zeshaika: (Default)
[personal profile] zeshaika
Title: Project Nexus
Chapter: Not So Happy Days
Rating: T
Fandom: TGWTG/ Spoony Experiment
Character(s): Nostalgia Critic, Nostalgia Chick, MarzGurl, Spoony, Linkara, Doctor Tease , Doctor Insano, Professor Celluloid, Malachite, Bennett The Sage
Pairing(s): None
Warnings: AU. mild language, violence.

Disclaimer:Any recognizable characters that appear in this fic are property of their respective contributors at ThatGuyWithTheGlasses , therefore I do not own them, nor do I intend any disrespect toward either the character or the contributor portraying them. Also any concepts/ideas borrowed from Power Rangers/Super Sentai are property of Saban and Toei, respectively. Any other properties mentioned/used are also property of their respective owners.


*Special Note: This chapter marks the beginning of this story being co-written with EsaEnai of Fanfiction.Net,I strongly encourage you to check out her work, especially if you are a Lord of the Rings or Doctor Who fan.


The black and white hallways of the school were completely silent, and the reviewers tried to make no noise as they hurried through them. The only noises were the faint sounds of the cheerleaders up ahead.

“I don’t know where they are,” the head cheerleader was saying. “But we’re going to find them. Tegon said he picked up at least two of them on his sensor, so the other three have to be nearby.”

Linkara shot them a meaningful look of I told you so.

“What of the anomaly?” One of the other cheerleaders asked in a dull, calculated voice. The reviewers jumped slightly; it was the first time they had heard a Synthspector’s voice. It sounded like what a statue would sound like if it could talk; metallic and disquieting.

“Not a concern.” Devafen sounded anxious.

“Tegon does not believe so,” another Synthspector said in a similar voice. “Tegon wishes to speak with you about it.”

The sound of footsteps up ahead stopped abruptly, and the reviewers stopped as well, hugging the wall of lockers in order to stay hidden.

“Well,” Devafen hissed, voice full of acid. “If the almighty Tegon wishes to speak with me about it, he can bring his scaly self down here! I am not his pet.”

“Careful.” A new voice echoed down the hallway. “The almighty Tegon may take offence.”

The reviewer’s eyes widened. Linkara, ignoring the Critic’s fervent gestures for him to stay back, dared to peek his head around the corner to get a look.
The Synthspectors had stopped in perfect formation, ten similar-yet-different cheerleaders staring blankly into space. Devafen, still in the guise of a blond teenager, was staring daggers at the new visitor- Tegon himself. The dragon-man looked the same as ever; which is to say, he was in full color. After hours of monochromatic boredom, it almost hurt Linkara’s eyes.

The sight was bizarre- a black-and-white preppy cheerleader and a full-color dragon-man, glaring at each other in the middle of a high school hallway. Eventually, Devafen smirked. “Nice of you to join us. We were just talking about you.”

Tegon’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t push me, Devafen.” He said, “And do not presume to act as though I’m the one who has been ignoring their duties. Where have you been?”

Devafen examined her nails, demeanor as languid as a cat lounging in the sun.

“Where I was supposed to be;” she replied, “here, with the girls, keeping an eye on the place. Or did you forget who we were looking for?”

“I did not,” Tegon growled. “And they’re not here.”

“What?” the cat woman replied, her eyes widening.

“They’re in the town. At least, two of them are. I found them near that ridiculous soda shop.”

Linkara felt Chick’s nails dig into his arm, pulling him back around the corner. “Two of them. Spoony and Marz. They’re back in town. We went the wrong way.” She let him go, scowling at the Critic, “Well done, oh fearless leader.”

Critic pushed her slightly. “Wha- coming here was your idea!”
“Was not!”
“Was too!”
“Was not!”

“Shhh!” Linkara hushed them, as Devafen and Tegon had begun to speak again.

“…about that little… blip on our radar,” Devafen was saying, “The one we couldn’t identify….”

Tegon hesitated then said, “Lord Malachite did not inform me of any new allies of Insano’s team.”

“And in any case,” he added loftily. “It doesn’t matter. We have what they came for.”

Tegon snapped his fingers. The sound of marching feet was heard, and muffled shouts. Linkara poked his head around the corner again, and his eyes widened.

There, in the center of a group of dead-eyed greasers, was Sage. His hands were tied behind his back, his mouth was covered in tape, and his eyes were glued to Tegon in absolute disbelief.

Devafen smiled devilishly, body stretching and morphing until she was once again her original feline form- color and all. She rested a single sharp claw between Sage’s eyes, tilting her head.

“Nice to see you again, Bennett. You always were such a fun little captive,” the catwoman all but purred, “So amusing to see how quickly your clever little threats melt away when you meet someone who can actually carry them out.”

Tegon seemed bored. “Devafen, leave him alone.”

The cat woman purred again, eyes dark. “Why? You know I like to play with my food before I eat it.” Sage’s knees buckled, and the Synthspectors’ grip on him tightened.

“I took him from the critics, you fool,” Tegon snapped at her. “They’re bound to come after him, and in any case, the veil over his eyes has dropped. If he does not remember, he will soon. We must consult with Lord Malachite on how to proceed.”

Devafen hissed at him, hackles rising. “Oh, you’re no fun at all. Fine. Run back to Malachite with your tail between your legs. I’ll watch the Sage. Maybe we can play a game.” She grinned at Sage, baring sharp teeth. “Cat and mouse, perhaps?”

“Don’t touch him, until I return.” Tegon glared at her, and the greasers shoved Sage away, leaving no time for him to escape before the cheerleaders’ hands tightened around his arms. With that, Tegon and his Synthspectors blinked out of existence, as though the air had folded around them.
Linkara sunk back behind the corner, stomach sinking as he considered the facts.

Sage was captured, and they only had mere minutes before he was warped back to Malachite, provided they didn’t decide to kill him there.
They couldn’t take on Devafen and her army of cheerleaders without Spoony and Marzgurl.

Spoony and Marzgurl were nowhere to be found.

As he met his friends’ eyes, the comic book reviewer came to one logical conclusion.

We are so, totally screwed.
-------
Back out in the alleyway, Spoony wasn’t taking the situation much better than Linkara, or anyone else was.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid.” MarzGurl heard him groan through a pain-addled fog.

Marzgurl’s eyes blinked open, squinting hard. Everything seemed too bright and too sharp. The sirens didn’t help.

Sirens?

“Stupid, stupid, stupid!” Spoony’s face came into view. He looked furious. “God, I’m so fudging stupid. Tegon! Right under our noses! And I let him get away! How could I have been so fudging stupid?! It was so obvious!”

Marzgurl blinked again. She realized she was lying in a pile of rubble, which Spoony was digging her out of.

“Shut up,” she managed to croak out. “Help me up.”

His eyes brightened at the sound of her voice, pulling her out of the rubble. “You okay?”

She nodded, then stopped as the movement made her dizzy. “Yes. No. You?”

Spoony was covered in dust, and had his hands pressed tightly to his ribcage. “Yes and no, too.”

Marzgurl gave a dazed glance to the malt shop- or, the remains of it, more accurately. Police cars were parked nearby. Screams still cropped up here and there.  Vaguely, in the back of her aching mind, she was surprised by the appearance of police officers. They didn’t seem like a necessity in a place as stereotypically serene and peaceful as this. But, then again, she thought, police officer characters did occasionally make appearances, so it wasn’t like they didn’t exist.

“I think…” she said, grogglily, “we should morph.”

Spoony’s eyebrows shot up, and she shrugged.

“Everything hurts less in the suits.” She explained.

He nodded, and the two typed in the codes to their morphers. Within seconds, the Blue and Yellow Nexus Rangers were standing, full color, in the middle of Pleasantville. A few nearby teenagers saw them and screamed, but they were past caring.

Marzgurl tilted her neck, carefully, from side to side. The pain in her head had lessened to a dull ache, and she was able to ignore it. That being said, though, she tried to make a mental note to immediately get to the infirmary after getting back to base.

Spoony stretched, taking a deep breath.

“Alright. Better. Now, we better call Insano.”  Spoony said as MarzGurl nodded, and he tapped a few buttons on his morpher. “Insano? Come in. We just got the shit kicked out of us. Sage is gone. Tegon took him.”

Nothing. Spoony tried again.

“Come in, Insano,” he repeated, “We’re alone here. The Chick has flown the coop, and she took the guys with her.”

There was absolute silence from the morpher, and Spoony frowned.

“Insano,” he said, the note of panic and frustration in his voice becoming clearer, “that’s not funny. Talk to me.”

An electric pop, a low buzz, and the speaker died completely.

Marzgurl felt a small coal of panic begin to burn the bottom of her stomach.

“Why can’t we contact them?” she wondered aloud to herself.

Spoony was silent. He kept fiddling with his morpher, cheeks beginning to darken with frustration under his helmet.

“Spoony,” Marzgurl said slowly, trying to keep herself calm. “What’s going-”

“I don’t know!” Spoony exploded, “Tegon just showed up and body-checked us into a wall, we lost Sage, the other three are nowhere to be found, and Insano’s gone! We’re all alone, and we failed! That’s what’s going on!”

And with that, he shot out a foot and kicked a nearby wall hard enough to loosen a brick and send it crashing to the ground, cursing under his breath.

“Hey. We can swear again. It must be the suits,” Marzgurl realized aloud.

In the back of her mind she realized she was probably supposed to be more upset. Whether that was shock, or simply her realization that she would have to be the sane one in the situation, she didn’t know.

“It must be the…” Spoony trailed off, seething. “WHO THE FUCK CARES? Sage just got taken from right under our noses!”

“Exactly,” Marzgurl said calmly, “He was taken. So where was he taken? Tegon said something about meeting his friend… it must be Devafen. So where would they meet?”

“Dunno,” Spoony shrugged, still angry, “Somewhere with a lot of people. Somewhere they wouldn’t stand out.”

At that moment, a burning banner floated to the ground. “PLEASANTVILLE VS. RIVERSIDE.”

They looked at each other. Spoony couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.

“That’s convenient.”

-----
“Fudge, fudge, fudge.” The Nostalgia Critic didn’t do very well under pressure, and at this point it was a wonder he wasn’t beating something to death with his bare hands. The Red Ranger was in the beginnings of a full-fledged panic attack. “Fudge, fudge, FUDGE.”

Chick slapped a hand over his mouth, muffling his repeated censored-swearing.

“Oh, stop being such a girl,” she hissed. “And keep your voice down. Cheetara and her perky minions aren’t that far away.”

“What are we going to do?” Linkara asked the two of them. “Critic, you’re our ‘leader.’ Any bright ideas?”

“Sorry,” Critic muttered, pulling away from Chick’s hand. “I’m terrified beyond the capacity for rational thought.”

“Stop quoting Ghostbusters and think!” Chick snapped. “What do we do?”

Before anyone could respond, Linkara held up a hand for silence. A faint sound echoed down the hallway, coming from behind them.

Footsteps.

The three of them reacted as one, throwing open a nearby door and ducking inside what turned out to be a broom closet. Squished together unpleasantly, they held their breath. From outside came the sound of marching feet.

“Stop where you are,” a Synthspector said. There was a short silence, and then softer steps were heard.

“Who the devil are you?” Devafen snapped, and they could hear the snarl in her voice.

A noise was heard- an odd, crackly sound that brought to mind radio static. A chuckle. “Not the devil. Only a close friend of his. A pleasure to finally meet you, Devafen.”

The reviewers felt an involuntary shudder in the pits of their stomachs. The new voice was unlike anything they had heard- deep and mechanical, with an underlying screech. Like someone dragging a metal nail across a chalkboard.

Devafen’s voice was unsure. “How do you know my name? Who are you?”

“I was sent to collect the prisoner,” the voice said. “Hand him over.”

Devafen laughed. “Do you think I’m an imbecile?”

The voice chuckled again. “You don’t trust me?”

“Not an inch.”

“What if I told you we had a common goal?” the voice said. “That we work for the same man?”

“I’d call you a liar.”

“But it’s true. Lord Malachite recruited me, as he did you.”

Devafen hissed. “If you believe I’m about to hand him over to a-”

“How is your son, by the way?”

There was a long pause. Chick mouthed, ‘Son?’ to her co-workers, who shrugged as best as they could in the cramped space. Devafen didn’t seem the motherly type.

“What are you implying.” The way Devafen asked it, it wasn’t a question.

“I’m only making conversation,” the voice said craftily. “Catayan, isn’t it? Very young. Malachite seems to like the boy; he keeps him around, anyway. It would be quite a shame if his favor changed due to some careless action on someone’s part.”

A low growl was heard. “How dare you-”

“A careless action such as… oh, I don’t know. Refusing direct orders from your master’s new General?” The voice paused, rubbing it in. “But that would certainly be foolish.”

The growl died away. There was a shuffling sound, and another muffled shout from Sage. “Take him. And leave my son alone.”

“Go back to your master. He’ll be wondering where you are. For your son’s sake, be quick.”

There was an odd worp noise, and then silence.

“What now?” Linkara mouthed. Critic squirmed his hand up to face level, and pointed to his morpher.

“I think only Darth Vader is left out there,” he breathed. “Let’s curb-stomp him, grab Sage, and go find Spoony and Marz.” The other two shared a look, then nodded. Together, they dialed in the code and the Nexus Rangers took shape.

Unfortunately, they transformed in an extremely crowded broom closet, and almost immediately tumbled out in a multicolored heap that would have reminded one of skittles falling out of a bag. While it wasn’t exactly the entrance they were hoping for, they straightened up as quickly as they could.
Critic threw up his arm and pointed at the new foe.
“Alright. Hand over the nerd and no one…” Critic’s arm dropped to his side. “Holy shit.”


The General was a monster. Every inch of him was covered in shiny black armor, interlocking panels that vaguely reminded them of scales. His entire head was encased in a helmet, shielding his face from view. The design was oddly reminiscent of a shark; sleek, sharp, and unfeeling. As they watched he tilted his head to the side slightly, as though considering the best way to kill them.

The Critic sucked in his gut, clenching his fists, trying to regain a fraction of the composure he’d lost in the General’s presence.

“You heard me,” he repeated, “Hand him over.”

The General extended his hand, and from the center of his palm sprang a long, metal bo staff. He swung it in front of him, twirling it between his fingers idly

“Nice try,” Critic smirked beneath his mask, “but Malachite already pulled that card.”

Ker-shunk.

Three sharp blades sprouted from the sides of the staff, turning it into a deadly-looking pitchfork. The staff, oddly enough, began to hum.

The Critic gulped. “That’s new.”

The General’s glove tightened around the spear. “I’ll give you three seconds. Three.”

“Critic,” Chick warned, but the Red Ranger laughed.

“Nice try. Count again, genius. It’s three to one.”

“Two.”

“Critic,” Chick echoed, more urgently.

“One.”

Before anyone else could speak, the blades shot off of the staff, slicing into the Rangers’ suits. The cuts weren’t deep, but as the blades touched the suits the reviewers fell to the ground. Pain arced through their bodies, and they began to slip into unconsciousness.

Electric, Critic thought numbly. The damn spear is electric.

And, ironically, the same thought that had run through Linkara’s head less than ten minutes ago flashed through the Critic’s.

We are so, totally screwed.

------
(Previous/Next)

Profile

zeshaika: (Default)
zeshaika

August 2014

S M T W T F S
     12
3456789
10111213141516
17 181920212223
24252627 282930
31      

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Sep. 24th, 2017 02:07 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios