Xiaolin Showdown does not belong to me.
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The battles of Shen-gong-wu were always a flurry of blurry shapes, of mouths spewing witless stupidity and chest bursting with adrenaline, but they were never dangerous. Ignorant minds thrown into an ancient leisured war of principles, greed and righteous justice.
The teeny tiny child of the water, so pampered and deprived, who was constantly fighting with confident dancing leaps, surefooted kicks and lightening fast punches, trusting his powerful crushing water; he stepped into a showdown with a whimpering simpering genius. Oh, how they fought…! Toe to toe, neck to neck, head to head with a whirlwind of flashing leaps, excited banter, and cackling laughter that ending in choking screams.
The teeny tiny child of the water, so pampered and deprived fell and fell in eyes of python emerald, peacock zinc , blue jay sapphire and macaw ruby. Plummeting to earth ever so ungracefully with soft sickening thuds, blood blossoming, flowering and dying against dull red robes and finally landing in tragic childhood heap of too big scarlet red robes on the cold cold floor.
Dragon of the Wind, so nimble and quick, leaped into action, summoned swirly gusts of wind to catch the falling child warrior.
"Omi!" the ebony haired girl of burning flames cried, as her naive eyes took in the splotches of streaming blood pooling on the ground.
She saw nothing and everything; the blood was spreading in twisted vines across the ground, speaking the horrors that had unfolded. Yet the tightly tensed hunched form of the wind warrior blocked her view and would not budge at all, but the blood…the blood…ohgodtheblood.
"Raimundo…? Came the calm voice of the earth's vessel, who unlike the fire child, saw the subtle shaking of Raimundo's shoulders, the way his body was wound tightly around Omi and most creepy of all, the soft sighing sobs that cruelly tortured his ears. Yes, he saw the blood being painted and dried on the ground, but in his eyes, he only witnessed the trauma that was to unfold.
Still, what they saw the most was the small boy that lay so still in Raimundo's steel-like grasp. Blood coloured his robes a darker, more sinister red, spreading like a rose blossoming on his head, finding its way back into his slightly open mouth, like a snake; though his rising and falling chest soothed them a tiny bit, lighting up a hope's flare.
Omi's small black eyes opened after much fluttering. "I…won…" he whispered with bursting pride and then said goodnight.
Tears splashed on his head and his warm little body was immediately surrounded by three cold bodies. The battles of Shen-gong-wu were always a flurry of dancing blurs, but never this deadly.
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I am back and it feels good to have a computer again. Yes, this is my newest pet project, its my new baby that took me months to develop. Whispers will be updated once I get a good feel of it again.