Sorry for reposting this, I forgot the last part sweatdrop and I forgot alot of editing. So I'm sorry!
…Fuck.
That was, Jet seemed to recall as he woke up, his last waking thought. His last waking though before what, exactly, he wasn't quite sure yet.
His eyes swept over his surroundings; a neat little room all made of white; white ceilings, white drapes, white bed, white sheets. A wooden nightstand beside the bed; a lamp and a small rectangular box on it.
This wasn't the hideout. That much he knew. None of the rooms in the hideout were like this; this hideously, blindingly white. This looked like some sort of hospital room. Or, rather, a bad charicature of one.
He sat up, kicking the bedsheets away. Two feet on the ground and a shudder went up his back; a sore jolt up his bones. He'd fallen from the hideout trees in the past; mostly during construction, when he had been still a bit nervous, still a bit clumsy, still gaining his feel for the treetops. That was what this felt like; the pain after the fall. It'd fade eventually, but for the time being it was a dull, consistent thud.
The freedom fighter still wasn't quite sure where he was and why, but he nonetheless found himself concluding this was an irrevocably bad day.
Ignoring the ache, he hoisted himself up ro his feet, briefly surveying the room before heading towards the door. His hand was on the doorknob, and he found himself loosely puzzling over the fact that something – he didn't know what – but something, felt different, felt askew about himself.
And then it hit him.
…
Shit.
Shitshitshitshitshit.
Jet darted back to the bed and violently tore the sheets from it ('now why would they be there?' a small voice in the bad of his head pointed out, but he didn't care). Within a moment, the nightstand was laying on it's side across the ground, it's three drawers strewn separately across the room. And; still nothing.
His swords.
Where the fuck were his swords?
Where the fuck were his swords?
Where the fuck were his swords?!
He took a deep breath, regaining himself (and yet, at the same time, planning out in his head the very bloody, gruesomely detailed demise of whoever had done this). He turned on his heels and left the room; there had to be something around outside of there that made everything make sense.
"Omi!" Jet overheard a voice say, "I still vote we, y'know, don't help the guy who tried to kill Kimiko."
"Why not?"
Jet raised an eyebrow; if anyone tried to kill any of the freedom fighters, he'd kill them a few times over. It'd happened before.
" 'Why not' you say?" the first voice mocked. Starting to sound a bit familiar… "Ooh, maybe – just maybe - because having him here might give 'im a chance to try again?"
Jet silently agreed with that reasoning, now starting to wonder who they were talking about.
"But by showing him the great kindness of helping him in his hour of need, he will be compelled to be kinder himself!"
What -
"And he will want to give us help in return!"
The -
"Therefore, he will not wish to kill Kimiko anymore."
Hell?
Jet, finally, looked into the room. Upon seeing the people conversing, he understood exactly what was going on.
The Fire Nation girl had burnt down the prison hut, and Jet had been unable to catch himself. Upon impact with the forest ground, he'd fallen unconscious. Apparently, one of the girl's friends was stupid enough to want to lend him help, and didn't realise that the hideout had perfectly good health equipment (some bandages and stuff). And now he was a place where the only thing he knew about where he was was that he knew nothing about it. He could be anywhere from the Earth Kingdom, to the middle of the Fire Nation.
The only upside Jet could find to this was that he got another chance at killing the girl.
"You know what, Omi? That's a great idea."
Omi beamed.
"That's a splendid idea."
He nodded proudly.
"And I've got another one. How about we bake cupcakes for Chase? That way, when he eats them, he'll see he never needed the soup. All he needed in order to be happy were the cupcakes. So, then, he'll say sorry for all he's done, join the Xiaolin side, and come stay in our basement living off fuck-didilly-ucking cupcakes!"
Omi's smile faded slowly.
"Listen, Omi." Raimundo snarled, tone no longer sarcastic, but still equally nasty. "I'm really sick of your overblown 'but ohhh they'll see the EVIL of their WAYS if we're just be nice!!!' ideas. We are not gonna keep a murderer around just 'cause you think that if we're all smiles and rainbows, he'll be too. Period. Fricking period, Omi. Period, period, period."
Omi seemed stunningly unfazed. He let out a slight sigh. "I suppose it is wrong of me to expect you to be as selfless and wise as I am." he admitted modestly. "But, nonetheless, I do not cease to be disappointed in you, Raimundo." With that, he turned and walked a way.
Raimundo blinked, veiled in silence for a moment; so taken aback he was rendered speechless.
By the time the enraged shrieking came, Omi was already gone.
-
The big-headed bald kid was coming towards the door. Jet flinched and froze for a moment, making up his mind, before darting back to the room he'd woken up in.
He was not surprised when the bald kid came in a few minutes later.
"Ah, so you have awoken." Omi stated cheerfully, and did a slight bow. "My name is Omi. And this is the temple; you willl be staying here for a as-of-yet unknown amount of time while you recover."
"Uh." Jet interjected, but Omi went right on talking.
"You may recognize me as one of the friends of the girl whom you kidnapped. That is correct. And thus, you may be confused as to why I have assisted you." he explained. "You see, that is simply because I happen to be a very kind, wonderful person. You will grow to love me. Perhaps I will even be a good influence on you." He flashed Jet a warm smile.
"Um." Jet was flabbergasted.
"Do not be too disappointed when you fail to achieve the great extent of everything I've achieved, though. It is unrealistic for you to strive so high. But you will be accepted and loved here no matter how less wondrous than me you are." Omi concluded, and left the room proudly; convinced he'd made a great impression.
Wow. This kid was as bigheaded as his head was big.
Jet shook his head and rolled over on to his side; going over his various options in his mind.
So, he could just go for it, kill her right off. No, he'd need a weapon for that…. Strangling would take to long, and would be to painful for Jets taste. He'd never be able to stomach it. He'd have to do it inconspicuously, but how? He'd have to get close to her to do that.
Close to her… he repeated the thought in his head. He wouldn't be able to inconspicuously be close to her, unless… all he had to do was gain her trust…
I have a few comments on this chappie
1: Major spaz on Rai's part
2: 'member the box on the bedside table? It is eviler than Chase Young and princess Azula put together. You are lucky you'l probably never find out whats in it.
3: Read and Review or else I'll sick the box on you.