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Topic: fanfiction
[Power Rangers: Space Patrol Delta (SPD)] (One-Shot)
The bleak halls were filled with the new cadets. Little eight-year-olds rushing about, trying, desperately, to find their rooms. One, however, was idly marching about, staring down at his book. He was an odd kid. He wore long-sleeved shirts, long pants, and usually wore gloves over his bare skin. He had a mess of hair and pale-ish skin. He wasn't exactly picture prefect for his first day at the academy, but he was dressed nicely and was reading the handbook.
"CARSON!" It was a bully. He was with two henchmen who were shoving people out of the way.
Carson kept walking, not looking back. He seemed to not have heard the boy. Carson looked at his schedule and hurried around a corner to find his roommate. He stopped again. Was this the right hall? There were kids that were eleven to thirteen walking around here! Perhaps he'd picked up the wrong schedule? He looked down. Nope, it had his name on it. The room number was 207145. He looked up and saw it was at the end of the hall, the door open. With a sigh, he put his book back into his greenbackpack.
Carson had taken no more than two and a half steps when he was wheeled around. He was staring up at an eleven-year-old kid with a badge that read "Dru", which was probably his name. Dru slammed Carson into the wall, a soft snap escaping his shoulder as he felt his shoulder blade crack.
"You Cadet Carson?" Dru demanded.
"Y-yes." Carson was frightened. This was just great! Like everyone else, they were about to pick on him and bully him into doing something he really didn't want to do. "M-my n-name i-is Br-Bridge Car-Carson."
"Toss his stuff." Dru nodded to his fellows who took Bridge's stuff and tossed it in the nearby garbage chute. Bridge struggled to get loose, but Dru's grip didn't falter. "You know what? We don't need a freak like you wandering about this place. Why don't you leave, along with all your stupid stuff? You freak of nature."
With a might blast of blue energy, Dru was flying backwards, as were his two buddies. Another kid, about the same age, stood, one palm-side out, and the other resting on his hip. He had sandy brown hair that was spiked, his eyes were a rich, royal blue, his face was straight and stern, his skin was pale and smooth. He wore the uniform of the academy, neatlyironed,giving him a stiff out-streatched hand was glowing slightly. "Hey! Dru! I thought Crugger said that we weren't supposed to frighten the new kid!" He marched over and another short blast sent Dru and his two dudes running. He turned to Bridge who recoiled. "Bridge Carson?"
"Y-yes?" Bridge scooted back to the wall, hopping this cadet wasn't going to blast him as well.
"Did..." He was pointing at the chute. "Where's your stuff?"
"In the garbage. Hey!" Bridge wasn't sure why, but this boy was being nice. He'd just jumped down the garbage chute after Bridge's stuff, making the other kid wonder what he was doing. "Wait! You don't even know what my stuff looks like!"
"I'll find it!" He dissappeared into the darkness of the chute.
---
Bridge was sitting by the chute whena womanwalked past the hall. Although young looking, she was almostone-hundred fifty-years-old. She hadcurrly hair with two tan cat ears poking out of the mess of brown currles. Her eyes werehazy emeralds embedded into fair skin with a touch of sweetness. On her cheeks were marks of an alien species. Canine teeth that were longer than usual, making a feline look about her. This was Dr. Katherine Manx, the scientist who'd helped Bridge get his stopped, back tracked, turned to look at him, and almost yelped. "Carson! What're you doing? Aren't you supposed to be with your roommate?"
The boy stummbled around the corner, holding Bridge's backpack and his duffle bag. "These had better be the right ones." He suddenly stood at attention when he saw the woman. "Dr. Manx."
"Cadet Tate." Dr. Manx gave a slight bow of her head. "Why are you all dirty and smelly?"
"Cadet Dru decided to throw Cadet Carson's stuff down the chute." Tate sighed and dragged the duffle bag and backpack behind him. "I need to talk to Carson now."
"All right, carry on." Manx slowly walked away, being careful not to come near Tate.
Bridge looked down at his feet, a feeling of guilt building up as Tate came closer. For every step, Bridge's guilt became worse ten folds with each soft, squeek of Tat's sneakers. "I'm sorry."
"Don't worry 'bout it." Tate held up Bridge's stuff. "You, uh, want me to carry it?"
"No, I'll carry it." Bridge took his stuf and felt Sky pat him on the shoulder. A feeling of happiness spread through Bridge from Tate's hand and piled up, relieving his guilty feeling. "Thank you."
"Eh?" Sky stared down at Bridge. "What'd I do?"
"No one accepted me. You aren't picking on me and you feel happy, so I feel happy." Bridge smiled.
"I'm happy? No I'm not. I'm filthy and grouchy." Tate crossed his arms. "How can that be happy?"
"Well, technically, happiness dosen't have to be all happy smiley, it can be frowns and tears, or tears and smiles, or smiles and laughing, some people think that it's better to be happy smiley happy, but there's also happy sorrow happy, happy angry happy, so there's a variety of happy, when you think about it."
"What?" Tate looked like he didn't speak that language.
"Uh, nevermind. What's your name?" Bridge picked up his duffle bag and hiked his backpack onto his shoulder.
"Schuyler Tate. You can call me Sky." Sky kpet looking sideways at Bridge.
"You think I'm weird." Bridge had said it so suddenly.
Sky was taken aback. "Uh, no. Not weird as in creepy weird. You and me are two of a kind."
"Eh?" Bridge stopped. "Two of a kind?"
"We both need mental control on what we do with our powers. You forced me to come and protect you. I had no choice. Your psychic form forced it's way into my body and forced me to make a sheild that forced Dru back."
"I did that?"
"Yes, Bridge." Sky opened the door to a room. "Oh, Bridge?"
"Yes?" Bridge followed him in.
"I'm your roommate, so don't think I won't attempt to keep you on a schedule."
"Works for me." Bridge stared at the bleak wall on his side of the room. Sky was a neat-freak...an organized neat-freak. Everything was neat and organized. The books in alphabetical order, his bed was neatly made, all the stuff on his bed-side table was pretty straight, the walls werent colored yet, since he wasn't a Ranger just yet. "Why such a gloomy room?"
Sky turned to him. "I like it just fine. I'm gonna go shower."
"Ok!" Bridge felt a chill. It was to straight, the room was.
---
Sky walked back into his room and stopped dead. Bridge was throwing stuff out of his bag, searching for something very important, apparently. Sky shook his head and flopped down onto his bed. "Done yet?"
"I can't find it!" Bridge kept throwing things out of his duffle bag. "Where is he!"
"This?" Sky held up a white, fuzzy, tiny teddy bear with a red ribbon around his neck. "You threw it at me."
"Ryan!" Bridge took the bear and hugged it. "Thanks, Sky!" Bridge hugged Sky, who was shocked. "Yay!" Bridge jumped a little and ran back to his bed, and jumped onto it, folding some cloths and stuffing them back into the bag. "Sky, do you like any sports? When do we eat lunch around here? When do we start training? Where's the bathrooms? Where's the locker rooms? Where can I find other cadets my age? Where do you come from? Who was your father? Are you-mph!"
Sky had put his hand over Bridge's mouth, a look of pure shock on his face. "Do you run out of batteries?"
"Waf?" Bridge asked.
"Do you ever stop talking? Like, oh, say, shutting up?" Sky let go.
"Uh, I dunno. Everyone else usually stares at me with a blank stare." Bridge stared at Sky. "I dunno. Talking usually blocks out these things I hear people think. You know what, you haven't thought a thing since we got here. Are you just mindlessly walking around without thinking about anything and not really hearing anything said or just ignoring the excistence of other people who just seem to make a bigger hastle for you when you ask a simple question?"
Sky looked dumb-found. "What?" Sky blinked. "I'm just not a very good thinker."
Bridge started. "You understood me?"
"Uh, yeah," Sky said. He shook his head a little. "I have a cousin who talks just like you." Sky flopped down on the bed. "Five minutes to bed."
"Really?" Bridge looked at Sky's clock. "Can I ste up my clock, too?"
"Knock yourself out, Bridge."
Five minutes passed and Sky was reaching for the light switch when Bridge stopped him. "Sky?"
"Yes, Bridge?"
"Can you be my best friend?" Bridge asked, his eyes wandering up Sky's face to look into his eyes.
Sky wasn't so sure about that, but he nodded. "I promise. I'll be your best friend until I die, and I keep a promise."
Bridge smiled and let Sky's arm go. The room darkened with a click and Bridge asked one more thing.
"Hey, Sky?"
"Bridge?"
"Why do you look like Wesley Collins?"
BANG!
"Sky?"
"Go to bed, Bridge."
"G'night, Sky."
"Whatever." Sky rolled onto his side.
accident prone