The title of One Eternal Round is somewhat tentative, if someone
comes up with a better title, please let me know. I don't really wish
to post without everything finished, but I do have the main plot
sketched out, some parts of the plot sketch are even on paper. Not to
mention the fact that this has been bouncing around in my head for over
a year now, I just have to get it out. Apologies in advance. Also I
need to give credit to individuals whose previous fics have inspired
certain elements of the plot. I will do this each chapter so as not
to give away future plot contri<ahem> I mean plot points.
Anyway, the reason I'm posting this early in the writing process is
I'd like to get some feedback on style and grammar. That way I'll
improve and need less later on. Also comments would be appreciated on
plot structure as well. So please send me any comments or critique you
feel compelled to author. Also, if you feel this begins to read like
drivel or I begin to start major wish fulfillment, let me know.
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Standard Disclaimer:
I own nothing, I know nothing, I did nothing. All charachters belong
to their creators. Notably, all members of the Ranma 1/2 cast belong
to Rumiko Takahashi and various international copyright holders. I am
not one of those. I am just telling a story, as a fan, and give all
due praise and tribute to the individuals who created the charachters
and settings used herein. All elements of this work are fictional
and bare no resemblance to anything in real life.
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One Eternal Round
by: Michael F. O'Leary
Prologue:
It was dark. Check that, it was dark, wet, cold, he was hungry,
and there was absolutely nothing that could be done to remedy this
situation. Sure, he was a master of his art, one of the best, and
here he was trapped in this pathetic excuse for a cave because he
dropped his guard around two individuals he should have known not
to trust. This was embarrassing, what would the master think, he
was a disgrace. How could they do this to a poor old man in his
last few years... He'd show them, just wait till he was out of this
cave, he already knew the perfect punishment, and if they didn't come
begging and pleading for mercy and forgiveness, well what did he care.
With that thought, he began the slow process of working his way out of
the cave.
Though it was a tedious process, it was still a simple routine he
could have done even in his sleep. It was almost depressingly boring
when one considered the fact that he had been in this situation far to
many times in his long life. Just flare enough battle aura to find
the weak spots in the rubble blocking the exit, then use one of the
many secret techniques which would turn the rock into a fine powder.
Feh, boring work even those two ignorant disciple of his should have
been able to perform... Of course, since they hadn't progressed far
enough into their training to know any of his more interesting
techniques it was a moot point.
Several hours later after a little sweat and toil, it was time to
rest. A quick flick of the hand brought the old pipe out from the
folds of his robe. Another fold of his robe opened to reveal a small
pouch of dried and crumpled tobacco leaves. Stuffing the pipe full
and lighting it with a slight expenditure of chi completed his oft
repeated ritual. Closing his eyes and taking a long, slow inhale
followed by a gentle release brought on a wave of relaxation.
These tired old bones are getting to weak for this. Why can't
they allow an old man his few pleasures and show me the respect I
deserve? Humph! At least the boredom had passed. After all, how
could one be bored when there were so many interesting ways to exact
revenge once an exit had been manufactured. All the amusement he'd
have at their expense, why by the time it was over, they'd be begging
and pleading with him to forgive their foolish ways and resume their
training. He'd show them how kind he could be and forgive them
quickly once they'd done a few, small, insignificant favors...
With a final exhale the pipe was spent and it was time to resume
the escape. The smoking utensils replaced to their hidden folds and
the aged figure resumed the labors of escape. A small blast here, a
larger one there and soon the cave began to expand upward and outward.
It wasn't much longer before an immense bolder was revealed. What was
significant about this one were the wards strung around its
circumference. A quick examination brought a rather dismal frown.
These were to complicated for those two bumbling fools to produce,
they must have had help. Yet who would help them, everyone for
miles wanted them incarcerated, what kind of priest would have sold
them anything, much less wards of the this manner. It would take a
great deal of time to work up the strength to defeat these. With a
few gestures and mumbled phrases, he began to gather strength in an
attempt to shatter the charms, only to have his power fizzle as soon
as contact was made.
"Impossible, he'd never aid them in the creation of wards, besides
he's supposed dead, but who else knew how to fashion kuukan-wards?"
With a cry of rage he began to pound on the boulder hoping beyond
reason that he'd find a way to destroy the rock. In his battle with
the boulder a small scrap of paper fell from the line supporting the
wards. With a curious snort he picked it up and began reading,
frown ever deepening:
Stay put for a few years! The wards binding
you here will fade in time. Stay out of trouble or
else deal with me.
P.S. I left some of your "treasures" in a sack nearby.
That should sustain you until the wards fail.
With a cry of "Treasures!!" he began a new search. A search, not
for an exit, but for something... Lacy.
Outside the cave a lone figure, wrapped in darkness, opened his
eyes and stared at the warded boulder guarding the entrance to the
cave. With a long sigh he shook his head.
"Never could keep his mind on one thing, why ever I took him as a
student I don't know, but at least he won't be interfering for a while.
Till next time Happosai, Adieu."
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Author's Notes:
1. I don't intend to use Japanese or any other language in my writing
except where special attacks and such are concerned, or I feel no
appropriate english translation is available. However, if the word
is ubiquitous enough to make it into my english dictionary, it doesn't
count. In this particular chapter, I used "kuukan" and "Adieu."
The first is Japanese and means "empty space" or "void." This falls
under the first reason; while not a technique parsay, I feel the ecotic
element added justifies in this instance..."null-wards" just sounds
to cliche. The second foreign word, "Adieu" is so well known in
English, that it can now be said to be part of the language, besides
half of english comes from French anyway.
2. I'm particularly looking for critique on style; was I descriptive
enough? Did I handle dialogue properly, was anything confusing or
did everything clear up soon enough? How was my timing, which is
something I've always had trouble with and consequently is a concern.
Also, for grammaticians out there, how was my structure? Oh, and this
is
really important, should I switch from an omnicient narrative to a first
person handling of the story. I must confess partiallity to
ominicience
as I feel the internal man vs. himself conflict is essential to any
good story, so let me know if it's found to be annoying.
Anyway, that's it for now.