I hate when people, just to feel good about themselves, bag on you for your insecurities. *Sighs* The world is so unbearable sometimes...well, here's a terrible one shot inspired by one of my favorite T.V. shows ever: Teen Titans. I thought it would turn out right, but now...I know it's just terrible...Disclaimer: I don't own Big Time Rush or Teen Titans. I just happen to like both shows and thought to put them together.
"Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos!"
The amateur purse snatcher was levitated off the ground in a big, transparent violet bubble. His screams were muted as he was spun around and finally slammed into the ground, out cold from the blow.
The small pink purse he had robbed from the kind, old lady was soon encased in black aura, it levitating out of his relaxed hand before meeting her thin, worn fingers.
"Oh thank goodness! Thank you, young man!" She exclaimed in the strongest tone she could manage, smiling up at the boy surrounded by thick, large shadows.
"Don't mention it." He responded in a soft, raspy monotone. His eyes that had glowed a vibrant white when he summoned his powers were returning to their usual color: a deep amethyst.
The old lady smiled again in spite of her hero's cold shoulder, he not leaving her side until she was safe on the bus back home.
He used his powers to carry her groceries for her. His feet never touched the ground she walked on.
Once she was gone, waving goodbye to him from her window until the bus turned a corner, he sighed and pulled down his hood.
The boy's skin was a pale whitish-gray, as if he was suffering from severe hypothermia. He was tall and rather good-looking, even if he refused to address his gloomy demeanor: big wide eyes, though half-lidded as if he was sleepy or bored out of his mind. Thin, dark eyebrows and smooth flawless skin that seemed to glow in the moonlight. A dark red gem was in the center of his proud forehead; the source of his powers. A straight, sharp nose and pale full lips, and hair that was shaved at the back and sides. His bangs were left alone though, flopping over his eyes and chakra gem. His hair matched his eyes, a deep violet-amethyst that stood out even in the dark of night.
"There, I stopped a purse snatcher and finished up patrol for tonight. I should head home; I need to mediate." With that he pulled his hood back into place and took off to the skies, cloak rippling in the weak breeze.
The boy's attire was just as unusual as his appearance: a black turtleneck that stopped above his naval, the sleeves curling around his thin, long fingers like gloves. He had on a pair of tight leather pants, flexible enough for fight or flight and black as well. He had a belt around his thin waist, yellow with circular dark red gems. A matching gem held his cloak in place, the cloak long and a navy blue; it went pass the heels of his feet, completely concealing his lean frame from the outside world when walking. The hood was large, large enough to hide everything of his mouth, nose, chin; only his eyes could be seen. Two gems rested at the backs of his hands, and elbow-length navy blue boots were on his feet.
He seemed strange, truly out of place at the now calm city of Los Angeles.
It was ten minutes to midnight but he was still alert, his senses highly enhanced due to his mysterious, dark powers. His hands were straight lines at his sides, eyes scanning the rooftops and streets below for any funny business.
Thankfully, the streets were clean and no building was getting blown up. Seems like the baddies knew he was outside too, watching and waiting.
'Guess they don't want to get their asses kicked tonight.' He thought with a tiny smile. Of course it wasn't visible due to his hood; he rarely smiled anyway, though.
"Home isn't too far away, just don't lose control. You need to control you-"
A sudden chill went up his spine, a gasp leaving him.
The boy looked around frantically, eyes and hands glowing. The shadows surrounding him, with a simple whisper he forced them away, exposing every nook and cranny to the moon.
Nothing, not even a stray cat digging through the garbage.
But this feeling inside...
"I know what I felt. But...ugh, my powers will go haywire if I don't mediate soon. It could be a sign of that, or just my paranoia. Whichever it is, I can't keep stay out here. I need to get home. Azarath metrion zinthos..." A large amount of black aura in the shape of a raven soon consumed the strange boy, its wings stretched taut as it glided across the sky with large, powerful pulls of its body.
While using astral projection, the boy was at an disadvantage of sensing unnatural pulsations and presences in the area.
That meant that he couldn't sense the fast, lithe figure hopping across the rooftops and fire escapes, following carefully and quietly.
-Page Break-
The boy, in what felt like forever to him, finally arrived at his destination: a spacious, simple yet tasteful apartment complex.
So not to disturb his neighbors he used astral projection once more to pass through the walls, sighing in relief as his feet met the thick, plus black carpet of his home.
He pulled off his hood and let another tiny smile touch his lips. He always felt safe...normal when home.
After all, the apartment that was once bland and boring now had personality thanks to his distinct tastes.
"Home." He said, taking it all in as if this was only a sweet dream. As if he'd wake up at any moment.
A thick, plush black carpeting for the living room and his bedroom, the curtains ranging from navy blue to purple to black. The lights off, several trinkets from his mom along the walls: bookshelves stuffed with thick books, thin books, leather bound, paperback, all of different shapes and sizes with page after page information. A few small statues of ravens roosted on the floors and on top of the shelves, their beady eyes slightly unnerving. A small flat-screen was in the corner so the boy could keep an eye on the news, the kitchen work made of granite and other dark stones. A few tasteful portraits hung from the walls, all symmetrical. The walls and his bedroom door were the only things that weren't black, purple or navy blue; they were white.
'I'm back. I need some herbal tea, I really do. But first...' The boy's smile fell as he closed his eyes and held up his hands.
"Azarath metrion zinthos." He opened his eyes again, they glowing a pure white.
Suddenly his entire appearance began to change. His violet-blue hair turned a chocolate brown, bangs gone and do now spiky. His whitish-gray skin went a rich tan, his chakra gem vanishing. His eyes, losing their white glow, went from deep amethyst to bright hazel-green; his eyebrows thickened a bit, his uniform now gone. He was now wearing what he picked out for today: a black hoodie, tight dark-washed skinny jeans and black sneakers. His nails were painted black and he had thick eyeliner on.
He was Raven no more. He was back to being the average, Goth boy everyone at school knew him as: James Diamond-Roth.
"There, much better." He mumbled, taking a deep breath before heading to the sink and pouring some water into a pot and turning on the stove. As the water heated up he went to the pantry and dug out his box of herbal tea bags, getting out his favorite mug at the same time: dainty, black with a skull and crossbones. He waited about ten minutes, bubbles on the surface, before turning off the stove and pouring the water into his mug, stirring the tea bag slowly.
James closed his eyes briefly as he concentrated all his energy on the long, raspberry vanilla scented candles scattered around his living room. Black flames sparked to life, the sweet smell filling the room to the brim.
The empath breathed in the smell of his tea and candles, his stiff posture easing up as he leaned against the sink and took a sip.
The warmth and taste colored his thin cheeks. "Ahh, I always focus better during mediation after some tea. Hmm, I have to remember to shower before bed tonight though, fighting stupid baddies builds up a sweat."
"I agree. Nice place you got here, by the way. Mind if I crash here for a bit?"
-Page Break-
Before James could get to his offense stance, he was kicked hard in the gut.
He screamed as he slammed hard into the fridge, his mug falling to the floor and breaking into pieces. The candles then went out, all the curtains drawn back to let the moonlight in.
"What the hell?" He whispered coldly, back on his feet in seconds. His hands began to glow again, eyes as well, ready for an attack. He scanned the room and ripped everything off the walls, searching and searching.
"Where are you?! Show yourself now or else!"
"My, aren't you the feisty one?" A robotic voice mused playfully though James couldn't pin-point where it was coming from.
"That's it. Azarath metrion zint-HMMPH!"
Out of the dark corners of the room, a...large red X flew through the air and slapped hard across James's mouth, stuck as if through crazy glue. James, with his power of flight returning, met the floor again as the impact knocked the wind out of him, he rendered defenseless if he couldn't finish chanting his incantation.
"Sorry pretty boy, can't let you finish up your magic trick." Another two large, red Xs met James's body, one restraining his arms and the other binding his ankles.
James struggled to break free from his restraints, screaming muffled by the sticky, tape-like thing over his mouth but nothing he did worked. He could feel his control slipping, eyes beginning to glow a crimson red.
'M-my powers! Ugh, if I don't get free now...I'll lose control! No, no, no! I won't let this guy beat me! AZARATH METRION ZINTHOS!'
"What the heck?!" The intruder backed away as James's "soul self" left through his body via astral projection, the large raven letting out a blood-curdling caw before it entered its opponent's body.
"Gah, get out of me!" He shouted, clutching at his head and trying to maintain control of his body.
'No! You messed with the wrong person, and now you're going to pay! Azarath. Metrion. Zinthos!'
Using whatever strength he still had, James forced his spirit to take flight; the intruder, with James's "soul self" still possessing him, screamed as he was phased through the ceiling. Blasts of dark aura bounced off the walls and small twin couches, they coming into contact with the Red Xs. They burst into black flames, falling to the floor in charred pieces; James's arms and wrists were free, but his body remained lifeless on the floor.
-Page Break-
"Ugh, you are some piece of work...!" The intruder snarled, a hidden smile on.
James was soon hovering over his fallen form, back in uniform and tentacles protruding from under his cloak.
"And you're an idiot. Why did you attack me, and how did you avoiding tipping me off? Only people with powers similar to mine can do that, answer me!" The intruder merely laughed though, the sound only infuriating James more.
"I said to answer me, do it now or I won't hesitate to blast you to another dimension! " he threatened, blasting his enemy again with a blot of dark aura.
He skidded across the street from the force of the blow, his back connecting with a nearby streetlight. He let out a groan but continued to laugh through the pain, James taking the minute to get a better look at this clown.
Yet his attire was everything but clownish.
He was wearing a white skull mask, though its lower jaw was missing and had a large red X over his right eye. The style of it was like a domino mask though, so James's couldn't tell the clown's eye color. He was shorter than the empath but had a strong lean build outlined by his skin-tight black suit. Across his chest was another large red X; he had elbow-length gray gloves, tiny red Xs at the backs of his hands, and heavy gray utility belt. His gloves had a ripped look to them, just like his cape; it was black and fell heavy over his shoulders like James's cloak did, tattered with a gray underbelly. To top it all off he wore knee-length black, steel-toed boots, tiny red Xs across his palms.
James inside felt confused, just who was this guy?
"Who are you? What do you want with me?" His tone was lighter, softer now. He could sense a well of emotions resonating from this masked stranger: anger, confusion, hurt, pride.
Confusion and pride towards what?
"It's not what I want with you, but why I forced you out." He said, getting to his feet. James had a torch of flaming aura in his right hand, aimed at his enemy like a gun while the other was limp at his side.
"What do you mean? You forced me out of my home, why? What do you gain?"
A silence fell over them, that causing James's blood to boil.
"If you won't tell me, then fine. I won't deal with a pest like you any longer, rot out here.." With that James concentrated all his dwindling energy on flight, eyes glowing white again.
"Sorry, not gonna happen." The masked boy soon tackled the empath to the ground, slapping another X across his mouth.
"Hmmmph!" James's shouts were muffled once more, the masked boy's eyes narrowing.
"Trust me, you'll be grateful." He hissed, James's death glare coming about at this.
'I'll be GRATEFUL?! This idiot! That's it, I'm letting Rage out! AZARATH. METRION. ZINT-"
Once again James was interrupted mid-incantation, but this time by a huge explosion.
-Page Break-
BOOM!
James's violet-blue eyes grew wide as his apartment was blown to bits, spell books and bed reduced to charred rubble while the orange-red, hungry flames devoured everything else.
Among the wreckage stood a tall, tall man.
A man with a black-and-orange mask, only one steely gray eye visible.
'Slade...!'
"Hmm, looks like the little raven made it out. No matter, he can't protect you forever. You'll slip up one of these days, Red X..." Slade said in that raw, powerful voice of his. The rising smoke soon consumed him, whisking him out of sight.
He was gone.
James stopped his struggling and looked into Red X's masked eyes, the thief carefully peeling the X from the empath's pale lips.
"Y-you...you saved me." He choked out, awe saturating his voice.
"I don't like playing the hero. Doesn't mean I won't, doesn't mean I don't know how." He responded in that heavily distorted voice of his, concealed bottle green eyes soft, warm.
James wanted to say more, do more but he had passed his limit. His body was weak and he soon lost consciousness, sleep overtaking him.
'He's going into a trance, he's healing himself.' Red X noted, shifting the taller, older boy in his arms. He looked up at the ruined apartment but before getting to his feet and pressing the button on his utility belt.
He broke into a sprint, not at all slowed down by the extra weight, and kicked high and hard off the ground; his cloaking tech kicked in right on time, they disappearing into the night.
'I'll protect you, James.'
