The saga of public C&C continues...
Dan Root wrote:
Finally, at long last, I've gotten up the courage to actually post
part 1 of this. I'm actively seeking criticism of all forms, and
since I'm uncomfortable with some aspects of it, even complete
flames are welcome.
I shall endeavor to avoid flames...
<snip> (and I shall continue to snip without warning from this point
on.)
Part One: Ascension and Discovery
That in our proper motion we ascend
Up to our native seat: descent and fall
To us is adverse.
John Milton, "Paradise Lost"
***
"DIE, YOU PERVERTED OLD FREAK!"
Ranma chased Happousai into the master's room, trying to recover
his shirt and Akane's underwear. Bouncing off the wall, the pint
sized martial artist aimed himself directly at Ranma's, currently
female, chest. However, after long experience fighting the master,
Ranma anticipated the move, already reversing directions and rolling
backwards. He grabbed the outstretched arms and flung his opponent
upwards. The little freak catapulted towards the ceiling, bounced
badly, and came straight back down. As Happousai fell, Ranma
completed his roll and was ready. When the master dropped past
Ranma's chest, his nominal pupil unloaded a mighty kick, punting
him out the open window and over the fence surrounding the Tendou
dojo.
Ah, for once no property was damaged, no holes in the roof to be
repaired. A novel twist on a staple Ranma 1/2 beginning.
Absorbed in examining the artifact, he missed the return of the
now extremely annoyed Happousai. In fact, the little martial artist
was downright infuriated, not even attempting to glomp Ranma's
still bare and still female chest.
The repetition of 'still' in the last sentence is probably unnecessary.
Ranma tumbled through the air, then hit the ground. Breaking his
momentum in an instinctive fashion, he rolled to absorb the impact.
As he tried to recover from the dual shock of the tome and the
sudden and furious assault by Happousai, he took stock of where he
was. Lying on the ground on his back, he realized.
Now how can he realize this if he hasn't opened his eyes yet?
Opening his
eyes he looked up, receiving his third sanity jarring surprise in
a very short period. Above him stood Akane, his head resting more
or less on her shoes. His eyes traced up the inside of her calf,
across the knee and then on upwards over and past the creamy white
inner thigh. Then his brain froze.
Looking down at her erstwhile fiancee, Akane started to simmer.
After all, she'd just been groped by that freaky pervert Happousai
and had her panties stol....... Ranma. Ground. Skirt. Panties.
Stolen. Pervert. Fiancee. No panties. Ranma on ground.
Slowly grinds the gears of Akane's mind...
Ranma never had a chance. A small trickle of blood from his nose
announced the utter and complete lack of higher cognition. His
eyes were wide and his whole body was stiff as a board.
Akane's battle aura went from simmer to rapid boil in under a tenth
of second. Witnesses would later swear the violet and blue glow
was so bright it blotted out the sun momentarily and wilted flowers
behind glass three blocks away.
"YOU STUPID PERVERT!"
Hmmm... Another fanfiction clich� introduction.
As he walked, Ranma tried to figure out why he was feeling so...
dazed, no... confused, no... aroused, yes that was it. It wasn't
as if he'd never seen Akane nude before, but those incidents were
generally at a distance, or she had been grasping a towel, submerged
in the water, or otherwise partially covered. The look he'd gotten
today was quite a bit closer and a lot more intimate than any
previous. All the insults he used to keep his distance didn't
change the fact that Akane was one fine looking girl, strike that,
woman. And despite his posturing to the contrary, he'd never been
comfortable enough with the curse to explore his female form in
that sort of detail.
Could it be...? Ranma now has... a libido?
As for posturing, most teenage boys won't even admit that they jerk off,
even if they're single-handedly (pardon the pun) keeping companies that
make hand lotions in business. I doubt Ranma would brag about what he's
been doing to himself as a girl to anyone.
The sobbing took over for a minute, until she heard a soft knock
on the door. Kasumi, it had to be. <Just great,> she thought.
"Akane, can I come in?"
She had half a mind to scream 'No, go away' at the top of her lungs,
but she couldn't. Nobody screamed at Kasumi. Ever.
Lo, I see the shadow of Mike Loader looming yonder...
"Please Akane?"
Comma after 'Please,' and any time you are using the direct address of a
character in speech.
Ranma hesitated in front of the door to the house, not sure if he
was ready to face the rest of his 'family', let alone Akane.
I can understand why Ranma is reluctant to see Akane, but why should he
be concerned about anyone else?
Having his normal, if damp, shape back he became aware of one other
comma after 'back'
slight problem he hadn't had to deal with while wearing his female
try '...he didn't have to deal with...' here
body. <If Akane or Mr. Tendou catches me in this state, I'm a
goner, not that I've got a chance to begin with.> With a couple
of deft adjustments the problem was less immediately apparent,
though not gone completely.
What's the matter, Ranma? Pitching a tent?
Ranma heard the door to Akane's room open, and someone came down
the stairs and went into the kitchen, moving lightly but surely.
<That would be Kasumi,> he thought. Several moments passed and no
other movement could be heard in the house, so he slipped out of
the bathroom and crept up the stairs, being careful to avoid the
several squeaky planks. At the top of the stairs he paused, looking
slightly left towards Akane's room, and then down the hall to the
guest room that was his. The carved wooden duck on her door stared
balefully back, full of accusation. The image flashed through his
'stared back balefully'
***
Stepping out of his room, Ranma still felt somewhat weary and a
little more than somewhat uncomfortable. He couldn't seem to get
the thought of what he'd seen earlier out of his mind. Trying not
to think about it only made it worse. Something to distract him
from it, that's what he needed. A little more sure of himself he
comma after 'himself'
Ranma paused outside the master's room, listening carefully for
any signs that he might be inside. Nothing. Carefully sliding
the door open he slipped inside, shutting it behind him as quietly
comma after 'open'
as possible. The tome was still there, lying on the floor next to
the futon, just as it had been earlier. A brief scan of the rest
of the room revealed no surprises waiting. Again he crouched next
to the book without touching it, examining its surface. Finally
he forced himself to reach out.
He stopped just short, letting his hand float just above the surface,
The word 'just' is overused in the sentence. Axe one of them. Preferably
the first one.
unsure if his course of action was the right one. The bound pages
still seemed to call to him, begging to be read, explored, understood.
It was a very unfamiliar sensation to Ranma, who far more understood
the physical things of the world than the academic. But it did
feel right.
Move the 'far more' preceding 'understood,' and put it after the word
'world.' You'll find that the sentence reads better.
Using the momentum from the throw, Ranma leapt to his feet, still
holding the book tightly. Ryouga was already scrambling to his
feet, slightly out of breath from the impact but still very much
comma after 'impact'
This is a well choreographed and executed fight sequence by the way.
"Dammit, fight me Ranma!" The lost boy was getting even more
Again, comma after the 'me,' in a direct address of a character during
speech.
Ranma froze like a deer caught in headlights, landing flat-footed.
The next swing from the enraged Ryouga caught him absolutely flush
on the jaw. He went flying backward, propelled by the force of
the blow, and slammed into the wall surrounding the Tendou property.
His face hurt terribly, but somehow it didn't seem all that important,
nor was the pulsing ache of his back and ribs.
Now how did Ryouga find out? Akane blubbering to P-chan?
"How dare you make Akane cry after she made that food especially
for you!"
Never mind. Now I get it. Ryouga's grudges extend far beyond what mere
mortals deem rational.
Opening the aged tome randomly and leafing through the yellowed
pages, Ranma could make out nothing of importance. The characters
of the writing looked like nothing he'd ever seen before in all
his travels, and most of the diagrams were foreign to any of his
limited schooling. As he flipped through the pages, it became
apparent the book was actually composed of many sections, each in
a slightly different style of writing and drawing, perhaps written
by different people. Two of the chapters seemed to strike him as
more intelligible than the others. The first didn't really make
sense, but the second was apparently a martial arts manual, complete
with stylized drawings of people performing various blocks and
strikes.
And here I thought it was going to be a copy of the Kama Sutra...
Humming softly to himself as he worked, he tried to extend his
plans for his new training program. He'd practiced the Art, and
more recently taught himself, enough to know that trying to
incorporate too much into his fighting style at once would actually
hamper his effectiveness, rather than increase it. Since he'd
gotten to the point where he could beat most of the people around
him consistently he'd had to come up with ways to make the fights
comma after 'consistently'
A quick walk around the base of the tree from varying distances
proved that the combination of leaves, branches, and brown nylon
hid it well, even knowing where to look Ranma had trouble picking
comma after 'look'
Nabiki closed the ledger and slumped back in her seat, allowing
herself a quick moment of relaxation. Her left hand idly massaged
her temple as she thought and she drummed the desktop with her
comma after 'thought'
right in unconscious irritation. Saotome had gone too far this
time, that much was sure. The sight of Akane crying on Kasumi's
lap had given rise to a host of emotions that Nabiki normally kept
locked in chain and buried deep inside in the cool concrete and
'chains'
steel that she presented to the world. Concern, pity, sympathy,
and perhaps worst of all, love. And as much as she'd deny it
publicly, the up and coming businesswoman did care for her family.
Now she had to figure out what to do about the macho jock who seemed
to make upsetting her younger sister his sole goal in life....
Enter Nabiki the vindictive... This is a characterization I don't really
agree with. Nabiki has never shown much family loyalty, and I doubt that
she'd go to any great lengths to get Ranma unless he has done something
to her personally. Just my opinion. I suppose you needed an adversary
somewhere in the story.
began to examine the menu. He looked a moment, decided, and then
changed his mind at the last second and just called out for an
How about 'He looked a moment, decided, and then changed his mind at the
last second to call out for the house special.' As written, your
sentence was a little awkward to read. Do you read your work aloud? I
find this is the best way for me to keep awkward sentences to a minimum.
"Cheer up okyakusama, it can't be all bad." The bowl of ramen slid
under his hands, the wisps of steam warm against his cool skin.
Ranma smiled his thanks at the man barely older than himself and
then returned his contemplation to the food in front of him. He
muttered "itadakemasu" to himself as he broke the chopsticks apart,
While I appreciate the colorful use of Japanese in fanfiction, the fact
that I don't speak the language makes it difficult to appreciate what
you are trying to do with it in this paragraph. This is a personal peeve
of mine, but remember that there are lots of Japanese deficient readers
just like me out there.
When the morsel had cooled just enough he popped it in his mouth,
savoring the taste on his tongue. He sucked the broth off it
carefully, and let the cooked flesh dissolve into shreds before
swallowing it with exaggerated care. The ramen cook beamed as his
customer nodded appreciation of the fare, and then returned to his
work, slicing and chopping vegetables for the next batch of customers.
Ahhh... Visions of "Tampopo" come to mind in this sequence. Have you
seen said film by Juzo Itami?
Ranma watched carefully for a moment, noticing how the rhythm was
different from, yet the same as, the one Kasumi used for preparing
dinner in her kitchen. And just like her, the cook hummed to
himself, keeping time with the flashing knife in a ditty that was
made up on the spot, but as old as the hills.
Sorta like sea-chanties. "He must've been guilty, 're he wouldn't be
here... Port gun, FIRE!"
The contentment and cheer Ranma felt lasted him almost half a block.
He was so happy he almost missed the impending attack, sensing the
danger only at the last possible instant. The leap carried him
high and right, and he touched down nimbly on a convenient wall,
hands still in his pockets. He stuck one foot behind the other
and rotated in place, facing the street he'd just abandon.
'abandoned'
"Shut up Ranma! You don't know..." his voice fairly bled with
emotional angst before Ranma cut him off sharply.
Again, direct address in this speech requires a comma before the name.
I'll stop bringing it up after this, as I think I've made my point.
"...the hell you've seen because of me. Yadda, yadda, Die Ranma,
yadda. If you're gonna fight, fight." As he offered the invitation
Ranma is either Jewish or has been watching to much "Seinfeld." Perhaps
a little of both. (At last, the true reason he disdained the pork ramen
is made clear!)
he stepped off the wall, landing lightly next to it, both hands,
now clenched fists, still in his pockets. Predictably, the lost
boy rushed him, fist cocked straight back. Just as predictably,
Ranma didn't move at all until Ryouga tried to unload the punch,
then bent over sideways, letting the fist rush by and bury itself
'but' instead of 'then'
Several unidentifiable blades, mostly attached to chains, struck
the street where he'd been standing. Mousse landed behind them,
arms already folded back into his robe, ready to strike again. He
looked levelly at Ranma through those impossibly thick lenses.
"I've come to...."
Ranma afforded him no more curtesy than he had Ryouga, "...free
Shampoo from my clutches. Geez, can't you guys at least get some
original dialogue once in a while. I feel like I'm in a bad fighting
game. All I need is for... aw shit."
Nice touch on Ranma's part. :)
"No need for profanity vile sorcerer. I know my presence awes the
likes of you, but you may simply kneel in respect..." Kunou Tatewaki
stood on the other side of the street, waving his bokken in a
vaguely threatening manner.
Decent Kuno-speak here.
Again, you have a well written fight sequence here, but I question the
excuse that drives your intentions in this part of the story. It's
awfully convenient how all his regular enemies showed up in time to
become the victims of Ranma's new technique.
<I suppose I shouldn't leave them here like this.> he thought. He
use a comma after 'this' instead of a period.
Hopping up on the fence again, he jammed
his hands back in his pockets and sauntered away, whistling the
same tuneless melody the ramen cook had been humming as he worked.
A nice touch here, (the whistling, that is.)
Tighter and tighter wound the spring containing the young martial
artist's fury. He crossed the room so quickly she didn't even see
him move. The offending hand was suddenly clenched tightly by the
wrist. Before the pain registered, his face was right in front of
hers, eyes slitted dangerously closed. He hissed, "If you think,
for one minute, that I'd go along with a plan like that...."
Yikes!
Nabiki clamped down on the fiery pain shooting up her arm, and the
fear that suddenly rose in her gut. Trying to maintain her cool
demeanor, she looked straight into Ranma's eyes. "Don't bother
threatening me. My price just went up a ten thousand yen."
Snap. Little bits of the spring went scattering through the glowing
anger in his soul.
Aaaaiiiiieee.... Nabs is about to get a rude surprise, methinks....
Ranma focused all his rage on her, trying to impress the fullness
of his wrath. All he got was that damned cold glare, with the
tiniest hint of pain. "Fuck me, bitch!" he spat. He clamped down
tighter on her arm and then tossed it aside forcefully. Spinning
on his heel he stalked towards the door, pausing to throw another
cutting insult before he left.
'Fuck me'? What about 'Fuck you'?
Rage vanished nearly instantaneously in a whirl of other thoughts,
and the wonderful sensations of those magic hands. Finally it
occurred to him that it was Nabiki throwing herself at him and he
panicked, windmilling his arms, and twisting away from the suddenly
aggressive girl. He whipped around, stammering without words, and
nearly fainted at the sight he encountered. Pure lust boiled in
the eyes that moments before had held only icy contempt.
Okay, I see where you were going with the 'Fuck me' line...
For the second time in several minutes he stared at her, though
this time it was in indecision rather than fury. She bucked her
hips slightly, rubbing her breasts and thighs against his chest
and legs, looking straight up into his eyes, moving forward. Her
eyes fluttered closed and her lips started to puckered as she moved
'pucker'
in for the kill. Once again he panicked, unsure what to do about
her sudden reversal from vicious bitch to playful sex kitten. At
the last second he turned his face away, and her kiss hit his
jawbone.
*smack*
Then it hit him, she was playing with him, trying to embarrass him
the same way he had embarrassed Akane. His anger rose again and
he shoved her back with both hands. "Bitch. What kind of joke is
th...." The threat died on his tongue as he saw her eyes snap
open. Instead of anger or amusement, there was only the raw lust.
Nabiki was a good actor, but not that good, and Ranma could feel
her desire rolling off in palpable waves.
D'oh! I was thinking along the same lines as Ranma, myself.
Finally his hindbrain had had enough of the situation. It was time
for fight or flight, and with that he dived towards her, swerving
at the last second to avoid her clutching grasp. A conveniently
open window offered escape and he accepted, scrambling over her
bed and leaping through it. He hit the ground in the front yard
at a full run, bounced to the wall and then was down the street,
moving in great bounds like a frightened deer. Which, truth be
told, wasn't too inaccurate.
And a million slavering Nabiki fanboys gnash their teeth in despair!
(What do you expect for a 'fic with no lemon tag?)
I thought this was a radical and abrupt change in the personality you
crafted for Nabs earlier. You might consider justifying it a little
better. If it was a test of his loyalty to Akane, then say as much. If
it's just a case of Nabs lusting after him, it needs work, especially if
the only reason you're doing it is to accentuate Ranma's current
confusion regarding human sexuality.
Something tickled the back of his mind, but he couldn't reach it
in time. He thought about Nabiki, and the feel of her body against
his, then shoved the thought away before he could decide he liked
it. The middle sister was extremely good looking in her own way.
A sort of animal magnetism, a guy just instinctively knew she was
more woman than he could handle. She could make him squirm without
ever her needing to say a word, just a slight arch of one of those
delicate eyebrows could convey her contempt, annoyance, curiosity,
or now, lust.
This is a good build up of Ranma's currently muddled sexuality. First we
had the sweet innocent (and very pretty) Kasumi who unknowingly tempts
him, followed by the vibrant in-your-face sexuality of Nabiki in
contrast. He refuses both, but is tormented by his thoughts. What can
Akane bring, and is this why he truly fears an encounter with her? I
guess we shall see.
The something tickled his brain again, and this time he grabbed
it, letting the words play in his head. "Fuck me, you bitch." the
memory of his own voice was somewhat frightening, invoking the
ghost of that incredible rage. "Why, I'm going to Fuck You Ra-n-ma."
Her voice, sultry and erotic, evoked other images, real and imagined.
"Fuck me."
"I'm going to Fuck You."
The desire to impress his anger on her, to make her understand.
"Fuck me."
"Fuck You."
Pushing a bit of himself on her. A bit of himself. His spirit.
His....
His ki.
Pushing his ki at her. Holding her wrist. The words 'Fuck me'
hanging in the air. Turning around and being mauled from behind.
The words 'Fuck You'.
He'd done it. He'd caused the sudden reversal. He'd used the
chyou o sasu on her, but without taking her ki for it. Just his
own. And the words he'd spoken. It hadn't been paralysis of the
body, but of the will.
Ranma sat alone in the tree for a rather long time.
Dun dun DUN!!!!
Dangerous technique, ne?
***
The blame for this whole mess goes to Sean Gaffney and, indirectly,
Lara Bartram. I was pre-reading for Sean's "Complete Control"
(inspired and heavily prodded by Lara) when he took it in a direction
he hadn't intended to. I asked to take it the other direction.
Oh, I also blame Mike Loader, because all fics seem to be his fault
in some fashion or another. ;)
Yeah, I see the faint urgings of Sean Gaffeny's "Complete Control" here.
Aha! I thought I saw the looming shadow of Mr. Loader...
In conclusion:
I good introductory tale for what may prove to be a long series. The new
techniques and their effects are good fodder for stories, but I wonder
at a long term conflict to unify them. Ranma has yet to speak to Akane,
so perhaps we'll see.
Jamie