I never got part 3.
Here's a drat, there's more to put in, and some o fthe talkie scenes
are being revised. as is parts 2 and 3 ^^;
anyway, enjoy!
Finally mor work on this story
<e-mail to kathy@limuxgrrls.org>
That's the second time you've misspelled your own email address.
Reference from header: linuxgrrls.org
previous message: linuxgrls.org
this message: limuxgrrls.org
Death: The Moron and the Maiden
All characters are the copyrighted products of people who aren't me - in this
case, those of the ranmaverse are copyright Rumiko Takahashi, and those of the
world of the dreaming are copyright Neil Gaiman.
Line too long. remember to wrap your lines. for this reply i'm doing it for you.
Chapter Four: A new hope
(gomen - I could *nae* resist! and, well...<twirls foot sheepishly in the
dust> ...it does seem to be a riff these days)
LOL! and the original was SW ep 4 too.
What has come before -
Ranma has died. Far from ending the poor martial artists troubles, his,
or at the time, HER, demise has actually doubled the chaos of his life, and
added a new wrinkle. He's (technically) engaged to a beatiful young-look ing
looking
female goth... who just happens to be the embodyment of death. His mom is mad,
his 'uncute' fiancee has just had a nervous breakdown, and Ryoga has actually
decided to bury the hatchet in something other than Ranma's back.
You can just tell the other shoe is about to drop right?
Thought so.
Heh.
***************
Ranma looked over at his mother carefully, not wanting to break the
fragile peace that prevailed in the Tendo Cha-no-ma(1), ever since the
confrontation of earlier, everyone had been very... polite. It was starting to
st rain at him, this fragile peace was in some ways anathama to him - he far
strain
anathema?
as for his mother: again i missed part 3, in which i assume that she entered
the picture.
preferred a straight out fight to this walking on eggshells.
"far preferred" awkward. not sure if preferred is spelled right either.
In the corner, sipping a cup of tea, Death watched biding her time.
Akane had slipped into a numb calm that reminded her of the time Dream had gone
into his depressive stage, after his imprisonment. Soun had slipped his moors
some time ago, and was currently doing a very good impression of someone who'd
hit the valium and bounced. Genma had retreated to Dr. Tofu's to have the more
distressing of the splinters removed before they festered , Kasumi offering to
go with him, until Nabiki had taken pity on the poor man, and offered to go
instead. Currently the Tendo haus-frau was providing refreshments, since it
allowed her to spend most of her time in the kit chen. Kasumi might have been
festered,
kitchen
Just look for these space errors on your next time going thru this, i can't
point out every single one
sweet, but she wasn't stupid, reflected Ranma. Looking around the room again
his eyes stopped at Akane. Since the katana had been sheathed, her spirit semed
to have been broken. Gradually over the last thirty minutes or so, they had ...
moved apart. Ranma looked at t he distance between them, and thought of the
little bombshell Telute had dropped. Akane had killed him. 'Macho-tomboy...
always getting bent out of shape over the littlest of things...' he thought
sadly. 'Still she really don't look too good right now...' he weighed sympathy,
survival, and the past in his mind, and gloomil y reflected that perhaps he
shouldn't try to confort her right now. If he tried, ether Akane would thump
comfort, either
him, and his mom would kill her, or old man Tendo would rush out for a preacher
to marry them... or worse, she'd ret reat further inside herself. Swallowing
the bile of his helplessness, he returned his attention to his mother.
Nodoka was not having a good evening. her temper was on edge, her son
had been almost killed! she had left him for ten years, but she was determined
to spend the rest of her life near her only child, her pride, a man amo ng men,
and periodically her daughter amongst women. But he had nearly been killed!
Correction, Nodoka: he has been killed. he's just hanging around right now.
Watching him closely she watched him look at the girl she had once thought of
as being almost a daughter to her, and saw his jaw tense, h is whole demeanour
show a distress at her... then his eyes met hers.
"I have an announcement to make," began Nodoka. "Since Tendo Akane has
killed her iinzuke, I can only conclude that they are not a suitable match. As
you said "nearly" earlier.
the matriarch of the Saotome clan, I therefore declare the engagement at an
end. Do any here dispute my judement in this matter?" she concluded, her hand
resting lightly on her katana to emphasise the seriousness of her point. So to
speak. 'And without my husband here to complicate matters, we may actually
resolve matters!' she crowed silently to herself, even as her eyes coldly swept
the room.
Kasumi returning with fresh tea, stopped in the doorway, a look of
profound shock on her face. Soun snapped into life, the words acting as a
bucket of water to his bruised soul. "You cannot break this engagement - it is
for family honor! They are to bring our two -" "Schools together,unite our two
missing space on "together, unite"
houses, provide infinate rice pudding, I know... " Finished Nodoka, pursing her
lips thinly. "Do you really think your honor is worth more than the life of my
son? Akane has repeatedly ass aulted him, regularly insults him, and is
incapable of getting along... do you really think they should be together? It
is only by luck that I don't have your daughter arrested on charges of murder
and grevious bodily har m, so I say again, is your honor worth this? *Is it?!*"
she hissed quietly, yet with understated force. Souns face paled, his mouth
working soundlesly.
Akane had retreated beyond with the accusations each striking home with
sickening force, like lacerations to her fragile heart. She fled the room
sobbing, Kasumi following quickly after, while Ranma watched with disbelie f at
the events that he had sometimes wished for, but never really wanted.
"I'd say that no-one objects then," interjected Death wryly. She felt
for the poor child, but she had to agree with the words of the mother in front
of her. The match really wasn't the best.
"In that case I am leaving," announced Nodoka, picking up her blade,
and turning to leave. "When my husband returns tell him I shall be waiting for
him at our house." With a measured tread she began to leave, only to sto p as
Soun at last regained the power of speach.
"Then Nabki shall marry Ranma!" *Why me?* thought Ranma rhetorically.
"Why am I not surprised," murmered Death. Nodoka paused, inclined her head
noncommittally, then left. Ranma performed a textbook facefault, even as Soun
began to cheer, his dreams saved.
heh. yeah right soun.... he's DEAD, remember?
by the way, i don't think they learn to facefault from a book... it's something
they're born with.
****
Far out in planes not accessable by normal mortals, beyond even those
realms where the mages travelled and tested themselves, beyond even the ken of
the Endless, something was shifting. The end of an era had come, someho w
avoiding notice by any. Dream had pased beyond, a new aspect rising to face the
changes, but others were affected.
Far beyond the senses of the child-avatar Delirium, in the heart of her
realm, where she would never think to look, the smeared colors and deranged
imagry of the realm was beginning to coalesce into a small chair. The wo od was
higly polished, and the arms elaborately carved. It oozed a sense of permanence
and reality that was quite at odds with the area around... until slowly the
feild of normality spread outwards towards the furthest re aches. It progressed
in fits and starts, and frequently passed thought dimensions that made
three-dimensional topography go away and have a quiet cry at its favourite bar.
favorite unless you're using the british/canadian/australian/any other sane
variant of english spellings.
In short, by the time Nodoka left the Tendo household, a small parlour
room had reformed from the chaotic ether of Delirum's realm.
Far away in other realms, Destiny was using words that would have
turned the air blue and struck a mortal dead with their sheer power. He
couldn't find his clean socks, and it was begining to REALLY get to him.
Despair walked the grey halls of her domain, feeling nothing, seeing
all, doing her job as she had for countless millenia. Looking up she regarded
one mirror with dull incuriosity. Walking around it, she paused to consid er
it, idly scratching at her face, tearing her cheek with her sigil ring, a band
of plain sliver with a vicious barb where another ring would place a precious
stone.
The mirror was in some way wrong. It had been a grey framed oblong when
last she had observed the young banker face redundancy in a company
re-organisation. It was now a grey framed oval, reflecting more than it had
prev iously.
and the difference between an oblong and an oval is....?
Despair watched it carefully. It was her task. Blood that dripped
softly down her face and torso fed the rats that followed her through her home.
Watching the tragedy as it played out for an audience of one, the mists hi d
all as the viewpoint receaded beyond the silent somberness that was the
customary mein of Despair's desmene.
mein? desmene? assuming these are spelled right i need a dictionary.
Retracting further, the viewpoint became a human. or at least a human
shape. It was the temple of Desire, always near to its twin. Desire noted
nothing. It was doing its best Columbia impression, down to the micky mouse
ears and striped pyjamas as it watched the events occuring in the small ward of
Nerima, laughing softly. This was going far better than it had hoped.
And elsewhere, in a realm that none claimed to rule, a centuaries old
centuries-old
spell began to activate for no reason. In all the time the spell had been
active, it had only functioned once. This might have been the warning for th e
events about to take place, be they tragedy or farce. At this point not even
Destiny knew. A small light began to flash on a high tech 'high chair'.
Unattended, and unseen, without a cancel order, the spell triggered a defensive
function. Then the blinking light ceased, the shadows in the main chamber of
the Realm of Destruction, rusheing back. Dust settled. Nothing changed, and
nothing would change here till one who was its master retu rned.
If ever he did.
*******
Death was having a fablous time. She had been bored, feling stuck in a
fabulous. also, below, i don't think "million billion" is a real term.
rut of a million billion years... Yet this Ranma had managed to escape his
fate, break her depression, AND make her laugh. She admitted to herself sh e
liked him, even if there was no way in hades she cou-would marry him... And
even if she had wanted to, she couldn't, but even if she had she wasn't
entirely sure that the revalation she had to make to him would really e ndear
her to him. Still she hoped they could be friends - Death actually *liked*
people, an odd side effect of the job, one couldn't take them, without
experiencing a measure of empathy, even liking for them. In all ways that
counted, Death was the only member of the endless who *knew* what made mortals
tick.
That empathy was telling her to take this slowly right now. Picking up
Ranma, she placed him right side up on the futon that Genma had laid his sore
seat on, patting him on the shoulder in a companionable fasion... And l evering
his jaw from the floor. Evidently the poor boy was worried about Nabiki...
Sighing she left quietly, and moved upstairs. Right now there was
someone in FAR more need of a sympathetic ear.
***
Akane Tendo was in hell. Had she truly entered that realm, the demons
and imps would have left her, deaming more torment to be an unjust cruelty. Of
course that appealed to some... and even they would have left Akane to her
private torment.
Lying on her bed, weaping bitter tears, sobs barely muffled by her
pillow and residual self control, Akane stared in horror at the sight of
herself, painted in technicolor by Nodoka's biter diatribe. She viewed herself
i n theharsh light of the accusations, and recoiled. She was a cruel person,
vicious and mean-spirited, caring only of herself and her possesions. She was
jealous, bigoted and deserved all the scorn that people heaped on he r - after
all, wasnt she violent, ugly, unable to cook, prone to blind over-reaction, she
was everything that her mother would have hated!
overreaction.
And look at Ranma - he was always condescending to her, and she'd
always resented it, but now she knew differently... She was a burden to him,
and if she could have been something more... well she'd blown that, with her
determination that she should be his equal in the art, and that he should treat
her in the manner in which she felt she should have been treated... Yet he was
RIGHT!
She COULDN'T cook - she'd hurt him and everyone else so badly with her
food over the years... and a bland almost curry was no sort of dish to live on.
As for the art - he had every right to be arrogant and cocky - he was Ranma,
and he really was several classes out of her and everyone elses league....
But there was one thing that kept running through her head that she
couldn't deal with. Killing him. The other thoughts had been there for years,
and in part her mindless violence towards Ranma was a way of making the th
oughts shut up. But this time she'd killed the unkillable. She'd murdered the
one person who would do anything for her (except eat her cooking) to make her
happy...
Akane spiralled deeper and deeper down a spiral of self-loathing and
Despair, barely hearing when the diffident knock at the door progressed to a
more forceful rap, scarcely even noticing when her eldest sister sat besid e
her on the bed, patting her on the back, telling her to let it all out.
"L -let it all out?" snuffled Akane throught the tears, "I
alwa<sniffle> - always l-let it out on Ranma! And now he hates me! And what's
worse, he's right to hate me! I HATE ME Kasumi-oneechan!"
Kasumi was, needless to say, startled. Holding the bitterly crying form
of her sister against her, she began to whisper to her, praying that she could
help. "Akane, Ranma doesn't hate you, we don't hate you - we love you
imoutochan, please believe me..."
Kasumi held on for dear life - sensing the hurt Akane would take if she
wasn't convinced that SOMEBODY still loved her, even (especially?) now. Akane,
however receptive to Kasumi's words was however becoming even more hu rt by the
thought that she'd upset her sister, and resentful of her - she'd be okay, she
didn't need anyone! he could deal with her own problems thankyou very much. All
she wanted to do was get away and continue her self abuse session - in a funny
sort of way it made her feel better.
Of course none of this showed on her face, tears merely contined to
roll down her cheeks to be absorbed by the sodden material of Kasumi's blouse.
Death poked a diffident head around the open door. Looking at Kasumi in
"diffident"? again, assuming correct spelling, i would need a dictionary.
preference to the back of Akane's head, she gestured a wish to help comfort the
crying girl... to which Kasumi replied with a slight gesture conveyi ng that
now was not a good time, the gesture was appreciated, and maybe later would be
good.
*waves indicating that there's too much gesturing*
sorry... old joke in alt.fan.douglas.adams and #afda on slashnet.org
Death left, feeling very defeated. Still she DID have another task. She
still had to tell Ranma that was possible that he was, strictly speaking, no
longer entirely human.
eh? a DEAD human, maybe, but he's still human, isn't he?
Of course, in that familly it might not be as hard as she had imagined.
family
Perking up, Death turned and walked back to the living room in a slightly
better humor than she had left it.
you used "behaviour" earlier and are not using "humour" now. be consistent.
***
Nabiki was in a foul temper. Having had the humiliation of leading a
sore panda to the doctor's was bad enough - and just for once she actually
agreed with Ranma about old Mrs. Tezuka - she really was a demon with that w
ash ladle. She also believed in Quantity over Accuracy, hence Nabiki herself
was also wet, and highly steamed.
Having left Genma at Doctor Tofu's practise, with the message that the
doctor himself would drop Genma home, she had left. Left to her own company,
her mind had started to construct bizzare mentle scenarios in which eith er
Ranma or her Sister said something wrong and her home became a bloodbath. Her
pace, which never really dropped below brisk, gradually accellerated to a
graceful walking charge, urged on by her worry and her irritation at not being
there to help control any of the million and two potential faux-paus that her
familly was capable of making.
family again
Had she known about the clanger awaiting her, Nabiki would have chosen
a bloodbath in a heartbeat. Sadly she didn't. Nor did she notice the small
black pig building a campfire, nor did she notice it change into a handsom e
young martial artist. A handsome young NAKED martial artist. Palms itching,
nose twitching, wallet throbbing, Nabiki hurried home praying it would still be
there when she arived...
*** Ranma sat and watched the walls with the fatalistic certainty that he'd
only be seeing them for a short while longer. As much as he knew Nabiki had
slipped him a subtle helping hand, and even used his curse to their join t
advantage, he couldn't see them being happily married. They were too dissimilar
ever to survive together.
More accurately, what he actually thought was; "Nabs is okay, but there
is no way in hell I'm gonna marry her - she'd kill me!"
heh. well, one of his fiancees already killed him, what's another?
The door to the living room opened and Death walked into the room.
Ranma turned to flee, he just couldn't cope. He also couldn't pass Soun's Demon
Head Attack. Sitting down grumpily he poured a fresh cup of tea for Death .
i'm confused... did soun do the demon head just now because of him running away?
After all, it was the polite thing to do, and at heart, Ranma really did try to
do his best for people. Not always what other people thought was best, but
then, he was trying. Very trying. People would forgive a lot if he tried, Ukyo,
Shampoo...
Death accepted the cup with delighted gratitude (few people, even those
poor souls commiting suicide, were kind enough to give her tea), a smile, and a
small bow. Returning the bow clumsily, Ranma asked the first thing t hat came
to mind. "So how's Akane?" He looked at the slightly deflated look on her face
and for once actually came to the right conclusion. "Oh," he said
intelligently.
"I'm sure she'll be fine," Death replied at last, "but right now, I'm
probably not the person she wants to see..." She frowned, then brightened
slightly. "Still that's all to the good - I STILL need to talk to you about
what happened."
Ranma winced. She'd reassured him that she wasn't going to take him
unless he was dead, but somehow, sitting opposite her, about to have a serious
talk, well, he started to worry a little. A very little. "So .... What di d you
want to say, huh?"
"Well, it's about your situation - it's kind of of unique." she looked
at him, then clarified. "It's never happened before in the entire history of
the universe, and that's a long time, so I'm not entirely certain whats going
to happen next... There have been odd circumstances before. For instance, my
nephew Orpheus gave up my care so he could rescue his wife from the
underworld... It didn't go so well, and after he failed he was torn to pieces
shortly afterwards. I couldn't go to him, and he spent over two thousand years
as a disembodied head...."
yikes..... tough odds to go up against, even for ranma.
nephew??
Ranma swallowed hard.
"He did die eventually - buut I couldn't take him, he had to ask my
but
brother Dream to take him... Which lead to my brothers death," she aded in a
pained undertone, looking at the floor. It had not been one of the highligh ts
of her career. "If I'd been thinking I would NEVER have agreed to letting him
go to the underworld. It hurt the whole family"
Ranma reached over and hesistantly touched her hand, as if he was
afraid she'd bite him. "I don't think it was your fault," he hesistantly began,
"I mean, could ya have known what woulda happened?"
Death shook her head mutely.
"Well, don't blame yourself for it... it was an mistake right? evryone
makes mistakes... heh, look at me! I make em all a' the time!" he finished with
a self-depreciating smile. Death looked up at him and smiled.
"Thankyou... Anyway, thats not important right now." She Gathered her
thoughts briefly before continuing. "There was nother person who I interfered
another
with - His name was Hob - he decided that you didn't have to die if you didn't
want to... So Dream and I decided to let him live for as long as he wanted to -
I will come for him one day, but he has to ask me, rather than just me turning
up when he dies... and he's expeireinced things that sh ould have killed him a
Experienced
great many times. I think he lives in Great Britain these days...
Arthur Dent?
heh. i wonder if she's friends with Agrajag..... maybe she should start a
frequent die-er program just for him.
"But you - now you're different again. Orpheus I couldn't come for,
Hob, I'll come when he's ready, but you? I came for you and didn't collect you,
heck I even saved your life... so I'm not too certain what happens next. I
might find myself collecting you next time you get yourself killed... but you
will probably find yourself undying unless you want to, it really is
confusing...."
Ranma latched on to the part of this he understood. "So I probably
won't die unless I want to?" Death nodded. "But I don't want to be just a head
for the rest of my life!" he started to panic.
LOL!
"No! That won't happen," laughed Death, "That was an accident - Orpheus
managed to have his body eaten when he stopped caring about life... it isn't
part of the deal..." She smiled then cocked her head. "There is another option
of course - every other jusenkyoite I've ever taken has been in their uncursed
body... so it may be that you can only die when you're male..." She pondered
this.
jusenkyoite? at least hyphenate it as jusenkyo-ite or use two words like
"jusenkyo victim"
Please promise that you won't make this a ranma-is-stuck-as-a-girl-fic please.
"If it's all the same lady, I'd rather not test that out..." winced
Ranma, his only answer peals of silvery laughter from his companion.
***
The realm of Destruction is chaotic, and dangerous to travel, and many
of its inhabitants have, without guidence, become less than savoury. There was
one who scared even they. Deep in the bowels of the realm lived an ava tar
feared and despised by all. Genocide.
Destruction himself had seen the need for him, but had not been willing
to grant him ny form of free rein while he wasn't there to keep him in check.
Instead he sealed him into the bedrock of the realm, only able to touc h the
mortal world briefly and for short periods of time. However, recently the seals
that bound him, the last remnant's of Destructions full power had been failing.
He'd been fre to touch the world far more regularly tha n he had evenwhen under
destructions direction. A surge of power exploded from the six outermost of the
seven cylindrical seals. The Seventh cracked sharply along one edge, the burst
of power disapating harmlessly away fr om the others.
The six seals flashed, a path of power lancing between them. The
central seal remained dark, failing to ward the others. The lines of fire
stabilised into a six pointed star, and attempted to contain the power flailing
m adly at them, but couldn't restrain the power as the had before.
A hand clawed up from the ground, pushing the central seal aside. The
hand itself was startlingly clean, pure white, covered in pewter rings with
jewel eyed skulls. In some places flesh still clung to the bone of the shr
unken heads. Pulling itself further up the arms revealed well muscled arms, a
white shirt, and male form.
Genocide stood up. In his form there were the images - flickering
remnants of evils gone by, evils yet to be evil that even now swept the world.
He flickered for a moment, the robes of a clansman morphing briefly into th e
klansman
leathers of a neo nazi youth, switching to the darkly chilling leathers of a
neo-nazi
gestapo officer. No, far too clich� he decided. He eventually settled on a form
that had semed to work most recently. His face briefly shimmer ed, until he was
almost everyman, the very picture of the human who had finlly been bred out of
finally
race. His skin became a pale coffee colour, his nose broad and well defined,
his eyes slightly almond shaped.... in short, yo u looked for a racial marker
it was there, somewhere.
He gestured, and his clothes setled down to a clean urban fighters
fatugues, deeply pocketed combat trousers, camouflage mottled t-shirt, a dark
green bodywarmer lined with kevlar, and a leather beret. He'd probably chan ge
it later... but there was something missing...
With a snap of his fingers a swastika appeared in miniature over his
heart and in bass relief over his back. Looking over himself he nodded calmly.
"Hmmmph. Seems that the boss has finally gone. 'Bout damn time... "
His eyes swept the desolate and forbidding realm around him. He smiled
nastily.
"Tough for him. I think I'll take it." With a good natured laugh that
sent chills up the backs of the few denizens close enough to hear he vanished
towards the centre of the realm. It was about time that someone showed t he
worlds what true destruction was...
Behind him the displaced seventh seal burst back into brilliant life,
the crack sealing as if it had never been. Sadly, Genocide was long gone.
However, something still pulsed in the glowing hexagram....
what....?
***
Far away, unseen by it's owner, who's was busy playing a set, in a tied
'kercheif, what appeared to be a small letter opener corroded, then
don't have a reference, but "kercheif" seems misspelled.
disintegrated. This wouldn't be noticed by the owner for a while. When he did
it would be far too late.
***
Nabiki was really starting to regret inheriting the familial braincell.
Apparently there was literally just the one to go around - at least that was
the only reason she could think of for her fathers latest brain fart.
"NO! I am not gonna marry him dad!" she grated out, ignoring the flood
of tears that sprang from her father. "He's cute, he's a good friend when the
chips are down, and he's got more fruitloops after him than a horse has flies!"
She paused and thought, "Besides, I don't date dead men."
"But you must do this for the family honour!" Soun wailed back, his
spine being slightly firmer than a marshmallow, he'd decided to use the old
crutches that had worked so well on Akane to prop himself against the coming
onslaught. Sadly for Soun, Nabiki knew that the best way to get rid of a crutch
was to kick it out from underneath the weilder.
wielder
"You don't get me like that. If family honour was involved like that,
then you'd be taking the family sword out and serving as second to my sister
the gorilla, you can't have it both ways. And just what the hell do you e xpect
me to do next time Shampoo comes calling? I have as much chance of surving that
as you do to standing up to Happosai!" Soun paled and made shushing motions,
looking frantically around till he was sure that his perve rted master was
nowhere near.
"But Saotome and I made this deal to secure the legacy of our schools!
we -"
"- Should have thought about that before you drove Akane round the
twist. If you hadn't crammed this damn engagement down her throat, she'd
probably have gone for it . Really it isn't like he's THAT bad a catch, but no
D addy, you *had* to force it, and push it, and thrust it upon her until she
lashed out at someone..." Nabiki crossed her fingers and hoped that her father
would forget that she had helped force the arrangement on her siste r in the
first place. For once luck was with her. Soun had fainted.
"Oh grow a backbone dad..." murmered Nabiki in disgust and went looking
for Ranma.
****
We now interupt this Fanfic for tales of the tamperer!
Desire was bored. Not ennui 'let something fatal happen to break this
boredom and misery' bored, but merely 'it's friday night and there's nothing on
telly' bored. Being the mid 19th centuary, the concept of home deliver ed pizza
hadn't been developed yet, so if you wanted to eat without cooking you needed
servants (it was Cupids day off and Eros was on a job), or you needed to go
out.
By some not terribly bizare twist of fate, one exquisitly manicured
finger had stopped the spinning globe on Japan, so Desire was here, cruising
for munchies. And entertainent. Such as the robbery gone wrong at a nearby
yattai[2]. A young husband and wife team had been menaced by a group of local
youngbloods, who in accordance with local assuptions on the value of women had
decided that the threat was the husband.
Shortly after being beaten around the head with a bakers peel, and
chased off by thrown crockery the group revised it's long held opinions, and
decided that menacing single males would be better for their health. Then th ey
ran into a Hibiki. But that's another story. In this one Desire decided that
this looked like a good place to get some food - the okonomiyaki that had
hurtled past her ear in pursuit of the would be gang had been cooke d just
right, the toppings were appropriate, and the entertainment was free!
Desire looked at a internal mental construct dealing with the supply of
energy its siblings had given it. This had nothing to do with its plan to get
its Sister a date... it merely promised to be diverting. Plus Desire c uld fel
the... well desire that burned in the woman cooking the food. The desire to
whomp thugs again, the desire to jump her husband's bones, the desire to be so
big and tough that she wouldn't have to worry about little groups of theives
like the one fleeing...
Desire smirked, it was ostentatious, pointless and going to be a *lot*
of fun. It left with a small satchel of food under one arm, a dented spatula
recovered from a wall, and something to watch for the next fourty or so years.
All in all, Desire would miss these days when the telephone pizza came into
it's own.
As Desire faded from this plane of reality, behind it a rather suprised
young man was pinned to the floor underneath his wife. Desire had been very
helpful to her - in addition to to fragments of the Destruction power it had
left chaotic fragments of Delirum's power... plus a smattering of it's own
spirit, along with a couple of instructions that the authors of the Kama Sutra
had felt too embarrassed to actually write down.
Somehow, Ranma would have felt right at home in the life Kuonji Shigeru
would have.
*we now restore you to your regularly scheduled tale of wackiness and insanity
- coverage of parliament in session!
LOL!
****
Ranma was scared. He'd survived the NekoKen, he'd failed to go insane
when faced by demi-divinities, superpowered perverts, and ancient practioners
of Grandma-fu (a technique devised by the Amazons, perfected by Cologne, and
not revealed to ANYONE not female and at least 100 years old).
heh that's funny.
But he never could stop the desire to chew his own legs off when faced
by an angry young fiancee.
"So... what are you going to do this time Saotome?!" Demanded an
infuriated Nabiki to the puddle at her feet. "I absolutly refuse to be forced
to marry an undead person just because Daddy wants to honour that silly pledg
e!"
lol. he's DEAD, not undead. he's just still here because of a paperwork problem
or something.
Konatsu, pasing outside the fence of the dojo paused in shock. He'd
been on his way to use the local laundromat and had to pas this way. However
this was marginally more important than making sure he had a clean skirt fo r
work tomorrow. Hastily stashing his clothes in a handy tree, he vanished into
the cover. Mistress Ukyo was NOT going to like this. Still it was good for
him...
Nabiki looked down at the panic stricken Ranma and sighed. Taking this
out on him was hardly likely to help, and had been one of the things she'd
always believed Akane had been doing wrong. Blowing out a breath of pure e
xasperation she focused herself back towards the problem.
what's the chemical formula for exasperation?
"Oh, don't panic Ranma.You're quite a nice guy, but I will go live in a
monastary before I let Daddy push me around like that." She sat down, her back
monastery
incidentally those are typically male-only.
against the wall of the perimeter fencing, patting the space next to her in a
friendly manner.
"I don't bite, come on, sit," she invited him. Ranma, still frazzled by
the realisation he WASN'T going to find himself beaten to a bloody pulp took
the proffered place.
and there again with the british/etc spellings! stick with something!
"I'm not undead you know," he put in hesitantly. "Teleute explained it
Telute, wasn't it?
a bit... I'm posibly immortal, at least in my Cursed body. But I'll probably
die when i get old, just like anyone else. It was just lucky that Telute didn't
recognise 'Ranko' that saved me. And I never actually died. I was just, y'know,
suposed to."
Nabiki considered this. "Yeah, I guess you're right...." She chuckled.
"I'm still not going to marry you just because our parents want us too." Ranma
nodded vigorously, causing Nabiki to break out in peals of laughter. " I'd get
stomped by Shampoo for a start!" She kept chuckling, even as Ranma started to
think.
"Um, if she did, I'd stop her... anyway it ain't like she's got no
claim no more - 'till death us do part' an all that stuff"" he finished firmly.
Nabiki paused her eyes widening appreciatively.
"Uh, what did I say?" he continued in a worried voice as Nabiki's eyes
glazed before sharpening with a nearly audible 'plink!'
"Till death us do part... Saotome, you're a genius!" she laughed. "Oh
who would have thought it!" Ranma looked baffled and slightly worried. "Don't
you get it - you're supposed to be dead! That means that all the arrange ments
are OFF! No more Shampoo, no more having to eat my sisters cooking! no more
having to wory about Ukyo and that bakers peel of hers! AND I DON'T HAVE TO
MARRY YOU!" She lept to her feet, and drawing forth victory fan s, began
dancing on the spot.
"Um, Nabiki?" Asked Ranma.
"Don't you get it Saotome? You aren't enganged anymore! no more messes
with fiancees left right and center!"
This time Ranma understood, and swiftly joined in the victory dance.
heh. a little slow on the uptake, huh?
Nabiki paused for a moment, and pulled Ranma close to her so she could
whisper in his ear. "By the way, lets not mention the 'didn't really die' part
okay?" Ranma nodded.
Nabiki grinned internally - she didn't have to marry him, he was clear
of all his other fiancee entaglments, and Akane would probably get along with
him a lot better without the presure of the engaement. All in all a ver y good
days work. She chuckled to herself 'And to think it was Ranma who thought up
the way out!'
Privatly she reassessed him. She wouldn't marry him, and she wouldn't
date him, but perhaps it was time to *really* be friends with him.
Death, watching out of the window,smiled to herself. It was nice to see
happy people, she didn't do enough of it.
Missing space after comma again.
Akane, temporarily over her crying jag looked out of the window and saw
her EX-fiancee happily playing with her mercenary sister, a look of pure
happiness that she had rarely seen on him lihting up his face. He was so mu ch
lighting
happier without her, and if he could smile like that with a mercenary like his
sister, but couldn't around her...
She returned to her bed, sore eyes beginning a new crying spell.
damn. f***ed up again,huh?
notes
(1) Ch-no-ma - the tea room, the Japanese equivalent of a living room or
spelled cha-no-ma earlier.
lounge, so called because this is where tea is most often drunk. To my critics
all I can say is - when I found this little snippet in the anime guide I found
it interesting... perhaps you may too<smiles>
[2] Yattai - think small mobile caravan. think of those little mobile burger
yatai (sorry for not catching this earlier) and any ranma fan knows what one is.
caravans you see at Sunday markets, public spectacles, and highway pulling in
places. Now add seats to the main structure (usually 4), a small privacy screen
between the customers back and the rest of the world, GOOD food, and an
attention to aesthetics as well as practicality. A well run yatai is equivalent
to a small mobile restaurant. With a clientelle who'll travel to get to it if
it moves. They also come in major city and local neighbourhood versions, but
both share the same design principle. Now try to imagine just what poor Ucchan
felt when Genma stole her fathers...
Your brackets on these are inconsistent
End part 4
Teaser for part 5
Cologne and Ranma rounded the corner and began the approach to the
Tendo home. Suddenly for reasons neither of them could adequately explain, they
leapt to the side and went flat against the ground. Then, with a noise like the
death of worlds, the Tendo's house became an expanding fireball in front of
them. Debris scythe through nearby houses with smoke shooting over a hundred
feet into the air, as the initial fireburst rolled into the air and died back
to a fierce firepit, greedily consuming all that was left.
Ranma and Cologne looked at the burning ruins in horror.
"No...." whispered Ranma, unable to comprehend. "NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!"
huh?
<email to Kathy@linuxgrls.org>
screwed up email spelling
Ryoko I need a hero! Mail Eternal Power, MAKE UP!
heh. what's this mean anyway?