TW: stage fright

We did not, in fact, do the hanky panky or any variation of the form when we returned to the bounty.

Why? Because Lloyd said one sentence when we settled on the deck; "I need to tell my father about the Sons of Garmadon's plans" and suddenly any sense of lighthearted, touchy-feely, please-god-bite-me had disappeared in an instant. Fear returned in its place, and a chill had taken home in my abdomen.
Because, right. He was in danger. We were all in danger. This was a dangerous situation and I should really stop thinking about Lloyd's fangs or about how long it's been since we've had a good make out session.
"Do you want me to come with you?" I asked when Bentley disappeared. It was nearing on the dead of night, and it was freezing in the shadows of Hollow's Bluff. Jay had already gone inside, seeking warmth and I would've had half a mind to join him if it weren't for the look on my lover's face.
Lloyd seemed as if he was going to say no but thought better of it, and nodded.
"He might need you," Lloyd murmured, taking my hands in his and knitting our fingers. The night breeze shuffled through his blond hair and his dark brows bunched as he stared at our intertwined hands. "And I... I need you. I took it pretty bad, but I have no idea how dad will take this." He sighed and closed his eyes. His lashes brushed his cheeks and glinted in the moonlight. "People treat him... people treat him much worse than they treat me."
I smiled sadly at the painful look on Lloyd's face. He loved his father so much, and telling Garm something as life changing as being a by-product of an oni-dragon union of hate must've been terrifying for him. I would never let him conquer something like that alone.
I squeezed his hands and kissed his knuckles.
"I'm with you," I whispered.

Lloyd raised his gaze to mine. Grateful burgundy swallowed the green of his irises; a slow, cascading warmth that dripped outward from the darkness of his pupil. The sight of it never failed to make me catch my breath.
"Thank you, my sunlight."
People were still awake when we entered the bridge - unsurprising, even though given the time; the team rarely slept while on missions, or kept any semblance of a normal schedule as is.
Kai, Nya and Harumi were quietly sitting at the table, with the siblings engrossed in a game of tabletop rugby and the Princess contently reading a book.
My book, I suddenly realised with a vehement twist of annoyance. My hand tightened in Lloyd's.

It's okay. It's okay. It's fine.

I hoped that she got one of the others to grab it, rather than entering Lloyd's and my room herself. There was something that just felt so inherently wrong about the thought of her entering our room, our safe space, and rifling through our stuff while I wasn't there.
Garmadon was already turning to greet us as we slipped through the entrance, Jay beside him as he hesitantly waited for the debrief to the Sensei. Lloyd still had that troubled expression on his face, and I mustered an impassive look onto mine, less the pinch of anger towards the poor princess who really didn't deserve my rage made itself known.
"Dad," Lloyd said, and I noticed that his voice caught hollowly on the last consonant; the only thing privy to his breakdown just a few hours prior - his steel guard eyes gave away nothing. Harumi glanced up from Wuthering Heights, soft hazel gaze hovering on the side of Lloyd's face. "Can we talk?"
Garmadon straightened, frown hardening. He gave a single, firm nod, and we followed him out of the bridge and towards the quarters. Jay sighed in audible relief and retreated to take the seat next to Nya.
Garmadon's room in the bounty was much like the others; barebones with a bed, dresser and a couple of extra storage crates that the hull couldn't hold. Splashes of his personality existed, however, in the fabric murals of ancient depictions of forests and temples that hung on the walls, in the gorgeous tea pot on the dresser that had retired from use and was instead employed to hold extra little knick knacks - pennies, buttons, pencils. It existed in the old, muted green rug that laid upon the floor, in the little bonsai tree on the bedside table that was still struggling to return to life, in the drawers full of cotton pants and shirts and the pile of abandoned lesson books that sat on the floor, gathering dust.

"What did you find?" Garmadon asked as soon as I shut the door behind us. Lloyd's hand reached for mine when we faced the old man, positioned across from each other in the room like some sad sort of western stand off. "Why did you split off from Cole and Zane?"
"They went to interrogate the sog member, but when we went to Mistaké's..." My murmur trailed off and I glanced unsurely at Lloyd, whose green eyes matched my own hesitant worry. We went in blind to this; we should've made a game plan to break the news. Now we were fumbling with our heads barely above the water and we were sinking fast.
Lloyd swallowed. He turned to his dad.
"We found out what we are," he said finally, and Garmadon's face morphed into a look of curious reluctance. "Mistaké had this huge mural and she spoke of the true origins of this world, of your father-"
"Lloyd, please," Garmadon interrupted his ramble, fixating a desperate look upon his son. "Just tell me."
Lloyd inhaled, a short, sharp breath that scraped between his teeth. His grip on my hand tightened.
"Dad..." he murmured quietly, staring him dead in the eyes. "We're part oni and dragon."
I anxiously chomped on my bottom lip as I watched Garmadon's reaction; first, he froze, unblinking, staring at Lloyd as he ran this new information through his head and weighed it. Then, a stuttery, raking gasp had him stepping back and sitting heavily on the edge of his bed, gazing at the wall, eyes lost.

The only sounds in the silent room were three lungs breathing, the tick of a clock, the creak of wood and rhythmic slosh of ocean water. I swallowed, and it sounded like a drum of thunder in my ears. Lloyd glanced at me; fear in green.
"That's not all," he murmured as he turned back to his father. "The Sons of Garmadon... they want to use the three oni masks to make you evil again."
Garmadon was silent for a long time. Lloyd's hand grew clammy and loose in my own, but I only tightened my hold.
"... Garm?" I murmured quietly, ducking my head so I could garner his attention. His eyes caught mine. A shallow sigh.
"I'm okay," he said wearily, but the way he said it was like trying to tell me that the Overlord had a sense of humour; unconvincing.
Garmadon stood and wrangled a poker face into submission. With a huff through his nose, he stepped around us and opened the door. He stood there, hand on the door frame, shoulders slouched and looked nothing like the self sufficient, regal man that he usually did. Lloyd and I stared after him, and worry clenched my gut into pretzels.
"We should check on Zane and Cole," he murmured before leaving the room and subsequently us, in silence.
Lloyd staggered, weight dropping from his lifted chin to his slumped shoulders. I felt my weighted sigh go with him as it slipped from my lips.

"I need some water," he murmured while running a hand down his face.
"It could've gone worse," I murmured with a half-hearted shrug as I tried to convince myself of my own words. "He could've... had a fit, or something."
"Y/n," Lloyd said disbelievingly. He sent me a look that told me that he knew I didn't believe myself. "You know my father almost as well as I do."
"I was just trying to make us feel better," I admitted with a pout. His responding smile was small.
"And I appreciate it," Lloyd murmured. He placed one hand on the back of my head, fingers plaiting through my hair, and pulled me forward to place a soft kiss on my forehead. It lingered, lips not leaving my skin and I felt a flushed warmth begin to spread. "I really need some of that happy magic of yours."
"Mmm..." I hummed as I thought for something happy. I poked Lloyd in the tummy. "Puppy kisses. All slobbery and full of love."
I felt his lips turn into a smile.
"Kashu kisses?"
"Yeah!" I beamed. "Kashu kisses."
"Ah," Lloyd said as he leant back and sent me an endearing, beloved smile. "Your happiness magic is working. I feel better already."
My smile grew, and then slowly faded. He understood my sombreness.
"He just needs time." Lloyd curled a lock of my hair around a finger.
"I thought I was here to help you with this," I huffed. He shrugged, tiny smile still refusing to budge.
"It's a give and take." His finger slipped from my hair like water over rocks. His palm found my cheek instead. "Always has been with us, doll."
I warmed under his confidence. Tilting my head as to kiss his wrist, I inhaled through my nose and settled a strong look over my face.
"We should check on Garm."

He was in the bridge with the rest of the team, leaning on the console with a lost look on his face. Jay glanced up from where he was leaning against Nya and sent us an expectant look; was it time for the debrief?
"How far away are Cole and Zane?" Lloyd answered Jay's unspoken question. Three heads looked up from the table.
"Pretty far," Nya replied. "They're still following a lead. Why? Is everything okay?"
Lloyd hesitated. His body faltered at the head of the table, and I figured that he could also feel the suffocating weight of Garmadon's presence behind us. Lloyd was balancing two evils, trying to weigh the pros and cons; does he tell the others of the Sons of Garmadon's plans and risk his father suffering hearing the same painful words twice? Or does he risk his team being kept unaware and oblivious, kept on a back step and have less of an advantage?
The throes of being a son and a team leader. The throes of having to make such decisions.

"The Sons of Garmadon want to bring back Lord Garmadon."

The decision was made and the results were in. A loud, metallic clang from behind had me flinching.
Garmadon was breathing heavily, a desperate attempt to control himself. His arm was deeply embedded into the console, boarded by creased metal and snapped, sparking wires. Concern and fear encased me whole as I watched him yank his arm from the wreckage and stagger to the kitchen.
For a brief second, I forgot that he had snippets of Lloyd's destructible power, too.
"Oh, my god," I faintly heard Nya whisper in horror.
"But they can't-" Kai stammered in alarm. "They can't do that. We can't let them!"
"And we won't," Lloyd said steadily. "My father doesn't deserve to go through that again."
My attention slowly drifted back to the table, but I was still aware of Garmadon in the kitchen. Before me was an audience of fear and shock. Even Harumi's eyes were wide from the revelation. Her gaze met mine and she was quick to drop it, her chin ducking to her chest as her platinum hair tumbled over her shoulder and hid her stunned face.
The team began to discuss strategies - about how to locate the third oni mask and how to keep the gang from obtaining it. Just as I was in the middle of wondering when Lloyd was going to let the others know about his heritage and what this meant to the mission, I noticed Harumi quietly stand and slip from the room.

She didn't even excuse herself. Didn't princesses always excuse themselves? She always had before.

Maybe I was being paranoid. Maybe I was sleep deprived. Maybe I was just intimidated by her confidence around Lloyd. Whatever it was, it drove me to follow the trail of her ghoulish hair as it slipped down the corridors of the old ship.
Chasing the loose tendrils of her soft, messy bun was like tailing a ghost. She was fast, discreet, silent, and I worked hard to be just as fast, discreet and silent.
The quiet pads of her footsteps down stairs told me she'd entered the hull. My paranoia rose. What business does she have to go into the hull? It's just storage down there.
Nevertheless, I descended after her.
I winced with each creak of wood, each hurried footstep, each time I thought I lost her in the labyrinth of the hull's storage crates. It was like trying to keep up with a phantom.
Finally, I managed to catch her. She'd found the old wall phone - an encrypted line of Jay's very own design - and was speaking quickly and hushed. I edged closer, crawling along the crates that shielded me of her gaze, and inched my way closer into earshot.
I couldn't hear much. She was almost inaudible, and I didn't dare get any closer. If I were to be caught, what would I say? That I had a bad feeling about her? I was sure that she'd be thrilled to have a stalker-

"... Garmadon- ..."

I sucked in a breath and covered my mouth with my hands. My spine prickled.
No. No, I was certain. I wasn't sure of the context or whoever was on the other side of the conversation, but I knew that Princess Harumi was talking about the Garmadon's. Her very own velvety voice proved it.
My eyes darted in the darkness of the hull and my skin began to shiver. I could feel it, the trembling against my muscles, the tightening of my joints, the cool sense of dread within my chest. What did she have to do with the Garmadon's? I wished that I could hear more, but my heartbeat was too loud and my thoughts were on a noisy rampage.
The click of an old, plastic phone being hung up. Footsteps resumed. I stayed dreadfully still, as still as a corpse within a grave, as the hauntingly beautiful, sinisterly sweet princess glided on past me, hidden in the shadows.
Her hair covered her eyes. I was afraid of what look might be in her hazel gaze. I was afraid that my suspicions were true. I'd known. I'd known all along.
I could feel it in the way Harumi held herself; that tense perfectionist, the high chin, the stern perch of her brows. The chill. The cold.
I could feel in in the fact that she did not mourn for her parents, or for any of the palace's dead staff.
I could feel it in the sharpness of her gaze, so wicked it could draw blood. The calculating looks she gave me, as if counting my inadequacies. The forced, sickening happiness that consumed her expression when she saw Lloyd.

And Lloyd, who didn't see the uncanny valley of it. The psychopathic robot behind her unsuspecting face.

I didn't dare move until her footsteps had long faded, and then after another ten panicky minutes of sitting in dead silence after that.

🍃🍂🍁🍂🍃

I'm being paranoid. I'm being paranoid. I'm being paranoid.

I stared at my feet as I quickly padded down the hall of the bounty, gripping my arms as if I could hold my sanity together. But it was like sand, and no matter what I did, I couldn't stop the ferocious winds from ripping it from my grasp.
I gripped my arms harder. I was sure that I was cutting off circulation, but my head was too crowded with thoughts to even realise that.
I couldn't swallow. The dryness, the itchy, raspy flesh of my throat refused such a relief.
I'm being paranoid.
But why was she on the phone? Who was she on the phone with? Why was she talking about the Garmadon's?
My eyes began to water. It was as if the crammed, jostling thoughts had grown too much for my head and tried to escape through my eyes, instead.
Freedom, they seemed to shout as frightened tears streamed down my cheeks. Freedom. Harumi's a traitor. Freedom.
But was she? Or was I putting my own theatrical spin on something I didn't hear? She could've said anything; I didn't actually hear what she was saying. She could've just been speaking to a friend. Maybe calling a palace worker to get an idea on who survived. The place workers all knew that Lloyd was the green ninja, so the name 'Garmadon' being tossed in that kind of conversation shouldn't be too impossible.

Besides, besides, if Harumi really were a traitor, wouldn't one of the others have picked up on it by now?
They dealt with this kind of stuff on the regular. I should be at university, goddamnit, I didn't belong on a mission. Lloyd said so himself.
Harumi's not a traitor. I don't belong here.
I'm being paranoid and out of line.
And yet, it still felt like I was mouse, navigating the labyrinth that was the bounty, just hoping that I wouldn't cross tracks with the Minotaur. I was skittish, frightened, out of my head. My mind was ground zero for a war between logic and paranoia.
A laugh echoed down the long hallway. It bounced off the wooden planks and encircled me. Jay. It was Jay.
They're the ninja, I reminded myself as I forced my feet to halt. Steady your thoughts. If Harumi was suspicious, then one of them would've picked up on it by now.
You're just intimidated. You're just jealous of her.
I sucked in a deep breath and forcefully relaxed my grip on my arms, one finger at a time. With it, I pushed every nonsensical fear from my head.

And then they quickly bombarded me once again, scrambling for space in a crowded jumble when I spotted a white-haired figure in the otherwise empty common room.

Truthfully, I didn't even know that the common room existed until Garmadon asked the team to remove the storage crates that had been stacked in there. Apparently, it used to be where the entire team slept. I could imagine the young teenage warriors bustling each other on their way to their own bunks. The covers were still colour-coordinated. A seperate bed had been haphazardly put together for Lloyd. I'm pretty sure it was from Ikea.
I wondered why - and when - the team decided that they needed their own space.
Harumi was standing away from me, staring at the cork board with her head tilted. She looked as if to be examining the old, faded photos that had sat there for years, forgotten. I hovered in the doorway, unsure whether to breach the room or to continue be on my way.
Then, slowly, deftly, she pulled two photos from her jacket pocket and pinned them to the board; a somber remembrance amongst the excited, exuberant throng of pins, photo booth strips and other memorabilia. I could see then even from here; two family photos. One happy, young, carefree and full of love. The other cold, rigid, stood like a statue. It was clearly of her birth parents and the emperor and empress who adopted her. Both sets of parents, now deceased.
I could barely imagine losing one of my parents. But four? The pain of it, the empty loneliness... I couldn't even begin to imagine.

As Harumi stroked the photo of happy parents and a little blonde girl, I felt a pang of guilty pity strike through me. She was clearly hurt, clearly broken, so who was I to assume her standings? Was I feeling unsettled just because she was another girl? Was I really that low?
I thought I was a better person than that.
"They look happy," I said. It was clear that my presence hadn't gone undetected. I was still a far cry from the team's unnoticeable stealth. Harumi didn't even look surprised to see me as I stopped next to her to examine the cork board full of memories.
"They were," she said in a quiet voice. I glanced at her from the corner of my eyes and almost caught my breath from the smile on her face. So beautiful, yet so incredibly in pain.
"I'm sorry," I murmured. "I'm sure they're proud of who you grew up to be."
Her smile fell. I faltered, thinking I'd said something offensive, but she changed the subject before I could even get a handle on the whiplash of emotions.
"Lloyd and his dad-" she brushed her fingertips along the white edge of a polaroid. "Have they always been close?"
I smiled at the photo she chose to focus on - a son and a dad, arms on shoulders, a totally mundane picture. If it weren't for the gi, the broken leg and the destroyed building behind them.

I wasn't there when it was taken, but I'd been told the story so many times that it felt as if I was right there on the sidelines.
(And I should've been, had the prophecy not been tampered with).
"Yeah, in their own funny little way," I answered fondly. "That was taken when Lloyd defeated the Overlord. It was the first time in over seven hundred years when Garmadon didn't have the evil from the snake in his veins. But even still, when he was evil, he cared for Lloyd." I sent the photo a small grin. "It's incredible. Even with all that evil, even with the green ninja as his enemy, it still wasn't enough for him to hate his son."
Harumi tore her eyes away from the photo.
"You admire him?"
I exhaled a soft laugh. "He's like a father to me. And with my own dad away all the time for his job... I dunno, I guess I didn't realise just how much I missed the stability of a father figure until I met Garm."
Harumi had fully turned towards me. I continued to take in all the photos on the cork board. Some I recognised, others were entirely foreign. It was odd seeing the team as fourteen, fifteen, sixteen year olds in pictures that I hadn't seen yet. It was like I was unlocking little pieces of the past, one photo at a time.

"Did you meet Lord Garmadon?" Harumi asked. Her hazel eyes pierced the side of my face.
"No." I shook my head. "I came after that. Truthfully, I'm glad I hadn't. My first impression of Garmadon was a good one, and I wouldn't trade it for the world." Of course, I was in the middle of a panic attack during said first impression, but I didn't let Harumi privy to that information.
"And Lloyd?" Harumi questioned. "Did you know that he was the green ninja when you started dating?"
I giggled at the memory of my own silly obliviousness. I was such a naive teen, with my nose too stuck in books and the allure of history to see what was staring me right in the face.
"No," I answered amusedly. My eyes rested on an old selfie of pre-tea Lloyd and Nya. I wondered how much convincing it would take for him to go bowl cut again, just for kicks. "I was friends with the green ninja, sure, but it was Lloyd who I was dating. Just so happened that my friend and my crush was the same person."
"You admire him, too," Harumi guessed.
"Well, yeah," I shrugged and turned to her. Her hazel eyes latched to mine like sharp little rings of coloured stone. "Don't we surround ourselves with people we admire? Their strength, or their grit, or their humour? It's who we admire that we make our best friends. I love him."

"Of course," Harumi smiled. She turned back to the board with a placid look in her eyes. "Who wouldn't love the green ninja?"

I went to carry on our easy conversation, but my reply got caught just behind my teeth. I hesitated to run her words back over my brain once more; had she really said that, or was I just hearing things? Did she ignore what I said earlier?
I felt wounded and spat down upon. I felt nothing but offence.
"It's not like that."
Harumi hummed sweetly. She didn't even bother to look at me, dark lashes fluttering as she gazed at the board of stolen memories.
"It's not?"
"No," I said strongly as a familiar flare of protectiveness sparked to life in my stomach. "He's more than just the green ninja. Surely you understand this."
"But, 'surely,"" Harumi countered in a voice that sounded like bells chiming, "the only reason you stuck with him was because of him being the green ninja." She pulled down a photo of a fifteen-year old Lloyd with Misako and Wu. "Why else would you deal with the repercussions of being involved with a Garmadon for so long? I can't imagine it's easy."
I felt at a loss for words. What was she trying to imply? I couldn't even think of a way to defend our relationship or even my own dignity.
"Well," Harumi said as she spun back round to face me and my gobsmacked expression. She clasped her hands in front of her regally and sweetly, as if she hadn't just been twisting my mind with insults. "We best be getting back to the others. They might be wondering where we are. After all-" her eyes glinted. They lost the pleasant glimmer. "It shouldn't take this long to make a call."

The princess spun on her foot and, with a swish of her hair and a flick of her dainty hand, she left the room like a breeze walking over a cloud. I could only stare dumbly after her, still reeling, stood in front of an old cork board. One of which she had now also staked her claim in.
She stuck two photos of her parents up on the board as if she owned the place. As if she had a part in the team. She'd swooped in and settled in faster than I could ever dream of. It'd been four years and I was still coming to terms with the fact that I knew that I'd never be on the same exact wavelength as them.
I didn't have a photo up on the cork board.
She walked out of the room, knowing that.

And as I watched Harumi stroll out of the room with her head high and shoulders back, I became impeccably aware of two things.

One - somehow, Harumi knew I was eavesdropping on her phone call, and she wanted to hold the fact that she knew over my head.

Two: fuck my prior logic and pity. Harumi was definitely not just a pretty little princess that could do no more than smile sweetly.

She was a force to be reckoned with. Her very own hurricane.
Was I ready to deal with a hurricane?

🍃🍂🍁🍂🍃

"Wait, wait-" Lloyd caught my flailing, gesturing hands with his own as we stood in the privacy of the engine room. "Let me get this straight; you think the princess is a traitor?"

"Yes!" I exclaimed. After finding Lloyd and yanking him into the room furthest from prying ears, I had word vomited to him everything that I found suspicious about Harumi in a panic-stricken haze. He was having a hard time trying to wrap his head around it. "Think about it, Lloyd! It all just - just - it all clicks into place!"
"Okay, okay," he soothed, placing a finger over my lips for a fraction of a second in a signal to quiet down - just in case. "Run it through me again, sunshine, but slower this time, please."
I pulled in a deep, dramatic inhale before heavily releasing and going through my points again; the lack of grief, the call, the fact that she knew I was listening, how she twisted what I was saying about our relationship.
"It's all just so weird," I insisted. "And it's like she's..." I had to swallow my pride. "It's like she's trying to make me jealous."
"Jealous?" Lloyd echoed with a furrowed brow that matched my own. Though, his was knitted by confusion, whereas mine was mushed and folded together by anxiety. "What for?"
"For you, Lloyd," I sighed. His face twisted into a perplexed look.
"Me?" he spluttered. "Y/n, sweetheart, I think you might be looking at this all the wrong way. The princess just lost her parents. She's probably just going through some stuff."
"This isn't 'some stuff,' Lloyd, she's doing this with intent!" I snapped. "I've given her chances and tried to convince myself that it's just me being unsettled or whatever, but this is-! Well, I don't know what it is, but... but..."

In my flustered ramble, I'd forgotten my point and basic vocabulary. As I struggled to scrounge words together, Lloyd tilted his head with a sorrowful look.
"You're tired," he said gently. "And I don't blame you. It's been over twenty-four hours since you've slept."
"I'm not sleep deprived," I slurred bitterly. He remained unconvinced. "I'm being serious, Lloyd."
"And I hear you," he reassured. He transferred his hands to clasp my shoulders. "And still think you need proper rest before you go accusing people of being traitors."
"Were you fully rested before you accused Pythor of being a traitor?" I scorned. He faltered.
"... that was years ago. That's irrelevant."
"It's all the relevance!" I said.
"Y/n." Lloyd said my name with emphasis. "Go to sleep. I'll keep an eye out on the princess in the meanwhile. Have some rest and when you're more clear-headed, we'll talk over a game plan."
I glared at his shirt. Why couldn't he see what so clearly lay obvious before us? Was I really the only one who saw the danger, here?
Lloyd gently placed a finger under my chin and tilted my head to face his. I grumpily met his eyes.
"Do we have a deal, pretty girl?"
God, no, that's not fair. I felt myself physically melt under the pet name. Stop it with your boyish witchcraft, you demon.

"Fine," I murmured. Lloyd smiled.
"Okay," he said, sounding pleased by my begrudging reluctance to rest. He placed a hand at the small of my back and guided us out of the room and into the hall. "I'll walk you back to-"
"There you two are!" Nya gasped as she appeared out of nowhere. We stared at her with wide eyes. "Hurry up! Zane and Cole are checking in."
"How the hell did you grow a moustache in three hours?" Was the first thing I incredulously asked when we arrived at the bridge.
"Does it really look that good?" Cole asked brightly as he peered into the comm's camera.
"No."
"Oh."
"We have a lead," Zane announced. "We are outside Laughy's Karaoke Club."
"The truth tea worked!" Cole burst.
"Yes..." Zane said slowly. His smile was smug in amusement. "In some form-"
"Shut up, tin can!"
"Alright, alright," Lloyd said, demanding attention. "Tell us about this lead. You said that you're outside Laughy's?"
"Isn't that a karaoke place?" I asked Kai. He nodded.
"It's ran by Dareth."
"It's what?" I whispered in confusion. "Since when?"
Kai shrugged. Zane continued.
"We are obtaining disguises to infiltrate the hangout, hence Cole's moustache," he said. "It will be an in-and-out mission. Intel gathering only. We will be in contact once we are successful."

Garmadon nodded.
"Stay safe, boys," he said.

🍃🍂🍁🍂🍃

"Our informant's intel has paid off," Zane said as he crouched behind a large metal dumpster. "Two high-ranking Sons of Garmadon just arrived. The one they call Ultra Violet, and the mysterious man with the swords."

Beside him, Cole was grimacing at the smell the mysterious squishy stuff that his shoes were currently half-congealed with.
"Good," Cole said. "Then we're one step closer to finding out who's in charge." His grimace turned into a gag when he moved his foot. "And getting out of whatever this stuff is."
Zane glanced at his companion. "Your foot is currently-"
"Do not tell me whatever shit my foot is in, please."
Zane offered a half-smile. "That may be for the best. You would not like the answer."
"Ughhuck," Cole snapped. He rose from behind the dumpster and shimmed against the brick wall to freedom. He brushed off his disguise - an open jean jacket that was missing its sleeves without a shirt - with a grimace before shooting Zane a look. "You're going to need a disguise, buddy. And aliases!"
Zane looked down at his white gi. It was still somehow pristine, but such was the mystery of a nindroid. Cole began pawing through the random knick knacks that had found a retirement on the alleyway's grimy floor.
"Aliases?" Zane questioned.
"Yes, Zane!" Cole nodded. He rose to his full height. "If we want to infiltrate their gang and gain their trust, they can't know we're ninja. I even scrounged up a disguise for you."

Zane peered at the offerings in Cole's grasp and piqued a brow.
"A tin trash lid and a can of shaving cream?"
Cole grinned, oblivious to the ice ninja's doubtful tone.
"Don't forget, you have to sell it," he encouraged. "My alias? Rocky Dangerbuff. Not too out there, but nothing too suspicious."
"Not too suspicious," Zane echoed dryly. He pushed Cole's gifts away and altered his synthetic appearance into something more unrecognisable - his once white hair turned brown, and his skin became dotted with freckles. "That won't be necessary. But if you would like to use the trash lid yourself-"
"No, Zane, it's okay," Cole grumbled, miffed at being shown up. He threw the lid and the shaving cream back into the bin. "But you still need a cover. Something tough. Something that says 'I'm bad.'"
"In my estimation, Rocky Dangerbuff is pretty bad."
Cole made a sound of offence. "Rocky Dangerbuff is my creative masterpiece! Fine. Your alias is..." he brightened when an idea struck, and lowered his voice into something mysterious. "Snake Jaguar."
"Snake Jaguar?"
"Snake Jaguar."

Zane released a breath. "... well, you were always much better at this than I was."
Pleased with his brother's cooperation, Cole grinned determinedly.
"You ready, Snake Jaguar?" he asked in a dramatic voice.
"I am, Rocky Dangerbuff."
Zane held back as Cole strutted confidently ahead, adopting a rather ridiculous stride that did a better job of standing out than it did blending in. He released a weary sigh.
"Please prepare options for escape routes, Pixal," he said. The direct line to his beloved picked up immediately. Her expectant face popped into view of his vis screens. "I do not have a good feeling about this plan."
He could see an amused smirk place itself over Pixal's lips.
"Way ahead of you."
Cole pushed the doors open with bolster and a wall of noise greeted them. Laughing, sneering, god-awful karaoke singing over the speakers - it was the perfect hang out for a gang. The secluded spot on the outer rim of the city helped, too. It was deep within gang territory.
"Dareth?" Cole asked in surprise as the two approached the bar after sending subtle looks over the surroundings. "What are you doing here?"

Dareth turned around before beaming in pleasant surprise. His forehead had a sheen of panicked sweat.
"Cole? Cole!" he exclaimed in joy. "You came to visit me!"
"Not so loud!" Cole hushed. "We're undercover."
"You're undercover?" Dareth blinked. Cole's shoulders slumped in disappointment.
"Really? Is my disguise so much worse than Zane's."
Dareth glanced at the man next to Cole and drew in a sharp gasp at the unfamiliar face.
"Hello, Dareth," Zane smiled. Dareth gasped again.
"My god, it is you!" he said in amazement. "You suit brown hair. Oh, boy, you guys gotta help me. I bought this stink hole, hoping to hold onto the glory days when I was fighting side-by-side with you guys-"
"Side-by-side?" Cole questioned unsurely.
"- only now the Sons of Garmadon have moved in and made my place their dive," Dareth bemoaned. "I can't get them to leave! You gotta help me!"
"We can't." Cole shook his head. "We need to keep our cover to get close to those two."
Dareth followed Cole's nod of his head and grimaced.
"You mean Mr. E and Ultra Violet?"
Zane and Cole looked at one another at the mention of an unfamiliar name.
"Mr. E?" Zane queried. "Is that the mysterious figure with the two swords?"
"You mean spooky silent?" Dareth cocked his head. "Yeah, that's him - gives me the heebies. Nobody talks to those two because he doesn't talk and she's off her rocker."

Cole turned to Zane with a frustrated expression.
"If we can't talk to them, how are we supposed to gain their trust?" he huffed. "I doubt they'd give out precious intel to just anyone. We have to play the long game."
"We do not have time to play the 'long game,'" Zane insisted. He was interrupted by a thug bowling into him to grab Dareth by the shirt.
"Oi, pipsqueak!" the thug yelled. "I said where's my drink!?"
Dareth sent the boys a please-help-me look.
"Sorry, can't help," he said as he worked his shirt from the thug's grasp. "Gotta go."
As Dareth turned to prepare the thug's drink, Cole pulled Zane out of earshot. Rubbing his hands together, he eyed the bustling scene with a sure fire smirk.
"All right, Snake Jaguar. Fire up those processors and tell me how we do this."
Zane followed his partner's gaze across the rambunctious crowd.
"We need to keep under the radar until ample opportunity. However, I have already ran countless simulations, and of the one-thousand, five hundred and seventy-two ways this could go, there is only one," he said. His icy blue eyes landed back on Cole and he sent a serious look. "But it's complicated... and dangerous."
"Then it's a good thing my last name is Dangerbuff," he grinned. "Lay it on me."

"... you have to sing."

"What?!" Cole blundered and sent Zane a horrified look. "I can't sing! What did I say earlier at the station when I drank that truth tea stuff? I'm deathly afraid, Zane, there has to be another way."
Zane gripped Cole's shoulders and sent him a stern look.
"Cole, you are the son of a Royal Blacksmith," he reminded in a strong voice. "You went to the Marty Oppenheimer School of Performing Arts. You have to trust me." He leant in close. "What would Rocky do?"
Cole's eyes brightened. Not by much, but it was enough to satisfy Zane.
"What would Rocky do?" Cole murmured to himself. Dolefully, Cole snaked his way through the crowd towards the stage.
"That took a lot less persuasion than I was expecting," Zane admitted. Pixal, still in his vis screens, rolled her eyes.
"You are cruel," she chuckled.
"Take it as a lesson in humility," Zane reassured with an amused grin. Cole clambered on stage and leant in close to the mic, hands fumbling.
"I..." He cleared his throat and the mic peaked, sending a shrill shriek through the speaker system. The crowed grimaced and groaned, but ultimately quietened. "I'm Rocky Dangerbuff, and here's something mean to sing-" he flicked a coin towards Zane, which he deftly caught. "Song number 159, pronto!"
Bristling under the curious stares, Zane quickly turned his back to the eyes and shoved the coin inside the jukebox.
"This is not being 'under the radar until ample opportunity,'" Pixal warned.
"I am aware," Zane said quietly. A tune began to flood from the speakers but the sound of sweet piano and childish xylophone submerged the room, rather than dangerous drum beats and screeching bass. "Oh, no."

Cole looked like he was about to shit his pants.

"What?!" he screeched while embarrassment made his entire face an impossible shade of red. "No! No, no! Not this! I wanted one-fifty-nine; 'Creeping Death!'"
Zane could only offer an apologetic wince. Cole began to fumble in a panic, raising a mic to his lips that trembled with his shaking hands.
"U- uh, shine little glow worm, glimmer, glimmer. Hey there, don't get dimmer, dimmer-"
The crowd began to boo, calling mean jeers and jostling their friends. If Zane could sweat out of regret, he would've quickly made Laughy's become an underwater bar.
"Zane," Pixal said. "The performance has caught the attention of Mr. E and Ultra Violet. I suggest switching to a direct link so the others can immediately deal with any information that we gather."
Zane nodded and adjusted the appropriate settings. He was deathly aware of the fact that Cole's off-key performance was now a live feed in the bridge, but he had to hope that the team wouldn't tease Cole too much about it.
"Shine little glow worm, glimmer glimmer," Cole sang pitchedly.
Admittedly, Zane didn't have too much hope about that one.
"Hey there, don't get dimmer dimmer." The sound of the crowd laughing almost rivalled the speaker system. "Glow little glow worm, glow and glimmer. Swim through the sea of night, little swimmer, shine!"

"Are you certain that this plan of yours will work?" Pixal asked worriedly as Cole began to get pelted at with bar peanuts. He was grimacing on stage but, bless his strength and soul, continued singing.
"Absolutely." Zane nodded. "And if it does not, well... I just forced Cole to deal with a very deep fear."
"Oh, boy," Pixal sighed.
"Light up you little 'ol bug of lightning. When you gotta glow you glimmer, glimmer- how long is this damn song?" Cole bellowed between deep, mistimed breaths. He avoided an entire packet of peanuts. "Hey! Littering is bad for the environment, didn't your momma teach you about manners?" He dodged another, and a new bout of laughter followed. Cole sighed, and the mic picked up his grumbled mutter. "Time for the Triple Tiger Sashay."
"Right on time," Zane smiled.

Because just as Cole went to make the illustrious, impossible dance move that only he - a ninja who just so happened to also know how to dance impeccably - his foot hit an unseen patch of liquid on the floor and he slipped right onto his back with a pained 'oof!'
He raised himself up with an arm to his head, and only had half a mind to realise that his moustache had fallen to his lap. He picked it up with one hand and slowly recognised the ratty piece of his disguise.
"Oh, rats," Cole whispered.
"Hey, he's one of the ninja!" yelled a gang member from the crowd. Cole looked up with a baffled, panicked expression.
And just like that, all hell broke loose.

"See, Pixal?" Zane said delightedly as he prepared himself for the upcoming surge of events. "My plans always work."