Chapter Text
Leaves crunch methodically underfoot as the sun completely reveals itself from the dawn’s horizon. A path, lined with trees of red, brown and yellow, escalates a modest hill leading up to large brass gates visible from the hill’s foot. A boy stares up the path, scowl resting on his face, though not feeling particularly upset, he prepares to make his ascent.
Brushing a strand of ginger hair back so it resembles the hasty combing he performed not 30 minutes prior, he takes a deep breath and continues his trek up the path, resuming the crunch of leaves. No longer cloaked in morning dark, he can now behold his ‘peers’
Peers only by circumstance not capability.
Making his way up the path along he scans his surroundings and see’s a diverse variety of repulsive sights. His thoughts are merciless in their assertions.
Love-struck invalids displaying their lack of tact, desecrating the sanctity of academy property with needless frivolities. None aware that their co-dependence is entirely determined by mere embedded biology which seeks to continue the survival of the species.
The scowl behind his glasses now bore a reason instead of its natural disposition.
In his vision, a pink haired …delinquent(?) it would seem… leaned on a tree, contently rubbing shoulders with some walking corpse masquerading as a black haired violinist.
Truly what is the purpose of such meaningless physical proclamations, when all you are performing is the physiological representation of determinism… well I’m not quite well versed in philosophy, but that does not matter for my point…
…to whom am I… making a point?
Distracted, the Ginger ( virgin) sighed as he took in another sight. (hoes mad)
Walking along was a curly haired boy wearing a blue-white trucker cap, holding hands with the most blatant example of a one-dimensional bleach blonde valley girl stereotype, both seemed absorbed in what appeared to be a verbal sparring match.
Allowing any ignoramus into this institution as long as they held the financial sponsorship of their predecessors. Those such as myself, who obtained prestigious scholarship through talent and discipline, ought to form a cast upon the top of this social ecosystem, but I doubt such a bumbling body of simpletons, who hold their precious nepotism so dear, would react fondly to such a hostile takeover.
Again an infuriating display came into view of the boy genius as he attempted to avoid the glaring at the last one.
An, admittedly well put together, brunette dutifully tread forward while, a much more rambunctious girl-
Another with pink hair no less.
-walked backwards conversing with the most disciplined individual he had seen as of yet.
I’d have assumed that hair dye would be banned from this establishment, but it seems standards are lacking. And how are those ridiculous… horns(?)... allowed to be worn on campus!? Honestly she ought to stop walking in such a way if she wishes to preserve the precious few brain cells that-
The ginger's thoughts cut short as the horned(?) girl quickly made eye contact with him, staring like she were looking through the recesses of his mind. A blank stare came about in her eyes as she slowly raised a middle finger directed at the befuddled genius. The brunette promptly scolded her after looking back and they resumed their previous conversation.
I am going to reserve my thoughts on that one, as a primal terror has overcome me in her presence.
Pushing aside his existential terror, he walked forward averting his eyes from a make-out session between some red clothed scar faced boy and a rotund pale brunette boy who wore a necklace of the letters 'BB' .
The disgruntled ginger decides making his way to the front gate shall be his only priority at the moment.
It is probably best to think optimistically from this point forward, it was my choice to attend Townsville Private Academy after all.
Scratching his chin the boy recalls his reasons for applying in the first place.
Though this frustration is potent, it is at least partially self inflicted due to my environmental analysis, having even a modicum of control over my discomfort is already a significant upgrade to the metaphoric cataclysm that is Dee Dee.
The thought of his sister brings a bubbling unpleasantness to his stomach.
No more “what’s this do Dexter”, “How does this work Dexter”, “You really are naive Dexter”-
He quickened his pace as his mind was bombarded.
I will not have to deal with anymore interruptions to my experiments, no erroneous factors that would throw off my conclusions, no malfunctions of mysterious origin-
Another set of memories…
There will not be anymore ‘wellness checks’ or Sporadic outdoor adventures- saying I need to to get out of the lab sometime, ridiculous.
The glare falters from Dexter’s face for a moment, replaced by an expression of melancholy.
I had thought she’d stop the intrusions once off to higher education, but of course she chose a school closeby to Genius Grove. Obviously the only way to get away from it all was to take matters into my own hands. Even she can not bother me when separated by kilometers of distance.
Quickly attempting to find other reasons to justify his new academic endeavor, the ginger’s thoughts begun resurrecting the image of his former-
No
He shook his head viciously.
I didn’t come here because of that. Where I left things is where I intended.
(I’m just a coward who ran away. I left everything to be unresolved)
I gave the space that was needed.
(it was Space from my own mistakes)
No, I must think of the positives.
Different kinds of trees flank his side, Oaks, Birches, Cherry Blossoms, Maples, Pines. The diversity of leaves scatter along the path. He inhales the fresh air, enjoying how clean it is compared to his stuffy Laboratory.
It’s a shame that I must abandon my laboratory, (It’s not as if I’ve done anything important there since Dee Dee moved out) but I need new inspiration to take me out of this… rut I’ve found myself in. After all, discovery is the greatest motivation. (A cat and mouse game cannot function with only a mouse) .
Taking out a class schedule from his bag, he decides to quickly look over the room numbers one more time, only to stare at his 5th period class. A grin adorns his face as he reads the description and, more importantly to him, the one teaching the class.
Of all the good tidings this new setting can bestow upon me, none are greater than the opportunity to study under The Professor Utonium, a revolutionary mind in the fields of biomechanics, genetic engineering, and biological engineering.
If it was not for his contributions, (and Dee Dee’s insistence on studying) I would have never have applied myself in attempting to master the life science discipline as much as I have applied myself in non-biological sciences. Though, even I am still a novice in comparison to Professor Utonium.
A shadow looms above the ginger, and he breaks out of his thoughts. Looking up he sees pristine brass gates, the center holds the symbol of the school's mascot, a crocodile, specifically Fors Kin Croc, named after the founder of Townsville Private Academy.
These thoughts are a distraction from what is most important today
(This entire adventure to Townsville is a distraction from my thoughts.)
Taking a deep breath and affixing his face back to its natural glower, Dexter walks past the gates and into the school, making his way to the first floor of the school’s social studies building.
He bitterly mutters to himself on the way. “Embarrassing that someone with my talent is forced to retake coursework.”
Attempting to find his first class among the labyrinth of beige walls and pale doors, he tunes out the conversations of the sparse other students at this hour who obstruct his path. His train of thought continues along its spiteful trajectory.
For what reason are four years required in order to understand the intricacies of speech I am clearly proficient in. An educational system that deems that necessary is what’s truly ‘Below average’, not myself.
The hallways of the academy are still mostly empty at this point of the morning, allowing 3 young ladies to walk adjacent to one another. A soft echo ricochets off the walls as one of the girls rants at the other two.
“Ugh, Why are English classes even separated by year? What is there to learn that makes it take four years!? I speak it good enough already, so why do I need a ‘formal education’ in the thing?!” A green dressed girl complains while slouching through the beige hallway, scowling down at her class schedule.
“For starters, it’s ‘speak it well enough’ Buttercup.” Corrected a voice coming from the green girls right.
“And you wouldn’t have to retake first year English if you just decided to take the Summer classes, which you have to take anyway now , to get your credits.” Covered in a light coral pallet shoulder to knees and walking with her back uncrooked, the lime eyed girl’s critic didn’t falter in giving her opinion.
A retort quickly escaped Buttercup’s mouth, “Not everyone is worried about credit’s Ms ‘I’m gonna take AP Trig in my second year.’”
The pink girl sees her sister roll her emerald eyes, “At least I’m gonna be able to have some free time instead of studying for test material that's a year more advanced.”
Before a retort can come from the straight laced sister, “Don’t worry sis, I’ll help you study for English since I’m ahead for those credits.” smiling brightly at her two siblings, the cyan sister offers a compromise to end the dispute.
“No thanks…” A visible shiver courses through Buttercup.
“Last time you helped us with a literature review essay, it was like dealing with a ruthless blonde dictator.”
A quick agreement came from the ginger girl walking between her two sisters. “Yeah, sorry Bubble’s, but you get a little…” She looks for the best word to complete her statement with.
Tyrannical, Uncompromising, A Natural Disaster, Scary, Hard to Deal with, Intense- ‘Intense’ yeah that one works!
“A little intense, when talking about literary analysis.”
The cyan-dressed sister gained a hardened look for a moment, “Well, you two were unable to see the clear symbolism of The Cask of Amontillado , it’s reasonable I got a little upset, but I promise this time I’ll be more gentle. After all it isn’t all our assignment this time.” she finishes her statement with a good natured giggle.
“Fine, I’ll ask for your help, but you better not make me read some dead guy’s diary just to ‘prove his state of mind’ when I write about how boring their short story is.” Buttercup relinquished with a sigh.
“But, that’s the most fun part! If you don’t understand the meta-textual-” The ginger haired girl tuned out her sisters’ argument.
I’m sure those two will work out an agreement, Bubbles usually won’t make the same mistake twice.
Looking back to see they were still arguing.
I’ll get involved if they take it too far… I’d rather focus on the upcoming class, Buttercup was being sarcastic but it’s not unlikely that this semester is gonna have me swamped.
“Fine, unless you ask me yourself sis, there will be no bibliographies in your homework.”
“And I’ll take your input into consideration if you really think it could get me an easy A.”
Seems the argument did resolve itself.
“Oh yeah Blossom, quick question” snapping out of her thoughts the pink girl gives her attention to Buttercup. “Hmmm, whatcha need?”
“Just wanted to ask if Powerpuff situations are the same as last year” the black haired sister asks curiously.
Glad she remembered, I almost forgot to mention it.
“Not too different, just this time we’re gonna need to provide proof before excusing ourselves instead of after, also since we aren’t in all the same classes anymore we need to find someone in each of our classes to update us on what we missed.”
Buttercup summarizes the instructions to herself, “Thanks, boss, so before not after, and find a good note-taker.”
“That doesn’t sound too bad, last year a lot of people were willing to share their notes with us.” The blonde recalls last school years experience.
A groan escapes the mint sister, “Greeaaat, another year of having to figure out excuses for dudes on why I didn’t respond to the little personal note with a phone number attached, ‘oh I just didn’t see it’ or ‘Sorry my laser vision burned it out’ only works for like the 5th time before they get it.”
Blossom has to agree with her sister on this one, “And of course it isn’t like they stop after that, instead they think that asking directly will yield a better result, which of course always puts you in the awkward situation of figuring out a way to reject them with the least backlash.” she adds onto Buttercup’s frustrated rant.
“I know the Professor explicitly forbids us from showing off our powers to intimidate people, but can the three of us please make a silent exception to that rule when a guy gets too stalkerish?” The blunt question gets met with a stare, and the black-haired Powerpuff expands her point.
“Seriously, telling the school only does so much, especially with a bunch of rich nepo-babies waltzing around. So just getting them to back off with a little, you know…” Buttercup point’s to her eyes as her irises glow a dim green.
The coral sister sighs, even if she did take an extra second to think about it, “Buttercup… you know we can’t just melt some guy for being creepy.”
“I’m not saying we melt anyone!” A snappy reply came back.
“I’m just saying that if we left a little scorch mark on the locker behind them, most of these dudes think twice.” A roll of lime eyes came promptly after.
A giggle emerged from the blue Powerpuff, “Why don’t you each just get a guy to say they're your boyfriend, then just tell anyone who asks that you're taken?”
“That only works for you because one, No one in this school wants to mess with the Rowdyruffs, which was kinda my point with the scorch mark idea-”
Blossom leveled a glare at her sister, who still spoke undeterred.
“-second, you and Boomer actually are in a long-distance relationship.” rejecting her sister’s proposal Buttercup holds her temples.
“No we’re not… We just say we are to stop people from flirting with either of us.”
The ginger haired sister spoke up suddenly, “But, you two go on dates whenever he’s in town-”
“That’s just to keep up the ruse.” Bubbles smiles back unperturbed.
Blurting out hastily, “Neither of you date anyone else-”
“Well if we were going out with anyone else then we wouldn’t be able to say that we’re dating each other to throw people off.” Another self-contradicting set of logic sprung forth.
“Than… aren’t you two just… dating for real?” confusion emanates from Blossom’s tone.
“No, neither of us have confessed to the other.”
“I’ve seen you two making out like a couple months ago!” Before she could go further with her exasperation, Buttercup places a hand on her shoulder.
“Boss, just leave it, it’s no use, we’ve had the same argument 100 times, I’ve just given up at this point.” The black haired girl slowly shakes her head in remembrance.
“I don’t get why you don’t get it. If we didn’t do all the things people do in a relationship then why would anyone believe we’re in a real relationship?”
“Do you even enjoy doing that? It sounds like it would be more-”
“Of course, it’s great, why wouldn’t I? Boomer's real sweet when he wants to be.”
“Then why don’t you just start a real relationship!?” A twitching eye adorned the Powerpuff leader’s face.
“I… hmmmm, I don’t… OH now I remember, it was his idea.”
Waiting for her sister to elaborate Blossom fell silent, “It’s because we both have commitment issues.”
“... How long have you two been doing this?”
“3 years”
“...”
“Like I said boss, don’t question her, it’s not worth the headache.”
Finally arriving at Buttercup's class on the first floor, the three sisters depart for their respective subjects, Bubbles to the second floor, and Blossom to the third. Straightening out the red bow on her head she thinks about the conversation before it derailed into her sister’s confusing love life. She needs to find someone who will take meticulous notes for this class if she wants to have any hope of getting top marks while doing Powerpuff work.
She lets out a long sigh.
It’s not like I’ll be able to find someone else in my year in this class and the others.
In a classroom half an hour earlier than the required time, Dexter sits with attention at the front sorting through his bag and organizing his pencils.
Begrudged by the possibility of start-of-year icebreakers, he jots down a dozen responses to potential inquiries that he believes will not result in total alienation among his classmates, while also dissuading them from further pursuing his company.
As he’s finished writing down the name of what bird he most identifies with, Crow, Raven, or Magpie obviously, the door to the classroom swings open. A green clad girl saunters inside, taking a seat in the front seat which is nearest to the door. Her face holds a scowl that rivals his own and before he can study it a minute further, her head snaps toward him.
“Whatcha glaring at me for, lemon face.” The glare in her own eyes not faltering.
Lemon face?
Before he could question the nickname, or even respond in any capacity really, she started again.
“Yaknow just because you’ve got prescriptions on doesn’t mean I can’t see the murderous intent behind them.”
Alright I understood prescriptions is because of my glasses but I still don’t understand...
“Lemon face…” he repeated, his expression becoming quizzical.
“What?” The black haired girl raised an eyebrow.
“What do you mean by lemon face?”
“Your face’s been scrunched up in a death stare burning into the back of my head for like a minute now." She explains her derision a little confused why he wasn’t offended.
“But, my face does not resemble a lemon.” Dexter points out.
“When you eat lemons your face scrunches up right?” She offers a rhetorical question.
He concurred, “Correct. At least usually.”
“So, your face looked kinda scrunched up like that.” The jade eyed girl concludes.
“Would it not make more sense to say Lemon-eating face?” Before she could retort, the ginger spoke again.
“Lemon face implies that my face resembles the appearance a lemon rather then the effect of what eating a lemon-”
“You’re overthinking the insult, now why were you staring at me like that?” She interrupted his argument.
I was winning that debate… he thinks pridefully.
Dexter scratches his head not recalling the question, “Staring at you like what?”
She raises her voice and maintains a frustrated tone, “Like you had just eaten a sour lemon! Geez keep-” The ginger frantically shoves his finger in front of his mouth, motioning to stay silent. The girl's eyes track over to the teacher snoozing on his own desk.
Quieting down she responds again, “You were looking at me as if you hold a grudge, do I know you or do you also just have a case of resting bitch face?”
“I do not, and I was simply putting my attention toward the stimuli which had entered the room.”
He continues on with his explanation, “As for my disposition, I am simply not in good spirits being relegated to this course.” The boy grinds his teeth as he thinks about his current predicament.
A sigh escapes the mint girl, “Yeah, me neither, I’m actually a second year but I scored too low in my first, and now I’m stuck here again.”
Her face hits the desk, not raising up until she hears his voice from a few seats away, “I am also in my second year and am suffering the same misfortune.” A frustrated look strikes his face once again.
At this revelation the girl rested her chin upon her knuckle, “That’s surprising, you talk like you swallowed a thesaurus, is it cuz it’s not your first language?”
Dexter’s face grew perplexed again, “I’m a native english speaker, what are you talking about?”
“Oh, I just thought from the accent… nevermind.”
She mutters under her breath, “well now I look like an asshole…”
“It is because I absorbed many foreign movies when I was child, mostly soviet films my family had prerecorded.” The boy genius exposits.
“So you’re family’s Russian, or like from-”
“No they are from New Jersey, about 6 generations back I believe.” He interrupted her inquiry.
Blinking a couple of times, the girl shakes her head slightly and starts a new topic of conversation. “Alright, looks like we’re in the same boat here, so sorry for jumping you for the resting bitch face, even if you probs shouldn't've aimed that thing at me.” Before Dexter could correct her assessment of his facial features she continued.
“Anyway, since we’re both stuck in the same annoying BS, we may as well help eachother out cuz we’ll probably be dealing with the same issues. Name’s Buttercup by the way, and you?”
What sort of name is ‘Buttercup’? Regardless, it is best not to anger her after our initial introduction.
“My name is Dexter, though I’m skeptical that your aid will be necessary.” The boy genius attempts to conclude their conversation.
Buttercup questions him, clearly unamused by his last comment, “Didn’t you also fail this class sweater vest?” coming out more like a statement rather than inquiry.
“That’s the fault of the pointless concepts that the grading curric-” She interrupts him again.
“You failed at reading comprehension, poetry, and symbolism, didn’t you?” The green girl drops in a flat tone.
How did she-
Exclaiming his own thoughts “In what way could you possibly know th-” Buttercup lifts a finger to her mouth, staring daggers at him. The ginger looks back to see the teacher still asleep, as the remaining words die in his throat.
“It’s kinda obvious talking to you, it just seems like that kinda stuff would fly right over your big head.” Dexter shifts his face away angrily, an even more intense glare adorns his face as he mutters to himself.
“There is nothing obvious about my situation, this whole thing is an anomaly of epic proportion.”
The girl’s voice brings his attention back to her, “Don’t feel too bad about it, I failed those concepts too. Guess we’re sorta the same in that way.” He tilts his head beckoning her to continue.
“I’ve got trouble picking up on that kinda thing also, and I don’t really disagree about the whole curriculum thing.”
She raise her voice slightly, but not enough to disrupt the slumbering professor, “I mean seriously, you give me a passage to read out, than tell me that the thing I read has things in it that require ‘further investigation’-” Performing air quotes at the last phrase she continues.
“-like if you had something to say, why didn’t you just write that down in the first place!” Dexter’s eyes glimmer for a moment as he rapidly nods in agreement.
“That is Exactly my thought process” he silently exclaims.
“For what reason would somebody need to hide their intention behind conveying their thoughts?”
“Preach, prescriptions! It drives me crazy how my sister will go on and on about the ‘deeper meaning’ between like a couple sentences. I still don’t understand how, according to my sis, piggy’s glasses ‘represent civilization’ in Lord of The Flies.” Buttercup makes sweeping hand movements as she concludes her rant.
The ginger adds his own experience, “My own sister referred to me as ‘naive’ for not understanding that same point. Dee Dee spent more than a month pestering me about the supposed ‘authority’ represented by the Conch shell. In what universe does a sea shell command respect or loyalty!?”
The two continue ranting to one another for close to 15 minutes, Dexter moving a few seats toward Buttercup so the chance of waking their teacher went down, though the educator eventually rose due to the ring of the bell. The boy genius hadn’t noticed the variety of students filtering into the room as class time drew near.
Caught up in chuckling with one another, it took their teacher clearing his throat loudly to pull their attention away, each realizing class was about to start. Both turned their heads to the front of the class where the professor began an overview of the lesson to come.
Dexter gets a tap on his shoulder, and he turns.
“Hey, Prescriptions.” The jade eyed girl whispers “I’m gonna need someone to share notes with me this year in case I get called out of class. You willing to help me out for this one?” He momentarily ponders her words, before nodding, then placing his attention back to the instructor.
“Alright, class before we get into the academic material, we’ll start out with a simple ice breaker-”
Dammit!
Walking out of her first class, Blossom exhales a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding, and begins making her way to second class for the day German Foreign Language.
I knew the AP courses were going to be tough, but did the teacher seriously have to dive head first into our lessons on the first day of class? Maybe Buttercup was right and I’m just in over my head with this class.
Before she could stew in her regret any longer, a buzz interrupts her thoughts. She pulls out her phone and sees a text from Buttercup in their sisters group chat. Opening up her lock screen she reads a message.
Buttercup: Hey guys I met this other 2nd year in english class and found out he apparently has his next class with you so watch for him K
Buttercup: He agreed to share notes with me without a fuss and will probs let you two do the same if you ask
Buttercup: Got curly hair, glasses, a big head, bit shorter, and he’s a ginger like you boss
Buttercup: OH and hes got a resting bitch face that rivals my own
Blossom: Language
Buttercup: Bite me
Bubbles: short bobblehead ginger with glasses and a mean face, GOT IT!!!
Blossom: We’ll make sure to ask. I’m glad you managed to make a friend when you were so grumpy about taking that class this morning.
Buttercup: I let him know what you look like so theres no confusion, told him Bubbles is wearing blue and has blonde pigtails while Blossom wears pink and has red hair like him
Bubbles: He must be a malleable guy if you got him to share notes with you.
Bubbles: Can’t wait to meet him!
Buttercup: Nah he’s a real dickhead honestly
Blossom: Language
Buttercup: he’s a real shithead honestly
Buttercup: but were about as stubborn as each other from what I can tell and at least agreed that we hated having to retake that class and came to a mutual agreement
Bubbles: someone as stubborn as you? Sounds interesting!
Blossom: Did you see the rest of his schedule by any chance?
Buttercup: Nah he just mentioned taking German with Ms. Spartacus and I mentioned you two as a result
Buttercup: Anyways I gotta get to PE see ya
Blossom: See you chemistry sis.
Bubbles: See you in World History sis!!! I’m so glad we all got that course together!
“Heeeeeeey, sis!” Blossom peels her eyes away from the screen to see Bubbles frantically waving at her outside the German classroom.
The ginger girl inquires about her sister’s day so far “Hey Bubbles. How was your first class?” her sister smiles widely as she tilts her head “I didn’t know chemistry could be this much fun!” The response surprises the pink powerpuff and she questions further “oh really, what did you enjoy?”
“We looked over the periodic table and some of the names for the elements are really funny, like Boron.”
I’m not sure how to respond to that honestly.
The two sisters walk into their classroom and begin searching for adjacent seats as they converse. They eventually take notice of a boy in the front row and middle column of desks. Red hair, big head, short, has glasses, and a glare that was armor piercing.
Wow that was a bang on description she gave wasn’t it.
Before the powerpuff leader could make contact with the young man, her pigtailed sister dashed over excitedly. A thought emerges at the forefront of Blossom’s mind “Wait, Bubbles we don’t know his na-” before she could put her thoughts to words Bubble’s had initiated an interaction.
“Bobblehead Boy! Heeey! I’m Buttercup’s sister Bubbles! Are you gonna share notes with us too!? You’re sharing them with Buttercup so it shouldn’t be a problem here as well! Was Buttercup right to call you just as stubborn? She’s the most stubborn person I know so it’d be a real surprise if that was true!” The pigtailed blonde excitedly races through her speech.
The boy's face swiftly transitions from a glare to complete shell-shock, as if the sudden appearance of the cyan powerpuff activated a primal terror in him.
“Errr, I, uhhh-” He stutters out before Blossom can reign in her excitable sister.
“Bubbles!”
She grabs her sister's attention, “Don’t overwhelm him immediately, we just met.” She turns to the boy himself after scolding her sister.
Wearing a warm smile on her face she extends her hand forward, “Hi, I‘m Blossom, and my sister here, if you missed it in that whirlwind of words, is Bubbles, we’re the ones Buttercup told you about. Also, I’m sorry but Buttercup forgot to mention your name, so may I ask what it is?” The boy looks down at her hand and back up at her eyes again, about 2 inches of height separating the two, he then speaks in a relaxed tone.
“My name is Dexter.” The scowl returns to his face as he continues, “I would much prefer to not be assaulted by boundless enthusiasm. Expiring from cardiac arrest so early in my career does not sound very pleasant.” He concludes his statement with a paranoid squint, and sits at his desk ignoring the hand she’d extended.
Well that didn’t go as well I hoped. Although Buttercup was right about him being a dickhea-
Attempting to stay cordial she presses further, “So, Dexter, I heard from Buttercup that you agreed to share notes when she misses class. Since we’re also in the same class, I’d like to ask if you’d be willing to share notes with us as well when we have to miss class.”
“No.” A sharp reply came without hesitation.
“Huh, come again?” Blossom blinks rapidly.
“I said No. I will not share my notes with you.” He states plainly leaving the pink girl in bewilderment.
Bubbles watches the ordeal, her mouth sewn shut as she observes the glimmer in her sister's eye. Equipping a warm smile once again, though venom lurks beneath it, Blossom pushes the point.
“Can I ask you why not?” All but physically biting her tongue, the ginger girl spits out.
With the same disinterested glare on his face Dexter starts, “Well you may ask-"
This four eyes will end up getting melted so help me-
“-but my answer will remain the same regardless.”
Taking a quick breath Blossom tries again.
“Even if that’s the case considering you agreed to my sister’s request, may I at least be given an explanation for your reasoning?” She sees his mouth twitch up ever so slightly.
A puddle, he’ll be a little pasty puddle with red hair and pair of glasses
Resting his hand on his cheek Dexter starts “The material both Buttercup and me-”
“Buttercup and I- ” Blossom viciously interrupts, slightly louder than she meant.
Gotcha you smug prick! The smirk on her lips inflates at his expression.
With an eye twitch, the boy repeats, “The material both Buttercup and I...” he takes a moment to roll his eyes.
“Must review are relatively similar, and therefore the format of my notes will not need to be altered very much in order to address the imperfections we both still have.” He points between the two sisters before continuing.
“Whereas I have yet to take this course and do not yet know where I may need improvement, and will come to understand that as I absorb the lesson plan. You two may have vastly different areas of error and skill, and accounting for that in my notes would take away necessary concentration from my own academic pursuit.” finishing his argument he put down his finger.
Blossom began digesting his reasoning and came to the conclusion that it wasn’t much flawed, even if it came off as selfish.
The teacher begins writing phrases on the white board although class hasn’t started.
You win this round Dexter
She spitefully thought before rummaging through her bag in search of pencils. She's brought out of her thoughts by his voice speaking in the most curious tone she had heard from him thus far.
“I assumed your sister may just have been involved in delinquent activity, so asked no further questions, but why would you two even need to miss class in the first place?” As he talks his eyes don’t move from the pencil he’s sharpening.
She bore confusion on her face and prepares to inquire further, “wait did she not tell yo-” she’s interrupted by the school-bell. The teacher begins introducing themselves and the lesson plan for the day, leaving the boy distracted.
She goes back to searching her bag for pencils before hearing a minor thud on her desks and sees a freshly sharpened pencil, courtesy of the lens wearing redhead to her left, his attention glued to his notebook already writing furiously, as his arm stretches back.
You win this round…
Panting deeply with his hands on his knees bent over, Dexter dry heaves for nearly a minute, drying his best to catch his breath.
Physical Education is a cruel and unusual method of torture. He’s brought out of his thoughts by a pigtailed shadow looming over him.
Speaking of cruel and unusual.
“Hey Bobblehead Boy!”
What is it with this family and nicknames?
Before he could ask the blonde girl to stop referring to him by that moniker, he feels a cold plastic on his forehead. Looking up he sees Bubbles holding a foggy water bottle out for him with a smile bright enough to require eye protection.
Be not afraid.
He takes hold of the bottle, beginning to drain it of all its contents at a breakneck pace. After panting for a little longer, he finally hears her speak again.
“You know Bobblehead boy that breathlessness is a sign of growth, it means you're giving it your absolute best!” Dexter’s face transitions away from his current exhaustion into his neutral glare as he hears the words of the 5th horsewomen.
Asking between deep breaths “How are you not even winded?”
Placing her hands behind her back, his harbinger of doom sweetly replies “Oh, I don’t even need to take this class!” His head shoots up at her response.
“Neither of my sisters need to either, I just find it fun and Buttercup likes to have a free period, Blossom’s the only one who still doesn’t because she wants to get actual credits.”
I can at least respect the educational pursuit of the redheaded one. Even if it does pale in comparison to my own academic capabilities.
Letting out his frustration he flails his hands, “You are not even close to exhaustion, I do not believe I see a single drop of condensation on your brow, it’s abnormal you may as well be superhuman!”
“Well I am, so that makes sense.” The great old one giggles at his remark.
I guess boastfulness runs in the blood of pigtailed anomalies. Dee Dee would have said the same thing and cackled even louder… (It would be comforting if I allowed it to be.)
After changing from his gym clothes to his school outfit, Dexter walks out of the locker room, and pinches his eyes together at the sight before him. Bubbles is leaning against the wall while one of his classmates is talking to her. Pushing his glasses up so he can see more clearly, he walks closer and manages to hear what they’re saying.
“Yeah, sorry but I’m already going out with Boomer, you know from the Rowdyruff boys?”
Rowdyruff? Is that some illegal organization of ruffians?
Dexter notices the boy’s face quickly pales in complexion, beginning to profusely apologize.
“Seriously, I d-didn’t know, p-p-please don’t mention it to him.” All but begging for her compliance before scurrying away. The blonde cataclysm sets her sky blue eyes on Dexter, and rapidly approaches.
Her voice loudly reverberates next to the tile backdrop behind them. “Hey, Bobblehead Boy, you’ve got World History next so I waited out here for you so we could go together! I can’t believe we have 3 classes in a row together!”
Pigtailed anomalies share the capability to pierce thoughts as well. I suspected as much with Dee Dee but this proves my hypothesis.
If you are interpreting this, I mean you no harm, please allow me to live in peace.
He begins walking silently to their next class and she follows him looking slightly befuddled by his stonewalling. “Bobblehead Boy? You still there? OH!!! You’re probably wondering how I knew you have History. I saw you studying your schedule before we left German.”
You peered into my psyche to pull out that information.
She giggles before continuing “Or should I say, ‘Ich habe Ihr Papier ausspioniert’ instead?”
Shrugging off the fact he was entirely unaware of what she just said-
Likely some form of tongues.
-Dexter decides to pull the tactic of distraction from his arsenal.
“Are the ‘Rowdy Ruff Boys’ an organized crime syndicate?” He inquires as they make their way to the humanities building again.
Bubbles appears puzzled for a moment before answering, “I mean they’re not always straight and narrow, but they generally try to do the right thing now, even if they’re kinda… Rough about it… Rowdy ruff OH that makes more sense now!”
Getting herself back on track she poses a question herself, “Do they really give off the mafia aesthetic to you Bobblehead Boy?”
At this point just accepting the nickname the ginger replies, “I’ve not got any idea as to who they are, which is why I was asking you, since you are at least familiar with one of them.” At this revelation the Blonde stops in her tracks.
“Wait! You don’t know who the Rowdyruffs are?” The boy genius is genuinely surprised by her reaction.
“Is there a reason I should… allow me guess their relevance. hmmm….” He begins tapping his chin, then snaps and throws out his guess.
“They are a band of musicians!”
“They tried that for a while but it fell flat cuz Butch kept breaking the drum petal.”
Making it to the classroom and they move inside to get access to seats. “Come one, Blossom texted me that she saved us seats at the front.”
Sure enough there was an empty seat at the front of the class in the middle of the row, another available seat behind that one as well. Adjacent to the front-most seat on the right sat Blossom reading a book and behind her Buttercup who raised a hand lazily to address him.
Waving to the mint clad girl Dexter spoke up, “Greetings Buttercup, I was unaware we shared this course as well, along with your… sisters.” He gave a brief side eye at the fellow ginger adjacent to him as he took a seat.
“Yeah, forgot to share my schedule but probably should’ve, considering we’re in the same year. Speaking of which, wanna trade notes for this class too?” Resting her chin on her knuckle she closes her eyes.
Her tone becomes flat as she further explains her request. “I’ve gotta hard time memorizing stuff and I bet you’re probably better at it, though the ‘interpretation’ part of this class might trip you up a bit I think.” The lime eyed girl finalized her statement with a smug grin.
Replying immediately, the boy genius snarked at her last comment, “I will make that deal, though if I am to be ‘tripped up’ as you put it, by anything, I can assure you I’ll still surpass your own scores on our examinations.” He smirked at their bout of verbal combat.
The teacher instructed the class to form a group of four to five with their neighbors, and introduce themselves to each other using icebreakers. Since the boy genius was acquainted with the 3 girls, he decides to-
“Whatever happened to ‘taking away necessary conversation from your academic pursuits’ Dexter?” Blossom’s eyes didn’t leave the page she was reading, as her words halted the boy's thoughts.
Before he could respond, his fellow ginger interrogates him further. “I thought you couldn’t share notes for that reason, yet you agreed to Buttercup immediately.”
She casts a disinterested glance his way. “Would that perhaps have been fib.”
Not backing down from her gaze, he challenges her point, “You did not ask regarding this class, for which the answer is still no-”
Twisting his hand in a cyclical motion, he continues his elaboration, “-and the reason for accepting sisters request was because it involved memorization, an issue which can be addressed in any sufficient set of notes, no extra effort will be required.”
“You don’t even know what area Bubbles and I may struggle with, yet you still denied the request.” Finally putting down her book, she crosses her hands together and lays her chin upon it.
“What reason could you have for that? History is a course you’ve surely taken before, even if the time period and setting were different, so unlike German, you should be fully aware of your own capabilities.” Her eyes grew wide yet her pupils stayed focused as she continued.
“Unless, of course, you lack confidence in your own ability, that is?”
Dexter sneered at her implication, opening his mouth. “And what makes you think I’m simply unconfident with your ability, requiring me to add extra unnecessary detail into my own notes.” Her pink eyes narrow, and a predatory smile grows on her face.
The pigtailed girl, attempts to jump in, “Um Bobblehead boy, I don’t-”
She’s interrupted by her ribbon wearing sister, “Well, for your information, I was going to take AP World History along with my other AP courses this school year, the only reason I didn’t was because The Professor said I had too much on my plate with my other courses and requested I didn’t add any more.”
This challenge may have been a mistake
Ignoring his own rational, he attacks the point, “All that tells me is that the professor who would have taught that class, saw you unfit to take their course, it proves nothin-”
“Uhhhh, Dex she doesn’t mean the professor of AP History.” The green sister interrupts his argument.
After looking at Buttercup with confusion, she elaborates the point, “We’ve called our Dad ‘The Professor’ for as long as we can remember.”
Blossom jumps in too, “Oh shoot, yeah I forgot that the label is kinda confusing when we’re talking in school, but yeah, our father recommended I don’t put too much on my plate not the history teacher.”
Sparking Dexter’s attention, he abandons the argument, “Your father is a professor?” Before Blossom or Buttercup answer, Bubbles cuts in.
“Oh Yeah! I was going to tell you two, Bobblehead Boy is gonna be taking The Professor’s class after this one. He’s also got Film Study for sixth period like you Blossom!” The second portion of Bubbles’ statement was almost entirely discarded as the gears turning in the other three began spinning rapidly, then coming to a halt.
“Your father is Professor Utoniuom!” Dexter sputters out, eyes darting between all three of them.
Oh dear I have been antagonizing the progeny of one of my scientific idols, I need to rectify this immediately, or else-
He’s brought out of his panic by Blossom lurching forward, hands on his desk “How are you taking his class!?” Disorientation plastered on her expression, “It’s reserved only for seniors and it’s super exclusive to students with the best scores in all the science classes!” Her face is both bewildered and impressed.
“Errr oh, um well-” The ginger boy attempts to find the appropriate words, “you see, I-” he continues to stutter as pink eyes stay locked on to his own. He begins to notice a sweet fruity scent. “I-I-apples and cinnamon?” He drags the final word, and the pink eyes grow confused.
Saving him from the sudden proximity, Buttercup loudly whispers, “Boss, you're cornering him so much he’s catching a whiff of your hair, dial it back a bit.” The redheaded sister takes notice of the distance between the two of them. Scanning the room she sees almost a dozen heads staring and promptly moves backwards from the panicked boy, both their cheeks dusted pink.
“S-sorry, about that…” Blossom turns her head away from him as his heartbeat steadies to a less rapid pace. “Y-You are forgiven. Do not worry.”
That was much too close for comfort in my opinion. I’ve not been within that proximity of another person since…
His blush cools down, and melancholy begins to replace anxiousness.
The boy’s attention refocuses on the black haired sister, “Anyways, as the Boss was saying. How’re you taking Professor U’s course?” Remembering the actual inquiry which led to this conundrum, the bespectacled young man relays his experience.
“Ahh, that is because I demonstrated an aptitude for all the requirements of the science and mathematics courses. I was able to prove to the academy that I already had achieved every learning objective of each course at the highest level through a near perfect examination score of all relevant subjects.” He spoke matter factly and continued, bringing out the schedule of classes from his bag.
Pointing to the description on the class schedule, “Professor Utonium's course delves into material I am much less familiar with, that being biomechanics of course. Though I will say I have more skill in the ‘mechanics’ portion, the integration of biological components is something I have yet to master in any of my experiments.”
Grinning mischievously, the ginger boy partakes in some humor, “I would like to better my grasp on the concepts lest I release a deadly pathogen onto the city in my inexperience.” The grim statement seems to raise concern among the 3 young ladies for a moment, and his smile falters.
“That was a joke.” He states a few seconds later with a small dejected tone...
The other ginger speaks first, noticeably recovered from previous embarrassment, “When did you manage to complete those exams?” She wearily asks.
“My final year of middle school, it would be 2 years ago from now, when I was at the age of 13 if I remember correctly, which I know for a fact I am.” Her eyes were wide as saucers and the black haired sister was little different.
Chiming in with a positive tone, “Wow Bobblehead Boy, it’s so impressive you put so much time into learning that material that you now have to take first year english! Your brain must have been so burnt out after that year that you took a year long break in high school, but I bet your grades are good enough to the point it doesn’t even matter.”
Why do you feel the need to hurt me oh cruel mistress.
Remaining silent for several seconds, and nervously shuffling in his seat, the boy genius begins slowly dispelling this new mythology which surrounds him.
“Well… in actuality… I may” Twiddling his thumbs he decides to spit out his shameful reality, dragging every word out, “My grades are actually… average, at best…”
It would be more truthful to say they are just below average.
Speaking at the same time and pink and green sisters express their bafflement, “How is that even possible!?” both exclaim.
“It is not so much that I am a bad student, as is obvious from my attunement for the sciences along with some of my test scores within the non-scientific fields.”
He lowers his head to avoid eye contact as he speaks, taking his time before admitting his next shame, “My dilemma is more so the fact that subjects which do not have formulaic answers… require learning objectives that are… essentially flawed in ways that inhibit my ability to score higher.” His admission is equivalent to pulling teeth, both in feeling and arduous time.
As the ginger sister opens her mouth, he interrupts her unknowingly, “There is also the issue of me, at times which are unfortunate, or perhaps when I am caught up in more important projects, not completing assigned homework… or essays.” He awaits for the girls’ response, as a long silence leaves him deafened by his beating heart.
“So you’re brilliant but lazy.” A deadpan tone emerges from his fellow redhead, rhetorically piercing him.
“And you can’t understand subtext.” An equally sharp voice makes its way out of the ebony haired sister.
“And you have a debilitating phobia of failure!” The cheerful tone of the blonde demon attracts the attention of the other three.
The eyes staring at her with bemusement, confusion, and guilty frustration prompt the blonde to request answers from them, “What’s wrong? We were pointing out Bobblehead boy’s flaws. What I said was correct, right?”
Of course you are correct, you mindscaping yokai.
Listing out on her fingers, “He also has a sense of self aggrandizement, denial of his perceived flaws, and a complex about how other people view his accomplishments!” The pigtailed girl happily recites.
“Putting that in a box… to be addressed later, I have a proposition for you Dexter.” The ribbon wearing girl smiles as she rests her chin on the top of her hands.
“Since you have trouble with these classes, which I should mention I’m pretty good at, how about in return for sharing notes with Bubbles and me-”
He looked as if he was going to make a comment but bit his tongue.
“-whenever we can’t be in class. In return we help you with the class work you need help understanding.” She concludes her proposition by extending her hand as an act of good faith.
The way his face morphs into malice surprises the girl, and before she can comment on it, he spits out his answer, “No!” He declares resolutely.
Crossing his arms petulantly, letting out an almost tooth grinding drawl, “I am not in need of ‘help’ from you, whomever you may be.”
Pointing at her viciously he continues his slow rant, “Even if you are the daughter of the great Professor Utoniuom, I refuse to accept your pity, and I am not as troubled as you may seem to believe!” His eyes squint as he furthers the accusation.
“Do you take me for a fool? How could I accept the word that you could even help me, when you have expressly declared your intention to evacuate yourself from class at any time you so choose.”
Leveling his glare at the auburn haired sister he elaborates further, “In fact, our previous agreement has been expressly revoked now that I’ve had the time to realize the hucksters you three truly are.”
Oh this is bad, really bad.
Her lime eyed sister furiously addresses him, “What did you call me!?”
He refuses to retreat from the repudiation, “A huckster, a charlatan, a snake-oil salesman, whatever verbiage you’d like to use-” Before the redheaded girl can de-escalate, she hears Bubbles’ voice.
“Umm, actually those are adjecti-”
“I do not care for your specifications Dee Dee!”
Dee Dee?
The pigtailed girl is unable to complete her critique, as he snaps, causing her to regress slightly.
I’m not sure how, but it seems I stepped on a landmine of insecurity.
The sharp eyed boy puts his attention back onto her, “If you think I will fall for your malevolent trick, which requires me to believe that peers who flippantly attend this course will somehow provide an invaluable academic resource, you have vastly underestimated my capabilities.” Venom drips from his tone, as he points a paralyzing gaze at her.
The turbulent tirade somehow goes unnoticed by both the teacher and surrounding classmates, leaving the four to stare at each other in silence. Blossom stares at the bespectacled young man bewildered, while Bubbles awkwardly avoids eye contact, and Buttercup’s face appears nearly volcanic in temperament.
Before the green eyed sister erupts, Blossom chooses to raise a palm to her sister, deciding to question the boy’s decision. “Dexter… When you say that we’re just skipping class, and accounting for the fact you didn’t know who our father was…”
Constructing her deduction further, “Do you not know the reason why we’re asking this?” She carefully prods.
Before Dexter can respond, a cheerful tone springs from Bubbles, “Oh that's right!”
The other two girls perk up at their sister’s voice, “Bobblehead Boy didn’t know who the Rowdyruff boys were! You’re not from Townsville are you?”
Still seeming perturbed, he answers slowly, “No, I am not, I come from Genius Grove and am in the dorms reserved for scholarship students.”
Not from Townsville… which means…
“That… makes sense now.” The pink clad girl reasons to herself, and lets out a sigh.
“Dexter, we’re not just skipping for the sake of it.” The boy’s eyes don’t falter from their glare, but he nods to signal her to continue.
“The reason we’re asking is because… we’re the Powerpuff Girls!” She puts on a smile and uses her hands to spotlight herself.
He must know who we are now, boy would I be embarrassed if I was-
Her smile falters when she realizes his glare doesn’t lose any of its intensity, “and you don’t know what that means.”
Are we seriously that unknown still!!!
“Not the foggiest idea.” He informs her, before resting his chin on his fist, “Are you a band of musicians?” He guesses.
“No.” Blossom corrects him.
Where did that come from?
Trying again he lets out, “An organized crime syndi-”
“No! And why was that your second choice!?” He shrugged his shoulders, and she let out another sigh.
This guy makes me wanna bang my head into a wall… Probably shouldn't do that or else it would cause property damage.
Taking it upon herself as the leader, Blossom decides to fully explain herself at that moment, “We, the Powerpuff Girls, are the superheroes of Townsville!”
A long silence emerges after the end of her sentence. Dexter’s glare shifts slightly, becoming less pointed, and he moves a hand to cover his mouth.
There we go, now he’s impressed, and I bet pretty embarrassed about blowing up as well. It’s fine of course, it wouldn't be okay for us to hold petty grudges over-
“Hahahahahahahahahahahahaha” He lets out a maniacal uproar, which turns the heads of most of the class.
Grudge for all time, until the day I die.
Almost hunched over, with speech spliced into his cackle, “Did you, Haha, seriously believe that, Ha, an excuse like that-”
He managed to stop himself, only giggling at this point. “-would work after getting caught for your deception!” His fist thud gently against the desk, as his other hand wiped a tear from his eye.
That’s a first…
“But we-” Blossom tried to counter.
“Desperation really is quite the pitiful thing.”
Says the one who can’t understand subtlety for the life of him.
Blossom’s cheeks begin to burn red, but it's suppressed by an alert from her phone, looking around she sees her sisters get the same notification.
The three stand up simultaneously, “Oh you three do not have to go, your sense of humor has-”
Blossom flies over to the teacher, and shows her the notification with a red phone on it, and text that reads, “Powerpuff Girls Needed” underneath, getting a nod of approval.
The three rocket over to the window, and the Powerpuff leader opens it up for her sisters to fly through.
Looking back to see the bespeckled boy slack jawed, she gives him a smirk and blasts off into the sky. As the wind blows past her she smiles wider thinking of the priceless expression her new classmate was making.
For moments after the Powerpuff girls made their leave, Dexter remained stiff in his seat, eyes wide and directed at the window where they had made their exit. The trails they left behind are still just as bright in his mind, he’s broken out of his trance by the words of the teacher.
“Since today is the first day, do all of you want to just watch whatever it is they’re fighting wherever it’s being streamed?” The bulldog-faced educator lets out in an uninterested tone.
Various nods of approval come from the student body, and the projector is promptly set up with a news channel streaming on mute to the classroom. Strutting through the city, looked to be cyclops of sorts, which was occupied with three whizzing lights around it, one green, one pink, and one blue.
What in the name of reason is that monstrosity, and how have I never heard of this city before!?
Dexter keeps his eyes glued to the dancing lights surrounding the beast, The green trail seems to contend with the monster directly, pushing it back and towards the coastline.
That is most likely the blunt sister.
He notices, staying in the peripheral vision of the monospected entity, the blue trail acts as a distraction. Creating openings for the green.
A fitting role for the Eldritch Entity in blue.
The creature continues to be pushed back to the beach, moving closer and closer to water. When a swipe comes close to one of, what the boy recognizes as the sisters, the pink trail intercepts. Eventually the monster trips from their feet sinking into the tide.
Pushing it towards the sea, making sure it did not notice the loose wet sand or the returning tide… that must have been planned out I assume, but when did-
Before Dexter can question further, the camera zooms as soon as the titan falls, showing Blossom take a deep breath. Releasing from her mouth a pale blue stream that freezes the water as soon as it makes contact, entirely immobilizing the felled colossus.
That was surgical in its precision, but does that thing not have the strength to break free at some point, what shall they do to deal with it?
Suddenly the blue clad girl came to the forefront of the camera, and began speaking, the teacher unmuted the audio and the pigtailed girl's voice came through clearly.
“-and so the weather out on the beach right now is so lovely right, I think it would be best if-”
The reporter could not get a word in edgewise with the exuberant young lady taking the spotlight.
Why am I not surprised that this seems fitting-?
As Dexter was completing his inner repudiation he noticed in the corner of the screen a flash of pink moving past the camera. The blue clad girl, in an unceremonious fashion, begins wrapping up whatever it was she was talking about.
“Well, I’m glad we can meet each other again, TownsvilleTV team, but we all gotta make it back to our class! It’s the first day after all! Okay goodbyeeee~”
Her voice fades in the distance as a blue trail streaks behind her. The camera points back to where the Abomination was and hysterical confusion arises from the news team as nothing remains besides floating chunks of ice.
Wait where did such a massive creature go, there is no way it escaped and is unaccounted for?
Scratching his chin, the boy genius begins ruminating.
There is something suspicious about that set of events…
The school bell rings and the instructor dismisses the class to their lunch period. Dexter begins moving to the academy quad, attempting to rationalize the discrepancies of the situation. As he makes it out of the building, three bright lights trail above him, landing swiftly some yards away. The three sisters speak to one another casually, and the boy genius decides to investigate the matter further.
Trudging up to the ‘Superhero’ trio, he attempts to grab their attention. “I would like to question you about the event on the television.” The three remain silent for a moment after his declaration, until the ribbon-wearing sister steps forward.
“You know it’s rude to not start a sentence with ‘hello’ or in your case an apology for laughing in our faces.” She crosses her arms and stiffens her back.
His eyes narrow, as he forgets his original purpose in order to further spar with his redheaded fellow, he fires back, “If it was not for that interruption, what reason would I have to believe your absurd statement was the truth?”
Pointing his finger up condsendly he continues, “If I had referred to myself as something along the lines of ‘Dexter, Boy Genius’ and did not provide ample proof of my credentials, would you have believed me?”
“Well I’d think you were really arrogant-” Blossom begins to counter but is cut off.
“But you would not believe my claim.” He grins at her pout.
“It was my class schedule that allowed you to infer the nature of my intelligence.”
“Even if it’s true you're still too arrogant about it…” she muttered
Picking up her whispers the ginger boy prods more, “But you still admit it is true.”
“I still wouldn’t have laughed in your face about it.”
“That’s because my claim is less ridiculous than claiming to be superhuman.”
She crosses her arms, “Tell me, what kind of genius can’t pass first year english?”
The statement earns a glare from both the bespectacled blue eyes aimed at her own and the emerald eyes directed at the back of her head.
Speaking up behind the red ribboned girl the ebony haired sister retaliates, “Hey! First year English gets confusing!”
A voice of agreement comes from the boy, “Its requirements are nonsensical to complete!”
Shrugging, the redhead addresses her sister “It’s fine if someone needs extra help with that class, but… ”
Turning her head back to look at the boy “I wouldn’t go around calling that person a genius now would I?” It’s plain to see for the boy genius that her smirk only widens at his frustration.
“Aghh, you- you- you win this verbal altercation, but not the next!” He stomps off fully forgetting the original intention for initiating the interaction.
Words fade away behind him, “Wait didn’t you have a ques-” and he doesn’t stop due to embarrassment.
If I went back after I stormed off, It would be a wound to the next verbal sparring match by giving her the ammunition she so desires. No, I will uncover this conspiracy myself. Like a genius should.
Blossom takes in the echo reverberating through the stairwell as she listens to Bubbles rant about the class they just finished.
“That teacher’s a hack!” Her sister’s voice breaks the rhythmic taps bouncing off the wall.
She attempts to de-escalate her sister’s mood, “They’re a highschool teacher sis, I don’t think they’re qualified to lecture about ‘queer themes in The Murders in the Rue Morgue ’ so there's no use getting upset about it.”
Why did she have to get interested in poetry last year, and why did it lead to her obsession with all things Edgar Allen Poe.
“If our teacher is going to be doing an entire section on short stories, which was on the syllabus she handed out, then I’d expect her to at least have an idea about the hidden themes within one of, if not the best American short story writer’s well known works!”
Seeing her sister worked up like this had become more common as Bubbles increased her interest for the macabre author.
I didn’t know that story even existed, much less its themes, and I honestly think it's the same for the teacher.
Rather than voice her thoughts, she decided that distracting her pigtailed sister was for the best.
Hopefully this distraction works as well as with that cyclops guy.
“Maybe you can write about it when we get to that section of the class, I’m sure she’d appreciate it.”
“Oh I am definitely writing her an essay about it! Just you wait , Ms. Cortez .” Hearing her sister's scheme in the background makes the redhead realize she and Buttercup will probably have to proofread that essay at least ten times before Bubbles is satisfied with its quality.
Sorry Buttercup I think I’ve roped you into a fate worse than death.
Coming to split in the hallway, their paths diverge from here, “Thanks for the idea sis! Me and Buttercup will meet you at the gate after you finish your class with Bobblehead Boy. Oh, tell him I say Hi by the way!”
“I don’t think I’ll be able to get a word in edgewise. That guy looks like the type to hold a grudge…”
Even if he’s clearly in the wrong.
She keeps to herself, only letting out a frustrated sigh.
Her sister giggles and attempts to reassure her, “I’m sure it’ll be fine, he gets distracted so easily that he’ll probably get over whatever he’s upset about as soon as the topic of discussion changes. He seems pretty scatterbrained like that.”
Narrowing her eyes, the blonde begins to speak more quietly, “Of course if you try to kiss him again like in history class I’m sure he’ll forget.”
Et-tu Bubbles?
“I did not try to kiss him!” Blossom puts her hand over her mouth after speaking too loud, she takes a deep breath and continues.
“I just got blindsided by the fact he’s taking such advanced material for our age.”
Muttering to herself as she turns her back, “As if I’d kiss an egomaniac like Dexter .”
Bubbles continues snickering to herself as the two part ways.
The ribboned girl finds her class is almost full and decides to take a seat at the front near an empty desk. The redhead sees a familiar bag under the adjacent desk
Are you kidding me!?
she's unable to let out a groan before being startled with a grating tone.
“Was it really necessary to take the seat next to my own?” A deadpan Russian accent accusingly asks, causing the girl to jump slightly, yelping.
You little-
Pinching her eyes together, the pink clad girl responds, “If I knew that the other seat was yours I’d have… still sit here cause I want to be at the front of the room… but I’d have been unhappy about it.”
“Are you not unhappy now?” Dexter side eyes her while pulling out a notebook from his bag.
Smartass.
“I’m still unhappy about it, is that better?” He doesn’t respond, when Blossom turns her head she sees him totally absorbed, as he jots down the structure of a table of context in his notebook.
That’s actually a good idea for note taking I gotta admit.
Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing his influence on her, she begins making one in her own notebook while the cover faces him.
She’s brought out of her writing by a critique, “The headings should have a larger gap between them, otherwise you will run out of space when you need to write a particularly long label.”
Looking back up she sees him still staring at his own notebook. “It is a mistake you only make once, but it is not a mistake that is fun to learn from.”
Can this guy just stop with the constant corrections!
Blossom still erases what she just wrote and makes the adjustments he suggests.
The class continues and introductions are had between peers, Blossom makes sure to avoid grouping with her egotistical neighbor. From the sounds of it, Dexter seems to be much less talkative when he has no one to argue with.
Lucky them I guess.
But something feels off about the conversation he’s privy to. She ignores the inkling and continues with the ice breakers, everyone else already knew of her of course, so most conversation revolved around her superhero activities.
“Where did that ugly monster even come from Blossom?” One of her classmates asks her, referring to the unfortunate events of hours passed. “Oh, we aren’t 100% sure, but I am sure that he won’t come back.” She replies with a smile knowing it’s a half truth at best.
Well he’s not coming back but I do know that it was just some unlucky guy caught up in a science experiment gone wrong. I’m glad Bubbles has such an infectious personality or else the cameras may have potentially broadcast that guy's lowest moment in life.
The ribboned girl can feel eyes piercing the back of her head. looking back she sees the bespectacled boy studying her, she reckons he may have been listening to her conversation just now.
Kinda creepy not going to lie.
The way he stared at her was as if he were looking through her, his furrowed brow signaling he knew she was hiding something, what that was she herself was unsure. He returned his attention to his group and she returned to hers. The teacher eventually asks the students to introduce who they were in discussion with, in order to complete the first day exercise.
Eventually the boy Dexter had conversed with is called upon, “The err-individual whom I vas dizzgussing with, iz named Dexter-” sporadic chuckles and snickering surfaced across the classroom.
Rude!
Blossom sees the deadpan of her fellow redhead’s face crack ever so slightly at the mockery of his accent. The fissures in his facade reveal hurt and discomfort.
Well that guy’s in for a verbal assassination the moment Dexter’s turn comes up.
When the bespectacled boy’s turn arrives, the redhead girl humbly awaits with reserved satisfaction the coming retribution.
It’ll be nice to see what it looks like when that sharp tongue of his isn’t being used against me.
“I talked with Spencer Mathews, he enjoys Call of Duty.” Is all that comes from his mouth.
That's it?
She notices the young genius retreat into himself, not speaking again, nor did he seem to pay attention to anything but his own empty desk till the end of the class introductions and subsequently the class itself. She sees him promptly remove himself from the classroom when they are all dismissed and he gets lost in the crowd before she could offer any words of encouragement.
The night air atop the dorm building is chilling and curfew passed at least 30 minutes prior. Dexter wasn’t sure, he was glued to his screen searching through various news reports and mobile phone videos frame by frame. Yawning, he eventually decides to glance at the digital clock.
22:04 o’clock, So, approximately 1 hour and a half prior.
He goes back to scanning through the frames. Finally he finds it. The angle he needed to crack this case wide open. The video was posted 6 hours earlier onto some obscure forum from a mobile phone.
It has few if any views, is too shaky to make out much of anything, filmed at an angle which only showed the beach partially, and through the scant commentary revealed the original poster’s uncouth intentions while watching the pig tailed girl perform in front of the news crew.
But for a scant few frames the image clearly shows the cyclops… regressing into the form of a man.
That was a person? A freak experiment that had gone awry? Why was the Blue frilled anomaly hiding that fact?
He pinches his eyes closed as he attempts to think of the reason.
Although I had my suspicions. Previous video of the green one speeding over to a building in disrepair, which I figured was a Laboratory from searching through online mapping applications.
A puzzle begins to put itself together.
“So, the man trapped himself in that unfortunate form. In that state he goes on a rampage. Somehow, which I’m yet unsure of, they figure out his predicament.”
The situation becomes more clear.
“Then they use his equipment to produce a cure, or more likely, a cure already existed, and or he had it written down in some notes, because I doubt they simply synthesized an antidote while in combat.”
Something was still not making sense to him and he furrows his brow.
Why would the blonde nightmare need to distract the cameras? Did they need to privately discuss the situation?
“No, they could have done so after he had reverted back without haste.”
Were the two factions aligned in some way, perhaps a test run of the serum, and an opportunity at publicity.
“It does not make much sense to hide the reversal so no to that possibility as well…”.
Were they perhaps… attempting to salvage his reputation?
His last thought sparks a metaphorical lightbulb.
“Fearing for the man’s reputation, once they had discovered the truth, they decided to allow him to preserve his dignity by keeping his transformation secretive.” He outlines to himself.
After realizing the truth, the boy genius snaps his laptop shut.
This was… minorly intriguing, but in all honesty I am unsure if it was worth the effort.
He yawns loudly again.
Or the sleep deprivation.
Before standing to leave he thinks back to the various different videos of the encounter, along with some other encounters he’d skimmed due to curiosity. Thinking back to the shows of strength, the feats beyond comprehension, the tactical finesse, all those videos introduced him to.
Although I had been skeptical of their abilities previously, these… “Powerpuff Girls” are quite remarkable I must admit.
Especially the organizing capabilities of their leader, even if her incessant antagonistic attitude towards me is grating. They all are truly special individuals…
His mind continues to forge forward.
Subjects worthy of study no doubt…
An objective becomes clearer and clearer for every moment that passes.
“That’s it!” He exclaims.
“This shall be the escape from the mundanity I’ve found myself in!” His epiphany fully develops.
“I’ll figure out everything I can about these ‘Powerpuff Girls’ and record it meticulously. Every detail, every statistical anomaly, every fantastic characteristic, I shall explore the very quantum of it!”
Smiling maniacally, the urge to cackle is irresistible and so he holds nothing back. “I’ll dissect them if I have to, and I’ll make sure that not a nerve is unaccounted for!”
An audience of stars bear witness to a shattering cachinnation which only stops when the young frankenstein begins to pant.
Catching his breath, he chortles again more quietly, but stops short at the sound of another person's laugh mixed with his own.
Breaking into a cold sweat, he scans the roof before his eyes land on a hooded figure sitting against the wall on the way down to the dorms.
His blood runs cold as the stranger gets up and staggers towards him, hunched over. Words would not come out of the ginger’s mouth, only stutters escape.
The stranger looms above him.
They had a wide toothy smile and rosy cheeks. Dexter could not see their eyes through the sunglasses they were wearing.
Why would thy be wearing those when it’s pitch dark out?!
Raising up a red gloved hand and waving it slowly the smiling stranger finally speaks.
“Well, hello there young man. What could it be that you’re doing out here at this cursed time?” They stretched out every word and their voice was unnaturally posh.
“You see I couldn’t help but overhear your little, fufufu , declaration, fufufufu .” Their hand moves like a puppet on a string covering the stranger's mouth as they continue to giggle.
He finally finds his own voice again, “W-Who Are you? A-A-and what are you doing here, e-eavesdropping on my monologue?”
“Oh I am simply a fellow enthusiast that is all, fufufu .”
That did not answer a thing!
Before the boy can question them further, the stranger speaks again, “If you absolutely must know, I am, just as I said, another enthusiast of the Powerpuff girls -” On their last words the posh voice dropped, replaced by a sudden rasp,
“-just like yourself!” The posh tone returned.
“I am not an enthusiast of them, I am-” The stranger cuts him off.
“You do not have to hide your affections. You only want to examine every facet of their being, isn’t that right?” He wasn’t fond of that phrasing but nods in acceptance nonetheless.
The stranger's grin somehow grows wider, and their stilted hand makes its way into the folds of their jacket. Taking out a figurine, they push it onto Dexter, “Then I would suggest you take this fabulous charm of good fortune.”
Looking over the redwood object in his hands, he realizes it’s a figurine of a Powerpuff girl, specifically a figurine of Blossom.
“Luck is not a real factor that can be quantified beyond chance.” He comments as he admires the craftsmanship of the Powerpuff statue.
“When dealing with beings beyond comprehension, finding power in the incomprehensible may save your life.” The boy looks back up to reply but only sees an empty roof.
Feeling a chill up his spine he chooses not to question the unsettling circumstance, instead deciding to sneak back down to his dorm. As he looks upon the figure again, he feels… at ease?
Regardless of strange vagrants loitering on roof tops with their… stupendously crafted might I say… wooden trinkets, tonight was indeed fruitful.
He manages to escape detection and slowly closes the door to his single person dorm. Making his way to his desk, he sets down the wooden idol, and takes out a spare notebook.
I am finally with purpose again. (A hollow one.)
Dexter’s eyes fixate as he begins to pen out his plans.
After all, discovery is the greatest motivation.