The Tusk
Story 2: Jazz Club
The move to Tuscaloosa was a leap into the unknown, but for the Guardians, it was a welcome one. After the trials of Chima and the resolution of their most recent crises, the team needed a fresh start—a chance to step back from the constant threat of battle and focus on rediscovering life outside of war.
The team had pooled their resources, including the wealth Jay had inherited from his father, Cliff Gordon, to settle into the city. Midtown, a lively neighborhood brimming with character, became their new base of operations. A series of condos tucked into the heart of the community provided a perfect balance of privacy and connection to the world around them.
Though they had the financial means to live comfortably without working, the Guardians quickly agreed that blending into their new surroundings meant more than just showing up. They needed to be part of the community. And so, one by one, they took on jobs that suited their skills—or, at least, that offered an interesting challenge.
Mack became the organist at Resurrection Baptist Church, finding joy in channeling his musical talents into worship services. Still, his sights were set higher. "A cathedral," he said to Pete one day, grinning. "That's where I'm headed next. But for now, I'll make do with a smaller gig."
Lloyd found a quiet kind of satisfaction working at an antique store in nearby Northport, where he could appreciate the history of the objects around him and lend a hand to curious customers.
Zee and Nya opened a dog grooming clinic in Midtown Village, their dynamic partnership drawing loyal customers—and a few mishaps involving overly enthusiastic puppies.
Kasey, always upbeat, became a hostess at Texas Roadhouse. Her charm and energy made her a natural at the job, though she couldn't resist cracking a joke about how much bread she carried in a day compared to her training equipment.
Cole and Morro found a way to use their ghostly forms constructively, partnering with the local police force for behind-the-scenes operations. While their incorporeal state meant they couldn't be openly out in public, the cops appreciated their ability to gather intel where no one else could. "Ghost ninjas," one officer had said, shaking his head. "You guys are awesome."
Kai turned his energy toward fitness, landing a job as a trainer at a gym downtown. Between his high-energy sessions and his tendency to cheer on every client as if they were a competition finalist, he quickly became a favorite.
Pete took on handyman work, starting a small business that catered to homeowners and local shops. His down-to-earth attitude and knack for fixing just about anything earned him a steady stream of customers—and the occasional batch of cookies as a thank-you.
And Jay, ever the tinkerer, worked as an ambulance mechanic. The job kept his hands busy and his mind focused, and he took pride in knowing his work kept the community safe.
Though life in Tuscaloosa was a far cry from their days in Ninjago or Chima, the team found themselves slowly settling in. The city's rhythm was different—quieter, yet alive with opportunity.
For Wu, Garmadon, and Misako, the Guardians' move was a bittersweet relief. Finally, the old masters could enjoy the quiet life they had so long been denied. The Guardians still visited Ninjago frequently, keeping the bonds of their past alive while embracing the possibilities of their future.
Mack, for his part, found himself drawn to the nearby St. Joseph Catholic Church, where he had started attending RCIA classes. The journey of faith he had begun in July was now taking shape, and each class brought new understanding—and new peace.
The Green Ninja had grown into a confidence he hadn't known before. Feeling good, there was one more endeavor he wanted to take on…
The University of Alabama School of Music; Tuscaloosa
Earth
Tuesday September 3, 2019…
The rehearsal room at the Moody Music Building hummed with potential. The warm tones of instruments being tuned filled the air as eight musicians gathered for their inaugural rehearsal. It had taken weeks of planning, auditions, and coordination (not to mention renting a rehearsal space), but Mack had finally done it—he'd put together a jazz ensemble.
The room itself was modest, with crimson acoustic panels and wide windows letting in the late summer sunlight. At the center stood a well-loved grand piano, its polished surface reflecting the light as Mack adjusted the bench and set down his charts.
"Alright," Mack said, standing and addressing the group. "Welcome, everyone. I'm Mack, and I'm thrilled to get started with all of you. This ensemble is all about collaboration, so don't be shy about sharing your ideas as we go."
The group responded with murmurs of agreement and a few eager smiles.
Mack took a moment to glance around at the musicians he'd gathered, each one a talented piece of the puzzle.
Carrie, perched confidently on a stool with her alto saxophone resting across her lap, flashed a bright smile. Her reputation as both a saxophonist and vocalist had made her an easy pick for the group.
Beside her, Sam adjusted the reed on his tenor saxophone. He was easygoing, with a warm demeanor that immediately put others at ease. Mack had immediately picked up on Sam's friendliness during auditions—especially when he spoke about his girlfriend, Abigail. Sam seemed to light up whenever he mentioned her, and Mack had no doubt that same enthusiasm would shine in his playing, which had a signature breathy quality while still being full-bodied and warm.
Perhaps smoky was the best way to describe it.
Tanner, his best friend and the group's trombonist, leaned back in his chair, greasing his slide with practiced ease. The two had auditioned together, their chemistry as musicians undeniable. Tanner was a mysterious guy, quiet and reserved, but his technique was immaculate—near perfect tone and incredible precision in every register, no matter the tempo.
At the far corner, Jordy and Sonny joked quietly while tuning their trumpet and guitar, respectively. Professor Mickey, a seasoned bassist with years of experience, chatted with Zeke, the group's young and energetic drummer.
It was a diverse mix of personalities, but as Mack looked at them, he felt a quiet confidence that this group would click.
"Let's start with something simple, a tune everybody knows," Mack said, pulling out sheet music for Autumn Leaves. "We'll run it through a couple of times, then open it up for solos. Sound good?"
The group nodded, and Mack sat at the piano. The first few bars were tentative as the ensemble felt out each other's timing and style, but by the second run-through, something shifted. The music began to flow, each instrument finding its place in the tapestry of sound.
When Mack gestured for solos, Carrie stepped up first, her saxophone singing with a smooth, melodic tone. Sam followed, his tenor sax adding a rich, soulful counterpoint. Jordy's trumpet soared above the mix, while Sonny's guitar brought a playful warmth to the arrangement.
As they transitioned into In a Sentimental Mood and later Blue Monk, the energy in the room became palpable. Laughter and applause broke out after each solo, and the initial nerves melted away.
"This," Mack said after a particularly tight finish, "is gonna be something special."
As the rehearsal continued, Mack's focus wasn't just on the music. Sitting at the piano, he could feel the energy in the room—not just the creative spark of the ensemble, but something deeper.
It was subtle at first, but as the session went on, Mack became more certain: Sam's presence radiated the familiar chill of the Elemental power of Ice. And it was strong. Mack's fingers hovered over the keys as he considered what to do.
Leave it, he told himself. The fewer people wielding Elemental power, the better.
Still, it lingered in the back of his mind, especially when he turned his attention to Tanner. There was something… different about him, too. Tanner's presence was… unusual. It wasn't like Sam's Ice power—clear and distinct. Instead, it felt elusive, as though it were deliberately hiding from him.
The energy sent a faint prickle up his spine, but Mack pushed the thought aside. This was a time for music, not speculation.
By the end of the rehearsal, the group was buzzing with excitement. Instruments were packed away, conversations flowed freely, and plans for their next session were already being made.
"Great work today," Mack said, standing by the door as the musicians filed out. "We have this room Tuesdays and Thursdays from 10 to 12, so we'll be back together very soon!"
"That was awesome," Sam said, packing up his saxophone. He turned to Tanner. "Man, did you hear Carrie's solo? Smooth as butter."
Tanner grinned. "Yeah, you're right. And you weren't half bad yourself."
Sam chuckled, then leaned over to Mack. "I've gotta say, Abigail's gonna love this. She's always telling me to branch out and try new things—she'll be proud I didn't flub my first rehearsal."
Mack smiled. "Well, tell her she's welcome to come to one of our shows. We'll be putting on a good one soon enough."
Carrie lingered for a moment, her alto sax slung over her shoulder. "You've got a good thing here," she said, smiling. "This is gonna be fun."
Mack grinned. "Of course it's gonna be fun—it's jazz."
As the door closed behind the last musician, Mack leaned against the piano, letting out a long breath. The first rehearsal had gone better than he'd hoped, but the faint traces of Elemental power he'd sensed still gnawed at him.
Focus on the music, he reminded himself. For now, that's enough.
The warm glow of a late summer afternoon blanketed Tuscaloosa, the sunlight reflecting off the glassy surface of the Black Warrior River. It was the kind of evening that seemed made for slowing down, for appreciating the quiet moments—and Jay and Nya were determined to do just that.
With their lives as Guardians (well, Jay as a sworn Guardian and Nya as a stalwart ally) often dominated by battles and world-sized crises, the couple had learned to cherish their time together during periods of peace. Tonight was no exception.
Jay adjusted his collar as they approached the Midtown Village theater, where a colorful marquee advertised the latest blockbusters. "Okay, so… comedy or action?" he asked, glancing at Nya with a grin.
Nya smirked. "How about both? That way, you get your explosions, and I get something to laugh at when things inevitably go sideways."
Jay chuckled, holding the door open for her. "Fair enough. One ticket for chaos coming right up."
They settled into their seats with popcorn in hand, Jay stealing glances at Nya as the previews rolled. She caught him looking and raised an eyebrow. "What?"
"Nothing," he said, grinning. "You just look really happy."
"I am," she replied, leaning closer. "And it's nice to see you relax for a change."
For the next two hours, the theater was filled with laughter and the occasional gasp as explosions lit up the screen. Jay couldn't help but comment on the ridiculous stunts, earning a few playful shushes from Nya.
After the movie, they headed to a cozy restaurant downtown—a spot Nya had picked out for its candlelit tables and locally sourced menu. The ambiance was warm and inviting, with soft jazz playing in the background.
Jay held out Nya's chair for her, earning a teasing smirk. "Since when are you such a gentleman?" she asked.
"Since always," Jay shot back, his grin widening. "I'm just stepping up my game."
Over dinner, they talked about everything and nothing. Jay recounted a funny moment from his new job as an ambulance mechanic, and Nya shared stories from her dog grooming clinic.
"You should've seen this little schnauzer today," Nya said, laughing. "He was so excited for his bath that he jumped into the tub before I even turned the water on."
Jay chuckled. "Sounds like my kind of dog. Bet he'd love a good thunderstorm, too."
"You and your storms," Nya teased. "You'd probably get him one of those tiny raincoats, wouldn't you?"
"Of course," Jay said, pretending to be offended. "What kind of dog parent do you think I am?"
As the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, Jay and Nya strolled along the Black Warrior River. The gentle sound of water lapping against the shore created a serene backdrop, and the streetlights cast a golden glow on the path ahead.
Jay reached for Nya's hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. "You know," he began, his voice quieter now, "I think this is my favorite part of the day."
"Yeah?" Nya asked, tilting her head to look at him.
"Yeah," Jay said, his gaze fixed on the river. "Because it's just us. No battles, no missions… just you and me."
Nya smiled, leaning her head on his shoulder. "Yeah. It's nice to just… be, you know?"
They walked in comfortable silence for a while, the stars beginning to peek through the twilight.
As they reached the end of the path, Jay stopped and turned to face Nya. "Thanks for today," he said, his tone earnest.
Nya raised an eyebrow. "You're thanking me? This was your idea."
"Yeah, but you went along with it," Jay said, grinning. "And it turned out perfect. So… thanks."
Nya laughed softly, shaking her head. "You're such a dork."
"Your dork," Jay corrected, his grin widening.
"Always," Nya replied, standing on her toes to kiss him softly.
As they walked back to the Midtown condos, hand in hand, Jay felt a quiet sense of gratitude. For all the chaos and uncertainty in their lives, moments like this reminded him why they fought so hard to gain the peace they now enjoyed.
The warm hum of conversation filled Loosa Brews, a lively downtown bar tucked along the bustling streets of Tuscaloosa. Its dim lighting, exposed brick walls, and cozy wooden tables gave it a rustic charm, and the air carried the faint aroma of craft beer and fried appetizers.
On this particular night, the bar had drawn an even larger crowd than usual. A small stage near the back, usually reserved for local bands, was set with microphones, amplifiers, and a gleaming grand piano. Mack's jazz ensemble was about to make their debut.
The Guardians, seated at a table near the back, had claimed a spot with a clear view of the stage. They had arrived early, eager to support Mack in his first performance since forming the group.
"I still can't believe he put this all together in a month," Kai said, leaning back in his chair.
"That's Mack for you," Jay replied, taking a sip of his drink. "He sets his mind to something, and boom—done."
Lloyd nodded. "This is his thing, though. Sure, he's a badass who slays evil and all that, but deep down he lives and breathes music."
Cole and Morro lingered near the edge of the room, keeping to the shadows. As ghosts, they avoided drawing attention, but Cole's gaze drifted toward the stage more than once, and it wasn't necessarily the music that drew his attention…
"Good evening, everyone," Mack said into the microphone, his voice steady. "We're really excited to be here tonight. Thanks for giving us a chance to share some music with you. Let's start with a classic—this is Take the A Train."
The first notes filled the bar, and the chatter softened as the crowd turned its attention to the stage. Mack's fingers danced across the piano keys, setting the rhythm as the horns came in, their harmonies crisp and vibrant.
Carrie took the first solo, her saxophone cutting through the room with a tone that was both smooth and bold. Mack watched with quiet pride, his hands flowing effortlessly across the keys as he supported her.
Sam followed with a soulful tenor sax solo that earned a round of cheers from the crowd. Again, Mack couldn't help but notice the faint, icy energy radiating from him—strong and unmistakable. Instead of pushing it aside, Mack allowed the energy to enhance his experience of the music itself.
The setlist flowed seamlessly, from upbeat standards like Blue Bossa to slower, more contemplative pieces like Round Midnight. The energy in the room grew with each song, the audience responding with applause and nods of appreciation at every solo.
At the back table, the Guardians were visibly impressed.
"This is amazing," Kasey said, leaning forward with her chin resting on her hands. "I don't even like jazz!"
"Well, I do," Kai said with a shrug. "And it's still amazing."
Meanwhile, Cole stood near the bar, his eyes fixed on Carrie as she played a particularly moving solo. There was something about her—her confidence, her connection to the music—that struck a chord in him.
"She's good," Morro said quietly, watching Cole out of the corner of his eye.
"Yeah," Cole replied, his voice soft. "She is."
Morro raised an eyebrow. "I hate to burst your bubble, but… you know you can't talk to her, right? Ghost and all. It's dark in here, so people can't really tell from a distance, but up close…"
"I know—we have a secret to take care of," Cole said, his gaze lingering for a moment longer before turning back to the bar. "Just… watching."
Though he did wish, more than anything, that he could talk to that girl playing the saxophone...
As the set neared its end, Mack stepped up to the microphone again. "Thanks for being such a great audience," he said, his smile warm. "We've got one more for you tonight—this is All of Me."
The room quieted as the band began their final song, a lively yet tender arrangement that seemed to capture the essence of the evening.
For the first strophe of the song, Carrie put down her saxophone and took to the microphone, the warm tones of her alto voice melting the room like butter. Then, the tune took an exciting turn; Carrie took up the saxophone again, and the horns traded playful melodies as the rhythm section kept things tight and Mack's piano tied it all together.
When the last note rang out, the room erupted in applause. Mack stood and gave a small bow, gesturing toward the rest of the band to share the spotlight.
As the crowd began to disperse, Mack rejoined the Guardians, his face flushed with excitement and exertion. The group ordered a round of drinks as the celebration began.
"Great show," Lloyd said, clapping him on the shoulder.
"Thanks," Mack replied, his grin widening. "It felt good. Really good."
Jay raised his glass. "To Mack—and the Jazz Club premiere!"
The group laughed and clinked their glasses together, the mood light and celebratory.
Nearby, Carrie packed up her saxophone, glancing toward the Guardians' table with a faint smile. Cole noticed but quickly turned his attention back to the group, his expression thoughtful.
"See something you like?" Morro smirked.
"Shut up," Cole muttered, though a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
Morro sighed. "It's not impossible, you know. I mean, look at me and Zee."
Zee smiled as Morro put his arm around her. His touch was cold, but she didn't mind.
"It's just not the time or place," Morro added.
Cole nodded, and the rest of the night wore on, full of laughter and celebration as the Guardians and their friends enjoyed this night of triumph in their new community.