Here's something that's long overdue. It be a Xiaolin Showdown Fanfiction Awards prize fic for Grape Icies. Late congratulations, Grape Icies!
The "content" of this story is touchy, so I'm rating it T to be on the safe side. No swearing or violence, just a few sexual references. (I didn't get very graphic with this either though.)
I obscured some of the more controversial messages, leaving a rather disorganized and hard-to-follow fanfic, featuring Wuya and Chase as they decide who wears the pants in the relationship!
Also, thanks to the TheXGrayXLady for the inspiration of describing gemstone-based architecture and all that particular jazz.
A marble fountain was sparkling aquamarine down in the depths of the inner sanctum. The same depths that contained, or rather imprisoned, the powerless and the exhausted. But even as the sounds of flowing water drowned out the echoed flapping of crows' wings, the patting of bare feet could be heard approaching all the way from the rocky volcanic corridors to the glossy shelter of the giant "asylum."
The mentally worn-out Heylin witch was just taking her dear time, strolling slowly – almost cautiously – as three jungle cats accompanied her, intent on monitoring her every move.
She appeared so relaxed with that bathrobe snuggling her and that towel hung on her shoulder... but of course Chase's little pets would never let her actually feel as such.
"Hairy beasts... rocky hallways... oh what a fancy suite I'M having the privilege of crashing in." With that Wuya stumbled once over a sharp rock, which could've easily cut her foot open. "AGH! Why didn't I buy sandals when I had the chance..."
Eventually she tripped her way over to the fountain of destination, the cats grunting like the animals they were whilst separating out and surrounding the area, watchfully.
"Get lost," Wuya hissed as softly as she could, so that none of them could hear (although they probably did). She set her luxurious towel on the fountain's edge and began to undress into what else than her bathing suit. Whipping her much-too-large hair in the cats' direction, she swung over the edge and dipped her feet in the water, then sighed in relief upon half-submerging into the swirling coolness.
But she still never forgot her imprisonment – not inside a mystical puzzle box, but underneath the rule of a passive-aggressive warlock.
"He doesn't care about me... my welfare... my SANITY." Then Wuya swished around in the binding pool to eye the cats. "...Not that that's a BAD thing," she said with a hand wave and a smile.
Intensifying growls seeped through hideous feline fangs.
"Still... it's hardly the proper way to conduct evil." The Heylin witch ducked underwater and emerged with another flip of her big hair, launching small water droplets through the air.
"If only he could figure that out."
She dove again into the deep aquamarine, twisting angrily around and spawning (evil) bubbles. Pulling toward the ten-foot fountain floor lined with reflective quartz crystals. Beautiful quartz – her futile, meaningless sanctuary.
Then Wuya saw her reflection in one of those crystals, marring their purity. And she raised her overly-groomed eyebrows at the sight; her face appeared so... irresistible.
But, now choking disgustingly for oxygen, the woman floundered and kicked like a demented mermonster, and eventually arose to the bright surface, hacking and shouting three words.
"SHEN GONG WU!"
The crazy witch clamped her claws over her mouth; surely someone, or something, must have caught ear of her desperate lust for lustrous magical artifacts.
Yet, surprisingly enough no one heard her. As if by some spell, the jungle cat guards had each dozed off, relaxing along the border of the fountain.
Wuya wiped her wet forehead. "Phew. Now where was I." She developed the idea now in her mind as she ascended back to the shallow end – shallow and superficial.
"Hah. Chase wants a good girl, he'll GET a good girl." She reached for her fancy towel, still seated on the rim, and impurified it by scrubbing it against her very attractive form. "The only way to win ALL THE POWER is to, 'ask nicely.'"
Meanwhile the warlock, also known as Chase Young, had isolated himself at a limestone vista overlooking his lair. He seemed almost in a trance, almost as if casting a spell, letting his very body sway itself into multiple Tai Chi stances.
His eyes glared open and turned to slits as his pointy ears caught the sound of fleshy footsteps.
A somewhat raspy voice came. "Why Chase, what is the meaning of you practicing all the way up here?" The red hair of Wuya arose from above the steps taken.
Chase was hardly facing Wuya's direction. "Begone, you highly obnoxious woman."
The Heylin witch was panting, in rasps, after having made quite the rigorous stair-climb. "What's the matter?" she could have sneered, but didn't. "Won't you enjoy my company, at least for a minute's worth of time?"
"...Time. Time, along with everything else, is not on your side at the moment... Wuya."
Wuya stopped breathing briefly, creasing those eyebrows of hers as well. "What on earth does that even mean?" she started. However, she soon resumed her breathing when she suddenly remembered her little plan. "...Unless," she restarted, putting a finger to her lips, "you're saying time has done a number on my... figure."
"Your repulsive figure has nothing to do with it."
Wuya wrinkled her face up; this was going to be tougher than she thought. Yet she was stubbornly determined.
"Well, suit yourself then," she calmly finished, her nose slightly stuck up in the air. Then she turned her nude heel around and patted back down the steps of stone.
Chase Young quirked a brow without moving any other muscles. "'Suit yourself,' huh?"
Later that leisurely day, the witch, also known as Wuya, was snooping about the palace, while the jungle cats were visibly lounging on the stone floors instead of making their rounds. The female peeked around every corner of each stone-lined corridor and buttress of jade, then slinked along to the palace garden, almost like a slimy Error in the night.
She finally found the garden's center, where a natural hot spring caved into the ground, filled with water that was being heated by a deep volcano.
"Let's see..." She tested the water by dipping her foot into it. "YOW!" She yanked her foot right back out; it was burning as if it had been plunged into pure, unadulterated lava.
Wuya flopped on the stone floor and rubbed the bright red piece of flesh now hanging off her leg. "How does he 'soothe his muscles' in that hot-iron soup? Rrgh!"
With a closure of her eyes and a shake of her hands she stood up again, albeit in a vexed fashion. "Ah, anyway. Now to sniff out those scented candles of his..." She turned and walked back alongside the walls of moss and ferns.
Green fire suddenly shot at a more lifeless and volcanic wall, blazing an otherworldly symbol into the rock. The fire came from the hand of Chase Young himself. He enjoyed the pleasure of utilizing Wuya's deprived (and stolen) powers, especially in his personalized fitness room of hardened magma and black hot-iron equipment.
"Perfect," he concluded, watching the flaming symbol burn out crisply from a high ledge.
That's when he heard a knock on the iron-spiked door behind him. He sighed in annoyance, recognizing the irritating sound that was almost as bad as nails as a chalkboard. "Wuya."
Surprisingly, he gave in to the knock after a while, lowering his head and raising his left arm to crank the heavy door up telekinetically.
"This had better be good." With a swish of his long man-hair he strode through the doorway, not making any noise but that of disturbed air.
Yet, of course, the witch was not waiting out there for him. How cowardly. Chase Young spied no one at the fitness room's entrance. He scanned the palace grotto from where he could see, until upon glancing down at the stone floor, he noticed a small candle sitting there.
After elevating his long eyebrows, the warlock squinted his slitted eyes as they followed a whole trail of candles; these were the same candles he had kept delicately stored in his grand master bedroom.
However, calmly softening his face, he decided to play along with this most curious of charades. He smirked, lit one of his gloved fingers with a tiny green flame, and knelt to the candle front and center to him, "lovingly" lighting it as well.
Now breathing in and lifting his palms, Chase allowed the miniscule flame to come alive, making it dance and hop from the first container of wax to the next, and then the next, eventually flaring a bright green path down the grotto. Only then did the proud man arise, seeing the trail now fit to follow. He took in the scent of cinnamon, lavender... and cherry, and walked alongside the candle line.
Led to the darkened garden, where the specks of lit fire strangely matched the color of plant life, Chase Young was getting closer and closer to the hot spring. If he hadn't upheld his oh-so dignified posture he would've appeared a primal animal, scouring the jungle for the prey that had so foolishly left an obvious scent behind.
The sneaky Wuya was currently attempting to dip her entire self into the spring, now in her bathing suit (again), constantly jerking her legs to get used to the absolutely blistering temperatures. She had arranged her swiped scented candles around the rim of the bubbling pool, and she suddenly noticed them lighting the darkness around her, glowing with her power.
Gasping and feeling her lips with her hand, she mumbled in a low voice: "A sign if I ever saw one. ...How trite." She tensed her claw-hands to bloom a flame of her own, but of course to no avail; she was powerless. (Wishfully not for long.)
And as she heard faint steps trodding stone, she hurriedly ducked in the water, holding back screams of unbearable pain.
"You loathsome snake," came the voice of Chase... although it sounded oddly playful. "Taking the vast majority of my candles and sticking them around my private 'hot tub' – what kind of convoluted schemes are you intending to withhold from me this time, woman?"
"Oh, it's nothing but a small invitation to party!" Wuya stretched nonchalantly and puffed out her lips. "The candles smell awfully nice on such a warm evening; too bad they went to waste when you used my 'Apihijau' technique on them."
"I have no interest in such cheap mood-setters." Chase rubbed his green flaming fingers together. "The only reason I came down here was to ask why in the name of all evil you persist in pining for my attention."
"Well... that's because..." Wuya sought a delicate way to put this, "I happen to be attracted to stoic, deep-thinking men! Ah-hah!" She primped her big hair assuredly, with her wet and well-cooked hand. "Don't pretend like you can't recognize you have an, extra special something."
"You mean, besides my, heh, fine grooming?" Chase swished his hair and whipped off most of his armor, revealing a bare chest and a pair of spiked metallic "swimming trunks." Then he dipped in the pool with Wuya, who appeared quite delighted.
"Aah..." The scalding water didn't so much as distract the mighty warrior of darkness. He situated his elbows on the pool's edge in a more-than-relaxed style.
Soon the bathing-suited witch glided up to him and boldly motioned for him to come. "Here-here, you deserve a little massage after a long day of Tai Chi practice."
The warlock smirked. "Sounds... heavenly." He turned his back to her and rested his arms on glazed granite.
Wuya proceeded to tenderly rub his shoulders, not really digging deep enough into the muscle. "...Chasey," she dared to address him, "why do we fight so much?"
She felt his shoulders bob as he chuckled. "...Well, you ARE quite difficult to negotiate with, especially concerning who gets to use our accumulated Shen Gong Wu."
"OUR Shen Gong Wu, you say?" Wuya asked all gleefully innocent. "Really?"
"But of course; they belong to you as well as to me. ...For the sake of evil."
"...But surely there is more to it than just expediency." Wuya neared Chase's ear and lowered her womanly voice. "You have to tell me how you feel deep down, deep man, or leave me forever in my doubts. ...Please. Tell me why you can't trust me, no matter what I do."
"Simple," Chase replied. "If I trust you, you won't be able to bring out your worst evil through those most silliest of trinkets. And... it would break my heart in two to see that left unaccomplished on your end."
"Why Chase... I didn't know that was what this was about." Wuya suddenly leaned back and drew over to his opposite ear, now possessing renewed intrigue, warmth, and passion for this fifteen-hundred-year-old man.
"Certainly!" Chase gently removed Wuya's claw-hands and finally turned round to face her. "You're just too much – such a handful!"
"Oh-ho-ho..." Wuya cocked her head to the side, so very flattered. "I suppose, from your point of view. Now..." she moved toward Chase's face, almost whispering, "Even if I don't need Shen Gong Wu, I'd still like to 'practice' with them... so I can always help snatch you some more. What do you say, big guy?"
"Hmm, I wonder. My concern is, would it significantly benefit YOU?"
"YES, it would!" That's when Wuya splashed away, and then started gradually climbing out of the spring, showing off her (literally) steaming bod. "It would serve us together as one united evil pair!" she snickered lustfully from her two-piece.
"I thought so." Seemingly aroused, Chase turned in her direction, still smiling in a devilish manner. "Very well, I would be most pleased to lend something to you."
"I can hardly wait." The witch was on all fours, twisting back to stare into the warlock's snake-like pupils. "So what might I receive first? The Reversing Mirror? The Wushan Geyser? Or how about... oh, the Fountain of Hui?"
Chase Young bared his teeth and raised two fingers. "This." He snapped them.
Grunts and growls carried throughout the shady garden. Wuya immediately swiveled, and tensely sat there on the granite... confused. What kind of trick...
"Your false sense of security served me quite well," the evil super-genius began, climbing up past the beached-whale hag. The glowing, ever-watchful eyes of jungle felines soon glared through the ferns above.
"The cats!" Wuya cupped her hand over her mouth.
"They brought me all the information necessary." Chase picked up his protective armor and strapped every piece of it back on his body. "Even in slumber, they can hear your rebellious plans of seduction in their dreams. ...The only downside is the nightmares they must glean from your mind..."
"...W-what – NO!" The Heylin witch scrambled backward when the cats entered the green light and prowled down to her level. "No-no! It wasn't supposed to BE this way! I can help you rule, I swear it!"
Regardless, the Heylin warlock sighed deeply. "This has to be your most pathetic attempt at my Shen Gong Wu yet. After all, you've failed so many countless times before; what made you think in your pea-sized brain that THIS would be any deviation? ...Cats." He motioned for his beasts to come. They surrounded the writhing woman and grabbed her in their jaws, by her big, beautiful, long-flowing hair.
"Agh! This isn't over Chase! It never WILL be!" the female spat, wide-eyed and terror-stricken. To her, this stone-and-gemstone palace-lair wasn't a sanctuary; it was Hell, and she was being dragged to her dungeon – she, her master's slave.
Standing there, armor adorning himself neatly, Chase Young shook his head, almost out of pity. "Flesh-craving fool." He stalked down the opposite path, and every last one of his "classy" scented candles burned out of their green fire, leaving the garden black as pitch.
Flesh-craving basically means a lust for the flesh, if you get my drift.
My take on this matter? It's hardly an "empowering" thing for women to use sex to get what they want. (There, I said it!) Knowing this, Chase turns the tables on Wuya.
I left one single silly Faerie Queene reference in this thing. Find it and win a prize! Though don't expect me to write one; I get carried away pretty easily.