A/N: Okay, I admit it. Everytime I start a fanfic for a series I've never written for before, I'm always a bit nervous. Well, those past times are nothing like this one; I don't consider myself an expert on Xiaolin Showdown by any means xD;. Yet, I decided to give this a go, at least once. It is my first try, like I said, but I hope you enjoy it anyway.
Black, White, and Grey
Boy. Boy genius. Evil boy genius. These were the things he tagged himself with, and the things he was thinking about as he stared at his reflection. Outside, the sun had barely begun to rise. Within, Wuya was currently absent; whether she was sleeping (if disembodied purple spirits even did that) or simply felt like being absent, he could really care less. All he knew was that, like most other days from about 5 AM to 7 AM, he was alone.
Jack leaned forward, pushing up his nose and stealing a glance, then grabbing his bottom eyelids and tugging downwards. All this constant fighting was starting to put bags under his eyes, which really showed against his pale skin. Well, when a bruise the size of a young monk's fist wasn't covering them up, anyway...
He stepped back, looking his reflection up and down again. The daily fights and Showdowns weren't doing much good on the rest of his body, either, although he noticed that here and there a bit more muscle tone was beginning to show. When his mind struck that point, he grinned lightly at himself and flexed one arm, watching his biceps bulge (well, they bulged in his head. In reality they only swelled a tiny amount). Putting his fists at his hips, his grin grew and he let out a short, pleased humph and turned, walking away from the mirror.
Grabbing his trenchcoat off a nearby shell of a Jack-Bot, he opened it and slid it on his body without pausing in his steps, buttoning it closed as he walked behind a table. The lightly bouncing tendrils curled around his ankles, moving even when he was still, waggling a bit as he leaned over to grab a toolbox sitting on the edge.
Ahh, the trenchcoat. It was his favorite part of the outfit, besides the heli-pack, which didn't count right now as he wasn't wearing it right now. So currently, the coat was his top favorite. He had gotten the darkest black one he could, and had modified the bottom hem himself to look like the torn and tattered edges of a crawling shadow. It just said "Evil", which is what he wanted, and what he was.
Nah. Jack shook his head several times, making a face afterwards. He was evil, no bones about it. Getting a wrench from the toolbox, he told himself that repeatedly as he opened the chest cavity of another robot and began to work.
He had always been evil. Well, except for perhaps those first few years of life, but those don't really count in the whole "Always Evil" argument, to him anyway. Regardless, life in the shadows was all that he knew. He had grown up with it, gone to bed with it, and now ate, dreamt of, and breathed it. Problem is...
He sighed, putting down the wrench and looking at half of his reflection in the bot's body, the other half cut off by the open hole.
The problem is, he wasn't very good at it. Yes, he tried. He tried like hell, never staying on the ground long when he was knocked down, and never (okay, rarely) letting himself get talked into doing something that went against his master scheme. But still, even the most braindead clod could tell he was getting tired of all the failures. And that he was starting to see that, as it went, he just wasn't very good at being evil.
Throwing down the wrench, Jack stuffed his hands into his pockets and stormed away from the table, glaring at nothing ahead of him. He may not be very good, but it was all he had! He had never known anything but evil, and he chose to become this way.
Stopping in his tracks, angry demeanor fizzling rapidly, he blinked several times. He...had chosen to be evil, right? Sure, his family didn't have the best reputation. A distant relative owned this huge computer systems company. Another owned some online service carrier, although Jack himself had never paid much attention to it. His own parents, grandparents, and a whole smattering of others had encouraged him to take this path.
Or had they...forced him? Trying to think back did no good; he didn't much remember who goaded him towards evil, how, and why, all he really remembered was the feeling of becoming that way. He looked down at the floor, turning his head until he saw his shadow stretching out behind him. It didn't really matter, he guessed. He was evil now, and that's what counted. Even if he stunk at it.
Starting to walk on, he wondered if he'd be this way for the rest of his life. He'd had a few tastes of "the good side" over the years, and sure it felt different, but...it wasn't unpleasantly so, usually anyway.
The heli-pack was scooped off the floor and rested against his back, as he fastened the front clasp. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice spoke up that told him to leave this home, and never come back. That he could give good another try, and make it work this time.
That voice was soundly squished.
Walking outside, Jack huffed to himself. Even if he did "defect", he wouldn't be trusted. Those monks jumped at the chance to beat him down, often without hearing what he had to say first (granted, what he had to say was usually an insult, but that isn't the point here). No, he didn't think he could ever make it on the side of good, even if he wanted to.
Which he didn't.
A small whirring filled the air as the blades rose and began cutting the sky. He put on a smirk as he jumped in the air, off to fetch a quick, annoying-spirit-less breakfast before the next Shen Gong Wu decided to reveal itself. As he turned away from the sight of his home get increasingly smaller, he flinched reflexively as he flew through a cloud.
Evil is what he was, evil is what he always would be. And a genius, for that matter. An evil genius. And it'd never be any other way. Sure it was hard, and most of all it was lonely, but...
Blinking once, Jack took a hard left, letting out a little eep as his body swung to one side. Shaking it off, he flew in the direction of the temple, wondering if any of them were awake yet.
The forces of good have to eat too, right? He smiled for a moment, glad no one was around to see it. Maybe...being evil could wait, for just a little longer...