Hey guys! So this is my first attempt at putting something out there, so hopefully you'll enjoy it! This is what I would imagine to be the second generation for Xiaolin Showdown, mainly focused around Dale and Alice Spicer (yep, you guessed it!). I hope you don't flame it too badly.

Basically, what this is: A series of drabbles. It is NOT a cohesive story, but more than just little snippets about what may happen at different times. A bit like Game of Thrones - there's a whole load of different storylines! But please enjoy - we start off with Dale Spicer. you can figure out the rest! xx

1) Beginnings

Dale never appreciated why people always had to get involved in his business. He was, after all, trying his best to fit into this forsaken temple and he couldn't do it with everyone breathing down his neck, asking him how he was getting on. Whenever they did that, his little frustrating beams of light would go off track completely and hit something. Or someone, which had happened before. He still had to make it up to Dojo for that...

"You have to relax into it," his "leader" told him, too many times. Raimundo wasn't too bad of a leader. He was the only father figure he had left, so he at least owed it to him to try his best. But beginning something and actually finishing something was not Dale Spicer's forte... Unless it was a bender. He was fairly good at those...

"Relax into it," he growled to himself. He wasn't even sure if he was mimicking Raimundo, or if he was just trying to give himself the tiniest of motivational speeches. He wasn't good at those either. Failing runs in the family... Well, all except his twin sister, Alice Spicer... but what became of her, Dale would never know.

"Is that what you tell yourself at night?" a female voice said from behind him. Dale gasped and a sharp bolt of light erupted from the palm of his hand and burned a wooden piller down in an instant. Defeated, he turned to the blonde girl, Dixie Bailey, behind him.

"I tell myself nothing at night... Except I wish I was born into something a bit more talented..."

"Talented? You're the Dragon of Light! It ain't gon' get more talented than that."

"Yea, and I'm doing a pretty shitty job with it, aren't I?" Dale ran his hair through his dark brown, almost black, locks of mair and plopped himself onto the ground. He wasn't born with his father's looks, thank God. He got his mother's dark olive skin, emerald green eyes and dark hair. Although he did have his father's thin nose and smartass smirk.

"This is just the beginning of your training," Dixie said. "It ain't gon' get any more easier, you know. Stop feeling sorry for yourself, sugar cube, and keep going." Dale looked up at her, trying to use the defeated look he gave everyone else if he wanted to get away with something. But a Texas girl, born and raised, was not going to take nonsense from a whiney East American like Dale Spicer.

"Come on. Up!" Dixie moved towards a training staff and twirled it in her hand. "Let's just do some basic combat. And please... try not to kill me!"

Beginnings,

Dale thought to himself, begrudgingly, pushing himself up. Nothing harder than 'em.