Ranma 1/2: Localization Part the Third
fanfic by Logan J. Goodhue (foxboy2000@hotmail.com)
12 June 2001
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FIRST FIC ALERT
This is an attempt at a ham-handed localization of the Ranma 1/2 story to the American Wild West. Seriously. Hey! Stop laughing! Um, wait a sec, it's supposed to be comedic... sort of. So, go ahead and laugh, enjoy any WAFF's that show up, and give me feedback, please!
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Disclaimer: Ranma 1/2 characters, etc. are Copyright and TM Rumiko Takahashi. Characters appearing in this fic who are *NOT* obviously from the Ranmaverse (or a reasonable facsimile thereof) are copyright 2001 Logan J. Goodhue, most notably Xi Mei-Ling, Master Xiao Xien, and any self insertion I can't resist putting in. (I'll try to avoid the temptation, really!) Any real people in the fic have been dead for a long time, so they don't care and are public domain/fair use, anyway.
A special note on ethnicity: In order to keep the confusion to a minimum, "Indian" in this fic refers to "Native Americans," and "Hindu/Hindi" refers to natives of India. I am attempting to be sensitive in the use of epithets, slurs, etc. (i.e., I ain't using 'em unless the CHARACTER would, and only if I can't dodge it any other way!) In the interest of fairness, most, if not all, of the tribes I will be using are made up of whole cloth, so I don't embarrass myself by having an Apache act like a Seminole or some such thing.
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White Rain gazed around the campsite and cursed softly. She'd lost that red-haired bitch's trail again. This had to be the most difficult honor quest in the history of the Naxe tribe, as well as the most annoying. It should have been easier, because the bitch didn't seem to have any woodscraft at all. She left so many scraps of cloth and broken branches in her wake that even a three-year-old could have trailed her to the ends of the earth. Yet, she still managed to throw the best tracker in history off her trail. Well, not for long, at least.
White Rain smiled to herself as she remembered her prey's weakness. Rivers, streams, and lakes seemed to make her forget that she was being trailed, and she got even more sloppy. She actually left footprints. Frowning, White Rain remembered that she always lost the trail at campsites. That nagged at something in her memory, but she couldn't place it just yet. Sighing, she began the long arcs she needed to find her prey's trail. She found what she was looking for as she stepped from the mountains and into land settled by the palefaces. The trail seemed to follow a road. Well, that was easy. Loping along in an easy, ground-chewing stride, she came upon some paleface farmers. She stopped, and hailed them.
"Where road go?" she asked in her stilted English. By the spirits, she hated how dumb she sounded in that language.
"It goes to San Francisco, Miss," one of the farmers said, removing his hat.
"Thank you," she said. Hmm, not all palefaces treat us poorly, she thought. I shall have to tell the elders when I return that we won't have to kill them all. Smirking, she trotted off to this . . . San Francisco.
"Jeb," asked the other farmer, "why did you treat her so nice? I thought you hated all them Injuns. Even if they're purty."
"I do, Clem," Jeb replied, "but you jest don't mess with the Naxe Amazons. It ain't healthy."
"What?!? The Naxe? How'd you know she was Naxe?"
"Because she had purple hair. They're all purty, but their hair is jest natcherly weird colors."
"Dayamn! Glad I didn't try to 'make her acquaintance!'"
"You and me both, Clem. You and me both."
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"So," Robin said. "What are we gonna spar in?"
"I don't know," Anne said, blinking. "What styles do you know? If we share a style, I guess we should do that."
"Hmmm. Well, Muskakur arts aren't exactly designed for simple sparring. Do you know any boxing?"
"Boxing?!? Isn't that a little unladylike?" Anne asked in disbelief.
"Savate?"
"Why would I know that? I've never been to France!"
"Shaolin Kung Fu?"
"What's that? Grrr... I guess we'd better spar in the Muskakur style." Wow, Anne thought, All that training must have paid off! She knows styles I haven't even heard of!
"Well, Muskakur fighting it is, then!" Robin said smiling. "Just let me change into something more appropriate, then I'll be right back!"
"Okay. Umm, we have a changing room and some fighting outfits in the bath house. Just take the door on the right, you can't miss it."
"All right!" Robin said while going through the door. "See ya in a bit!"
Robin closed the door behind him and made his way to the changing room. A mirror hung on one wall, and a door led to the bath. He looked in puzzlement at a large black tank. Examining it closer, he realized it was warm, and filled with water. He was happy to have found it, but was hesitant to use it. After all, Anne was expecting to spar with a girl. She might react badly to a boy suddenly walking out of the room Robin had entered.
"Tarnation!" he said. "What should I do now?"
I thought you'd never ask, a soft, feminine voice whispered in his mind.
"Show yourself!" Robin said. "Where are you?"
Why don't you look in that mirror? Soft, gentle laughter danced through his head. It's about time we were properly introduced. After all, we will be together for a very long time.
Robin cautiously went over to the mirror, looking at his reflection. What's going on? he wondered to himself. The mirror showed a beautiful redheaded girl in simple, loose buckskins. It was what he'd come to expect to see after he was doused with cold water.
Oh, good! the voice squealed. We're beautiful! You must have a good soul!
Robin was in shock. When the voice spoke, his reflection's lips moved. He moved his hand to his lips, and noticed his reflection's hand had strayed to its hip. And what was this about a good soul? Was he going crazy?
No, the voice whispered, you're not going crazy. The reflection took up a formal pose. Allow me to introduce myself. I am Maiden, your totem spirit. She curtseyed. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Robin Sayerton.
Robin gibbered a little. Totem spirit? he thought. How'd I get a totem spirit?
That's not important right now, the reflection replied gently. What's important is I give you advice on the question you asked. Do you still want to know what you should do?
Numbly, Robin nodded.
It's the easiest thing in the world, she said grandly. Tell her the truth!
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Ko Lon stepped off the junk, much to the relief of the captain. Her rolling walk accentuated every curve of her body and fluttered her long blonde hair behind her. She had been disastrous for morale on the long voyage from China to America. True, she was beautiful, but she was also one of those Amazons from Joketzoku. Thus, she took on an unseemly superior attitude, and, what was worse, she had every reason to have it.
The captain remembered when she had stepped aboard in Shanghai. Everyone had looked for her husband, to ask him what was going on. She didn't have one. She had said that she would take the first "outsider" male to defeat her in combat as her husband. Several of his crewmen had taken her up on the offer. They were still in Shanghai being treated for their injuries. The captain, having heard of her tribe, hadn't even tried. It had been a long trip. Shaking himself out of his reverie, he turned to her.
"Honored Ko Lon," he said politely. "Welcome to San Francisco. May you find what you seek."
"Thank you, Honored Captain," she said. "I know I will." Hmm, she thought, I hope I can find that pervert Happosai. He said he was on a "world tour." That means he'll come to America soon enough. Whistling softly, she strode past the wharf and into Chinatown. The streets were a little wider than she would have expected, and even though they looked a little slapdash, this street looked more prosperous than many villages she had seen. Caught in her reverie, she almost didn't notice the small gang of round-eyed demons surrounding her. Of course, they weren't really demons, but that's what she had heard everyone else call them. She was glad she had learned English, that meant this could be resolved fairly easily.
"Hey, sweet cheeks," the leader of the gang said insultingly, "how about you and me gettin' together? I can show you a 'good time!'"
"I think not," she said icily, her musical voice caressing each syllable. "Only a man who can defeat me may be my husband, and I don't think you qualify."
"Awright missy, you asked for it!" he shouted. Pulling back for a haymaker, he blinked in astonishment. She had jumped fifty feet straight up. Slack jawed, he watched as she produced two huge maces out of nowhere and proceeded to soundly thrash his entire gang. Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, he ran.
Sighing, Ko Lon put away her bonbori. She was disappointed. Was there no man who could defeat her in combat? She was sixteen, and nobody had ever defeated her in a serious fight. Was she doomed to die an old maid? Enough of that, she thought. I need to find "Happy" and recover the secret techniques he has stolen.
Leaping to the rooftops, she began her search.
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Walking past the parlor, Naomi Tendollar saw her father talking with a strange man. The stranger was huge, a veritable bear of a man, dressed in buckskins. His head was bald, but he had a bushy red beard. Her father was crying, but controlled. So, she thought, this stranger has brought Dad some good news. She continued to the kitchen, where Cassandra was preparing dinner.
"Hey, Cassie," Naomi said. "Who's the guy with dad?"
"Oh, that's Mister Sayerton, Robin's father!" Cassandra replied cheerfully.
Smirking to herself, Naomi went to her room. Someone who couldn't tell after sixteen years that he had a daughter instead of a son would be gullible enough to fall for even her simplest schemes. Life was good.
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Anne was starting to get worried. It didn't take that long to change into one of the training outfits. Is Robin all right? she thought. Maybe I should check on her.
Just then, the door to the bath house opened and Anne saw Robin come out. She had changed into an outfit that was much too big for her, and was carrying a steaming bucket. What was going on?
"Anne," Robin began, "I have a terrible secret, and I'll understand if you don't want to be my friend anymore when you know it."
"What are you talking about, Robin?" Anne asked. She was amazed. Robin already considered her a friend? That was good. She wanted to be Robin's friend. "Whatever it is, sure, I'll be your friend. I promise on my honor as a Muskakur." Anne was relieved to see her relax a little.
"I have this . . . condition. It's why I'm skittish about water. I'm going to tell you about it, but first, can we spar?" A hopeful look crossed Robin's face.
"All right," Anne said, getting into the ring. "Lets go." She stood in a ready stance, waiting.
Relief flooded the redhead's face. Doing a triple backflip Robin jumped into the ring, landing in a nearly identical ready stance.
"Showoff," Anne said with good humor. Gathering her strength, she prepared to fight. "Let's go!"
She rushed the redhead, swinging. Robin simply dodged. Anne snapped some more punches at her opponent, but they were easily dodged. She threw some kicks, and Robin backflipped out of the way.
Is she reading my moves? Anne thought. And why isn't she attacking? Right. This time, for real!
Charging, and putting all of her might into it, she blasted out a haymaker. Robin disappeared, and Anne's fist connected with the turnbuckle, destroying it. Stunned she looked at the damage she'd done, and felt a tap on her shoulder. Robin had jumped behind her, and was smiling. Hesitantly, she giggled. Anne joined her.
"Wow," Anne said. "You're pretty good. I'm just glad you're not a boy."
Robin looked like a deer just spotting a hunter. She seemed to tense up, then relaxed, getting a determined look on her face.
"Are you sure about that?" Robin asked softly.
"What's wrong?" Confused, Anne looked at Robin.
"Anne, it's my secret. I really am a boy," Robin said.
"That's ridiculous!" Anne said looking Robin over. "You definitely look like a girl to me!"
"I know," she said sadly. "Here, I'll show you."
Robin grabbed the still-steaming bucket and upended it over her head. When she did, Anne stared in shock. Where Robin had stood in ill-fitting clothes, a boy stood in well-fitting, if wet, garments. But they were the same clothes! The boy was as handsome as Robin was beautiful, and had his black hair braided into an identical pigtail.
"Wh-who are you?" Anne asked in disbelief.
"I'm Robin Sayerton," the boy replied with a sheepish grin. "Sorry 'bout this."
Anne did the only thing she could do at this point. She fainted.
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