[FFML] FFML] [Ranma/OMG] [Revised] NaRT4 I – Mind Over Monster Ch. 1-3

[David Andersson]

General author comments to be skipped at will:
 
I just noticed that, for some reason, two of my posts were converted into severely garbled format at the Sanjiyan ffml archive, while another didn't show up at all, even though all of them looked fine in the Sent folder. Apparently some type of compatibility issues, or temporary hickup, as the rest looked all right. I'm making another attempt to post the missing chapters.
 
I also _really_ need some some constructive input from more experienced writers in order to hone my craft, and understand what worked, what didn't, and most particularly what to do about it. I'm aware that my autism and add give me a somewhat different perspective, and rather limited intuitive ability to gauge the impressions of people in general, and mostly resort to turning matter-of-fact analytical instead, so I'm very dependent on the feedback, and have received very little beyond "It's far too judgemental for my taste" (I tend to be analytical rather than judgemental, but I suppose that's a matter of perspective, and it's not like bashing misguided idealists is more justified than making fun of casual killers), "I really loved the depth of your characterisation. When will you write more?" (when I can figure out some way to make money on my original ideas, as I'm technically a manic-compulsive idiot for doing all this free work), "You're abusing my
 pet character" (nah, I just have a different take on it, and probably valid reasons, or simply limited ideas how to handle it), "This is a good story, but I didn't like the implications that evil always outclasses good" (that's not quite the intent, I just find it clichéd to have it succeed to redeem, when my experiences almost uniformly tell me that it usually won't, but rather have the opposite effect), "The Veteran was badass, and a man of greatness" (well, that's not quite my point), "This was really bizarre, but it seems like you've intended that" (well, yes, and no) or "It's amazing how bullseye the archetypes were" (well, nearly all of the quirks and sentiments are directly mirrorred from someone who exists in real life, and then meshed together) and some spelling corrections, which while all very appreciated don't quite help me to evolve or enlighten my perspective on this piece.
 
I've genuinely made a very serious effort to create something different and hone the story nearly as much as I possibly can, or at least the second part, which I'm pretty satisfied with overall, especially the interlude, and towards the end. Spending several hundred hours in total to simultaneously explore and attempt to figure out a multitude of impressions that I've found severely odd or disturbing, whether from the real world, popular culture, or the Internet community, and spoofing them since it's healthier to laugh off the horrible than wallow in it. I've never written any fiction before so while the concept started small, it begun to grow and grow and grow in terms of additional, and imho more itneresting ideas. 
 
It probably turned pretty offensive, as these things (tongue-in-cheek exploration of potentially sensitive topics/satire) invariably do, but I don't really think it's any darker or more analytical/judgemental/intolerant(/pick a definition) than most of the stories I've read, simply approaching the issues from a different perspective, and focusing on different things, and I've made an effort to treat each character with respect as an 'individual' to let them speak from their own mindset as far as I've honestly understood it. It's very far from a bash-fic, but has, I hope, several interesting things to say, or rather interesting questions to ask.
 
I'm also aware that I've gone from sending out lots of reviews a few years back (although most of them offlist) to nearly none, which may contribute to the general 'ignore him to death' reaction I tend to get from most of my readers, and considered submitting ones for Shadow Chronicles and Avenging, which I've enjoyed and followed for quite some time, but have realised that my input simply isn't very useful in general, as I don't have the necessary experience. It invariably either turns into spell-checks (which Office has in-built anyway), hollow words of encouragement, virtually useless structural advise, plot ideas, or even some stream of consciousness opinion piece. Still, I could start doing that sort of thing again, or even 'trade' reviews (DB and Zigra are the only writers I've helped in the past who have sent me any feedback) if anyone thinks it might be helpful, and probably have greater use than most for that sort of thing, as, again,
 I apparently tend to have a peculiar perspective.
 
In any case, I most likely don't mean anyone who may feel offended any harm. (Well, maybe Hayato ^_- ) If it's any consolation I regularly find lots of stuff offensive, possibly including your own, and at the end of the day I'm the sort who generally doesn't really want anyone to die, just to try stop preying upon each other (but am a realist and see the necessity for practical solutions), although it would be nice if some of the most extreme archetypes I've used would consider being less over-the-top evil, or the plain over-the-top ones to turn more 'sensible', but they probably won't, and gaining an understanding of how they work, and put it to the test, sort of tends to take the edge off the horrors they technically represent. 
 
Best Wishes, and take care. I hope that you enjoy the stories of the second part... and don't mind the first too much.
 
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Nabiki & Ranma – Together 4ever – Part I: Mind over monster
 
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Nabiki has a plan. Urd has an itchy trigger-finger. Ranma has a life turned upside-down. Ryuu has a duty. Taro has a purpose. Ryoga has an unwanted nanny. Kuno talks funny. A yarn of twisted self-empowerment for those who want something experimental, unpredictable, layered, darkly ironic, a bit challenging, and very different.
 
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Ranma ½ © Rumiko Takahashi, Oh! My Goddess! © Kosuke Fujishima, as well as any local licensee affiliates. However everything of my own creation connected to this story, including scenarios, titles, dialogue, text, and any original characters are © to myself, and may not be used without permission. Any similarity to existing people or organisations is entirely coincidental, beyond archetypal significance. No animals were harmed through the writing of this narrative. Constructive comments & criticism are very appreciated.
 
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Warning: 
The story will contain a great deal of potentially offensive, politically incorrect, unfamiliar, or emotionally challenging material, including disturbing characters and philosophies, swearing, layers of irony, and occasional graphic violence. Much of the text incorporates sweeping, tongue-in-cheek, over-the-top satire. Please use personal discretion, and do not enter without a sense of humour. If you can stand watching South Park or even the Simpsons, this likely shouldn’t present too much of a problem.
 
This second chapter will contain a mild lemon segment. It's relatively inoffensive, and is used for story purposes, not intended as a main focus, but is nonetheless present, as is occasional swearing. 
 
This is a first attempt at creative writing, and as such the quality will progressively drastically improve in later stages. The much shorter first part is somewhat excessively wordy, while the second is highly compressed, and generally of far superior entertainment value.
 
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Preface:
 
Once upon a time in the faraway kingdom of Japan there was a boy named Ranma, who was taken from his mother when very young. He and his father wandered all over Asia, to train, and train, and train in the martial arts. The boy came to meet many new friends, but they did not always agree.
 
One day they visited a strange and mysterious place named Jusenkyo. It had magic springs that transformed anyone that fell in into whatever bathed there first. Now, when touching cold water, the father changes into a panda bear of very little brains, and Ranma is replaced with a twin sister. 
 
After the journey they visited Mister Tendo. He was an old training-friend to Ranma's father. Mister Tendo had three daughters. “Pick one to marry and carry on our school,” the fathers said. 
 
The oldest was Kasumi, who was gentle, caring, and motherly. The youngest was Akane, who was strong, and noble, but had a fiery temper. Ranma learned to love her very much, and they helped each other through many troubles. 
 
And then there was Nabiki...
 
 
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Dreams and designs - Puppets and paper-dolls
 
 
Urd, higher-dimensional entity, goddess of the past, chief system maintainer of creation, only daughter of the king of the gods and the queen of the demons, and potentially the third most powerful being in her reality, felt mind-numbingly bored of monitor duty. 
 
When this was the case she sometimes 'investigated' the particularly bug-infested area of Nerima. The hijinks of a bunch of unhinged martial artists in particular usually provided her with amusement. However, her entertainment source was slowly turning dull and repetitive. Most of the 'stage-actors' seemed locked in circular routines and relationships... and nearly without any juicy stuff whatsoever! She'd like to shake up the status quo a bit and see what happened. Since so many people and irrational phenomena in the area were walking products of non-harmful glitches, viruses and flawed coding, some minor influence could usually be covered up as system repairs. 
 
Unfortunately, any attempts to work outside the framework of plausibility and existing phenomena would be auto-corrected. Even minor subliminal messages, or superficially random happenstance goading people into a certain direction, could only be pulled off by the exceptionally skilled, and while Urd wasn't quite the best she certainly qualified for this category.
 
While she had done some tinkering, such as adjusting the odds for the manic-depressive, in all respects lost boy, Ryoga conveniently encountering his seemingly perfectly suited girlfriend Akari, the indecisive Saotome kid remained the central node, and as such, had to be involved for any crucial disturbance. She didn’t think he came across as particularly well matched with any of the girls clinging to him, and a decision would hardly provide a solution to the remaining entanglements. Oh sure, he and Akane genuinely cared for each other, they really did. They had proved willing to sacrifice their lives for each other in an instant, and were both usually kind and helpful towards people in general. However, his insensitive arrogance, unthinking ego-gratification, inability to show appreciation, general unpredictability and propensity to use insults frequently hit all her most painful insecurities spot on. It triggered her most paranoid and frantic sides
 or enhanced her sense of inferiority, while this behaviour in turn made him even more guarded and emotionally unsettled. Urd would prefer if they both went on with their lives and gained partners who helped them to evolve in interesting directions... and what Urd wants Urd usually gets... even if the affected parties occasionally didn't seem to appreciate her efforts.  
 
On the other hand she likely only had one shot for severe interference, and no real idea how to achieve widespread impact without turning the scenario rigid and unfunny... but eventually came up with a certain insight: "Delegate it!"  
  
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Ranma found himself by the Tendo kitchen table. There was something irregular about the walls and furniture, but it didn't register as important. The contents of his plate outwardly resembled a bubbling blob of mixed black- and green-tinted toxic waste.   
"Please try it." Akane urged him.  
"It doesn't seem edible..." He mumbled.  
She nervously glanced down at the stew. "I worked for 4 hours to make this... There's lots of pistachio."   
"That explains the green parts. That stuff could try to bite my hand off... Can't you donate it to the army or something?" 
"Ryoga liked it."  
"He's unconscious on the floor, and he's way tougher than I am!"   
She took a tentative bite and recoiled in distaste. "I'm trying so hard, but it never works." She tried to stifle a tear.  
"You're trying too hard with everything at once! You get too tense to actually develop any skills and turn into a nervous wreck!" 
"You jerk!"  
Ranma decided to enjoy the view, and rested his head against his arms, while he disappeared into the sky.   
 
He continued eating. Whatever he chewed on carried a really nice taste.  
Someone stood behind the combined open grill and counter in front of him. "Ran-chan let's marry ok?" It was a familiar, friendly and dependable voice, with a pronounced Kansai accent.  
"Huh?"   
"...We'll have a nice picket fence, a red house, five children and a poodle named Kiba!"   
"Wait..."   
"...We'll build an okonomiyaki dojo. All your students can buy dinner from me!"   
"Look Ucchan..."   
"...Maybe a pachinko parlour in one of the spare rooms..."   
"You barely know me... We haven't met since we were children!"   
"...And a big water-bed for… eh-he-he... the evenings... probably in a soundproof room..."   
"You have these starry-eyed daydreams of me and our future... I'm not even sure if I want to settle down or explore the world!"   
"We'll be so happy... What!?"   
"I'm not that reliable and unselfish a guy... Try to be realistic."   
"How could you?! Betrayer! What about our children?! You said I was cute!"   
"Ucchan, I thought it was going to give you faith in your femininity!"  
"Waaah! I never want to see you again!"   
Several okonomiyaki bombs simultaneously hit him and exploded.  
 
He tried another piece. It was ok, but not quite as good as the previous mouthful. A dragon adorned the collapsible wall in front of him.  
"Ranma like food?" This time he listened to a cheerful, girlish intonation, with thick Chinese dialect.  
"Yeah sure, what is it?"   
"Is Peking duck."   
*Splffft!* "Duck? Sorry for a moment I thought..."   
"Is Mousse. He always annoy Shampoo and try stop from seeing you. Obstacle is for killing." Her innocent and upbeat expression didn't so much as twitch.  
"What the... That's just sick! You didn't just kill him, you had to eat him too?"   
She looked perplexed. "Shampoo no understand. Is good duck meat. Shame to waste."   
He had to get away and decide what to do. "...Look, I have to go home... The others will wonder if I return too late."   
"Is no problem. They no bother you."   
"What?"   
"Pervert girl, pancake girl, crazy girl, stupid panda, weird mama and crying man not want you marry Shampoo. Greedy girl bother Shampoo before. Tried get pay for Ranma and took pictures. Housewife girl try stop Shampoo. Obstacle is for killing." Molten lava could have frozen from her innocent manner of stating it.   
"You monster! Are you serious? How did you keep the police from finding out?"
"Used instant Jusenkyo on bodies. They pork now. Is good. We run out soon."   
"Ucchan!? Kasumi!? Akane!?! Mommy!?!?!... I'm going to kill you."   
"Is not. Shampoo had fun but tired of game. You ate too-too much control mushroom."   
She clapped her hands. "You obey Shampoo all times ok?"   
*Clap!* "Stand still!"   
*Clap!* "Go with Shampoo to China!"   
*Clap!* "Learn language!"   
*Clap!* "Be good obedient husband!"   
She noticed his stricken face. "Ranma not worry. Shampoo will use memory shampoo to make forget old life. Airen will like. Others would take back if alive."  
She seemed to ponder something for a few seconds. "Shampoo love Ranma, but good spouse must be stern." She kicked him in the groin. "Is punishment for talk back to wife and judge older culture."   
She walked toward the stairs. "We go flight in one hour." *Clap!* "Help pack bags!"   
Ranma obeyed.  
 
He found it hard to think straight or make conscious movements. Painful spasms ravaged his muscles and an annoying itch pestered his skin.   
"I see you're awake. It does so turn me on, seeing my Ranma-darling helpless, in pain, all mine, away from those other hussies!" Something worried him with this tone. It was shrill and erratic, like whoever used it wasn't entirely awake.  
He strained to take in the surroundings. He seemed to be tied with chains to a torture rack!  
"Don't bother trying to escape. The concoction I fed you was quite potent."   
She licked a steel-tipped whip. "Now scream for your Kodachi-sama! Ooohohohohohohoho!"   
Several flashes of pain made the world go black again.  
  
He was lying on a soft, pristine lawn. It was a clear day with a soft blue sky and a gentle breeze played with his hair.   
"Peaceful isn't it?" A husky melodious voice appeared from nowhere.   
"Yeah."   
"You know, as it stands, this isn't going to be resolved with a happy ending."   
"..."   
"Your admirers being what they are, and your inability to cut them lose."   
"Phyeah."   
"I don't think they're right for you... or you for them in Akane's and Ukyo's case."   
"Maybe, but I'm out of ideas."   
"So what would you wish for in their stead?"   
"Wish? Wishing is lame."   
"Come on. Admit your desire."   
"Ok, I'll play along. I wish I had a perfect girlfriend, who could support me and help to handle this mess."   
"Granted."   
  
Ranma woke up with a splitting headache, but, as is often the case with dreams, he forgot most of the contents within minutes.  
  
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Urd was happy. Her personal involvement may have been restricted to minor probability modifications, but with her carefully arranged official prerogative matters were very different indeed. Fortunately, repeatedly saving the life of Akane, some children... even that of an ingrate like Nabiki, at the risk of his own, and even helping some enemies out of tight spots, barely made him legible for a wish despite various character flaws. Naturally, so were several million others, usually with the few recipients randomly picked, with likelihood in relation to karma level and potential contents of the request. Wishes were intended to be an in-built system balance to the horrors plaguing the world. Thus they were usually granted to great humanitarians who dreamed of creating successful charity organisations or world-improving inventions (world peace would circumvent free will, which wasn't desirable and similarly vast changes would direct a wasteful degree of
 system capacity to enforce), with all recollection of the incident removed afterwards.   
  
However, to avoid feelings of detachment, apathy and helplessness from silently overlooking the world without interfering, high-level goddesses did earn a small quota of people they could cherry-pick among the acceptable candidates every century or so. As a bonus feature in case they wanted to help out a struggling friend they had socialised with or someone they'd taken a like to. Heroes of legend sometimes belonged to this category. Descents to Earth were rare nowadays, so it was more of a forgotten rule, which hadn't been rectified since few were expected to use it, but it still existed. Her sister had used the opportunity (to snatch a childhood friend) and now so did she.  
  
Of course, Urd's view of the ‘perfect girlfriend’ was coloured by her own biases and the requirements of the situation. The power of the wish was still in proportion to the subject's combined virtuous nature and actions, so it would turn far more influential if she worked within the context of equivalent local power sources, regardless if the set-up stretched into the past. The external intervention would also become far less palpable for those involved.  
(Now who to pick? ... Someone crafty enough to handle the repercussions and have come up with something similar enough to what I have in mind... Let's see the suggestions... Just one huh?)   
She skimmed through the data. (The profile says that for various reasons she's endeavoured to seal off or incapacitate the sections of her brain enabling conscience and compassion ever since her mother died. She now gains satisfaction from revelling in her ability to deceive, rob, terrorise and hurt others to great personal profit through as limited exertion as possible and without any negative personal consequences. It gives her sadistic entertainment, luxury and an orgiastic sense of power... Damn, she even makes me look like a saint in comparison! ...In any case she'll turn any boyfriend mental in no time with that attitude. Let's see what I can do about it!)  
  
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Nabiki sneezed. She lost focus on the item at her desk and sat up in bed. She wasn't in a particular hurry. The other household members were out on various errands and wouldn't be back for a few hours. If she had waited several days for an opportunity to avoid inadvertent eavesdropping, she could suspend it for another 20 minutes. It was better to stick with routine than get lost in excitement and make a mistake. Time to make some easy hard cash!   
  
It wasn't as simple as it used to, but she was enjoying the challenge to become more creative. While she encouraged Kuno-chan and the boys to keep up with their silly and volatile infatuation on Akane (quickly driving her sister insane in the process) she could usually flog dozens of pictures for sky-high prices at a single day. Alas, alack and all that.   
At least this day had been pretty lucrative. She had sent Shampoo, Kodachi and Ukyo out of context pictures of Ranma being nuzzled by their rivals. Mousse and Kuno-chan had similarly received a copy each of the ones featuring Shampoo and Akane respectively. Hinako was informed that he was skipping schoolwork to pick up babes, and Happosai that Ranma was stealing panties from his collection. She had then sent Ranma on an errand to the specified location and filmed the ensuing imbroglio. For a while it actually looked like Ranma might be killed in the melee. But Ryoga had unexpectedly showed up from the ground, didn't like to see anyone being bullied, punted Kuno-chan & Mousse into the horizon through a single attack, and leapt away with Ranma over his shoulder while the girls were kept busy trying to stomp Happosai. It was rather amusing all in all. She thought the movie had a fair chance to claim a spot at a talk show or possibly a 'funniest home video'
 award. At the very least it should be a hit online and gain her nice advertisement revenues or even some lucrative attention from foreign parties if she played her cards right. Maybe she could direct some humiliation themed TV productions?  
  
It didn't really matter if Ranma survived or not, but she needed him to pose in female form for her erotic handkerchief prints collection. If he wouldn't she had threatened to show a tape in her possession to the police. It featured sounds of an apparent assault and attempted rape, with Ranma's own words and her own faked screams in fear and pain condemning him. Of course she had intentionally distorted the contents of the scene. He had destroyed a somewhat less incriminating photograph, as well as a swiftly replaced copy of the cassette, but technically it shouldn't be too hard to acquire some fake witness.  
  
She didn't completely lack funds, but all of them were tied up in personal investments. Regretfully she couldn't add the house and dojo as extra collateral without her father's knowledge. He was a sentimental idiot and she doubted that it would be very hard to gain access to his financial papers or faking his signature, as long as she didn't provide him with reasons for suspicion. But she also wasn't very experienced and for once didn't dare to risk being exposed and disowned through mishap or professional accounting reviews. It wouldn't matter if a great loss sent her family into the poorhouse; she had done that before during the Kasha-Oh affair. (The stubborn bastard wouldn't even give in when she stole his parachute!) Technically Akane would likely get to inherit the dojo and Kasumi the house, but from a practical standpoint she needed a few years of education before even daring to make an attempt. Also, he provided her with free room and board. With
 market rates being what they were she'd rather not risk to pay for that by her own means. If nothing else, there was always an advantage to order delivered take-away on his credit. Perhaps she should have remained engaged to Ranma after all, to sell off the inheritance and play for the rest of her life as she had originally planned? …No, it had turned too dangerous to be targeted by his unhinged admirers, and she didn't want to limit her 'romantic' options until attaining the eventual point of divorce.  
  
Maybe she could simply offer to become his agent as a Hong Kong movie star, Hollywood stuntman, or popular showman? It's not like he had many other prospects and it would be easy to trick him into giving her the main cut or eventually sign over all the proceeds. Maybe an early death could cause the memorabilia prices to skyrocket? It worked for Bruce Lee... She could let Ryoga think Ranma had raped Akari, or was that too farfetched even for him? Decisions, decisions... (Stop dreaming! I'd need a few years of network building first. Better to deal with the present.) 
  
(Oh well. Time to get spoiled by someone else's money!)   
She picked up the phone. "Hi Yoshi-chan! You doing anything?"   
"..."   
"Uh-huh."   
"..."   
"I was thinking of you too."   
"..."   
"That's so sweet of you to say"   
"..."   
"I'm feeling lonely and have nothing to do tomorrow."   
"..."   
"Really? You too?"   
"..."   
"Dinner for two at 5 then."   
"..."   
"Hey, real ladies like men who can show them a good time."   
"..."   
"Sure, 5 o'clock in the shopping district"   
"..."   
"Thinking of you. Bye." *Click!*   
"They're sooooooo stupid. Leave it to the really rich kids to compare dick size through how much they can spend on their girlfriends."   
 
"And now for some follow-up" She lifted the receiver again.   
"Fusao-chan!"   
"..."   
"I feel so sad since you left me"   
"..."   
"You wound me"   
"..."   
"I need some emotional support to soothe my pain"   
"..."   
"Yeah, you know those pictures?"   
"..."   
"I think it's important to be honest with each other."   
"..."   
"Kikyo deserves to know how you used and threw me away behind her back"   
"..."   
"Is that any way for a gentleman to talk?"   
"..."   
"Uh-huh"   
"..."   
"50,000 Yen? You remember my account number right?"   
"..."   
"I feel so much better now Fusao-chan. I'm really glad we could have this talk."   
"..."   
"Ok. Love you. Buh-bye." *Click!*   
"Whooo I feel hot!" She strolled over to the wardrobe.   
"Now to pick which evening dress I should use to blow out poor Yoshi-chan's minuscule brains?" Usually she was content to 'loan' clothing from her sister, but this wasn't the type Akane was inclined to wear. It was an unpleasant, but necessary sacrifice. At least most of the collection consisted of gifts from admirers.  
  
Nabiki had gradually endeavoured to suppress her capabilities for useless emotional reactions (They had overcome and broken her father into a loathsome sentimental, weak, useless, overprotective, undignified, snivelling wretch! His meagre incomes limited to savings, irregular dojo classes, and go-to-guy community odd jobs or enforcement, stuck in a rut of perpetual anxiety for his children's wellbeing, the continuation of his school, and woefully useless for amassing opulence) or inclination for idealistic self-sacrifice (It crippled her elder sister's quality of life! She was repressed, self-denying, dull, and stagnant. The antithesis to everything valuable in civilisation!), and had thus far succeeded beyond a certain lingering nostalgia for her dead mother. She recognised their usefulness as humorous frailties to exploit, but that was it. When puberty kicked in full force it turned much harder in certain respects and she used to lust for
 well-travelled, rich and good-looking men, but as always she had eventually curbed any co-dependent maidenly feelings and directed the experience to her own advantage. By now her base sexuality was controlled and efficient, but she did appreciate how to use her appeal to the disadvantage of any potential suitors and received a certain erotic stimulation from the thrill of power and control.  
 
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After making a decision she sat down at the desk, and once again contemplated the object in front of her. A few photographs of Ranma working out were spread about around it. She'd have to select whichever Kodachi might find appealing.   
  
Contrary to certain beliefs, while taking extreme pride in herself, she had no illusions about being either a genius, or even particularly good at schoolwork. Oh sure, she was reasonably intelligent and did ok, but she didn't have the soul-oppressing drive of her younger sister, and couldn't compete with a nation of elite students all immersed in a cram school mentality during their every waking moment. She liked to actually enjoy herself whenever she could. Her strengths lay in keeping a cool head; thinking on her feet, lack of ethical restraints, using other people's imperfections to her advantage, an interest for economics, and an enterprising spirit for maximum profit through minimum effort. In short, by the extreme local standards she was at heart lazy, sloppy, comfort-addicted, and an individualist aberration in a very conformist society, or simply a two-bit huckster, depending on whom you asked. 
 
Once accepted to a prestigious enough financial institution she reckoned that she'd manage quite satisfactory, and could apply for exchange programs abroad, to avoid the native female glass ceiling and 'work here until you die' asphyxiating pyramid business structure. But as matters stood she likely wouldn't make the cut, and it would severely strain her assets to pay for tuition at even a very moderately renowned foreign university. Still, her only recourses would be to manage the finances of a barely surviving dojo, hazard to live off her investment money, become a pathetic housewife or a hopeless office lady! Fortunately she had access to certain esoteric information and resources unavailable to her peers. It had taken quite a bit of work, but could potentially augment her talents to near invincibility and open any path she desired! ...Potentially ...There were no guarantees when chaotic magic was involved. 
  
According to her data the springs of Jusenkyo could mix curses, be dug and imprinted in present day, and even confer characteristic abilities associated with a well-known mythological being simply by immersing a representative image which had served as an object of faith. The effects could also be made permanent by a magic ladle, but it had unfortunately been destroyed. The foundation of the springs lay in Jusendo Mountain, which should make the magic pure, raw, unspecified and extra powerful. She had used one of her scarce contacts to abduct a small but old shrine statue portraying a well-known type of Shinto nature spirit, while corresponding with the local tour guide about methods to fully control of a curse. He had at first been baffled by the question, but went through the chronicles, since her family had helped him in the past. 
 
He eventually informed her about a previous successful attempt accomplished by destabilising and empowering the magic through a mixture with equal amounts of source water and ingesting the mixture while in a state of intense focus on the intent. Satisfied with the answer she travelled to China, paid the guide to dig an ample well, waited until it was sufficiently saturated from the soil, immersed the sculpture, and carefully sampled equal parts water from this and a pre-existing spring into a small container. There had been some trouble when the guide proved reticent to help her gather source water out of fear from its guardians, the Phoenix tribe, but that nuisance had been taken care of by threatening to leak information about his and his daughter's previous involvement. She had arrived back at the Japanese airport just a few days ago.  
  
Yes, everything would turn out just fine. She cleared her head of all qualms and distractions, focused on her greatest dream, and took a large swig. Unfortunately the guide didn't take kindly to threats to his family and had added a measure of two additional springs into the concoction.  
  
A sudden wave of nausea caused Nabiki to lose her footing. She barely managed to direct her momentum towards the bed to avoid injury. An intense tide of doubts and regrets began to cascade across her mind.   
  
Was it really a good thing to use and abuse people who had never hurt her in the slightest, just because she could? There had been so many throughout the years that she had lost count. A trail of broken hearts, emptied wallets, public humiliations, false allegations, destroyed reputations, shattered minds, arranged 'accidents' and life-threatening conflicts. She had helped to nearly drive her younger sister mad as a source of diversion and some extra cash, and even destroyed her wedding just to get presents! She had been willing to ruin her family for the sake of petty pride! Ranma had saved her life and she still used him as a slave for rental! She had been willing to frame him for assault and attempted rape just to watch him squirm! She even traded his female form to the yakuza to pay off gambling debts! Her father was a mentally unbalanced, chronically depressed wreck without money for either personal therapy or to finance Kasumi's education. She had
 made enough from investments to help them out, yet still didn't care about spending daddy’s limited finances on expensive fast food, selling his beloved dojo to live on the funds, or stealing her sister's clothes to avoid paying for them herself...  
  
She directed several hard slaps towards her own face.   
"Ok girl, get a hold of yourself… You can do this. You've done it before, many times. It's easy, like getting rid of old garbage... Deep breaths... Remember... empathy is the enemy. Empathy is the enemy. Nice people finish last. Nice people finish last. Pity is for losers. Pity is for losers... You enjoy life best when you don't care... The victor decides what's right and wrong... Do it to them, before they do it to you… It's the law of the jungle... The weak are meat... The strong eat... Show me the money... Always look out for number one... I'm just self-centred... It’s not me… it’s just the system… Conscience is a weakness... Greed is the strongest shield… Leaving survivors only brings… lawsuits… 'Good' will... always... lose... because... it'ssss... sssstupid... Aaaauuuhhhhaa!!!"  
 
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Urd hummed as she revised Nabiki's profile which, given that this was the computer whose software not only defined but constituted reality itself, truly encompassed the girl's entire essence. The installation of compassion and conscience levels comparable with an altruistic idealist had initially created nervous shock, but was quickly being stabilised by automatic sub-routines. She cheerfully continued to compose her assessment of an interesting optimised girlfriend.  
  
Nabiki came to her senses again just in time to find her body beginning to shift and contort on its own accord. The involuntary hysteria had somehow abated, but she was beginning to feel atypically baffled by this development.   
  
(Let's see. Guys like feminine women.) "Verbal directive 1: No body hair below the nose!"  
Nabiki scratched her back. (How did my clothes suddenly turn so itchy?)  
(Yeah, that's the spirit.) "Verbal directive 2: Smooth, unblemished complexion!"  
 "Oww!" To feel all your skin simultaneously straighten out will have that effect.  
"Verbal directive 3: Increase total breast volume by 1.5! Round, firm and perky! Small nipples! Equalise outline!"  
"Oww! Oww! Oww! Oww! Owwwwww!" Her shirt had already been more than tight enough.   
(Mature and foxy is good.) "Verbal directive 4: Legs 1.4x length of remaining body!"   
"Whoa!" (As if the weight in front wasn't enough!) Nabiki waved her arms while trying to stay upright.  
"Verbal directive 5: Trim, tight butt!"
"Ouwp!" (Careful. I almost lost balance there.)  
"Verbal directive 6: Elastic dancer stomach!"  
(Now I feel nauseous as well. Did I eat something inappropriate?)  
"Verbal directive 7: Curved, high-heeled feet!"  
"Ouch!" That was the final blow. Nabiki fell backward straight on her behind. "...And now I'm officially freaked out."  
 
"You are quite the amateur. How is the poor girl even supposed to walk?" A refined, ladylike voice interrupted the procedure.
Urd spun around her office chair. "Peorth? When did you get here?"  
"Oh, I noticed that some discourteous personage was overreaching her assigned jurisdiction, and entered into mine sans demander. I trans-shifted locations shortly afterwards."  
"Meaning: You've monitored everything, but just arrived?"  
"Mm-hmm."  
"You know that I am the head sys-admin and haven't used up my quota right?"
"Yes, well I am the head of direct assistance to and interaction with the mortal plane. You should have briefed me about your intentions. Dream-spinning alone is extremely questionable."
(Typical.) Urd generally liked Peorth, she was a benevolent and hard-working goddess with similar tastes to herself, but also a stickler for procedure and hated to feel disrespected. Worse, she could easily shut this down. Thankfully she had an edge. While Peorth was limited to misdirection, Urd could lie.
"Well, I knew that you would be automatically notified of all potential interference. There was no chance that a professional like you would ever slack off her duties. I simply assumed that my small pastime shouldn't preoccupy your busy schedule."  
"Well then, that's different, but I don't mind une petite pause. You are obviously not used to this."  
"What's that supposed to...? ...Sure."
"I endeavoured to signify that some are able to distinguish between excess and elegance."  
"Some apparently don't have any choice."  
"Ohohohohoho... shut up."
 
"If I may continue... Verbal directive 8: Permanent healthy light brown hue! Blue eyes! Light blond hair!""  
Nabiki sat on the floor studying her hand and holding some stray tresses. (Which nationality am I supposed to be anyway?)  
"That’s exactly what I am talking about! You are trying to turn her into yourself!"  
"And that's bad because...?"  
"Beyond not being able to move through other means than crawling? Because she's Japanese, and nobody will be able to recognise her with so many modifications! You have to stick with subtlety... Verbal command: Override: Section Authority: Goddess First Class Unlimited, Peorth!"
"Hey!"  
"Verbal directive 9: Undo verbal directive #4, #7, #8! Multiply #3 by 0.8!"  
"Why did you get rid of the tan?   
"Too glaring. Besides, why is a tan associated with health?" She theatrically embraced herself. "L’oh, I have a tan! My skin is crusty and I may get cancer! Hug me and get chafed!"
"Because natural mulatto pigmentation is intuitively associated with a healthy, diversified genes supply?"  
"Too bad that nobody informed you that blond hair and blue eyes are recessive traits then. Your manifestation form isn't exactly inconspicuous."  
"Thanks! It's always nice to confirm it."
 
Nabiki tried to clear her head. (Ooohhkay, I seem...mostly...back to normal.) She managed to stand up. (Ok, so far so good. Let's assess what's happened.)  
"Verbal directive 10: Milky-cream lustrous, velvety skin! Gentle eyes, under thick lashes, with an impish, erotic glint! Supple, pink, pouting lips!"  
Nabiki stood before the wardrobe mirror. She lifted an eyebrow. "I seem to metamorphose into a painted Barbie doll."  
"Oh yes, now you're turning her into yourself instead. Why not make them cherry-flavoured while you're at it?"  
"At least it's more restrained than what you had in mind. Verbal directive 11: Elastic tongue!"  
Nabiki unstuck a sticky, damp object from the top of her brow. (...A Barbie-doll successfully impersonating a frog.) "Ou can au! Ich ich nok changy!"
"...Peorth ...look ...that one is really not necessary. Check the enhancements I had selected for the next step."  
"...Oh! Well ... d'accord alors. Verbal command: Jump section! Verbal directive: Upload prepared traits: kitsune, replica, empath, mender!"
Nabiki promptly turned into a featureless pink blob on the floor. Her usual enforced veneer of dignity and sarcasm literally slipped out of her grasp. Fear and panic quickly replaced any quaint charm she had perceived in the previous situation. She couldn't move! She couldn't see! She couldn't talk! She had no control! (What did I ever do to deserve this? ...Don't answer! ...I really wish I were back to normal!)   
 
She tried to visualise herself sitting on the bed, in the casual clothes she wore when this begun, and dissipate this obvious hallucination... and suddenly she was! (Ok... that's fine... that's good... everything is all right.)   
She picked up the closest notebook and begun to write down the experience for her regular psychotherapy session... regular beginning tomorrow that is... until she remembered that she neglected to retrieve a pen. She looked down at the written text, then to her forefinger, and repeated the motion. (This has definite possibilities!)   
She envisioned her hand in the shape of a mallet. (So far, so good.)   
She managed to make give it the semblance of a mobile phone, but not to make it work. (No advanced technology, which I can't thoroughly comprehend... at least not yet... Does that include even more intricate biological mechanisms? I've managed to put myself back to normal, so I guess not. Perhaps similar enough structures are auto-patterned after my base?)   
She made a few minor tests by reconverting to the beautified version of herself seen in the mirror (minus the tongue!) and creating various elegant dresses. (Oh yeah! The high-society boys are going to eat their hearts out for my attention!)    
To contrast she tried to imagine Kasumi and Hinako beside her in the same attire... and suddenly appeared to both be and not be in several places at once. It was hard to describe, but on one level she was aware of the actions of several people and on another had 3 separately thinking and acting minds. She took the opportunity to make comparisons and, after convincing herself as being superior to either her sister or the schoolteacher, she put herself back together. (Never mind all the initial silliness, my gamble has paid off far beyond expectation! It worked! It worked! It worked! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes! Yes!) 
  
Emboldened, she speedily borrowed the image of various female celebrities, combined their characteristics and increased or decreased her volume and mass.   
(Oh yeah... the inheritance.) It no longer seemed relevant, but she made an attempt to mimic Soun's features just to make sure. (No result huh?)  She didn't really care, but mentally outlined various other males, still unsuccessfully. She shrugged. She had a strong female identity and wouldn't have enjoyed turning into men, and she would hardly need it. As for her family, that was even less important. Let them all keep their little breadcrumbs. It didn't concern her any more. She had evolved so far beyond them that it wasn't funny!  
  
This embodied every opportunity she had ever dreamed about! She could seduce any man to do her bidding, or just dispose of his girlfriend/mistress/wife and use the identity! Once she obtained that memory-adjusting formula she'd rewrite recollections to smoothly invade, disappear or forge backgrounds as she saw fit! She could masquerade as nearly anyone she wished, exploit their resources as her own, or use them as scapegoats! She had no accountability whatsoever, and could freely use society as her personal playground by using non-existent personas! She could pay for elite studies abroad and enrol for multiple occupations at once, without feeling that she neglected any subject, and simultaneously explore every pleasure and experience the Earth had to offer! She could even start over and re-live her childhood, if she ever felt inclined! (This is exhilarating! I'm free! Free! Free! Take that world!)  
 
No! That was the old Nabiki speaking! It made her nauseous to hear such filth! She would never do such horrible things or desert her family! This was a wonderful gift. She shouldn't simply squander it for personal gain, but use it to help and support those she loved! ...Though it seemed harmless to study many subjects. She could use it to work for several times the pay, which she could send to her family, or donate to charitable purposes, and amass diversified knowledge that could benefit mankind. Yes! She should be open and honest with them about this opportunity, contact a wholesome modelling agency, outline her unique talents and offer her services. This should give her enough capital to pay her father's debts, support treatment for him and her younger sister, rent a maid and send Kasumi to study medicine abroad! She could relocate and turn into a Hong Kong and Hollywood stuntwoman! It wasn't fair to let others put themselves at jeopardy if she could
 easily withstand and mend ordinary forms of damage. Perhaps she could become a hostage negotiator? No, that was for later. She didn't have the trai... "What the fuck is this!?!?"  
  
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Urd rested her head on her hands. "The auto-stabilisers barely managed to handle that. The girl is experienced in circumventing any signs of scruples."  
"Oui, but I wonder something: If she was intended to freely switch guises, what was the point of the previous trouble?"
"...Fun?"  
"So you lost track again?"  
"Don't ask a question that you already know the answer to."  
"...Be that as it may. I'm concerned about the ethics of this endeavour."  
"Oh?"
"We are not supposed to force people to follow our path, simply enlighten or inspire them."  
"Whereas the opposition feels no such compunctions whatsoever, disdainfully calls your lessons of kindness ‘self-righteous preaching’, while gladly doing the same in the reverse direction, and any vastly more severe violations are somehow deemed fully acceptable in comparison?"  
"Oui, that is our cross to bear, or it will all become meaningless. The road to perdition..."  
"...Is most definitely paved with bad intentions... I should know. That citation can either be read as a passivity-inducing precaution, or as cynical propaganda for even greater amounts of murderous ruthlessness instead of trying the alternatives. 'A clever saying does not prove a point, including this one.' "  
Peorth allowed herself a fond smile. "That's a mishmash of different quotes, and you're enough of a hypocrite to attempt to justify your own 'dirty hands for my greater good' by lambasting that very philosophy."  
"Allegories are not remotely facts, quotable or not, and I didn't say that I either completely disagreed with the precaution, or minded to get my hands dirty, if it seems like the best solution. I just don't buy into either absolute. Especially not the implication that benevolence is worse than malevolence... Don't worry though; as you've seen, she can fight down her reinforced impulses, but no longer ignore them. I've simply allowed her a truly two-ended viewpoint, instead of remaining an 'emotional cripple'."  
"So you've turned her into a schizophrenic?"
"No, 'mood-swings' might be more accurate. It could turn amusing to watch."  
"And your formula differs from giving a drug addict 10 pounds of cocaine and saying “You're on your own”?"  
"Yes. Her running program will help her learn to alleviate the tension from access to genuine power."  
"So what gives you the right to interfere?"  
"What gives anyone the right to do anything? I see her as a career criminal who is finally caught and given an enormous gift, and a chance for redemption, on the provision that she doesn't terrorise people. The downside is that it takes far greater strength to successfully carry a sincere conscience than to discard it, and if she gives in to her basest nature and goes too far, a failsafe ensures that she instantly looses the advantage. Accidentally letting lose one terror on the world was quite enough, thank you, and even without completely running amok she's still going to be much better off than before."  
"Combined positive and negative reinforcement, which eventually gives her equilibrium somewhere in the middle, but constant awareness of the edges, much like yourself?"  
"Except that I was born into my yoke, that this is much better than she deserves, and is an infinitely lighter burden to wear."  
"Your angel has turned more white than black Urd, but it was your choice to make."  
"Yes and no. I was influenced and inspired by my mostly one-sided surroundings like everyone else. We all get heavily conditioned. It's just about if you're willing to work with that, be content to let your virtues lose all merits by opposing propaganda, simply stick to technical evaluation results, or, as in this case, attempt to 'deprogram' others, which of course is also a concept relative to your nature and viewpoint. She still has a choice, but has to take both sides into account... Now, if you're quite satisfied, as a final touch..." Her face took a gleeful, terrifying bent. "...I'll show you an authentic mind-fuck!"   
 
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Nabiki once again sat down at the desk to collect her thoughts. What was wrong with her today? It was almost like that recent incongruous nightmare where she used all her earnings to pay her father's bills and somehow managed to be jealous that her diligent, but flustered kid sister was so 'popular' and 'spoiled' due to the boys attacking her every morning. Nabiki herself took the role of a woefully inadequate, pitiful, dateless romantic, who waited for someone to 'rescue her from her fate' and 'ice-queen facade'. Pshaw, as if she'd ever need to rely on anyone else for that, or didn't need to keep her suitors away with a shovel. Her only 'facades' were the ones she simulated to fleece them for everything they were worth. The very notions filled her with enough contempt to actually recall the particulars after she awakened. Only... curiously everyone had called her Nanami Jinnai...  
 
No scratch that, this was even worse! It was a once in a lifetime occasion, but she was turning into her pointlessly self-neglecting elder sister. She replicated her features and took on a vacuous expression, while wearing a tiara, a sailor skirt and holding a golden baton... with a small vacuum cleaner at the end? "Wheee! I'm Kasumi the magic girl! I'm going to make the world a better place through rainbows, happy thoughts, sunshine, hugs, and cotton candy, and will die a bitter, unfulfilled spinster... since the world... doesn't... work... for... stupid... fucking... martyrs! Aaaaah!"   
 
She struck the desk hard enough to send a few of the spread about photographs into the air. (Right ...Kodachi's collection. Routine is good to get out of my funk. If I'm suddenly too touchy-feely to truly expand my repertoire, at least I can stick to habit.)  
She shifted back and inspected the images of Ranma in action. Doing a one hand stand, working out, training with his father... (The useless, pathetic, obnoxious, undignified, idiotic jock. Good for nothing but aimlessly running around, hitting things, taking up space, eating my food, and making a disgraceful fool of himself, or herself, whichever the case may be. At least he's good for entertainment and embarrassingly easy to manipulate. People like him are asking to be used like the cattle they are. How can Akane or any of the other idiotic, puerile brats ever find him fascinating? Why that... yes, perhaps there is something alluring in his demeanour. Why couldn't I see that before? He's so strong! So healthy! So kind! So forceful! I wish he'd enter on a white horse and save me from my loneliness! He'd take me in his arms and hold me forever! I need him! I want to comfort him, and snuggle him, and support him, and love him, and help him, and heal him,
 and save him from all the troubles of the world!) Several minutes of passionate fantasies soon followed.   
 
Nabiki eventually woke up from her trance, and began to wipe the sweat and drool off her face. This wasn't so bad after all. So maybe she seemed a bit more guilt-ridden than usual, but this wonderful new feeling easily more than compensated it. Nabiki licked her lips in anticipation as she catalogued all the new exciting ways she could use to catch her boyfriend-to-be. Ranma had yet to come home to recover from his previous ordeal. Ryoga had likely managed to carry him a few hours of travel-time away from the dojo. She smirked, opened the door, and went out to prepare a proper welcoming ceremony.  
  
"And just when I thought this couldn't turn more bizarre. You've shifted her attitude towards him 180 degrees from its usual direction. “Spring Of Drowned Kitsune”... “Twins”... “Virtuous Woman”'... And now “Utterly Devoted Wife”... To be imprinted on the first man she sees?! ...Sometimes you genuinely frighten me Urd."  
"Hah! And don't you forget it!"  
"And what fell outside this pattern..."
"...Were tweaked or supercharged reminiscent enchantments, or empowered by the wish itself, and remnant raw Jusendo magic."  
"Along with a database filled with specified talents, erotic expertise, and many notable faces and demeanours including our own?"  
"It would be a shame to let her remain an amateur."  
"So what if her father, or Genma had entered her room?"  
"...I don't want to imagine it."
"Nevertheless, this outrageous travesty was bad enough. I'm putting you on 'observe but don't touch' restriction. No more wishes, no dreams, no descent to lower planes, no direct interference whatsoever! They'll have to manage on their own. You're most definitely out of the picture."  
"I can live with that." (...Since you didn't mention any routine causality tuning, and given that you're nosy enough to relent yet ... Come to think of it, is any of that water still around?)  
  
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Coming up:
Ranma goes into sex therapy.
 
 
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Rub-a-dub-dub. Your brain is in the tub
 
 
Ranma sat alone in the large Tendo bath, nursing his wounds. He was tired of the attractive women trying to conquer him through forceful brutality. At the same time, especially at his age, it was hard not to become enticed by so many young gorgeous females showing him attention... but he didn’t get any release! If he so much as cuddled with any of them it would immediately bring immense obligations and might kill them both. He had mostly avoided resolving the predicament out of jumbled sympathy for hurt feelings, general indecisiveness and since it boosted his self-esteem, but when his own wedding was disrupted it had become clear that he couldn’t keep on indefinitely. He took a deep breath, tried to push away his frustrations, and savoured his one moment of calm solitude.   
  
(…Something isn’t right.) A faint, melodious titter barely registered through his sensitive ears. The water of the tub started to swirl and exert pressure toward his skin. Streams began to climb his chest and back and softly massaged aching muscles. Ok, that was weird, but oddly relaxing at the same time. Soft rhythmic caresses were simultaneously delivered on his legs, stomach, arms, chest, back… and some very peculiar movements were applied to his groin and quickly swelling member. He caught a faint puff and a nibble on his left ear, then felt a gentle kiss on his mouth, a lick on his chest… This had gone far enough. “Show yourself!“  
 
Several water-pillars rose and coalesced into patterns, taking familiar, feminine crystalline shapes, to reveal emerging dripping wet bodies underneath. ”Shampoo?” ”Ucchan?” ”Kodachi?” ”Akane?!” ”Hinako?!” ”Kasumi?!?” ”Kiima?!?!” ”Haabu-chan?!?!?” Wait a moment, Akane's chest wasn't that big and her expression and posture made her look more elegant, seductive and feminine than he had ever seen her, similar to that one time when she had been possessed by a cursed doll. Also, Kiima looked wholly human, without the characteristic talons and why would she, Hinako, Kasumi or especially Haabu-chan ever have an interest in him? He had possessed an idle daydream or two about them over the months, but this didn't make any sense. Were any of their skins ever so lustrously creamy-smooth? There almost seemed to be an unnatural allure to them.    
  
Akane broke off his thoughts by pressing her chest against his own and giving him a full kiss on the mouth. Her lips were small and soft with a hint of strawberry taste. Her touch made satins seem rough in comparison. Her breasts were firm, round and perfectly proportioned. This was an Akane he had barely dreamed about. She added tongue, while Shampoo and Ukyo gigglingly pressed themselves against his sides and directed his paralysed arms towards Akane's delicate back to grasp her wonderful body towards his own. Kasumi, Kodachi and Hinako straddled his legs in positions of adulation and began to teasingly stroke, kiss and blow at his manhood, to finally place it between their bosoms and lick it with their tongues, expertly keeping him on the edge.    
  
”Raanmmaaa“ Akane panted in his ear. ”Isn't this nice?”   
His inhibitions were quickly breaking apart.   
”Isn't this what you've always dreamed about?”   
He was filled with lust and ground himself against Akane, while Shampoo & Ukyo massaged, licked and caressed his body, Kasumi, Kodachi and Hinako played his member like a violin, while and Kiima and Haabu-chan gave him an impassioned show in the background.   
”Everyone getting along... Showing how much we care for you?” Her voice sounded husky and melodious.   
”Nobody hurting or condemning you.” There was something wrong with her smell too. It was too sweet... He felt more intoxicated than he should... “I like you sooo much.“   
He reflexively tried to mount her. She casually avoided the attempt, smiled sweetly and massaged his manhood between her legs and butt cheeks, while the others continued their ministrations.   
”Do you like me?” Her deep, beautiful eyes looked into his. He felt like he was drowning. There was something wrong wasn't there? He couldn't remember. It couldn't have been anything important.   
”Just lie back and relax dear.” He went limp and fell to his back.   
”We'll take care of everything.” All of them descended on him. Slick as oil, smoother than silk, soft as feathers.   
”We want you so badly.” Grinding. Stroking. Nursing. Hugging. Kissing. Licking. Panting. Blowing. Moaning. Giggling.   
”Let us worship you.” All delivered in a coordinated erotic dance, simultaneously exploring every crevasse of his body. It was almost too much to take in.   
 
They soon began to take turns with different functions. Shampoo was currently making love to him with the rhythmic, sensual stomach movements of an erotic dancer, her arms above her head and magnificent globes swaying enchantingly. Kasumi was holding his head in her lap while massaging his shoulders and whispering words of comfort. Hinako was rubbing her smooth, mature, feminine body against his left side and nursing his face with her generous bodice. Akane handled the right, with light breaths and intimate kisses across his throat, ear, face and mouth. Kodachi and Ukyo were each grasping one of his arms towards their chests, fingers intertwined with his and nibbling one at a time, while locking his eyes with teasing, lust-filled, knowing looks, goading him to desperately buck his hips to gain release. In the background Kiima and Haabu-chan continued their love play, water splashing across their naked bodies.   
  
Comfort, vulnerability, confidence, need and satisfaction were all constantly replenished, and somehow his endurance was sustained many times longer than he had thought was possible. How long had it been now? Hours? Days? How come nobody had noticed?   
In effect his repressed tensions, pain, fear, shame, mental shields, and inhibitions were quickly breaking apart, and, without awareness why, tears began to stream down his face. Finally all that remained was the continuous lovemaking and a dedication to the lovely, alluring women surrounding him. He frenziedly pumped and clutched and rubbed them against himself until they all seemed to melt together into one primal woman who embodied everything he desired. Then continued to grind against her until his mind went blank.   
”Ranma”   
”Hhhhhh”
”Who am I?”   
”Nn...Nuh...Nabiki”   
”Do you love me?”   
”Y...yes.”   
”Good boy. I love you too. Now rest.”   
He slept peacefully against her bosom, without noticing that the bathroom had long since somehow been replaced by an expansive bed.  
 
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”What is it with me and these weird dreams?” Ranma let his eyes wander. He was surrounded by... well, nothing... literally. He lay on pink silk linens, on a sizeable bed, with white space in all directions.  ”And where am I anyway?” Someone very soft was cradling his torso and playing with his hair. (Uh-oh)  
"If you don't like the scenery, I could always improve on it." Lush, exotic vegetation and shrill birdcalls instantly replaced the void. Ranma reflexively reached out to touch an overhanging leaf, but his hand passed through, as if a mirage in the desert. ”Good morning sleepyhead.” Nabiki smiled lovingly. There was something soft in her eyes.   
He shuddered. ”Cut that out! It's unnatural to see you make that kind of face.”   
She raised an eyebrow. ”What kind of face would that be? This one?” Akane kissed him on the cheek. ”Or this one?” His red-haired female counterpart beamed at him, then shifted back to normal.   
”How the fuck?!”   
”No idea, don't care, and how not?” She winked at him.   
”You mean we... all of that... I thought it was just...”   
”Nope. We must have covered most of the Kama-Sutra.”   
”Oh kami! What have I done? They're going to kill me... How could I lose control... That shouldn't be... You messed with my mind!!!”   
”Well... yeah. Sorry 'bout that.” Her smug expression disclosed that she was anything but.   
”You bitch!! You ruthless, twisted, evil...” Ranma was quickly getting more and more worked up.   
Ok, Nabiki had expected that something like this would happen. Now, she could either vainly try to convince him why she believed it to be therapeutic... Oorrrrr she could play along and encourage it, as a cathartic event to get the anger and shame out of his system and convert it into further passion and devotion for herself.   
  
She rested her back between his knees, head on his stomach, yawned and loosely stretched her arms over his neck. A mental hint made sure that he unconsciously began to give her a massage. ”I used you again without caring about the damage.”   
His hands were currently kneading her shoulders. ”Ooh that’s so nice.” She made biting motions towards his fingers. ”Is it my fault that you're so easy to manipulate?” She gave him a condescending smirk and rubbed against his inevitable hard-on. “So easy.”   
While Nabiki verbally goaded his already wounded self-esteem, another section of her awareness concurrently unbolted the floodgates keeping his rage under control. And to give him an extra push: ”You're just a little puppet running around for my amusement.”   
That arrogant, heartless witch! He had saved her life several times. He had it much worse than her to start with but still sacrificed himself...and she always treated him like a worthless... thing to torture and humiliate!   
Nabiki flexed her stomach forward, rose and stretched sinuously, showing off her glorious alabaster form. She faced away from him and preened her behind. ”Just stand there impotently. A real man would show me in my place... Oops, I forgot...You're just half a man aren't you? Or half a boy more like it.” She chuckled and significantly looked back towards his still inflated crotch.  
  
What an infuriating woman, he wanted to hit her, strangle her, subjugate her… dominate her. Nabiki continued to briskly encourage more emotional responses to raise action from his wounded pride.   
”I'll show you who's a man.” He roughly grabbed hold of her midsection and began to slam her doggie-style.   
”Is that man enough, you bitch?”   
”Ahn. Yes! I'm a naughty girl. Just make love to me!” She moaned and gurgled in pleasure to further egg on his baser instincts. ”Ahn! Harder! Aahn. Faster! Oh! Oooh. Aaahnn!”   
He'd prove himself to this uppity female! ”I'll give you hard and fast!”   
”Yes! Punish me!” Before her transformation Nabiki's body wouldn't have been able to withstand this level of exertion from the superhuman martial artist. However, in her current fluid state, Ranma would have had trouble causing damage if he tried.
”No damn it!” He suddenly pushed her away. ”I won't let you use me like this again!”   
She replaced the bed with a spacious and shallow pool, nourished by a miniature flowing waterfall. She rested her shoulders against the smooth, curved edge, modified to polished Jacuzzi marble. Her skin glistened with condensed steam. She flexed her stomach, and pressed her backside up and down against the border, eyes ajar and arms bent backward, with longing and bliss radiating from her face. ”Play with me Ranma.” Her arms wandered as she massaged and stroked her stomach, legs, arms and breasts, her body quivering in fervour. The humid atmosphere, purling liquid and encircling flora all implored to give in to nature, let go of civilisation and embrace the nymph in front of him.
”It's no use!”
”Giggle” She held his gaze, eyes sparkling with mischief and lust. The perfected, sensual Akane of his dreams continued uninterrupted, fondling the massive globes and kissing a hardened nipple.  
”Don't use her face!” He barely managed to shut his eyes.   
She grinned in delight. (Nice try.)  
 
”Giggle” (That was Akane's voice!) ”Nhnn! Take me. Ah-heh. Take me. Ahn. Nhn. Ooh. Ahnn!” 
An identical series of moans and pants merged with the first. It was swiftly joined by another, touched by a fourth, connected with a fifth and continued to rapidly blend with new additions until he was surrounded by an discordant choir of the yearning gasps of his beloved. Successively replaced by the sounds of forceful caresses, splashing water and passionate kisses. As slick wet female bodies desperately rubbed against one another to gain relief. Their lovemaking encased him with only inches to spare on all sides. He could sense their proximity, smell their perspiration, and touch the air from their movements and breaths. An involuntary spasm would let him feel Akane’s velvety skin against his own. Sweat ran down Ranma’s brow as he strained to keep still. Unconsciously his eyelids slowly began to open.   
 
The Akane in front of him steadily grew more distinct. A duplicate kneaded her shoulders while she rested against her bosom. Two other copies embraced her from either sides, and they collectively engaged in a three-way kiss. All around them a virtual sea of pairs were passionately intermingling with one another. Seemingly unaware of his attention she naturally began to play with herself. In and out, ever so slowly… tensing in pleasure… flexible back and forth tummy motions… in and out… panting and crouching her back. She caught his gaze, and held it while progressing unabated, as her two companions were straddling her legs.
Transfixed, he mechanically masturbated in rhythm with her movements.
Biting her lower lip she leisurely speeded up the pace, tight rapid breaths and lustfully nibbling at her free hand. Unnaturally agile, she languorously stretched one of her legs and began to stroke and lick it, with eager help from her attendants, never missing a beat down below or loosing eye contact, shivering and moaning Ranma's name in complete adulation. She increased his hormone level until the lust couldn’t be contained and broke his paralysis.   
His last resistance overcome, Ranma once again mounted her, hammering, kissing and stroking Akane's likeness in abandon, anger and shame, as her replicas enthusiastically ground against him from all directions.
 
She kept egging him on, with sensual movements and positions of worship mixed with insatiable aggressive lust, as they embraced, gyrated and wrestled through the ocean of soft female bodies. Nerve strokes and pheromone emissions calculated to maximise pleasure. Ever demanding more and more until Ranma, finally, had nothing left to give. Unrelenting she assaulted him with pleasure from all fronts as virtually every outer area of his body was simultaneously encased in and explored by dozens of devoted Akanes until well after he finally passed out.  
Dominated, but spent of all care, he supported his head in her lap, arms reflexively clutching her waist, and restlessly mumbled her names in his sleep.
 
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Coming up:
Mutual brainwashing may not be the best foundation for a stable relationship.
 
 
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Bonding, bondage, what’s the difference?
 
 
Over a day later, if time was indeed a factor in this place, Ranma once again stood up from the pink-sheeted bed, physically recuperated from the ordeal. He sighed. This was a lot of change to digest and adjust to during such a short amount of time, as if his life wasn't already problematic enough. He stared down at his tormentor / admirer / stalker / lover / enchantress / captor / object of desire / beloved / girlfriend. She was wrapped in linens and holding her legs, expectantly observing him as if she depended on what he would say. Oddly enough she seemed almost as bewildered as he felt. "Do you have to wear her face all the time?"
She blinked. "I don't know. Don't you like it better?"
"I'm not sure. I think you've 'out-Akane'd' Akane, Ucchan, Shampoo... all of them, even Kasumi. I'm not sure what I like."
Her darling was so handsome. (Oh right, become a domesticated, simpering milksop! You go girl!) "I redirected your feelings for them to me through the imprinting overload? Yeah that was part of the idea."
"You're not really them, but when I try to think of Akane I think of you. You seem much more like her than she does, and I want you and need you, but don't trust you at all and should hate you for doing this. That's the best way I can say it. Turn back and I'll check if I want to beat you up or not."
(He's still distressed. Blast it!) She did as instructed, but maintained her improved exterior, and tried to assume a gentle allure. "For what it's worth, I had this thrown on me even more suddenly. I was sitting in my room minding my own business, when I suddenly gained these abilities, felt a big pang of conscience and a deep affection for you."
He gazed into half-lidded, tender, hungry eyes, hidden beneath thick eyelashes. Radiating absolute acceptance and faith. He was drowning. Curse the witch for being so lovely! She had him in a leash and knew it. "Uh-huh, yeah, great. I believe you! What's the real story? Did someone die and give me the money?"
Nabiki faltered, but tried to regain her composure. "Hey, lack of plausibility notwithstanding, I was telling the truth... well, almost."
She looked sad. He wanted to comfort her small sleek frame against his own until everything was all right. (No! Don't let her trick you!) "Yeah, I bet. You just had this sudden urge to force me to adore you, dump Akane and screw up our lives, and got all the right tools for it at the same time. Oh, and you're not the evil psycho who sold me as a prostitute to pay a gambling debt, framed me for rape for fun, screwed up my wedding by sending notices to every lunatic I know, tried to marry me off to Kodachi for 6350 Yen, permanently sicked Kuno on me by hinting that I had enslaved “the pigtailed girl”, and sells my nudie prints all over the world without even giving me any money, even though I've saved your life twice! Because you turned over a new leaf all of 15 minutes ago!"
She recoiled as if stung. (That hurt! This random sentimentality is destroying me!) "Ok, honestly then. Remember my brief trip abroad? I ordered some very special Jusenkyo water, but it blew up in my face and didn't quite work as planned. I think the guide may have purposely contaminated it."
Could anyone so delicate be genuinely bad? "Yeah, you're just making new friends everywhere. So what now?"
(I rub and soothe you, until you trust me! ...Oh gag!) "First I'm going to get us back home so we can eat some breakfast. Then we're switching the engagement back to me, and after that we'll see what happens. Sounds good?"
"No."
She sighed. (That's us... the not so happy couple.) "I was afraid so. Back to the drawing board."
 
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Time had gone by at a slower rate than Nabiki expected while inside her displacement zone. She had predicted that the days spent there would equal around 14 hours outside, but she evidently still needed training as only half as many had passed. The clock showed 12 p.m., more than late enough for everyone to be soundly asleep in the early bird Tendo household.
There was a note from Kasumi on the kitchen table. It mentioned that she couldn't find either of them anywhere in the residence and nobody knew where they could be, but she had readied two bento boxes from the dinner in case they came back, despite Mister Saotome's protests.
They both ate in uncomfortable silence, neither entirely sure how to reacclimatize to everyday life, or being particularly tired after so many hours of sleep.
"Do you want to take a walk?" Nabiki realised that she had been the one who had spoken.
"Where to?"
"I don't know. Nowhere, anywhere, see where we end up. Does it matter?"
"I guess not." He abruptly stood up. "All right, whatever you say."
They went out the kitchen entrance. A luminescent arc was reflected in the pond. In the silent darkness and dim pale light the classic garden turned vaguely bewitching.
"Shall we?" She offered him her arms.
"Sure." He put an arm each under her knees and shoulders and heaved her up with all the effort it would take a normal man to lift a feather. He took a giant leap across the plot and another on top of the surrounding fortification, then proceeded to swiftly traverse the spans separating the suburb rooftops, smoothly touching down without discernible sounds or shocks of impact, leaving any tiles in the same condition that he found them.
Nabiki had sometimes wondered how this could be possible; the honed, shock-absorbing movements of a cat emulated and refined through intense training and instinctively gauged for exacting force and direction? No, more likely a combination of the above and another of those 'chi-things' which made no sense, but she nonetheless appreciated, since they made the world a more interesting place, and had given her the embodied might of Jusenkyo at her fingertips.
 
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They landed by a low fence overlooking a small canal. Nabiki recognised this route. She had passed it some times when bruised up as a child, to visit Doctor Tofu, the family's chiropractor, acupuncturist, and expert in herbal medicine. When possible her father had preferred traditional methods to modern physicians. In lack of anything better to do, she looked down into the water and waited. He obviously wanted to get something out of his system.
To the left of her, Ranma was perched on top of the railing. "Akane pushed me down from here you know..." He grew silent again.
Nabiki saw fit to let him continue interrupted.
"I told her that I liked her shorter hair better, but she thought I was just trying to cheer her up..."
More silence.
"She couldn't believe anyone would think she was cute, but was really happy that I tried..."
"So why did she put you in the water?"
"Everything turned too serious, too fast, and I was ashamed about getting it cut during the fight."
"So?"
"She loosened up the moment and said that it made us even... It worked too. We never brought it up again."
"Until now?"
"Yeah."
Nabiki considered this, and casually gave him a shove.
"Whoah!" (...Wait a minute... I'm not wet?) He looked down and found himself nestled on a large shovel, protruding from Nabiki's right arm.
She batted an eyelid. "Fake out." And put him down where he left. "Lightened up enough?"
"...A bit."
 
(Ok, time to spin this along another track.) "I get what you're trying to say though... You don't want to make any plans, take your time to see what this means and then go from there, just like with Akane, right?"
"I don't know. Maybe."
"Well, you don't have the luxury anymore. We're already way past any bases you've covered earlier, I've spoiled you for other women, and if I'm completely dedicated to you I expect the same in return."
"You don't understand. She risked her life for me lots of times. She's even traded it off. She always worried for me. I can't just throw her away like trash!"
"So stringing her along is fairer?"
"No... but maybe I can get past this and start again, if we don't tell anyone?"
(Uh-oh! Think fast!) "It wouldn't work. As you said earlier, when you try to think of her you think of me. You don't really feel anything for her anymore. You just remember the sensation and want that back. You'd expect things from her that she could never satisfy. She might whack you if you even tried an innocent kiss."
"...I don't think that's true. She's a sweet girl towards almost everyone. I'm just such a bigmouth that I always hurt her..."
"So she clobbers you?"
"Only sometimes when I'm being a real jerk, and only because she knows I can take much worse. She never hits anyone except Kuno and me. Being punted doesn't hurt me. She hates bullies and always tries to help people who can't defend themselves."
"Like those attackers every morning?"
"That was self-defence and long ago, and all of them got up healthy to do it over the next day. Besides, even Ucchan regularly beats me up for just embarrassing her. She's even thrown bombs or those weird spatula darts at me, and she's the nicest of the rest by far. Akane is just around me a lot more."
"Yeah, ok, so she usually doesn't actually hurt you, but you're still keeping each other way too high-strung, what about that battle-dougi? You were so fixated on beating her that you were willing to throw away your relationship, and when she found out she turned so mad that she stomped you into the ground and strongly considered not giving you another chance, without listening to explanations."
"She was really happy when I told her that I... liked her. She didn't mind not being strong anymore, and felt really betrayed when she thought I played around with her. I had to prove myself to fix it."
"Like you want to play around with her now?" (This is almost too easy.)
"...No."
"You still don't get it. Akane is great towards everyone except people who assault her, you and Kuno-chan. What does being compared to them tell you!? You're usually too foot-in-mouth to clear anything up the easy way."
"We can rely on each other 100 percent!"
"Yeah, but that's not enough, or you'd be married to Ryoga. You have to be comfortable too."
"Like I'm so comfortable with you? Besides, what gives you the right to judge that I wasn't?"
"Well, you're not a masochist and you were turning more edgy with time, not less."
"That's not true ...the last part."
(Gotcha!) "In any case, it doesn't matter what might have been, just what is. Sometimes life just happens to us and we have to deal with it."
"You happened to me!"
"Through no design of my own. How about this; we keep quiet for awhile, you check if you can still continue as it was, while we go out on some dates and get to know each other to compare?" (...Where I continue to serial-seduce and gradually domesticate you.) "I'll even sign a basic non disclosure agreement to never reveal anything on my own without your consent. That's like swearing on your mother's life for me." (Your mother's life that is… though I’m a tad attached to her, even if she is a fruitcake)
"That sounds... fair."
 
(Yes! Eat my dust baby sis! ...I really shouldn't try to force him like this. Shut up! ...That's no way to treat someone I claim to care about. Shut up! ...I should let him decide for himself. Shut. The. Fuck. Up! ...Great, now I'm either sounding like a martyr or a spastic retard.) She steadied her features. "So, while we're here, and since everyone's asleep, do you want to take a swim?"
(Did her face tremble for a moment?) "I would change you know."
"I could probably create a water-proof membrane..."
"No! No... I don't want to wear you too."
"Who says you're not?" Her straight-faced expression seemed utterly sincere. Ranma froze up. "...Just kidding! Kidding! Don't worry! ...Seriously, I don't mind. I've never liked girls as such, but I accept you as you are. " (Funny, I actually meant that.)
 
He didn't reply, but nodded towards her and dove in.
Nabiki auto-switched to a modest swimsuit and immediately followed.
As she didn't surface immediately, Ranma-chan submerged to check for any signs of movements. (It's too dark, training or not... huh!) A mirror of her face grinned just inches away. She was pointing down at something. "Whoulp!" Ranma inadvertently gulped, as a dolphin rose from the depth, lifting her on its back. Two others quickly emerged, a mermaid version of herself and Nabiki respectively balancing atop each of them.
"Does the carriage satisfy your lordship?" Nabiki teased.
The red-haired semi-copy nudged Ranma with one of her elbows, while keeping steady with the other. "Race you?"
Ranma blew her mouthful of water into the replica's face. "Nah, you've stacked all the ballots."
"Hah! True! There's hope for you yet." She and the dolphins briefly turned identical to the original, winked, rippled, and then disappeared.
The remaining Nabiki swam over. "This isn't as easy as it looks." She raised an eyebrow and the fishtail disappeared. "Let me try something." She held one of Ranma's hands in her own and tried to concentrate. It suddenly felt much larger. "I thought so." She gave him a kiss on the mouth. "I may accept you as you are, but I still prefer you for who you really are." (Gotcha again!)
Ranma looked nonplussed. "How did you do that?"
"I figured that since my curse magic is so much stronger, under my control, and involves healing and restoration, I might be able to override yours."
"You mean that I'm cured?"
"No, just when I touch you." She let go of his... now her, hand. "See?" Then grasped it again and switched him back.
"That's still... great... really."
"Anything for you dearest." (I could likely make it permanent if I really tried, but where's the fun in that? Never provide a cure when you can supply a prescription! This way you'll have to depend on me. There's no way I'm letting you go back to that brat! Never! ...No, I really should try to help him honestly. He will appreciate the gesture for what it is... Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up! I'm not some fucking bleeding heart apostle for the creed of professional whining! Nice girls finish last, and never forget it!) She closed her eyes, focused and enforced a smooth, bland smile.
"Huh? You frowned again."
"Nothing to worry about darling, just a persistent itch. Perhaps it's time to go dry off again?"
 
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They once more leaned against the railing facing the waterway. Ranma was still drenched, but Nabiki had wisely avoided offering any dry clothes.
Ranma was attempting to stutter out some words of appreciation. "...That was really ...decent ...back there... maybe you're not such a chilling horror anymore ...seriously ...thanks." Though he obviously still wasn't very used to or comfortable with the concept of not doing so backhandedly.
She ignored the slip-up and grabbed his arm. "See? You'll have to learn to trust me more. I really want what's best for you."
"And at least you can pose for your own prints now, right?"
(Though I'll have to do something about your appallingly deficient small-scale thinking.) "Whatever you say dear. Is there anything else I can help you with, like wiping out that Amazon village for sending terrorists to Japanese soil or neutering mister bacon as a first warning?"
Ranma looked horrified. "You're kidding right? They're not terrorists, and why would I want to wipe out hundreds of innocents? Ryoga has helped me out big or saved mine or Akane's lives quite a few of times and usually isn't such a bad guy, and he's got it bad enough as it is."
"Repeated murder attempts on native citizens by a sect of secluded zealots. It smells terrorist to me."
"No just crooks, and it's a private thing. I didn't check that they had a bunch of loony laws to trap husbands and keep a reputation. Shampoo has a major cruel streak, but she was punished with a curse when she wouldn't carry through."
"And if she killed Akane?"
"I'd dump her off in jail."
"And if Cologne got involved?"
"She's the one keeping Shampoo in check, not the other way around. She didn't really care if I married Akane, and I think she likes it better here, so she's not much of a stickler for tradition anymore, but ok, I'd give Happosai some photos to help me out."
 
"And if Ryoga's so honourable why is the piggy sleeping with Akane?"
"He keeps her safe and happy, even though she's so edgy that she beats him up in her sleep every night. He even fought Happosai as a piglet to protect her."
"Uh-huh, no lecherous reasons at all. Riiiiiiight."
"Are we talking about the same guy? He's the most easily embarrassed guy I've ever met. He's so lonely that a smile will make him cover Akane with presents. A hug makes him pass out. Peeping on her was the most horrible thing he could come up with when an oni possessed him, and he was really ashamed afterwards. He wouldn’t even enter the girls’ locker room for a Jusenkyo cure."
"He's a pathetic, moronic, self-pitying, indulgent little cry-baby whiner, who challenged you to a duel for some bread crumbs, got himself cursed and blamed you for his own mistakes! Sob story alert! Boo-hoo, I have cancer!"
"He's always lost in the wild without any comforts at all, and whenever it rains he turns into a snack for any hunter or animal that sees him. My problems are nothing compared to that, and he's way tougher about it than you would be. He couldn't even find his way home from school without help. I took away his one steady meal, even though I knew that. I would have thrown a challenge too after a while. He wandered for days to get there, and I still let Genma drag me away. So he had to track me down, but didn't know about the springs, and I didn't look where I was going, and pretty much destroyed his life. I’d say he had really major reasons for a grudge, and he still only beat me up all those times he won. Big deal if he turns completely loyal by some hugs from Akane. I had messed things up enough already. He’s only a little brother to her, and he's got a girlfriend of his own now. Besides, I owe him big, he's saved me more times, and I only really
 returned the favour once that I recall." Ranma exhaled, slightly out of breath.
 
(Whoa... Someone has a serious guilt-trip.) She gave him a reassuring hug. "I'm sorry about that dear, but I had to provoke you to check where you stood. Never mind Ryoga. I also think he's harmless, and of course I'd never want to hurt any innocent people, but the Amazons are all dangerous. Couldn't I try to deport them and send the Kunos to an asylum or something?" (If I gave Kuno-chan one of my copies as a girlfriend she could instigate a family feud ...Eeeew! ...Never mind. I'm not that desperate... At least not yet.)
He was still a bit wound up, but almost recuperated. "Nah, I think Cologne has her passport papers in order for her business, and the Kunos are rich enough to behave really loony. I don't think this is as bad as you make it. If I married Akane I'd have to hold off Shampoo, Kodachi and Kuno until they gave up and moved on, but that's it, and I could beat all of them together with my arms tied. Ucchan would become really sad and probably stop being my friend, but that's it. She's damn tough. I'd feel bad about it, because I think she cares more than Akane, but she'd move on and could get any guy she wants if she really needs to. Akane and me were learning to get along. We'd have smoothed out. All of this is just a stupid snag! Yeah, I was a bit fed up, but there are no damn quick-fixes to make everything hunky-dory!"
Urd sneezed. "Whoops, another dissatisfied client... Ingrates all of them."
Nabiki was rather taken aback by all this passionate venting against her person by someone she was feeling painfully dependent on. She touched his face. (I have to turn this around. I'll have to offer him a full cure after all.) "Ranma... Sweetie... Listen to me... I can help you I really can... I'd do anything for you." (Maybe I can offer Shampoo a treatment in exchange for that formula of hers? No, I'd rather not expose my throat to her and the crone)
"Didn't you just say that loyalty is not enough?"
(Shit! Ok. Soothing pheromones... Try to bolster signs of affection and trust.) "No, really, listen... I think I can..."
 
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"Hand it over!" It was an unsteady, nervous voice tinged with intense need.
Ranma turned around. It was just 3 street punks. Torn clothes, unwashed bodies, coloured hair, some tattoos. Reddened eyes and uneasy, out of shape breaths. He didn't know if he should laugh about their choice of such a powerful and penniless 'victim', or feel compassion towards their dismal conditions.
One of them shakily brandished a firearm in his direction, while the other two wielded a blade in each hand. Stick-up authorities they weren't, but it wasn't so easy to gain access to handguns in Japan, so they must have had some contacts... their dealer perhaps?
Ranma was capable of snatching machinegun shells out of the air, so he wasn't particularly worried. The only problem would be to sufficiently restrain the force of his blows. Some crude paralysing shiatsu spot might work. They were useless on trained or moving opponents, but these were acting in slow motion to his perceptions.
"Just hand it over and nobody will get hurt!" The rifle holder pleaded.
(All right. Here I go... Huh?) Nabiki surprised him by beginning to advance while speaking in a tense, measured voice, putting stress on every word.
(Damn these creatures for disturbing my moment! They've destroyed everything!) "Listen well, you substandard brain donators." Her appearance darkened, swelled and grew scales. She took a step forward
"...You've made a deadly grave mistake." Her hands sprouted black claws and her pupils narrowed into slits, holding promises of pain and death. She took a second step.
"...And I'm about to teach you a lasting lesson not to pester your betters." Her mouth grew into a large snout, while flames flickered from her nostrils. A third step.
"...Which you will remember for the rest of your fleeting, soon to be crippled lives." She opened her massive jaws, inches from their alarmed faces, sprouting dozens of shiny red teeth.
"No!" Blam!
 
(Blast it!) Ranma berated himself. She had stepped right in front of the terrified addict, leaving himself no chance to catch the bullet. Within a second he had applied his original strategy, though it barely seemed necessary. The muggers already stood petrified out of fear, but at least this would keep them that way for another 10 minutes or so, with their minds asleep in the meantime. He anxiously looked towards Nabiki... it... whatever she was supposed to have been.
Nabiki likewise remained in the same stance, but had reverted to her usual state. (...I'm alive... But I'm sure that the bullet hit me... Straight between the eyes... I sensed how it passed through... Do I have brain damage?! Am I dying or paralysed?!)
Ranma forcefully hugged and shook her limp body. "Snap out of it! Listen to me! You're ok! There's no hole in your head! It closed up on its own!"
"...Very well." She stood up.
"What the hell were you thinking!? I could have put them out of action no problem. You could have stretched your shoe into a rope and let it wrap them up before they noticed or something. What's the big idea in freaking them out with the damn fucking pointless drama queen act?!"
 
She tuned him out. (The filthy, worthless, gutter-scum animals! They'd presume to threaten and shoot at me?! Me?! I'll show them who they're dealing with! Crippling them is not enough! I'll cut their eyes, ears and tongues out. Skin them alive and let them vainly fail to scream, cry and beg me for release of death.)
She turned around and spit in each of their faces, putting as much vehemence in the act as she could muster. "You tried to take my money and then kill me filth." (No. What I originally had in mind will have to suffice. I can blame that on self-defence.) Nabiki's eyes literally blazed with kitsune fire as her fingers lengthened into very long and extremely sharp steel razors.
"You will never stain my neighbourhood again!" She took a swipe towards the gunman's still outstretched arms. "See this as a memento to remember me by filth!"
 
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She tumbled to the ground. (Ranma pushed me away!)
He held her down. "Stop, damn it! What's the matter with you? You can't just cut the arms off people who can't defend themselves! They're not even awake!"
She blinked. (Not awake?) She briefly felt the unusual bothersome twinge of remorse, but the joint frustration, fear and battle fever enabled her to force it down. "And why not? They're vermin. It's not like the police will believe their words over ours. Especially if they're too scared to witness."
"Oh yeah, that's what I'm all about! Blood, humiliation and cries of pain when I have someone completely outmatched, just because I can!" He was trembling with fury. "I'm not some judge of life and death! If someone is in trouble I'll try to help, but I won't go for the throat if I can handle it in any other way! Especially not to helpless street punks!"
He exhaled. "I'll just leave them off for rehab at the precinct."
 
(Why am I so fixated on this naive dullard? People who don't want to exterminate their enemies are far worse than those who do! They have no excuse! A predator is just admitting his nature, while they're hypocrites who make a deliberate choice to submerge it, proud in their resolution to remain irresolute!)
She took on a slow, patronising tone, as if instructing a baby. "How do you suppose a society is built dear?"
"Teamwork, learning, ideas, growth, and some justice, happiness and safety for yourself and anyone else you care about?"
(Someone is paying more attention than he lets on. Crude, but clever, I sometimes forget that.) "No those are more products within the framework. A society is established by the drive of people who can focus strategic savagery, greed, ambition and oceans of blood to breed fear of death and respect in subjects and enemies alike. These are the driving forces of all nature and what works to forge warring factions into an empire!"
"I don't buy it. The few bastards who do that all need the inventors and managers who keep it all running. Wanting to leave everything a little better than yesterday is what makes things go around. The guys you mentioned are just mosquitoes sucking blood, and if they're taken away there's nothing to keep people together afterwards, just a lot of fear and hate waiting to explode. Besides, we've come far enough to grow above that."
"No sweetheart. Your innocence is charming, but the designation and scale are both erroneous, unless you suggest mosquitoes the size of skyscrapers. They're virtuosi of symphonies everyone else adjusts to, because they're working with the natural system not against it. If you're good enough, the masses will be enchanted into loyalty through visions of grandeur, ignore that they are afraid, be spoon-fed or goaded into deducing the truths you need them to see, and eventually independently invent personal rationales for their confederation. If you can simultaneously mobilise all suppressed dissatisfaction into hatred of genuine or imaginary external threats to expand your reach this creates unity on levels your lofty notions never could. The few who are honoured by and awe others for thousands of years in the history books are the empire-builders, those who slaughter so many people that it turns unfathomable, statistical, irrelevant and praiseworthy, not
 the creators of fireworks or the aqueduct."
"Oh yeah, we sure know how to pick our heroes. Butchers who see it as Shogi and music."
"There's no 'we' about it dear. Empire builders are in position to make sure that people remember them instead of wasting their talents for martyrdom."
 
"And this has what to do with you trying to cut off the hands of helpless punks, so they'll bleed to death or be crippled for life?"
"That nature itself declares that you should always bargain from a position of power. Morality is a redundant concept. So-called cruelty, rape, torture, persecution and abuse for fun and profit are our given dictates and unpretentious thriving condition. The only true sin is to lose confidence, become overwhelmed, and turn into a wretched, repugnant victim, who should feel even more ashamed for the woeful lack of personal pride, and hopefully go off to die in a ditch somewhere out of sight. The inevitable just punishments are prolonged suffering and fatality... and imagine the nightmare if this was not the case! Retarded, handicapped, chronically depressed or the otherwise mentally ill would breed society into an idiocratic backwater. A great, heroic human being or prominent leader is genuine and basks in her charge and influence over the lamentations and torment of anyone she damn well deems blameworthy or plain doesn't like. Never doubt, second-guess
 yourself, and let your flame burn out, or feel less than glorious. Leave that for your quarry. If someone threatens you, don't turn the other cheek and bottle up your rage to eat you from within. Find creative ways to hit him or her back at least 10 times as hard in the most sensitive spots, to make sure you keep your dignity and that people fall to their knees in shivering terror merely from the prospect of making you displeased. These are mere gutter rats. If you can't make inferior trash like them respect you, how do you suppose anyone else will?"
"Yeah, that sounds like the way a monster would think all right. It's all just about trying to be even worse than anyone else to get a free lead, making the world a worse place by being in it, and enjoying to hurt and scare others. Never mind that they might be nicer than you in other ways, or not understand what they're doing. Oh, and take care to kick the ones lowest down the food chain, who are doing it because they're desperate, extra hard, because it's a pride thing and the rabble must know their place! ...I thought this change of heart was too good to be true."
 
(You smug, self-righteous, whiny, deluded, repressed, pathetic, egalitarian, loser phoney...) Nabiki felt a tight lump of fear in her throat, mixed with an underlined tinge of queasy revulsion. (What am I doing? He'll reject me! This is just the old me spewing her usual hateful filth! That rant could just as easily been titled 'Principled, honourable, compassionate and concerned, visionary, ethical, tolerant, altruistic idealist, who strives to be good but can't manage in all areas, especially those he hasn't considered'. Is it necessary to twist and pervert all of this into terms of derision, rather than truly grasp and appreciate mankind's better virtues? ...I'll have to tone this down.)
"Look darling, I don't enjoy that the world works this way, but it does, so I have to adapt or they'll send some friends to kill me because they think I'm soft. You've tracked down prey since you were less than 6 years old. You should understand that if you kill enough wolves the rest of the flock learns to stay away."
"I hunted because sometimes it was the only way to get food or something to trade with, and because they were mostly stupid beasts who saw me as lunch. Not for sport or because it was fun to hurt and to enjoy the win with every bite of my steak. Killing instead of being clever is just lazy, and won't give them a chance to get better. Besides, I think these bozos are plenty scared as it is, not exactly a threat."
 
(You keep on telling yourself that for your beauty sleep. Higher animals are basically just incredibly stupid humans who run around driven purely by instinct. How do you figure the meat on your sandwiches is produced? Three words: Pig conveyor belts! A never-ending thousand concentration camps for billions of retarded people who are kept in narrow cages until they're butchered... And you know what? Without the manufacturing process they wouldn't even exist! Tough luck, but that's the way the system works! No sappy fairy-tale solutions, just a lot of blood, fear, greed, death, manipulation and some whiny, guilt-tripping, sanctimonious douchebag self-delusion which turns you into easy prey... Blast it! Now I'm making myself feel really sick again... I'm not a monster! I'm not a monster! I'm not a monster!)
"Yes honey, I suppose you're right, and that these guys may be pretty harmless, but what if the yakuza who gives them their fix and weapons sends someone to make a point by, say... raping and torturing your mother to death."
"If they try I'll defend her as many times it takes, but from what I've heard, if the Yakuza, or Triads, or Mafia, or whatever see you as a threat they will never ever stop, until you've killed or locked up all of them all. Scaring the higher-ups doesn't work. It only makes them try harder to defend their names. So, if the sleeping beauties there somehow have anyone to squeal to about that alien abduction show-off, you'll get less reaction by just knocking them out."
"Alien abduction?"
He shrugged. "It sort of fits."
A droll whim made her grin in delight. (All right... if he wants ingenious solutions, I'll give them to him...) "So how long until they come to again?"
"A minute or two. Give or take."
"Ok, just watch and play along with me then. You should appreciate this."
 
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She waited for a moment until the light of consciousness, such as it was, returned and they fell down as victims to the aching, quivering immobility of sleeping limbs. The bewildered trio made amusing attempts to circle their limp arms and legs back and forth to restore the blood circulation. (Did I really feel the need to maintain my dignity by taking a pound of flesh out of these stooges?)
As 3 pairs of gazes caught her own their expressions made her think of rabbits in awe of a hunting falcon. It figured. Their last recollection had been of an apparent attempt to literally bite their heads off.
 
Her skin took on a silver, shiny characteristic as she spoke in a hollow, mechanical voice. "Stealth configuration exposed! Sanitation of environment required! Shifting to default pattern!"
Metallic liquid swelled and contorted, as it took a spherical, bulky shape with no head, bandwagon piling, upper limbs traded for 8 swirling, scalpel and band-saw tipped, tentacles, enormous saw teeth in place of a stomach, and featureless, glowing, blood red eyes placed above.
"Designate nomenclature native tongue: Gorebot 2309! Function: Dismember and digest samples from local animal kingdom! Catalogue and transmit results to culture 880815-642! Hostile life forms detected! Heretofore un-sampled species! Request recovery instruction from unit handler?" She/it looked expectantly in Ranma's direction.
He managed to stifle a nervous chuckle as a cough. "It's all right. Just tell them to check into rehab right now and never do this again."
"Unit handler requests extended detoxification and indefinite lack of hostility as terms for release! Failure to comply with stated regulations will result in dismemberment and digestion! Disclosure of otherworldly involvement to local civilisation punishable to ultimate extent! Are terms acceptable?"
The terrified robbers mutely nodded.
"Regulation compliance affirmative! Progress for imminent treatment of asocial disorder! Final warning! Keep quiet and follow law or be exterminated!"
Ranma shook his head in mixed amusement and astonishment, hoisted them over his shoulders, gave her a nod, and bounced towards the precinct's police station to inform about 3 new, very treatment enthusiastic, soon to be model citizens.
 
Nabiki on her part was rolling on the ground, alternately hammering her fists against it and clutching herself in spastic laughter. Snort! She wiped the tears out of her eyes. (Oh, I give up. Mood-swings or not, that was hysterical! Whatever was I thinking? Clever bullying is so much more satisfying, and you can torment people forever instead of just disposing of them immediately! Killing is for expediency, while torture and manipulation is for pleasure. I know that already. It's practically my personal mantra. Loosing my head is so not I. Physical power easily makes you rely on it. I'll have to keep tabs on that... No, I... Shut up!)
 
Ranma touched down on the ground in front of her. He looked positively exuberant. "That was kind of cool, still a bit mean, but really cool! It's just what I'm talking about. Having fun, doing amazing stuff, and helping when you can. That's what's important. There's no need for all the gloom and doom. You get it after all!"
(Well, that's not quite what I was going for... Though most people tend to overlook what you do, if you're inspired, witty, entertaining and striking enough while doing it. Hurt someone with flair and a joke and the spectators will applaud you. Luckily I'm sane enough to use that... Oh well... it was enjoyable, and if that's what it takes...) "Yes honey. You're right of course. I planned to do that from the beginning, but they took me by surprise when I tried to comfort you, so I made a mistake... and then I was frightened and got carried away! I thought I was going to die!" She crouched her head and feigned a regretful, vulnerable and endearing expression, and a tear went down her cheek, while she mentally reinforced his conditioned reflex.
Ranma felt bad. He couldn't handle making a girl cry. (I shouldn't have yelled at her! What's wrong with me? She was just wound up! She didn't really mean any of that stuff! She's just a girl!) He nervously gestured to make her calm down. "No, no, it's ok, it's ok! ...You did all right! ...That was lots of fun!"
She hesitantly raised her face. "Really? You liked that?"
He tried to look reliable. "Yeah! ...You were great! ...We can do some more cool stuff in the future!"
She eagerly looked into his eyes. "Promise?"
"...Sure! We can go out and see what happens... You can surprise me again if you want."
"I'm so glad!" She blissfully embraced his neck and let him tentatively attempt to console her.
 
Ranma held her waist in his arm as they strolled back towards the house, basking in the silent city and the unclouded moonlight. He looked down with a wary mixture of fondness and misgivings. "880815-0642?"
"My social security number."
"Good one... You know... maybe this could work out after all."
Nabiki somehow felt warm and sheltered upon hearing the tentative words of acceptance. While not a familiar notion, she allowed herself to admit that it wasn't entirely uncomfortable. Not comparable to the utter bliss of absolute sovereignty, control, affluence and power, but still... quaint. (Yes, this might become a profitable investment after all. I'll just have to take care that darling doesn't grow too cross or bored with me. Playing together this way seems like the best way to bond. It's thrilling... Like we're two halves of a team... Perhaps I was unwise to let go of my interest in such matters?) "Just give me a chance love, that's all I ask for."
"It's just... Don't take this the wrong way! ...That'd be way down the road... But... If you don't have inside organs... doesn't that mean you can't have any children?"
"..." (Or perhaps not.)
 
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Coming up:
Backtracking time, as other cast members have been busy on their own, and the pacing moves for the highest gear, while keeping an eye out for sudden turns, or compressed swarms of wild ideas.
 
 
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