Hello Reader,
I greatly apologize for the delay. Graduation is around the corner and you know what that means - CRAMMING FOR FUCKING REQUIREMENTS
i promise though, i'll be posting two more chapters this week.
Hope you enjoy.
ps: can anyone teach me how to make a decent linebreak that actualy appears when you read the freaking story? the strggle is fucking real
soundtrack for this chapter: When the Saints come Marching in by St. Snot
The Prank Wars
Part 3: When the birds come marching in
Starfire
Starfire woke up, green eyes blinking as she tried adjusting to the brightness of the room. The sunlight poured through the window, bathing everything in a peaceful golden blanket that made Starfire sigh. She pushed the blankets out of the way and stretched, smiling as she felt the satisfying pops run through her spine. She was halfway to the bathroom when she stopped, the smile on her face wavering a little bit. Something felt odd about her room. Her eyes roamed around, scanning through all of her possessions, trying to grasp where the strangeness was coming from. Everything seemed normal though.
She shrugged and continued on to the bathroom. The strange feeling came back the moment she stepped into the pristine white-tiled floor. Once again, Starfire paused, her emerald eyes scanning each corner of the bathroom before she slowly approached the sink. Her brows furrowed as she took her toothbrush and tube of toothpaste, not quite shaking the feeling that something's off.
The second she pushed her toothbrush inside her mouth, she knew that feeling was correct. Her face contorted into a series of disgusted and horrified looks before she threw her toothbrush to the side and spat into the sink, her mouth burning with the taste of mustard.
Starfire's hand shot up to cover her trembling mouth, shock coursing through her body. With a shaking hand, she picked her tube of toothpaste and brought it close to her nose, taking a wary sniff. It smelled like toothpaste. Sticking her tongue out, she pressed it lightly against the opening and gagged. That definitely tasted like mustard.
She stared at the tube of toothpaste in her hand, bewildered. It was obviously toothpaste; it looked like toothpaste, it smelled like toothpaste, but it did not taste like toothpaste. After a few moments of racking her brain for an explanation to this phenomenon, she concluded that her toothpaste must have expired.
She hesitantly threw the tube away and walked towards the shower, intending to wash off the morning's unpleasant surprise with a nice warm bath. She stripped naked and turned the shower on, letting a contented sigh escape her lips as she reached for her bottle of strawberry scented shampoo. She hummed Natasha Bedingfield's a pocketful of sunshine as she lathered her hair with a generous amount of shampoo. It took Starfire a few moments before she realized that she did not smell strawberries. She tilted her head to take a better sniff around her when suds from her hair trailed down towards her eyes.
Then, hell broke loose.
Starfire let out a chilling scream as she desperately rubbed at her eyes, trying to take the sting out. She reached for the shower hose, and as she opened her eyes to rinse them, she gasped in horror at her hands, covered with the sickly yellow of mustard. Within a split second, the alien was bombarded with everything about mustard – the tangy scent that now clung to her hair; the sticky residue of it on her head, hands and shoulders; the yellow trails of ooze that now traveled down her torso; and the burning sting of it seeping into her eyes.
Starfire continued letting loose a bloodcurdling scream as she dashed out of the shower, frantically grabbing for her towel. She barely ran out of the bathroom before she slipped on something and tumbled backwards. Groaning, she looked at the floor to see what she had slipped on. Her eyes grew comically wide at the sight of the yellow pool that spilled freely across her room.
Starfire reached for the sink, propping herself up with shaking limbs. As she took her hands off the porcelain surface, she felt a tacky feeling clinging to her palms and a sense of dread filled her as she turned them towards her. Her hands were oozing mustard. She did not know where they came from or how they got there, but she could clearly see her hands completely enveloped in the yellow substance, as if she'd just dipped them in a tub full of mustard.
It was all too much – the abundance of mustard all around her. In her dreams, it seemed so heavenly. But now, it was something out of a horror movie. And in the fashion of horror movies, she let out another spine-chilling scream.
Cyborg
A persistent beeping sound woke Cyborg up, making him groan as he lazily sat up, rubbing his good eye with one hand as the other eye came to life with red colored data, looking every bit like a miniature computer screen. Cyborg chuckled at that thought. Being half robot meant that computers were practically organs to him, yet it always never failed to amaze him how half of his insides looked like the JLA tower's engine, or how Batman's screen had the exact same interface as his robotic eye. Screw Google glasses, his robotic eye were scanning, alerting and transmitting him information even when he wasn't asking for it.
I've got a whole list of –
Cyborg jerked at the sudden sound, which disappeared just as quickly as it appeared. He looked around, trying to see where it came from. After a few seconds of straining his ears and hearing nothing but silence, he assumed that it must've been from Starfire's room.
He got out of bed and started tidying his blanket up when…
You can brush my hair-
Cyborg jerked again, hissing as he dropped his blanket like a hot potato. His heart raced as he stood still. That definitely did not come from Starfire's room. He scanned his room warily, his robotic eye zooming among his possessions. Just as it zoomed in on his poster of Michael Jordan, it blacked out and showed a quick snapshot of Lady Gaga, surprising Cyborg.
"What the hell-"he muttered as he took a step backwards. That was all he was able to do before his robotic eye fizzed out. Cyborg stood in complete silence, waiting for something to happen. When he thought that it was safe, he raised a hand to his eye while the other reached for the panel beside his head. His fingers barely brushed against the cold blue metal when his robotic eye sparked and showed a video of Jennifer Lopez. A couple of speakers popped out of his shoulder pads and bombarded the whole room with "Jenny from the block" in full volume.
Then, hell broke loose.
Cyborg's hand instinctively shot up to cover his eye. The last notes of Jenny from the block were barely finished before Britney Spears showed up, and the speakers boomed with her signature whiny voice singing to the sultry tunes of I'm a slave 4 u.
"Sweet Abraham Lincoln," Cyborg shrieked, clawing at the panel beside his head which seemed to be stuck shut more than usual. Panic raced through Cyborg's veins as he tried to collect himself despite seeing his room through one eye and Britney grinding her sweaty body against a half-naked guy's equally sweaty body through the other. His robotic eye fizzed out once more as it transmitted yet another video, this time of Ariana Grande belting out Focus. Ariana was flashing the left side of her face when Cyborg, in a hurried frenzy to get out of his room and ask for help, slammed against the wall, which he'd mistaken for the door. Being half-blinded by Ariana Grande was not the easiest of situations.
"Guys, I've been hacked!" Cyborg screamed in vain. He was obviously no match to Ariana's high-pitched falsettos.
Beastboy
Contrary to popular belief, Beastboy was not a lazy bum. He was actually one of the early birds – yes, pun intended. The reason for that was because of his diet. Being the only vegetarian in the team meant that he had to prepare his meals separately, and that usually required a lot of time. Just because he could be an animal didn't mean he had to eat like one.
So there he was, scouring the fridge for ingredients at 6 in the morning. He was thinking of tofu eggs and pancakes accompanied by a carrot smoothie. He set the ingredients on the kitchen island, fetching a chopping board and a sharp knife to chop the carrots. He whistled a carefree tune as he raised the knife at eye-level, admiring the glint in its silver steel. In one swift motion, he hacked off the tip of the carrot, the orange tip bouncing slightly as it separated from the rest of the vegetable. Beastboy paused; something felt odd. He hacked at the carrot again and cringed. There it was again – the strange feeling of slaughter. He raised the knife once more, inspecting the blade and the handle for anything that might rationalize his sudden unease.
After finding no fault, he shrugged and went back to chopping the carrot. But as he hacked at the vegetable with the dexterity of a chef, he noted with great discomfort how the motion felt hard and exhausting, as if he was hacking at meat instead of vegetable. The thought made his stomach turn. Beastboy shook his head and gripped the knife tighter. He was probably feeling off because of lack of sleep; he had been shaving off a couple of hours from his slumber for the past days. He resumed with the chopping, but stopped the moment the knife's steel made contact with the carrot's tender orange flesh.
Beastboy dropped the knife with a loud clatter. His heart raced as sweat rolled down the side of his temples. That last slice definitely did not feel like chopping a vegetable. If he was being completely honest, it felt like slicing through a big lump of lamb. Bile rose up his throat and Beastboy had to cover his mouth as he lurched forward, trying to keep himself from vomiting unceremoniously on the kitchen floor. If Cyborg caught him dropping off a barf bomb in the middle of the kitchen, the half robot would never let him cook again.
Beastboy took a deep breath as he stood straighter, fighting against the queasiness in his stomach. He was being ridiculous; he was clearly chopping a carrot. But he decided to do the tofu eggs and pancakes instead, hoping he could steam off whatever nonsense his mind was playing with him.
Walking over to the other side of the kitchen counter, Beastboy took out the tofu cubes, standing over the sink to squeeze out the excess water in them. He allowed himself a grin as he balled his fists up, relishing the feeling of stringy muscle bunching up as hot red juices spilled out through his fingers and down the stainless steel of the sink.
Everything moved slowly and painfully from there. Beastboy let out a gasp as he dropped the tofu cubes down, backing away with shaking legs. In his hurry to escape, he tipped over the tray of eggs, sending at least three white oblongs dropping to the floor. Their shells cracked with such intensity, the sickening crunch resounding throughout the whole kitchen. Egg whites and yolks splattered against Beastboy's shoes, making him whimper as he scurried away, bumping his head against a cupboard. Wide, green eyes stared at the massacre of broken eggs; only one thought came to mind: murder.
"No," he gasped, running his hand against his face. He stopped breathing when he felt something wet. Looking down on his hands, he saw the red juice he'd squeezed out of the tofu cubes – blood, blood in his hands.
"No!" he shrieked, taking a huge stride to run away. In a horrific turn of events, he slipped on the aftermath of his gruesome crime, landing face flat on egg fluids. He propped himself up with shivering arms, and let out an anguished cry.
-0-0-0-0-
Screams echoed throughout the halls of the Titans Tower. The beautiful morning gradually disappeared behind the grey clouds that inched their way closer, blocking out the golden rays of the sun and bringing the shower of rain and the promise of a storm.
But inside the walls of the tower, an even more menacing storm was brewing, one which Jump City has never experienced before. And in the middle of that storm stood two birds, calm and predatory as they eyed their prey, relishing their demise as they fell one by one.
Starfire was the first to fall. She flew into the room blindly, hands feverishly rubbing and clawing at herself as if to take something off, something only she could see. She never stopped screaming even when she collided against the bookcase and tumbled down.
Cyborg came next. He burst into the room, hands clamped tightly against his ears as he cried out in anguish, "MAKE IT STOP! PLEASE, MAKE IT GO AWAY!" His speakers vibrated with the cacophony of What does the Fox say, and his robotic eye flashed with different colors as it continued to bombard him with the horrific images of the song's music video.
And finally, Beastboy, the mastermind. He fell to the floor unceremoniously in a heap of moans and groans, crawling away from the kitchen with whatever strength he could muster. "I'm no better. I'm no better," he kept whimpering, leaving behind him a messy trail that could only be a concoction of various food and kitchen condiments.
Raven turned towards Robin, her face betraying no emotion. Only when her leader turned to her and offer her a grin did she allow herself a small smile. Turning back towards their fallen comrades, they stepped closer, Robin's hands crossed in front of him while Raven kept hers hidden behind her cloak, and looked at them with cold and merciless eyes.
"Game," Raven said, raising a hand glowing with dark magic towards Starfire, who immediately stopped rubbing her eyes furiously and gasped as her sight cleared, the yellow ooze that blinded her disappearing completely as if it never were.
"Set," Robin said with a smirk, taking out a device form his pocket and pressing a button. Cyborg let out a relieved, shuddering gasp as the music stopped and his robotic eye fizzed out.
"Match," Raven finished, squatting to poke a finger on Beastboy's head. The changeling blinked several times before looking down at his hands, his eyes widening to see them spotless.
The trio turned to face Raven and Robin, shock and horror coursing through them like a river.
