I know the majority of Power Rangers: RPM fans find Gem and Gemma annoying, simply for the reason that they finish each other's sentences and seem too cheerful for humans stranded in the Wastelands.

They have become my muses and my reason for writing again.

I love them as much as I would my nieces and nephews (I will NEVER have children unless Heaven intervenes), partially because they remind me of….me.

They are very interesting characters, and I patiently wait for a YouTube video upon the Twins (apparently, three episode appearances aren't good enough for some).

I am starting a collection of Gem and Gemma prose (look on my profile page for more information). Eutopia is my first chapter story, the paper-thin diary of the Twins' experiences in the Soup before the Venjix attacks.

I'm warning you. My writing is horrible.

Hey!

……………Wait! No…no….NO!!!!!...................

.......................................

I'm warning you…..!!!!!!!!

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Eutopia (n) [ee-you-tow-pee-ah] – positive Utopia (from Greek 'uto' no, and 'pia'; literally, 'no' 'place'.) Different from utopia in the sense that is means 'perfect' and not 'fictional'.

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In a basement somewhere on the East Coast, immaculate people in neat black-and-white suits are seated around a conference table.

Their center of interest: a basket in the middle of the table.

In the basket: twins. A boy and a girl. Both appear to be Chinese.

This is a rare occurrence for the suit-people. They are accustomed to finding children (particularly of extraordinary intelligence), then filing out the correct paperwork to 'take' them into the basement.
They are accustomed to lying to the children about their families-

Your parents, unfortunately, died in a car accident. Do you know what that means? They won't be coming back, sweetie; they're gone forever. We can't do anything to bring them back; that's why we're here to take you in and take good care of you. We're so sorry…

-Lying to the parents about their children-

Our deepest apologies, Mr. and Mrs. So-and-so. Your child(ren) have not been recovered from the remains of the explosion at their school......

-And lying to the children about themselves-

You're a very sick little girl. The sun will make you so sick, you won't be able to walk. We can't let you go outside.

Maybe next year.

The children politely inquire for something intangible yet simple, like a minute or two to go outside and play…

We already went over this with you. The sun makes you very sick. Maybe next year.

So they dish out something for the children to do: complex algebraic equations, rocket codes, analyzing HTML sequences, college-grade calculus, anything and everything in their arsenal to keep the children from the 'temptation' of open space.

The sun makes you very sick. 'Simple, yet effective', some people would compliment them.

They are used to taking the children to their doorstep.

Not children being given to them on their doorstep.

(Not that there is an actual door to the basement. The basket was found by the head of the basement, who wasn't exactly jubilant to finds crying twins on the doorstep of his house.)

And the basket-twins aren't children at all.
Just toothless, blubbering, slobbering infants.

What do we do with them? They're too young to have developed any signs of showing intelligence.

We've analyzed them; both of them are pure Chinese. The Chinese are known for being intellects, right?

They're infants, Agent 038! Agent 001 could've snapped up a pair of mediocre brats for all we know!

Control your temper, Agent 013. The Chinese aren't just intellects, are they? They were also the performers of the ancient world.

We don't fund performing arts, Agent 024. Musical instruments, yes, but only because that hones the mind of the intellect-

I'm talking about physical abilities here. The children of Alphabet Soup do not just analyze, they create. All their algebraic knowledge must be compressed into something tangible. Technology. Robotics. And I can tell you that we can't hire test 'pilots' from the outside. Should anyone find out about our…conditions to which we keep the children inside the Soup…we'll have to…get our hands dirty. So I say we save ourselves the trouble the easy way. We've got the money, the paperwork, and the time.

What exactly are you suggesting, Agent 024?

She gestures to the basket.

These are the test pilots for Alphabet Soup's robotics. We'll raise them right here in the Soup. Enhance their bodies to ensure adaptability and exceptional health. The Inspectors will have no question about our 'ethics' and the other children when they learn we took in orphans abandoned upon our doorstep. We will not have to deal with covering up everything from the Inspectors, we won't have the trouble of finding test pilots from the outside, and we won't have to find a way to get rid of these children. Everyone wins.

And with agreeing nods from everyone around the table, and the stamp of approval from Agent 001, the children become property of Alphabet Soup.

Agent 024 has been given the honor of naming them.
She was a former student, with a secret love of astrology in her teenage days.

'Gemini' means 'twin'.

She absently strings letters together with the name.

Gemini and Geminia?....

She decides to shorten the names for convenience.

Gemi….and…Gemia….

Their names are Gem and Gemma, she proclaims to everyone, seeking a second opinion.

Everyone happily approves.

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(splashes water)

Told you my writing sucks, did I not?

Tell me what you think…….