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Description
Reclaiming the Black Sands: Chapter 2

Back in the base Jack had thrown his clothes in a haphazard pile on the bathroom floor and pushed himself under the shower's scalding spray. Roughly towelling himself off, he stood and faced hisreflection in the steam covered mirror.
No amount of steam distortion could hide the dark mottled bruise that spread along his right arm and the side of his chest. Even as the water dripped down off his hair and was absorbed by the bath mat he could see that strands were singed, but nothing was broken, nothing physical at least.

Then again, that was the problem with clashing with the Heylin and Xiaolin sides so little these last few year, he kept forgetting how much it hurt.
The scrapes and bruises were nothing he was unaccustomed to, he got worse cuts off his own tools, it was the utter disdain they showed him. He could see it in their eyes, that he was useless and didn't deserve to breathe the same air as them, let alone compete against them.

He'd tried, God knows he had tried to be better. To be what they wanted him to be. He had crawled and simpered after Wuya and accepted her back time and time again. He had gone to the monks and been more humiliated by them than he had ever been by any member of the heylin side. He'd found a tutor, learned martial arts, he was even quite good at it. But was it enough? No, and Chase....well, he was never going to be what Chase Young would ever want, not in a million years. So he had stopped trying, stopped jumping into every fight he could and started paying more attention to the things he
truly loved; robotics.
Sure he crossed paths with the monks now again if the Wu was worth it, but it wasn't the same as it used to be, not by a long shot.

One hand braced against the fogged glass of the mirror, Jack looked into his reflection. Same red eyes, same red hair, same albino white skin but a man now. He was nearly twenty, it was time for him to leave his childhood behind for good. No more magic, no more showdowns.

“Let the monks think I've died” he though with a smirk, “Hopefully it will weigh on their holier-
than-thou consciences for a while.” He could feel his body calling for rest but he ignored it, he had a report to make so a cup of coffee would have fix him for now. There was a stranger in his lair and he wouldn't go to sleep until he knew that the man was secured should he turn out to be a threat.

His lair was no longer subject to the room in his parents basement, he had his own government funded facility now, complete with his own suite of rooms and enough space to fit a herd elephants should he wish it. As it as underground there was the small matter of no natural daylight but that didn't faze the young man in the slightest.

The unfortunate downside to being funded by the government was that you had to report to them at least once a week or they got seriously pissy.
Kripply's pug ugly face filled the main communication screen in Laboratory One.
He hated Jack, he had good reason to. Jack nearly cost him his job at one point.
At the tender age of twelve, young Jack Spicer accidentally hacked into the Pentagon's mainframe and downloaded a large amount of encrypted files. He then spent the next five years playing practical jokes on the United Department of Defence in his spare time. Spam mails, mild yet annoying computer viruses, swapping around the Hyperlinks, nothing particularly damaging.

It had taken the United Department of Defence five years to trace the problems back to the one bedroomapartment that Jack was staying in at the time.
After an exceedingly fun visit by a SWAT team and some nice government officials who seemed convinced that they had unearthed some new terrorist threat with plans of world domination, only to find that they had a seventeen year old boy with more robotic and computer skills in his little finger than they had in their entire department; they decided that, rather than imprison the teen, they should
employ him. At least that way they could keep an eye on him.

Professor R. M. Kripply was the head of the Ministry of Defences Technological Division, a job title that was offered to Jack after a small demonstration of his genius three minutes into his meeting with the secretary of state. Jack refused on the grounds that it would mean working alongside others. He preferred his own space and if the government were going to foot the bill, then
that suited him fine. As it stood, Spicer was viewed as a freelance researcher with an aversion to other human beings.

Jack had sent him a short message on the route home; outlining what he had found and where, refraining to mention why he was there in the first place and that he had picked up a passenger along the way.
The teen could see the vein pulsing in the older man's temple and luxuriated in the knowledge thathe really pissed off the guy just by breathing. His nonchalant pose, leaning against a raised lab table and wearing nothing but a pair of hastily thrown on grey sweat pants probably didn't help matters much. Kripply was a real sticker for the rules. Lab coats to be worn at all times, hair should be of an orderly length and in natural colours, that kind of man.

“- will you try to pay attention?” The professor's grating voice cut through Jack's mental drift. Jack apologised, he was trying to pay attention, his mind was simply on other things.
“-and put some god-dammed clothes on! Call yourself a scientist... I'll let them know what you have found. Have you made any progress with the McKenzie case?”
“Nope, sorry to disappoint you big man. Nothing since yesterday, but I'll keep you posted, kay?”
“See that you do”

The decrepit git terminated the transmission on his end and the enormous screen went black. Jack let the fake grin he had adopted fall, he was too tired for the man's bullshit attitude. It was only five in the afternoon and he was knackered and he still hadn't had a chance to see how his guest was doing.

“It's sickening isn't it?” he mused aloud, “Here I am getting so excited that I have some company,he's not even here by choice. This is ridiculous , I need to get out more.” He pushed himself off of the worktable and shrugged on the light robe he was handed. His JackBots knew he had no actually work plans for this evening or they would have offered him more suitable clothing.

Just as he was heading towards the medical ward, the panel on his wristwatch
flickered and filled with the visage of the JackBots he had left in the desert.
“Master Jack, the final count is two-hundred and thirty-two dead and one more found living but unconscious”
“Another guy like the one here?” Jack asked, still walking.

“Negatory. Unidentified species. Eel like in appearance but amphibian in structure. It bears the
same magical signature as the human male.”

“I don't have time to look at it right now, bring it in a bung it in a tank. Don't damage it.” He flicked off the screen and walked into the medical ward.

Description
Reclaiming the Black Sands: Chapter 2

Back in the base Jack had thrown his clothes in a haphazard pile on the bathroom floor and pushed himself under the shower's scalding spray. Roughly towelling himself off, he stood and faced hisreflection in the steam covered mirror.
No amount of steam distortion could hide the dark mottled bruise that spread along his right arm and the side of his chest. Even as the water dripped down off his hair and was absorbed by the bath mat he could see that strands were singed, but nothing was broken, nothing physical at least.

Then again, that was the problem with clashing with the Heylin and Xiaolin sides so little these last few year, he kept forgetting how much it hurt.
The scrapes and bruises were nothing he was unaccustomed to, he got worse cuts off his own tools, it was the utter disdain they showed him. He could see it in their eyes, that he was useless and didn't deserve to breathe the same air as them, let alone compete against them.

He'd tried, God knows he had tried to be better. To be what they wanted him to be. He had crawled and simpered after Wuya and accepted her back time and time again. He had gone to the monks and been more humiliated by them than he had ever been by any member of the heylin side. He'd found a tutor, learned martial arts, he was even quite good at it. But was it enough? No, and Chase....well, he was never going to be what Chase Young would ever want, not in a million years. So he had stopped trying, stopped jumping into every fight he could and started paying more attention to the things he
truly loved; robotics.
Sure he crossed paths with the monks now again if the Wu was worth it, but it wasn't the same as it used to be, not by a long shot.

One hand braced against the fogged glass of the mirror, Jack looked into his reflection. Same red eyes, same red hair, same albino white skin but a man now. He was nearly twenty, it was time for him to leave his childhood behind for good. No more magic, no more showdowns.

“Let the monks think I've died” he though with a smirk, “Hopefully it will weigh on their holier-
than-thou consciences for a while.” He could feel his body calling for rest but he ignored it, he had a report to make so a cup of coffee would have fix him for now. There was a stranger in his lair and he wouldn't go to sleep until he knew that the man was secured should he turn out to be a threat.

His lair was no longer subject to the room in his parents basement, he had his own government funded facility now, complete with his own suite of rooms and enough space to fit a herd elephants should he wish it. As it as underground there was the small matter of no natural daylight but that didn't faze the young man in the slightest.

The unfortunate downside to being funded by the government was that you had to report to them at least once a week or they got seriously pissy.
Kripply's pug ugly face filled the main communication screen in Laboratory One.
He hated Jack, he had good reason to. Jack nearly cost him his job at one point.
At the tender age of twelve, young Jack Spicer accidentally hacked into the Pentagon's mainframe and downloaded a large amount of encrypted files. He then spent the next five years playing practical jokes on the United Department of Defence in his spare time. Spam mails, mild yet annoying computer viruses, swapping around the Hyperlinks, nothing particularly damaging.

It had taken the United Department of Defence five years to trace the problems back to the one bedroomapartment that Jack was staying in at the time.
After an exceedingly fun visit by a SWAT team and some nice government officials who seemed convinced that they had unearthed some new terrorist threat with plans of world domination, only to find that they had a seventeen year old boy with more robotic and computer skills in his little finger than they had in their entire department; they decided that, rather than imprison the teen, they should
employ him. At least that way they could keep an eye on him.

Professor R. M. Kripply was the head of the Ministry of Defences Technological Division, a job title that was offered to Jack after a small demonstration of his genius three minutes into his meeting with the secretary of state. Jack refused on the grounds that it would mean working alongside others. He preferred his own space and if the government were going to foot the bill, then
that suited him fine. As it stood, Spicer was viewed as a freelance researcher with an aversion to other human beings.

Jack had sent him a short message on the route home; outlining what he had found and where, refraining to mention why he was there in the first place and that he had picked up a passenger along the way.
The teen could see the vein pulsing in the older man's temple and luxuriated in the knowledge thathe really pissed off the guy just by breathing. His nonchalant pose, leaning against a raised lab table and wearing nothing but a pair of hastily thrown on grey sweat pants probably didn't help matters much. Kripply was a real sticker for the rules. Lab coats to be worn at all times, hair should be of an orderly length and in natural colours, that kind of man.

“- will you try to pay attention?” The professor's grating voice cut through Jack's mental drift. Jack apologised, he was trying to pay attention, his mind was simply on other things.
“-and put some god-dammed clothes on! Call yourself a scientist... I'll let them know what you have found. Have you made any progress with the McKenzie case?”
“Nope, sorry to disappoint you big man. Nothing since yesterday, but I'll keep you posted, kay?”
“See that you do”

The decrepit git terminated the transmission on his end and the enormous screen went black. Jack let the fake grin he had adopted fall, he was too tired for the man's bullshit attitude. It was only five in the afternoon and he was knackered and he still hadn't had a chance to see how his guest was doing.

“It's sickening isn't it?” he mused aloud, “Here I am getting so excited that I have some company,he's not even here by choice. This is ridiculous , I need to get out more.” He pushed himself off of the worktable and shrugged on the light robe he was handed. His JackBots knew he had no actually work plans for this evening or they would have offered him more suitable clothing.

Just as he was heading towards the medical ward, the panel on his wristwatch
flickered and filled with the visage of the JackBots he had left in the desert.
“Master Jack, the final count is two-hundred and thirty-two dead and one more found living but unconscious”
“Another guy like the one here?” Jack asked, still walking.

“Negatory. Unidentified species. Eel like in appearance but amphibian in structure. It bears the
same magical signature as the human male.”

“I don't have time to look at it right now, bring it in a bung it in a tank. Don't damage it.” He flicked off the screen and walked into the medical ward.