Oy vey. This thing majorly sucked to write. Just so you know.
Sylver was a freaking lifesaver during this: she basically rescued it from its suckiness and made it half-decent. Which truly was a record-breaking feat. This thing, no matter how sloppy now, was absolutely dreadful before Sylver came along. She's amazing. She really is.
Anyway…there is so much that I want to say right now, but it's eleven o' clock and I'm exhausted. Just...read it. Please don't be harsh that this isn't really in "Seraephina-style". Please try to ignore the absolute plague of adverbs. xD
AND OMGAH! REVIEWER SURPISE!! AT THE END!! :D :D :D
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Prompt #13: Purple
Robin slammed his fist down on the coffee table, glaring impressively at the gathered men before him. "I already told you! It's part of the job description!"
A man clad in a too-tight blue leisure suit harrumphed and adjusted his tiny glasses imperiously. "Nevertheless, Robin, the citizens of our lovely city are not pleased with the rate of destroyed vehicles. Or the annual cost of repairing personal property. Not pleased at all."
Another man, this one rail-thin but with a massive tidal wave of gelled hair combed over his forehead, broke in. "It's not that we don't appreciate what you do for Jump City, Robin," he said earnestly. "It's just…well…you're so…destructive."
From the other side of the room, by the far window, Raven snorted imperiously, but when a few of the suit-clad men turned to look at her, her face was carefully composed into its typical blank stare.
Cyborg glowered at the crowd of elected officials, and his hand clenched around the seat of the couch. "You don't like our style? Then go find replacement heroes! Just don't come crying back to us when they can't save your sorry a— "
"Peace, Cyborg," Starfire interrupted. She stared imploringly at the businessmen in front of them. "Please, we do not wish to cause trouble. I am sure that we can improve upon our battle techniques. Is this not so, friends?" Starfire looked at her friends for support, her green eyes troubled.
A few of the men sighed, relieved, but a woman in a dark blue pantsuit cleared her throat haughtily. "Well, it's nice to know that at least one of your team members has the decency to mind her manners." Her sharp brown eyes narrowed arrogantly, and a few of her co-workers laughed appreciatively.
Robin felt a sharp stab of anger at the assembled businessmen. He gave a snort that rivaled Raven's and stood up abruptly. "I think you're overstaying your visit," he said sharply, and stalked out of the room.
"We'll be anticipating a dramatic decrease in damaged property this following month!" an overweight man with a lurid green tie called.
"I'm a man of my word," Robin growled back at them. "You'll get your damn results."
Beast Boy growled at them, and Robin distantly heard hasty footsteps exiting the room before he stepped out onto the balcony.
The cool wind felt good against his face as he slouched against Beast Boy's balcony wall. Damn politicians, he thought vindictively. An uncharacteristic anger tightened his throat, but he took a deep breath and tried to find his center, as Batman had taught him.
"Hey, dude," Beast Boy called, strolling out on the balcony. He perched agilely on the half-wall separating them from a long drop to the yard below. The government workers were gathering just below them, Cyborg apparently having kicked them out of the Tower. "Those guys are really annoying, you know? I'm surprised you didn't throw them out the window."
Robin sighed and curled his fingers into a fist. "I'm not really up for a pep talk, Beast Boy."
"Oh, I know that. I just figured you might be up for a little prank on Jump City's finest."
Robin looked up. Beast Boy was bouncing a massive eggplant on one palm, looking smug.
"I'm totally going to drop this thing on their heads," he explained jubilantly. "Serves them right, for having freaking heart attacks over a couple dented cars."
"I don't think that's an amazing idea, Beast Boy," Robin said cautiously.
Beast Boy laughed. "Whatever, dude. You know you'd totally do it if you had the chance."
That stung a little. Robin crossed his arms. "I'm a little more mature than you assume, Beast Boy."
"Wanna bet?"
Robin raised his eyebrow slightly. "Fine."
Beast Boy grinned devilishly. "I so bet you won't drop this eggplant on them."
Robin looked out the window again, knowing that his masked stare was probably just as pissed off as Raven's, albeit in a more reasonable sort of way, and felt a massive surge of irritation towards the business suits trampling the struggling flower beds that no one ever really remembered to water below the balcony. He frowned, hoping that he had maybe inherited Batman's rumored gift for shooting little lightning bolts out of his eyes, and was a little disappointed when he didn't. So disappointed, in fact, that he then slouched against the wall and mumbled, "I bet you I will."
Beast Boy was stunned for a moment, and then a wide, wicked smile split his face open. He tossed the eggplant to him and settled back against the window ledge. "Do it."
"What?"
"Drop it."
Robin settled himself more securely against the wall. "I was joking, Beast Boy."
A wide grin was stretching across Beast Boy's face. "Thought you were a man of your word, Robin. You're gonna go back on that? Break a promise to me?"
That was definitely below the belt. Robin glared at Beast Boy and pushed his back hard enough to the wall that he could maybe pretend he was glued there.
It wasn't that he didn't want to drop a large, misshapen vegetable on the carefully-structured heads of Jump's finest businessmen. He was pissed off enough to drop the freaking T-car on them. He just didn't particularly want to deal with the aftermath.
But Beast Boy actually had a reasonable, if annoying, point.
Robin let out a frustrated breath and un-glued himself from the wall, which Beast Boy seemed to take as a go-ahead. They both peered over the window ledge at the teeming crowd beneath, just a mass of business suits and overly-gelled hair. Robin laughed, nervously. "They look…fragile."
"Dude, it won't do any damage. It'll just, you know, scare them."
"And maybe stain their very expensive business suits."
"Hey, I thought you said you would do this." He nudged Robin in the ribs, then winced—and Robin couldn't help but feel a sly sort of amusement for a second that six months of grueling ab workouts had actually paid off.
Robin frowned and tossed the eggplant from hand to hand, attempting to stall for a little more time. "You do remember that we're good guys, right? That we're supposed to be protecting these people?"
Beast Boy grinned easily, light glinting off of his fang. He snatched the eggplant from Robin in mid-air and sank his teeth into it with a slurping sound. "Yeah, but…" he swallowed some, mouth stained purple from the juice, "…y'know, if we don't find some way to get rid of this thing, I'll have to use it in dinner. Because it is my night to cook." He stared at Robin, the tiniest hint of a mischievous smile around his mouth. "Dude, this is like five pounds of vegetable. And I'm going to make you eat all of it."
Robin blinked, staggered. He'd known Beast Boy was reasonably intelligent, even if he didn't show it. But this was absolutely calculating.
As far as he could see, he had three options.
The first: Refuse. Just say no and all that. Walk away. Subject himself to relentless taunts and flee with the knowledge that Beast Boy would just sucker Cyborg into the bet. Also, be bludgeoned into eating eggplant for dinner. Eurgh.
Second: Agree. Drop the stupid thing on the businessmen. Instant gratification, but several, if not more, consequences, such as (but not limited to) yelling, angry executive types, general disturbing of the peace, ect. However, a large purple projectile whizzing towards the overly-shiny heads of the corporate types was an alarmingly attractive mental image.
Third: Smack Beast Boy. Take eggplant. Throw it into a dumpster somewhere (interchangeable with feeding it to Silkie). Keep constant eye on Beast Boy for next three years to make sure he never, ever, ever bought an eggplant while in firing range of a corporate building.
He really wasn't much into vegetables, regardless of the obvious health benefits. Besides, he had supplements. Fred Flintstone vitamins never went out of style.
He wasn't much for angry executive types either, but he really wasn't up for constant supervision every time they passed a grocery store.
There wasn't really much else he could do besides weigh the eggplant (minus a dripping bite) in his hands and sigh, "Five pounds, you said?"
Beast Boy cheered and clapped him on the back. "Do it now, dude! Before they grow any more gray hairs!"
Robin looked down, down, down at the milling horde. He glanced at the large purple vegetable in his hands. Then back at Beast Boy.
"Where did you even get an eggplant, Beast Boy? It's the middle of November."
"Stop stalling and drop the thing."
Robin looked down again. The people looked terribly breakable. He felt his palms start to sweat a bit, and the eggplant slipped slightly in his grip. "You do know that this goes against my very strict internal code of conduct, don't you?"
"You don't even have to do anything, Robin. Unless Cyborg screwed up the 0-G thing in the workshop again, gravity's gonna do the work for you."
Another sigh.
And then, strangely enough, Robin found himself wondering just how amazing the eggplant would sound imploding against the shiny bald heads of the businessmen, so he sucked in a breath and did what he always did:
He acted.
The eggplant seemed to drop very, very slowly. Wheeling around in midair. It seemed to get more solid as it fell, actually, and Robin's never-ceasing brain fitfully spat out calculations to keep him from going into shock.
Five pounds would drop maybe nine feet per second, and there was probably about seventy-six feet between the ground and Beast Boy's balcony, but if you gauged in the drag of the oddly-shaped mass and figured in that the inertia had possibly affected it as well then it would take about thirteen seconds to fall, which meant that it had about one-point-three-nine-five seconds until it hit, which meant that the screams would be starting right about…
Now.
It was quite a beautiful thing, Robin realized, a little belatedly. The wet, juicy sound of implosion as it collided with several shiny heads at once. Those great splinters of eggplant-membrane flying everywhere. The vividly purple stains coating a circumference of about twenty people, give or take.
Beast Boy was choking on his own laughter, but all Robin could do was grin in a slightly shocked, slightly impressed, slightly amused, slightly terrified-that-his-job-title-could-very-well-be-stripped-from-his-Spandex-at-any-given-moment sort of way.
"Dude, that was awesome!" Beast Boy shouted, very nearly giddy.
Robin finally laughed, and once he started, he couldn't stop. It was pretty awesome, now that he thought about it. Very…satisfying. In a weird way. It was actually…fun, he realized. To go against his strict honor code. To loosen up a little.
Okay, so maybe he wouldn't do it every day. But it sure was one hell of a good time. For today, at least.
Oh, who am I kidding? he thought, looking down at the vividly purple group of politicians below him. This was awesome.
The door behind them suddenly opened, and they both spun around, slightly guilty expressions flashing across their faces. Raven took one look at their flushing cheeks and glanced over their shoulders at the furious, purple-splattered crowd below.
She finally raised one eyebrow and shook her head slowly. "Do I even want to know?"
"Uh…not really," Beast Boy managed. He grinned weakly and rubbed the back of his head, a nervous tic from his days with the Doom Patrol.
The tiniest hint of a smile quirked her lips, but she turned around before it fully materialized. "Fine, then."
She gracefully avoided a reeking pile of Beast Boy's dirty laundry as she strode back towards the living room. Robin started to look at the green changeling with a bit of a relieved grin on his face, but Raven stopped at Beast Boy's door, her voice interrupting him.
"Hey, Beast Boy," she called, leaning against his doorframe. Her expression was blank, but her eyes were terribly, terribly amused. "I was thinking I'd take over your shift for dinner tonight…do you know any good recipes for eggplants?" She stared them down, unflinchingly stony as they flushed. Robin felt a bead of sweat roll down his forehead, and blinked it away before it stung his eye.
That Raven might go down and tell the businessmen precisely why they were covered in eggplant innards was a very real possibility. Even if she did it as a joke. A very cruel, very Raven sort of joke.
She stared at them for another second or two, the tiniest ghost of a smirk tilting her lips, and then she turned back to the kitchen.
Beast Boy turned and looked at Robin, a flicker of fear in his eyes.
"She wouldn't," he murmured, sounding unconvinced.
Robin looked at Raven's retreating back, then back down to the purple-splattered crowd below them, remembering the faint smirk on Raven's face.
She would. She so would.
"So, Beast Boy," he said slowly, the nonchalant sound of his voice only just failing. "Where exactly do you hide when it's Starfire's turn to cook?"
He had the rueful feeling that they were going to be cowering for a long, long while.
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Well, that was interesting, wasn't it? But, the part I've been drooling over for six chapters!! :D
The Reviewer's Surprise!!
Here's the deal. For the next five chapters of the fic, you get to pick the word. Crazy, yeah? So, in a review, just put the word you want for the next chapter. If you'd like, you can also add a plotline, pairing, whatever you want. And you can do this for every chapter. So, for this chapter, I'll take every word suggestion I get, and put it in a hat. I'll draw a word. I'll write the fic. I'll repeat this until I finish the five fics. And, of course, I'll add any other words I get in reviews on the five fics.
Just a couple rules:
-One word per review.
-You can submit a new word for every chapter. I'll just keep adding them to the hat.
-No slash pairings, PLEASE. I'm Christian, I tolerate homosexuality, I adore my gay guy-friends to death, but I don't really enjoy writing it. Spare me, please.
-Any other pairings go. Seriously. Sylver requested, in advance, a Kid Flash/Star with Terra/Robin. As you can see, Sylver is the absolute queen of crack!fics...so if you have something that seems pretty out-there, don't worry. I can handle it. :)
-Have fun with it! :D I'm so excited to see you guys' ideas!
Love and cupcakes,
Phina
(By the way, did I mention that SYLVER IS A FREAKING LIFESAVER? No? Too bad. :D)