jackbotsattack | THIS IS A POST

[How could this have happened?

No, really, how did this happen? Time anomaly? A portal to another dimension opening up? A mutant who can break the fourth wall?

Who knows. The point isn't really how it happened, it's what it's done, and what it's done is bring Hajime to a back lot in New York City, near an abandoned basketball court.

Or it would be abandoned, if there weren't two people standing in it - a short boy wearing a beanie and a taller boy, wearing a jersey. At first they're the only ones there, until a robot rises from the ground, sporting a familiar head of red hair and goggles.The robot grabs whatever they were watching (it looks like a flying snake?) and then turns a big, fancy gun on the two boys, and begins charging.]

Edited 2013-11-11 05:17 (UTC)

[However it happened, Hajime's head is throbbing as he recovers from the warp. That, perhaps, could be responsible for his not noticing a certain familiarity in the huge mecha that appeared.

Regardless, one thing is immediately clear to him as the scene suddenly unfolds in the court: people are in danger. Hajime doesn't hesitate for a second before dashing towards the other boys to knock them away.]

Look out!

Edited 2013-11-11 05:39 (UTC)

[Jermaine and Omi both cry out in surprise as they're knocked out of the way of the blast. The gun fires harmlessly into the ground where they had been standing.]

Who is that!? And who's the other one!?

[Jack leans closer to his window at the top of the robot, squinting at the kid in the dumb ribbon, laying beside Omi and some other unknown kid in a jersey.]

New losers are crawling out of the woodwork to get squashed. [He presses the button for his mic, broadcasting his voice.]

I got the Wu, nyeh nyeh na nyeh nyeh!

[He starts charging the gun again.]

Are you two all right? You've got to get--

[Before he can finish, the speaker squeaks to life, and Hajime's eyes go wide. He whips around to gape at the mech.]

Jack--?!

Jack Spicer!

[Hajime and Omi cried out at the same time, and both gaped at one another in bewilderment.]

You know him?

I--ah--

[Before he can explain, the gun is up again. Omi and Germaine are quicker on their feet this time, dodging away, but Hajime's still too confused.] Jack, what are you doing?!

Edited 2013-11-11 06:05 (UTC)

[Omi and Jermaine move, but Jack is undeterred - he'll squash one, then the others. He missed the part where the dork in the ribbon knows him, and doesn't recognize him.

But before he can do anything, Dojo shoots up out of the ground smashing into the robot and knocking it onto its back. Jack is left momentarily dazed inside from the crash, while Wuya hurls abuses at him and tries to get him up, before they get away.

The Wu escapes the robot's hold and starts to flit around again.]

[Dojo's appearance was really great luck, because moving out of the way hadn't even occurred to Hajime: this was Jack, after all, he'd never do anything to hurt him.

Unless, apparently, he would. Hajime couldn't say if it was the ground shaking or his legs, as his lungs seize up and time slows--it was a mistake, or a misunderstanding, or he hadn't seen, because Jack wouldn't, Jack would never--

Not the slightest thought is spared for the monks, the massive dragon, or the flying talisman, as Hajime rushes to the fallen robot, trying to remember how to breathe but failing to keep a pitch of panic out of his voice.]

Jack?! Jack, are you all right?!

[Inside the cockpit, Jack groans and rubs his head, ignoring Wuya. That hurt!

But never mind that, he has a Wu to catch! He pushes open the hatch, ready to spring out and go after the Serpent's Tail, when he sees the ribbon kid standing over him.]

You again!? What's your probl- wait, how do you know my name?

Forget him, you fool! The monks are going to get the Wu!

[Jack looks between the screaming ghost and the stranger, then scowls and pushes past Hajime.]

Don't blow a gasket, Wuya, I'm going! Sheesh.

[The blades of his helipack rise into the air and begin to spin.]

[Jack didn't recognize him. How--how could he not...?

Too stunned to stop his friend (his friend, definitely, still, had to be) as he pushed past, Hajime blinked after him, before his eyes fell to the hazy wisp of spirit screeching over them, and faces her with a snarl.

It's the only explanation he can think of.]

What did you do to him?!

Clearly not enough, he's just as useless as always!

[Wuya throws up her wispy nubs that pass as hands in exasperation as she watches Jack scramble after the Wu with the monks. Then she seems to realize the newcomer just spoke to her, and turns to stare at him.]

Who are you, anyway? I haven't seen you before. Heylin? Or Xiaolin?

[She spits the word like it's dirty.

Meanwhile, Jack has grabbed the Wu... at the same time as Omi.]

Omi! I challenge you to a Xiaolin Showdown!

He's not useless--

[He forces himself to take a deep breath. He's had more than enough of nasty spirit mentors getting under his skin.]

I'm Yuuhi. [See, he can use words other people won't understand, too.

While Jack bickers with the monks, Hajime approaches, trying to put together what he can from the conversation. A duel over the ownership of the artifact? Sounded straightforward enough.]

--Unless I challenge you to a Shen Yi Bu Dare! Me and Jermaine against you and--

And me. An even match, I presume. [He stands behind his unfamiliar friend and shoots Jack a grin, challenging him to turn the offer down, while Raimundo groans.]

Man, I'm so lost--how much did we miss, anyway?

You again!? [Jack turns his head to stare at Hajime, expression a mix between confusion and irritation.]

Challenge accepted! You're falling down, Jack Spicer and- and- Who is this?

I don't know! [Jack looks back at his enemy, then at Hajime again. That expression is still there, until... a look of comprehension dawns.]

Oh wait... I get it! [Suddenly, a big grin.] You've heard about me, right? You want to learn evil skills from Jack Spicer, Emperor of Darkness!

More like Emperor of Dorks.

[Jack looks over his shoulder to glare at Kimiko.] Shut uuuuup!

[A wince.] Please. Your only rain on darkness is on laundry day. I can't just let you handle this alone, now, can I?

[He bows to the monks.] Tanaka Hajime, at your service! I do hope that you haven't been too hard on Jack.

What the hay is that supposed to mean?

[Rather than answering Clay, Hajime looks to Jack again.] I promise to make it worth your while, you won't complain about me not being evil, right?

[Jack looks like he's about to complain about Hajime not being evil, but then Omi interrupts.]

Who else could you pick, Jack Spicer? Wuya?

[Wuya, who has floated her way over in the midst of the argument, shakes her head.] No hands.

And no game. [Jack looks back at Hajime, sizing him up, then finally at Omi.] Fine, whatever. Let's just get this started. I wager my Jetbootsu and Shroud of Shadows against your Flip Coin and...?

The Falcon's Eye is the only other Shen Gong Wu I have.

That'll do.

[He leans forward, and together the two yell,]

Let's go! Xiaolin Showdown!

[And the scenery immediately begins to change. The court starts to rocket skyward, seemingly into space, surrounded by stars, the floor of the court falling away to the invisible ground below.

Jack wobbles to keep his balance but seems otherwise unsurprised by this turn of events.]

[One step forward, but he wasn't prepared for where it leads. He sucks in a breath through his teeth as the landscape changes, surging high and crumbling into darkness. His heart beats in his throat as he barely manages to keep his balance.

The only small comfort he has is Jermaine voicing his own nerves. Well, at least he's not alone.

He looks at Jack. He's not alone.]

Just another game, then, is it? [Jack's not scared--it looks like an every day occurrence, even. Just follow his lead. One more deep breath. See, he's not scared, either. This is fine. This is great.]

[Jack seems completely unsympathetic toward Hajime's plight, as he doesn't offer any words of comfort or encouragement as the ground falls away, leaving them suspended on thin rods.]

Yeah, a game. Basketball, two-on-two, ten minutes on the clock.

[He rummages around in his coat, then pulls out a piece of black cloth, which he then unceremoniously tosses over Hajime's head.]

I'm already wearing the Jetbootsu so you get the Shroud of Shadows. It'll make you invisible if you just...

[How does he even explain this? He's never had to before!]

You just... sort of say the name and... [He flaps his hand.] ...wave it...

[This sounds stupid.]

It'll come instinctively! Just trust me.

Stocks suck.

Jack hasn't felt this sore in a long, long time, and it's only been one day. His back aches, his legs fell asleep a long time ago, his wrists throb, and he didn't get any sleep at all for risk of crushing his windpipe against the wood. And that's only the start of the complaints - his stomach growls, his throat burns, and he hasn't been allowed a single bathroom break.

Really, the only the only thing that could make this worse would be if everyone could see him in this state - oh wait, they can! Of course they can.

Jack fixes his eyes on the dirt, to avoid looking at the free people of the campus. This can't get worse.

Now Jack, never say never. After all, this is COMPASS we're talking about and it is their goal to ensure you receive quality misery.

To this end Jack had been left in the socks for the past twenty-four hours. Every so often, the white coated figure would appear, a flurry of multiple tentacle like limbs scurrying across the ground as it came close. Due to Jack's position, one eye stalk had to bend down to peer up into his face, human hands making a note on the clipboard before the legs scurried off once more.

It was just a few hours after the start of the next day, when the sun was up and people were definitely moving around (wanted to make sure everybody was awake!) when Jack would feel the stocks shudder. There was a jerk, a clatter and then the top half lifted up and off his neck but before Jack might get it into his head to try to rabbit, unseen hands grasped him.

He was pulled back and away from the stocks, turned towards what looked to be a metal guillotine, just a few feet away. Here the hands failed Jack, because while they propelled him forward, they did nothing to support him, leaving him to his own devices on legs that had gone to sleep, hours ago.

Jack can't hope to stand. He goes falling forward, only saving his face by sticking his hands out at the last minute. His palms are scratched and bruised from the impact with the dirt, and his elbows smart from the sudden jarring of the fall. His knees will sport bruises, too.

Groaning, he flops over on his side. He momentarily forgot what was happening, but now, panting, he remembers the guillotine.

With a raspy yelp, he pushes himself back up as though to run, but his legs are still failing him and his back screams in protest being stretched out. He only succeeds in flopping over the other direction, onto the ground again.

There came that scurrying of too many limbs and in short order Jack would find a pair of eye stalks staring down at him. The white coated figure made no effort to either help him up or stop him from crashing around on the ground like a landed fish.

If anything, it appeared amused, one eye stalk going so far as to look out, beyond the Void, purposefully drawing attention to the fact that quite a number of people were bearing witness to Jack's display.

The other eye stalk twisted around and in a voice that came from somewhere around the collar of the coat, it spoke with very clear, distinct tones.

"Could you not have waited before soiling yourself?"

Was it telling the truth? Was it telling a lie? Did it matter, now that everyone had heard it's words?

Jack's breath hitched and he turns a bright shade of red that suggested the answer. He still can't really move, other than wiggling along the ground a bit, but he does his best to draw up to the best height he could and try to look intimidating. Hard to do when your eyes are puffy from crying and lack of sleep and your clothes are covered in dirt.

"Shut up! What do you know, you stupid worm? Don't you have any brains between those two creepy eyestalks!? I didn't do anything!"

The bright shade of red was answer enough and the eye stalks glanced down to the clipboard as notes were made.

It refused to be engaged in Jack's ranting, tentacle limbs scurrying past the boy with the same regard that some would give an ant, which was to say none. The unseen hands returned, grasping Jack at the back of his shirt, picking him up and showing him off in all his humiliating glory.

There was a blur of time then, the Void and the unseen hands a swirl of confusing motion until the next thing Jack knew, he was hanging between the metal frame of the guillotine device. On the positive side of things, this meant there was no blade in the guillotine. On the negative, Jack now hung by his ankles, like a pig held up for slaughter only beneath him he could see a deep, wide tub of black, bottomless water.

An eye stalk slid into view, the lidless eye peering at up at him.

"You worked for us once."

Jack doesn't take his eyes off the pool of water for the comment. Dread's growing in the pit of his stomach, and he's broken out into a cold sweat. He can't even think about the eye stalk looking at him or the people who are looking at him, right now his world is just him and the water.

The words filter through to him, and he responds automatically, "You guys fired me."

"You ceased to be useful," the white coated figure pointed out.

Then, without further preamble, Jack could hear a lever being thrown and a crash and would find himself hurtling downwards towards the pool of water.

A splash and he was submerged up to mid-torso, so he could not curl out of the blackness. It was just as dark within the water as the water had looked from without, making it impossible to see even if he did open his eyes.

Jack screams as the lever as pulled, but it's quickly cut off as he disappears under the water. Soundlessly, he keeps screaming, his mouth filling with water, which doesn't help.

He flops about like a fish on a hook.

Just that split second before the act of drowning may have released Jack from this terror, he was yanked back up and left to dangle, dripping.

Only long enough to grab a few breaths, to pick up a bit of hope and then the machine shuddered once again and he was dropped into the murky water. This would continue for as long as Jack either remained conscious or continued to flop and flail about.

The intention wasn't to actually drown him (though it probably felt that way at times) but to see just how long, he'd continue to struggle against the inevitable evidence of his own failure.

Jack catches enough air to scream, the first time.

He gives a tired squeak the second.

By the third dunk, he doesn't have the air to do more than wheeze pathetically. He's almost begging to pass out, to not have to feel the sensation of drowning over and over.

But it's not even that that really gets him - it's the laughing. He's hallucinating, but doesn't know it. All he knows is that hundreds of voices are laughing at him in unison, screaming with mirth and yelling out encouragements to the thing in the white coat.

It's that, the relentless mockery, that finally makes him give up struggling on the fourth dunk. They're all right. He must look ridiculous and pathetic. He deserves to be laughed at.

He sinks in for a fifth dunk, but he's not fighting it anymore, just panting harshly as he's dragged up, hands dangling down. Snot is falling down his upturned face from the repeated dunks. Good, it just completes the picture.

He's done. He's given up.

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