."

"What's all this for Gran gran?" I asked, rubbing my head and getting onto my knees.

"You think you can take over the world just by saying so? You need power, and darkness. You obviously can't have any power yourself because of how weak you are, but your mechanics abilities can make up for that. As long as you make some good weapons that'll get the job done. And You'll have to get a better wardrobe than the one you have."

"What about the laugh? What's so important about that?" I asked, confused.

"Idiot! There is no evil villain that does not have a great evil laugh. Start studying it, all the rules of evil and darkness. And all the doings of others who are evil."

I nodded happily and smiled. "I'll become the most evil boy in history! I'll…I'll…I'll show them all my genius! I'll be an evil boy genius that will rule the world. Just watch Gran gran, one day I'll rule everything!"

"That's the spirit boy! Now give me another laugh!"

I laughed, this time much more evilly and more like a cackle.

"Better." She paused a moment then said, "Go back to your room and work on your robots, and remember: make it so that they make up for your weakness."

I nodded again and, with a smile, headed down for my lab. I could already see it, an army of dinosaurs to the south, an army of monkeys to the east, an army of penguins to the north, and to the east…um…an army of…eh, I didn't have to have everything worked out yet, it was only my first day of being evil after all!

I looked down at my lab table, grey and bleak and just screaming for something to be created on it, like a Frankenstein monster. Maybe I wouldn't start with lasers, but maybe something that could shoot stuff like a gun. I wouldn't make an actual gun to start out, instead something more like it looks like a gun but was as powerful as a slingshot. As I thought out the schematics my hands brought out my tools.

I had many things that would normally be off limits to kids my age outside of school classes specialized for it. Mom and Dad didn't care, actually, they encouraged it. They thought that a kid as smart as me deserved to have the best to keep up my genius. It made making my inventions much easier.

Before I knew it, it was time for dinner and mom would insist on me finishing my homework. I looked down at my handiwork and nodded. I showed it to Gran gran at the table and she said it showed a small amount of promise that I could make something like it.

I was so proud of myself the whole night that after I finished scribbling down answers for English class I painted the little weapon a cool color of a greenish brown and black. The next day I wore the regular clothes that my parents expected, except for the vest and I untucked the buttoned shirt that I wore underneath. I put on the makeup and gel in my hair though, and set my goggles on my forehead again so I still looked cool.

When I got on the bus no one laughed anymore, the sight of me so changed in one day shocked them to the core. When the sun came up over the horizon I glared at it and went to my regular seat. No one hit me that day when they came on the bus. They merely stared at me in shock for a moment before silently moving to their seats.

At school I received no more lectures from the teachers, who only handed my tests back to me in silence. As I walked through the halls kids whispered around me and pointed, although none of them spoke to me face to face. Until, I was suddenly pushed to the ground by a strong meaty hand.

Again, I screamed. I may have turned evil now but when a guy's about to punch you it doesn't change whether you'd scream or not.

"Cool it bug, we were just—woah, what's up with the makeover?"

The hand grabbed my backpack and heaved me up from the ground. The restraints around my chest tugged a bit, but kept me secured to my pack so I didn't fall.

"Hey, hey, hey! Easy on the pack, my Gran gran gave it to me," I said, trying to wiggle out of his grasp.

"Ohohoho, something like this must mean that you made a new toy, huh bug?"

I shiftily looked away, "No…"

"Hand it over insect," the kid said, flipping me upside down and shaking me again. My helipack activated and lifted me off the ground and away from the bigger kids. Other students in the halls scattered, screaming as the boys stared at me in shock.

"What—what is that?" one said, his eyes nearly coming out of his head.

I smiled wickedly. "Like it? It's part of my new evil look, and I think I'm starting to get the hang of it."

"E-evil?" one kid squeaked.

I laughed my evil laugh, still needed improving. "Yeah, that's right. You're looking at the guy who will one day rule the world. Jack Spicer, evil boy genius."

I landed on the ground and the helipack retracted. The boys groveled on the ground in front of me. This was fun.

"Oh, and you wanted to see my new toy?" I pulled out my little slingshot/gun and shot it at the light in the hallway. A bolt flew out of it and shattered the glass, sending sparks everywhere. This was a lot of fun.

"Oh yeah, baby," I said, smiling. There was something about being evil that I really liked.

The boys ran off, but I hardly noticed, I was having too much fun watching teachers look out of their classrooms to see what was going on, see me, and then go back in. Oh, I could see it now, me ruling the world. I could see it and I liked it.

Everything was going my way.