raisedbymoogles: (Zidane - flight)
raisedbymoogles ([personal profile] raisedbymoogles) wrote2017-07-16 12:12 am
Entry tags:

Ficblurt: new!Power Rangers crossover.

Because the image wouldn't leave me alone, that's why.

Beep beep bee-deep beep beep. …Beep beep bee-deep beep beep.

“…the hell?” Jason groped blearly for his phone. Unknown number, the display read, and below it, 3:17 AM. “Not a chance, asshole,” he mumbled, hit the red ‘hang up’ icon and turned the ringer off for good measure. He rolled over and stuffed his face resolutely into the pillow.

Beep beep bee-deep beep beep.

“Oh, come on-!” Jason flailed upright again. His phone was lit up, bee-deeping despite the ringer being visibly turned off, and this time vibrating to boot. Jason caught it before it could vibrate right off his nightstand and answered it, drawing breath to give the caller a piece of his mind.

“Jason! You need to get down to the Zeo Crystal right away!”

“…Alpha?” Jason sank down on his bed again, just about remembering to keep his voice hushed. “How did you get my number?”

“Please, your primitive communication systems are no match for my superior-”

“Billy gave it to you, didn’t he.”

A short pause let Jason know that yep, he’d hit the bullseye. “Just head for the Crystal. The others are already on their way.”

“Is it Rita?” Jason groped for his pants blindly in the dark. Magic armor or no magic armor, he wasn’t about to go save the world in his boxers.

Another pause. “…no?”

So that was reassuring.


It was men in suits.

Okay - men and women. And some of them - the ones closest to the Crystal - were wearing radiation suits as they aimed Geiger counters at the pit. But mostly - suits.

“The goverment’s here,” Trini deadpanned under her breath.

They probably should have been expecting this, Jason realized, unease a knot in the pit of his stomach. Giant robot dinosaurs battling a giant gold… thing? Smoking crater where the Krispy Kreme used to be? Yep, that was gonna make the news. Nothing like that thing in New York last year, sure, but attention-grabbing enough. The five of them huddled in the hollow between Shell and Goodwill, stealing peeks around the corner at the orderly swarm of suits every time they shored their courage enough. “Okay,” Jason sighed, mostly to himself, “what do we do about this?”

“Take ‘em out?” Zack’s bright suggestion was met with four censorious glares. “Kidding! Kidding. Geez, guys.”

“We have to talk to them,” Billy put forward. “They have to know not to mess with the Crystal.”

“We can’t exactly walk up to them and go ‘hey, we’re the pilots of those giant robots, can you chill?’” Kimberly leaned against the brick facade, crossing her arms against the cool night. “No telling anyone about This, that was the deal.”

Trini shrugged, eyes down; Billy’s gaze tracked again to the government guys; Zack lost some of his brittle cheer. Jason ran a hand over his face. He still wasn’t sure he trusted Zordon all the way, but on that point, he was pretty sure the weird floating head had the right idea.

“We’ll just have to talk to them with our masks up,” he muttered, and all eyes turned to him, and once again he was kicked into remembering oh, yeah, I’m supposed to be leading this outfit. “…right. Okay, we get out of the area, we morph-” The others nodded; morphing came with a hell of a light show. “We come back, we serve dire warnings. And if anyone asks, we’re aliens or something.”

“That’s the plan?” Zack raised an eyebrow at him.

Jason shrugged. “It’s a work in progress. Come on.”

“I’m not very good at lying,” he heard Billy murmur as they crept away, his voice low with worry.

“We know.” That was Kimberly, sounding both more confident and kinder than Jason felt. “We’ll cover for you.”


“Civilians on the move. Repeat, civilians, plural, on the move.”

At this hour? You had to be crazy or paid to be up at - Sitwell checked his watch - four-thirty-five in the morning. “Toward or away?”

“Away, sir.”

That wasn’t the good sign it sounded like. ‘Away’ meant there was a good chance those civilians-plural had already seen more than they were meant to and were hightailing it out of there before their curiosity landed them in a cell. Well, their instincts were right on at least.

“Stay on them, see where they’re going. Keep me updated,” Sitwell ordered.


Sitwell sighed, lifted a hand to adjust his glasses, cursed when his hand met the hood of his hazmat suit instead. Rather than risk possible radiation poisoning he just endured the sensation of slipping glasses as he paced up to the edge of the crater. As dark as it was, the crystal formation in the bottom of the crater shone like a green beacon.

SHIELD had learned to regard glowing crystals as more than just fodder for odd jewelry in recent years. HYDRA was of a similar mindset.

“And just what do you do,” he muttered, green glinting over his clear facemask. “I wonder.”

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