Subject: [FFML] [Revengefic]An Unexpected Revenge
From: Outlawone1@aol.com
Date: 9/14/2000, 2:56 PM
To: FFML@fanfic.com

Disclaimer:  I didn't invent Ranma 1/2.  I wish I was that creative but I'm 
not, all the credit goes to Takahashi Rumiko-sama.


Warning:  Moderate amounts of bad language.  Severe amounts of bad writing.




And now for our feature presentation.



Outlaw 1 presents:



An Unexpected Revenge



Yep it's another revengefic.  Hey I like them and I wanna write one.  This is 
not just mental sadomasochism it is also meant as a bit of inspiration to the 
loyal members of the Fred Defense Force, take heart you are not forgotten.  
By the way when is the next chapter of the Revenge Wars coming out?  




Okay starting for real this time.











With a few sputters the engine dies on my bike as I remove the key from the 
ignition.  I gratefully remove the helmet matting down my shoulder length 
ponytail from my head as I stretch out my 6'-1" extra lanky frame. Putting 
the "lid" aside I reach down to the garage door opener on my hip to shut the 
door and then hang it from the handle bars. 

"Oh man I cannot fucking believe I have to wake up at 11 am just for a stupid 
math class."  I say mutter under my breath as I swing my tired body off Baby, 
my '74 Harley Davidson SS 350.  

'Ahh Joel is done with yet another thrilling day of college education and it 
is now time for Outlaw 1 to check his e-mail,' runs through my head as I plod 
few steps from my little sled into the bedroom that was built for me by 
cutting the garage in half.  (Don't tell the building inspector alright?)  
But first I stop to dump my book bag and to drink some water from the bottle 
in the mini-fridge beside my dresser.  Putting the only partially depleted 
bottle back I head through garage to the family room where the computer lives.


Just as I *finally* get connected to AOL I hear a noise and look to my left.  
My stubbled jaw drops to my chest as in through the door that leads to my 
back yard steps a figure that I have seen many times on television but 
thought never to see in person.  Ryoga stepped confidently into the room and 
shot me an angry glare. I know it was an angry one because he was glowing 
blue.


Of course there were some differences between the version standing before me 
and the Ryoga  I know (and despise) from Ranma 1/2.  First he wasn't a 
cartoon that couldn't hurt me, he was full 3d live action human, standing in 
my family room growling and clutching a cask that I just knew contained water 
from the spring-of-drowned-something-or-other.  Then there was the ugly 
medallion hanging from around his neck (no it wasn't the one from Chris 
Wilmore's Ranma 2096).  There were a few inconsistencies to his body as well. 
 Such as a distinct impression that his muscle tone was loosening and that 
his features were softening getting almost feminine.

Looking him and down I can tell this is not Takahashi's Ryoga.  This is my 
Ryoga, the....one...that...visited...the...veterenarian.....OH SHIT!!  

Having some martial arts training myself I immediately went through the list 
of Aikido techniques I knew that I could use to win against the Juggernaut 
standing before me.  Of course I only got to Nikyo before I realized I have 
nowhere near the skill in the art necessary to win against a "Nerima class" 
martial artist.  

So I did the only thing I could think of that might work:  Pointing over 
Ryoga's shoulder and asking "Hey isn't that Akari?"  I took to my heels and 
ran like a bitch.  I got two steps before he caught me by the right arm and 
spun me around to lift me up by my shirt while maintaining that bonecrushing 
grip on my right arm.

My mind is going into full over drive as he drags me close to him and starts 
yelling at me.  Even though I am sure it is English I can't understand a 
single word over the pounding of my heart.  My eyes are locked to his as I 
smell his fetid breath.  

As the panic surges against my mind I make the only decision I can make under 
the circumstances.  Survive, at all costs survive.

As Pig-boy starts to get revved up I slide my pocket knife out of my thigh 
pocket.  It's a Spyderco Police model with a 4 1/2 inch blade.  As the knife 
locks into place I come up with a plan.  Maybe I won't have to kill him after 
all, with just a little luck I can get away.

My hand moves faster than ever before in my life as I slash him from one side 
of the forehead to the other.  He releases he as staunch the flow of blood 
falling into his eyes, blinding him.

Dropping the knife I hit the ground running.  It is time to get out of here.

As I make a left into the living room I take the time grab car keys off a set 
of antique drawers,  
while yelling at my Mom to call 911.  As I bolt through garage door I can't 
believe what is happening to me.  But then again it is hard not to believe in 
living animates when hearing the words: "Joel prepare to die!" ringing 
through my house in a slightly high pitched version of pig boy's voice.

Navigating my way through the obstacle course that was formerly known to me 
as the garage I bang my hip the weight bar resting on it's bench.  Normally I 
would stop and curse at the pain but right now there are other things on my 
mind, I'll bitch about it later.  A tight smile graces my lips as I reach 
door to my room as I hear Ryoga get lost in the kitchen.

I slam the door behind me as I enter my room.  I know that I only have 
seconds to grab two "special items" that might just let me survive this.  
'Wish I had a machine gun'  I think as my eyes drift longingly to the closet 
wherein resides my demilitarized Japanese copy of a German MP-40, circa WW2.  
'Oh well these will just have to do'  Just as I open the side door to get out 
of the house my ears detect the delicate sound of the interior garage door 
being kicked in.  'Gotta go faster, much faster'

Stumbling around the corner of the house I see salvation,  in the big ugly 
red beautiful form of my mom's car.  Sure this Hairy biker prefers to throw 
his leg over a Harley that was built before he was born, but when it comes to 
a fight with a guy like Ryoga I want as much solid matter between me and his 
Shi Shi houkoudan as I can get.

I Slide across the hood of my mom's Saturn in classic Dukes of Hazard 
fashion.  Amazing how    that doesn't seem stupid when you have a raging 
psychopath on your tail.

As I am fumbling with door lock I hear Ryoga's voice again:  "Bakusai 
Tenketsu!"       Shrapnel tears it's way into me causing major injuries.  I 
feel pain in my gut and chest, the distinctive gurgling tells me I have a 
hole in one or both of my lungs.  I Feel a chill go through me as I watch 
Ryoga's shape revealed in the dissipating smoke.  "Oh yeah he is pissed" I 
say to no one in particular.  My mind goes into over drive as I scramble to 
find a way to survive.  Gratefully I realize I didn't drop the water bottle.  
Working feverishly I unscrew cap and pull back my right arm to hurl as I 
watch my enemies hand pull  a bandanna from his in slow motion.               
 

I can tell his attention is focused on the water bottle, tunnel vision it 
just might save my life.  The pistol bucks in my left hand and I can see a 
blossom of red on his shoulder.  Then there is an impact on my head and half 
my peripheral vision goes dark as a cold liquid flows down my face.  Ryoga 
drops the cask he was still holding to clutch the bullet wound in his 
shoulder then pulls his umbrella off his backpack.  "I was gonna curse you 
but now I am gonna BEAT YOU TO DEATH!!!!!"  He screams as he starts to slowly 
stalk forward.

Oh man when did I fall down?  

Do I still have the gun?  

Blood loss is getting to me can't last much longer.

 He's tunneling again, on my face this time.  Last chance.  The sights of the 
big .45 fill my vision as I squeeze off the shot that will either save my 
life or be my last act of defiance in the face of death.  

I realize just how incredibly stupid that sounded, especially for a last 
thought.  Then I notice something even more incredible.  I'm still alive?!  I 
look and see my shot has struck home dead center of the chest right below the 
throat.  

"I hit that goofy medallion?" I mutter in disbelief.  Of course the jacketed 
hollow point punched right through the ugly thing. As I watch him choke up 
blood Ryoga starts to glow and then disappears in an effect reminiscent of 
Time Trax.  "Oh that was how he got to this dimension"  I dreamily say as I 
start to lose consciousness.

******************

I once more stand in the drive way in front of my mothers house.
Two months.  That's how long it has been, and boy have I been through some 
changes. 

Ryoga's brief visit has forced me to take a closer look at my life and my 
hobbies.  I can't stay here any longer.  If I do I am putting my family in 
danger, already I have heard that Tatewaki Kuno is looking for me.  I need to 
be mobile away from the people I love so they can't get hurt in a fight, or 
worse.  

I am leaving, going walkabout as the Aussies would say.  It's not like I have 
a choice, Ryoga's little breaking point trick took out my bike.   That was 
the shrapnel that hit me.  Two links from the drive chain were buried in my 
stomach and part of the frame went through my left lung.  Then there is the 
nice collection of scars I have on my arms, legs and face.

I died twice on the operating table.  But I pulled through, remarkably fast 
in fact.  I am happy to say physically I am in good condition.  Home owners 
insurance paid for laser surgery so I now have 20/20 vision no more glasses 
they are a liability in a fight anyway, the best part is I got it for half 
price.  The pony tail is also gone, I know why the military requires short 
hair and I am going into combat so I am following military doctrine almost 
exclusively now.

My plan is to drift from place to place hitchhiking and hopping trains for 
transport.  Odd jobs and day labor will hopefully keep me fed.  I am going to 
go from Dojo to Dojo shooting school to shooting school here in Florida 
trying to increase my meager skills in Aikido and gunfighting along the way.  
My first stop will be Dennis Hooker Sensei's Shindai Dojo in Orlando, I hope 
to increase my sword skills there as I have bought a Katana.  I know it is a 
weapon that takes a life time to master but it isn't dependent on bullets 
like my other weapons.  Thank God for Florida's shall issue concealed carry 
license laws.

I say my last good-byes to my family and friends there are some tears there 
but they understand my reasons for leaving them.  That hurts the most, Ryoga 
may not have been able to curse or kill me but he got a terrible revenge just 
the same.  I have to leave my loved ones, my education, and my future behind. 
 I now have to live constantly on the run looking over my shoulder trying to 
keep one step ahead of the animates.  Because I know they will be after me, 
Damn you Ryoga because of you I am going to see hell.  

I tug the trench coat that conceals the folding stock 12 gauge slung under my 
left arm closer around my shoulders as it starts to rain.  Sighing I reach up 
to adjust the eye patch that covers the raw socket over my right eye where 
Ryoga's last bandanna cut into my face to keep the rain out of the hole.  
It's time to go, I refuse to die easily though.  I am gonna take as many of 
the bastards with me as I can.  Maybe I will find my way to Fred so I join 
the fight against the evil "?".  Or maybe I will be dead this time tomorrow 
with a bokken run through my heart.  Either way I WILL fight to the last. 



THE END


Notes: (I hesitate to call them "Author's Notes" because I am not sure I 
deserve the title)


1.  Thought this would be a twist from the normal run of the mill revengefic. 
 No shape changing, no superpowers,  and no transportation to another 
universe.  Just a desperate fight for my life, horrible injuries, and a new 
much worse life on the run.  Now that is the kind of thing I would want to do 
to someone that had fucked me over real bad.

2.  I was trying to use the first person present tense to describe action and 
past tense for everything else.  Did it work out all right?

3.  Angry mobs with torches and sharp pointy things please note.  Slacker 
says I can blame him for this so I am taking him up on it.  Happy mobs with 
sodas and brownies however are welcome over any time.

4.  Well, I have just committed fanfiction cliche number 54,  I think I will 
do a self-insertion next.

5.  Thanks for reading this travesty, I know it took time away real works of 
fanfiction that you would have enjoyed much more.

6.  The above mentioned  Shindai Dojo in Orlando, Fl does exist.  Visit them 
on the web at www.Shindai.com.  I train at the Embry Riddle Aeronautical 
University Aikido club, the Aiki O'kami society under Sidney Spencer Sensei.  
I know there is at least one Daytona Beach ERAU student on the list, hey look 
me up online sometime.

7.  Special thanks to Slacker for helping me revise "Violation".

Later 

Outlaw 1


But wait there's more.






Pain, total sensory overload kind of pain.   The pain that makes you wish for 
a root canal sans anesthesia just for the pleasurable feeling.  Slowly it 
started to recede enough for me to open my eye.

 I woke up in an alley with the headache from hell. As I crawled
to my feet, I tried to remember what happened.  If the headache wasn't bad 
enough I was covered in blood, gallons of it.  A quick pat down of my body 
confirmed that most of it wasn't my own, most of it.  "Ahh shit what happened 
this time?" I whispered to my self.

All that came to me was a damn big pig being ridden by a girl. Then it hit me.

"Akari. She found me. Crap."

Then I got another shock. 

"Hi there."

I duck and roll my 12 gauge appearing from it's hiding place and tracking the 
threat before I can even think about what I'm doing.  As my finger tightens 
on the trigger my brain starts to catch up with my body and I recognize the 
figure before me.

"Sailor Pluto?" Then I noticed she wasn't alone. "Chibi-Usa?"

Chibi-Usa shuddered. "Please don't call me that. And I wouldn't
advise the Pluto thing either."

<What the?> "Then what should I call you?"

"Call me Chibi-Slacker. And she's Andrew. And you must have
really pissed off someone to get sent here with us."

<You got no idea spoor.>  I slowly lower the shotgun, but still keep it 
pointed in there general direction. "Maybe we should talk."

As Chibi-Slacker turned away, she, err...he,  paused and asked "What the hell 
happened to you, are you gonna die from blood loss or something?"

"Does the name Akari ring a bell? How about that damn pig of
here's?"

"Oh. And stop pointing that shotgun at me. Or else I'll take
steps."

<Yeah, right. What can the spore do to me? A Pink Sugar Heart
Attack? Oooooh, scary.> "What kind of steps?" Amusement was obvious.

"I'll do my transformation sequence."

*Shudder* "Okay."  I shift into Seiza and rest the weapon across my knees not 
threatening at all but close to hand. As Sailor Andrew is staring into space 
while fiddling with the time rod I focus my attention on the squirt.

"Thanks. I didn't want to transform. It makes ME want to puke,
and I can't even see it."


TBC?


Hahahahaha

Andrew I hope you don't mind me coming over to play.
Tag Slacker your it.



-- .---Anime/Manga Fanfiction Mailing List---. | Administrators - ffml-admins@fanfic.com | | Unsubscribing - ffml-request@fanfic.com | | Put 'unsubscribe' in the subject | `---http://www.fanfic.com/FFML-FAQ.txt ---'