Power Struggle
Disclaimer: Robotech belongs to Harmony Gold. Sailor Moon belongs to
Naoko Takeuchi. Oh My Goddess belongs to Kosuke Fujishima. Toltiir
belongs to Metroanime. Hitch Hikers' Guide to the Galaxy belongs to
Douglas Adams. The Teflon Cat belongs to Nekosai, while Tannim
belongs to me. Anything else that we inadvertently mention that
doesn't belong to us belongs to other people.
Writer and Editor: Tannim Murphy
Co-Writer and Ideas Man: Nekosai
Chapter One
---
It was cold. It was desolate. It was the vacuum of space.
It was also very, very boring.
Tannim Murphy, God of Cannon Fodder and Small Furry Creatures, sighed
as he witnessed the space battle before him. The battle itself was
like so many space battles he had already been a witness. Amazing
displays of aerobatics, with brief flashes of light signaling someone
had shot at someone else. Occasionally the brief flair of a fireball
indicated the end of one of the pilots.
This particular battle was one of many skirmishes between the SDF-1
and the Zendradi forces, and it was his duty to be there for it. A
couple of the other Gods of War were there, though most of them were
not the original Gods of War Tannim had grown to know and despise.
More often than not a new God would replace the old, as things changed
from one age to the next.
Tannim had a job that was everlasting. Every time some grunt on the
battlefield called out for someone, anyone, to save him, Tannim had a
believer. The nameless God the nameless soldier called out to did, in
fact, have a name. There were no shrines in his honor, no sacrifices
to his name. His was the thankless task of watching over those Idiots
and Morons about to Get Them Fool Selves Killed.
Tannim was that deity, and it was his job to make sure some person
received His Blessing. It had many names. Some people like to call
it the "the Devil's," while others called it "dumb," and some used its
original name of just plain old "luck." Whatever the name, Tannim
would save at least one fool who should have died. He never watched
over the brave, the intelligent, or the skilled; that was some other
deity's job.
Unfortunately, Tannim was also one-of-a-kind; he didn't have any
affiliation with any type of religion. He didn't discriminate against
good or evil. He also didn't have a huge power base backing him up.
And due to his strange nature, there was usually only one of him in
the entire multi-verse, aside from the occasional time paradox that
would crop up from time to time, though those usually worked
themselves out.
As such, being the only one of his kind in any dimension, Tannim had
to hop from dimension to dimension in order to get to where he was
needed. Information on where he had to go was compiled at his base
reality.
Not many people know, but there are occasional realities where things
were, for a lack of a better term, recorded. These dimensions were
generally called "Writer Worlds," and, unknowingly or not, it was from
these few places that the multi-verse truly sprung from. Whatever was
written in one of these few gifted places would spring up somewhere.
Usually, the new universe would collapse pretty quickly, but sometimes
there were those that remained stable, and continued to thrive...
"Eh, my time is almost up," said Tannim after glancing at his watch.
It wasn't a physical watch; it was simply made up of light so that he
could deactivate it whenever necessary. It was much better than a
real watch, because it automatically aligned itself with the current
time in whatever dimension he was in.
The idiot he was currently watching over, one Ben Oliver, did another
stupid thing. Tannim sighed as he exerted a portion of his meager
resources to nudge the pilot away from the laser blast that would have
destroyed the damn fool. He was only partially successful, as the
pilot actually fought against the life-saving maneuver. Instead, the
moron was only struck with a glancing shot.
"Really, it seems as if the quality of pilots has seriously taken a
nosedive," muttered the god to himself. "Well, I guess I can't blame
them. I mean, look at their talent pool."
Tannim's watch started to chime. The deity idly touched his wrist to
turn it off, his eyes never wavering from the pilot he had just
protected for six months.
Tannim made a bet with himself to see how long he'd live.
"One thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three, one thousand
four, one thousand five, one thousand six-" Tannim's counting was cut
off by a sudden explosion. "Huh. Lasted two seconds longer than I
thought he would. Oh well."
His job finished for the time being, he teleported himself back to the
dimensionally thin place he had used to enter this world. From there
it was just a hop, skip, and a jump back to his abode. After he
arrived home, he could travel to one of those Restaurants at the End
of the Universe and unwind. Sometimes, it was good to be the
dimension-hopping deity.
"Leaving so soon?" a chilling voice interrupted Tannim's train of
happy thoughts. Other times, it was bad to be the dimension-hopping
deity.
Slowly, Tannim turned around. There standing behind him was one of
the newer Gods of War, aligned with Heaven. Gone were the traditional
swords and shields of yesteryear. Instead, the newer Gods of War kept
up with the times; armed with automatic machineguns, laser pistols,
and camouflage armor.
"Yes, I am. My job has been completed," said Tannim with an image of
bored indifference. Inside he was seething at the arrogance of this
young upstart punk.
"I've heard rumors about you."
'Uh-oh,' thought Tannim to himself. He'd been in this kind of
situation many times before, and this was variant number three. This
god must be 'really' new to be so unoriginal.
"Why would people talk about me? I'm a nobody." This was literally
true; Tannim was the picture definition of average. From his hair-
colored hair, to his non-descript face, to his eye-colored eyes; even
his clothes screamed 'average nobody' no matter the time period he was
in.
The newbie God of War swaggered as he strode toward the older deity.
It was the type of walk employed by one fully confident in their
abilities, and also sure that their opponent could do nothing about
it.
Unfortunately, the arrogant God of War was probably right. Not having
anything like Yggdrasil to back him up, Tannim was forced to scrape
and conserve every ounce of power he could muster. During the six
months on this job, he had used most of his resources trying to protect
his client. Currently, Tannim didn't have enough energy to take on a
fourth class demon, much less a highly-rated God of War.
The War God began to speak. "I heard, you don't got no alignment-"
'That's a double negative, moron,' corrected Tannim in the privacy of
his own mind. Subtly, so as not to attract the attention of the
talking idiot, Tannim began to cast a spell with the last of his
strength.
"-you ain't with heaven, neither hell-"
'That's "heaven 'nor' hell," imbecile. Where do they get these Gods
anyway?'
"-so I wus just thinkin'-"
'You actually used your brain? Amazing! Did any good come of it?
No!'
"-what would stop me from havin' a little target practice?"
"Oh, just that thing standing behind you," said Tannim with deceptive
calmness. He was almost done.
"What? Where?!" cried the young God of War as he twirled around to
meet this new threat.
Tannim finished the spell he had been creating while the idiot had
been talking, and cast it. The spell created a portal in the thin
line between dimensions to his home.
"YOINK!" shouted Tannim as a parting word to the foolish God of War,
who had just fallen for the oldest trick in the book. Sometimes,
Tannim acted just like his Father.
"Hey-!"
Tannim paid no attention to the outraged youngster. It was fine and
dandy to be a lot more intelligent than the average deity, but when
you had to work with so little power, any two-bit moron got it in
their head they could push you around.
Sometimes, immortality just wasn't fair.
---
All was darkness. It was the kind of darkness that chills the soul.
The kind that gives you doubts about your own existence. It was the
kind of darkness that drives men insane. The only sound was a heavy
breathing, the kind that sounds like the last gasps of a dying man.
A lone figure stood in this primordial darkness.
A very annoyed figure.
"Stupid clapper. Is it ever going to work right?" the figure muttered
to itself. The figure then proceeded to stumble over furniture, trip
over a pile of mail, and finally get to a light switch and turn it on.
"Ahh! Bright light! I'm melting, I'm melt- Oh wait... that's someone
else."
The figure was revealed in the light to be a humanoid with vaguely
catlike features.
"This is the LAST time I agree to temp for the ruler of the Pit of
Dhoom. That place is way too sulfurous for me."
Nekosai, also known as the Teflon Cat, Temp-Demon, fourth class
limited, Spirit of Teflon Coated Cookware began the arduous process of
sorting through his accumulated mail.
"Bill... Bill... Bill... Prepaid credit card... Prepaid credit
card... Evil super-mop of the heavens? I didn't order this!"
Nekosai tossed the package over his shoulder where it landed with a
loud crunch as something inside broke. He paid no heed, being long
since used to random loud crashing sounds. Temping for the Lord of 7-
10 Splits will do that to a person. Demon. Whatever.
"Bill, flyer, junk mail, junk mail, bill..." he continued sorting his
mail. "Bill, bill, newest Necro-Telecomminicron copy, yellow
pages..." He stopped and sighed. "Ten months accumulated rent
bills... That Pit of Dhoom guy just HAD to have that vacation in
Maui, didn't he?" Nekosai shook his head.
"Nothing good ever seems to happen around here," stated the Teflon
Cat, looking annoyed. "They've probably raised the rent again. Eh...
it's not like anyone else would want this place; its way too close to
heaven."
Nekosai smiled to himself. Finding this apartment was a stroke of
luck on his part; he had been living out of a brimstone pit for a
while before he found out that there was a new apartment complex going
up. Unfortunately for the developer the boundaries had shifted again
right afterward, leaving the apartment too close to heaven for most
demons to want to live there. It just felt too healthy and nice for
them to be comfortable there.
The telephone began ringing, and the Temp-Demon waited for his
answering machine picked it up.
*click*
"You've reached the residence of the Teflon Cat. If you wish to leave
a message, don't."
"Oi! TC, dude! Pick it up! Hello? I know you're there! I can hear
your teeth grinding! Hey, me and the boys are going to go out to the
lava reservoir to see if we can catch anything today. Just wondering
if you wanted to come along for a change. Later man!" TC, short for
Teflon Cat, as Nekosai was otherwise known, just shook his head in
despair.
"Jim-Bob... why did it have to be Jim-Bob? I was hoping for at least
a day of peace before he found out I was back," groaned Nekosai.
Jim-Bob was one of the local demons. His domain was irritating
rednecks who were fishing. Like most demons, his domain was reflected
in his personality and hobbies.
The Teflon Cat went over to take a look at his answering machine, and
winced when he saw that there were over 300 messages waiting for him.
Nekosai became more and more apprehensive as he listened to the first
ten.
All were from Jim-Bob. From the first week Nekosai had been gone.
"This... is a 'Bad Thing,' and I really, really don't want to deal
with it," the Teflon Cat muttered to himself.
Nekosai sighed and thought of what to do. Suddenly, an idea hit him.
"That's it!" he exclaimed. "I need to get out of this place for a
while."
He ignored the minor detail that just a few minutes ago he was
perfectly happy to collapse in a heap and stay at his apartment for a
month straight. Shuffling through his mail again, he pulled out the
flyer and took a second look at it.
"Hmmm, 'Restaurant at the end of the universe: come see the sights and
get a complimentary Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster with this flyer.'
Sounds about right, I could really use one of those. If I EVER see
that flame-faced moron again, it will be too soon," said Nekosai to
himself.
Without further ado, the Teflon Cat dialed up a Demon Cab and set out
to the Restaurant at the End of the Universe.
---
After settling down at the Restaurant, Nekosai did what all people do
when they are angry and have a glass of fluid in their hands. He
waved it around and ranted to anyone who would listen, proving you
don't have to be drunk to rant like a raving lunatic.
"You know, it never works out? I mean you give them 400 years of
outstanding service, handle every known type of weird situation, but
do they give you a promotion? Nooo! Here I am, prime of my
immortality, still stuck as a Temp-Demon, fourth class limited. I
don't even have a decent place of my own, just a dinky apartment
nearly in the outskirts of heaven! I mean, can't they at least give
me a different power source than cookware?" ranted TC at one of the
other patrons, who was doing their level best to ignore the obviously
demented fool.
Nekosai paused as something occurred to him. "What am I thinking?
You probably don't even know what a Temp-Demon is!" The poor stranger
just nodded while attempting to look everywhere but at Nekosai.
TC just ignored the man's obvious agitated discomfort, and began to
explain in excruciating detail exactly what a Temp-Demon is.
"Well you see, even immortal beings with infinite power on hand get
bored sometimes. They get tired of supervising the slime pits,
torturing souls, sending out prepaid credit cards, that kind of stuff.
Then they want to take a vacation to someplace nice, and I get called
up. I mean the extra power is kind of a bonus, but most of the time I
wind up horribly under-powered, and almost totally inappropriate for
the situation. Like when I had to temp for Cthulhu a while back! Do
I look like I have tentacles?" Nekosai waved at himself and rolled
his eyes, causing the unfortunate stranger to begin edging away from
him.
"And another thing, do they give me any help? No! Are there even any
other Temp-Demons around any more? No! I get stuck temping for
EVERYONE who asks, even up in heaven! And do you have any idea just
how dumb things are organized? I mean good grief! Who needs a God of
Pretty Good Coffee? If I had my way, I could run things a hundred
times better!"
At this point the stranger stared at the raving lunatic for a moment.
He then picked up his drink, chugged it, slammed a twenty on the table,
and proceeded to run off as fast as his legs could carry him.
Nekosai didn't mind this at all. In fact he was used to it.
It came as a remarkable shock when someone actually came up and began
talking to him.
"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Tannim Murphy. My title is
God of Cannon Fodder and Small Furry Creatures. I couldn't help but
overhear you and believe me I sympathize with your plight."
Nekosai looked cautiously at the newcomer. "Really?" he asked with
skepticism evident in his voice. "What would someone from Heaven know
what it's like to be a Temp-Demon?"
"Look, just because I'm a God doesn't mean I'm aligned with Heaven,"
said Tannim calmly.
"Oh? Which pantheon do you hail from, then?"
"None of them," sighed Tannim as he sat down at the table.
"Unaligned. I'm completely and utterly on my own."
Nekosai's eyes widened at this. He knew the only reason that Heaven
and Hell weren't killing each other off right now was because the
Doublet System was in effect. The Doublet System stopped in-fighting
by making sure that for any God who was killed, a Demon would die as
well, and visa-versa. Any unaligned were fair game for both sides,
and only a few deities survived for any length of time without a
pantheon to back them up; those that did survive usually had immense
power.
There was something wrong with this picture, though. "If you're so
powerful, how come I've never heard of you? I've temped for a lot of
demons, and been to a lot of places, but I've never heard of anyone
talking about you before," said Nekosai suspiciously.
Tannim smiled wryly at this accusation. "Well, for one, I'm not
powerful at all. If fact, I'm weaker than most fifth-rate Gods you'll
meet. And for another, I'm more known in Heaven than Hell." Tannim's
face scrunched up at the unpleasant memory. "While normally I'm on
good terms with the majority of their deities, the Gods and Goddesses
of War and the Hunt like to practice on me since I'm one big target to
them because I'm unaligned. I try to stay out of sight as much as
possible, and thus spend much of my time away from anyone; including
the mortals. In fact," he added, "this is one of the few times I've
been away from my private abode willingly."
"Then how do you survive?" asked Nekosai in a skeptic tone of voice.
"I've picked up a few tricks over the millennia, and I can stretch a
bit of power farther than anyone else I've met," spoke Tannim loftily.
"I usually cast human spells, so I don't have to rely on my own power
directly. If you know what spell to cast in the right situation, you
can fool even the gods." Tannim chuckled a bit at his own joke.
"Other than that, I've learned to hide very, very well."
"Oh," said the Teflon Cat.
"You said that you're looking for another job?" prompted Tannim.
"Well, yes. I was thinking of working for L-sama, I heard that she's
gotten some open positions as of late. Either her, or the Great Green
Alakazure," replied Nekosai.
"Yes. Their last occupants were killed in a rather messy manner I
believe," stated Tannim in reply.
At this, Nekosai just sighed and began beating his head against a
nearby wall.
"You know, we could start our own pantheon."
Nekosai's head stopped its rhythmic beating against the wall. "What?
How?"
"There are millions of different universes, each within their own
individual timelines," explained Tannim with a bit of a distant look
in his eye, the look of a man who is explaining a subject he has long
thought upon. "At key points in the multi-verse, there are universes
that can create other universes. All we'd have to do is go to one of
them, create our own universe, and then make sure it doesn't collapse
back upon itself before we get settled in."
"That sounds great!" enthused Nekosai.
"It's a shame though, it'll never happen," said Tannim as he ended his
speech with real lament.
By this time, Nekosai's head was spinning with probabilities. "Why
not? It sounds perfectly viable to me!" he replied in a daze.
Tannim smiled grimly as he replied. "The one thing the multi-verse
really revolves around: Power. I don't have the huge power-base of
Yggdrasil backing me up, and the meager resources I can scrape
together from ambient magic I soak up are no where near enough to do
it. Something tells me that yours isn't much better. And after we're
done, we'd need a huge power base to stop the other pantheons from
hording in on our universe. Once word gets out we're striking out on
our own, everyone will come gunning for us."
This was enough to snap him out of his daze. "Oh that? Why don't you
just borrow a few power sources? I figure there's got to be at least
five or six that nobody will miss."
"Yeah, but generally things that have that much power are used for
some great destiny or-" Tannim paused as a thought struck him. "You
know, there are a lot of redundant timelines, continually collapsing
on themselves. If we were to go into one, snatch the power source,
and then escape before the timeline collapses, no one would be the
wiser." Tannim placed his hands on his head in amazement. "Why
didn't I think of that before?"
"See! You 'can' do it!" shouted Nekosai. He paused for a moment then
stated, "I can help. Seeing as how I probably know more power sources
than you, I think I can come up with a few schemes to... acquire
some."
Tannim grinned fiercely. Finally, a chance for some recognition after
all this millennia!
Nekosai smiled evilly to himself. Screw a promotion! After all this
time, he was finally going to be working for himself!
---
And thus was born a friendship that would shake the gods. Or just
annoy them a bit. Ok, so most of them didn't even notice or care.
But it DID give a certain individual with green hair a splitting
migraine on more than one occasion.
And another certain cat-like individual a good laugh.
---
Tannim's Author Notes: Well, this is just an idea I cooked up and
managed to rope someone else into. If you've managed to read this far
without going through Ranma withdrawals, good for you! It is unlikely
Ranma will be showing up in the near future. Added to the fact this
is original-ish, and has several avatars of different authors, it is
indeed surprising anyone managed to read through to the end of it.
The majority of the series so far planned include Sailor Moon,
Slayers, Ah!! Megami-sama, and Evangelion.
Unfortunately, Nekosai has been quite busy, and is unable to give his
own author's notes.
If you interested in getting your own avatar into this world, feel
free to contact me. Include your real name (or online alias), name of
your character/avatar, age, race, history, powers, affiliations, and
any other information that would contribute to your character as a
whole. Also, please include at least a page (if not more)
introduction to get a feel for your writing style. If accepted, you
too can participate in writing this story! ^_^
Disclaimer: Robotech belongs to Harmony Gold. Sailor Moon belongs to
Naoko Takeuchi. Oh My Goddess belongs to Kosuke Fujishima. Toltiir
belongs to Metroanime. Hitch Hikers' Guide to the Galaxy belongs to
Douglas Adams. The Teflon Cat belongs to Nekosai, while Tannim
belongs to me. Anything else that we inadvertently mention that
doesn't belong to us belongs to other people.
Writer and Editor: Tannim Murphy
Co-Writer and Ideas Man: Nekosai
Chapter One
---
It was cold. It was desolate. It was the vacuum of space.
It was also very, very boring.
Tannim Murphy, God of Cannon Fodder and Small Furry Creatures, sighed
as he witnessed the space battle before him. The battle itself was
like so many space battles he had already been a witness. Amazing
displays of aerobatics, with brief flashes of light signaling someone
had shot at someone else. Occasionally the brief flair of a fireball
indicated the end of one of the pilots.
This particular battle was one of many skirmishes between the SDF-1
and the Zendradi forces, and it was his duty to be there for it. A
couple of the other Gods of War were there, though most of them were
not the original Gods of War Tannim had grown to know and despise.
More often than not a new God would replace the old, as things changed
from one age to the next.
Tannim had a job that was everlasting. Every time some grunt on the
battlefield called out for someone, anyone, to save him, Tannim had a
believer. The nameless God the nameless soldier called out to did, in
fact, have a name. There were no shrines in his honor, no sacrifices
to his name. His was the thankless task of watching over those Idiots
and Morons about to Get Them Fool Selves Killed.
Tannim was that deity, and it was his job to make sure some person
received His Blessing. It had many names. Some people like to call
it the "the Devil's," while others called it "dumb," and some used its
original name of just plain old "luck." Whatever the name, Tannim
would save at least one fool who should have died. He never watched
over the brave, the intelligent, or the skilled; that was some other
deity's job.
Unfortunately, Tannim was also one-of-a-kind; he didn't have any
affiliation with any type of religion. He didn't discriminate against
good or evil. He also didn't have a huge power base backing him up.
And due to his strange nature, there was usually only one of him in
the entire multi-verse, aside from the occasional time paradox that
would crop up from time to time, though those usually worked
themselves out.
As such, being the only one of his kind in any dimension, Tannim had
to hop from dimension to dimension in order to get to where he was
needed. Information on where he had to go was compiled at his base
reality.
Not many people know, but there are occasional realities where things
were, for a lack of a better term, recorded. These dimensions were
generally called "Writer Worlds," and, unknowingly or not, it was from
these few places that the multi-verse truly sprung from. Whatever was
written in one of these few gifted places would spring up somewhere.
Usually, the new universe would collapse pretty quickly, but sometimes
there were those that remained stable, and continued to thrive...
"Eh, my time is almost up," said Tannim after glancing at his watch.
It wasn't a physical watch; it was simply made up of light so that he
could deactivate it whenever necessary. It was much better than a
real watch, because it automatically aligned itself with the current
time in whatever dimension he was in.
The idiot he was currently watching over, one Ben Oliver, did another
stupid thing. Tannim sighed as he exerted a portion of his meager
resources to nudge the pilot away from the laser blast that would have
destroyed the damn fool. He was only partially successful, as the
pilot actually fought against the life-saving maneuver. Instead, the
moron was only struck with a glancing shot.
"Really, it seems as if the quality of pilots has seriously taken a
nosedive," muttered the god to himself. "Well, I guess I can't blame
them. I mean, look at their talent pool."
Tannim's watch started to chime. The deity idly touched his wrist to
turn it off, his eyes never wavering from the pilot he had just
protected for six months.
Tannim made a bet with himself to see how long he'd live.
"One thousand one, one thousand two, one thousand three, one thousand
four, one thousand five, one thousand six-" Tannim's counting was cut
off by a sudden explosion. "Huh. Lasted two seconds longer than I
thought he would. Oh well."
His job finished for the time being, he teleported himself back to the
dimensionally thin place he had used to enter this world. From there
it was just a hop, skip, and a jump back to his abode. After he
arrived home, he could travel to one of those Restaurants at the End
of the Universe and unwind. Sometimes, it was good to be the
dimension-hopping deity.
"Leaving so soon?" a chilling voice interrupted Tannim's train of
happy thoughts. Other times, it was bad to be the dimension-hopping
deity.
Slowly, Tannim turned around. There standing behind him was one of
the newer Gods of War, aligned with Heaven. Gone were the traditional
swords and shields of yesteryear. Instead, the newer Gods of War kept
up with the times; armed with automatic machineguns, laser pistols,
and camouflage armor.
"Yes, I am. My job has been completed," said Tannim with an image of
bored indifference. Inside he was seething at the arrogance of this
young upstart punk.
"I've heard rumors about you."
'Uh-oh,' thought Tannim to himself. He'd been in this kind of
situation many times before, and this was variant number three. This
god must be 'really' new to be so unoriginal.
"Why would people talk about me? I'm a nobody." This was literally
true; Tannim was the picture definition of average. From his hair-
colored hair, to his non-descript face, to his eye-colored eyes; even
his clothes screamed 'average nobody' no matter the time period he was
in.
The newbie God of War swaggered as he strode toward the older deity.
It was the type of walk employed by one fully confident in their
abilities, and also sure that their opponent could do nothing about
it.
Unfortunately, the arrogant God of War was probably right. Not having
anything like Yggdrasil to back him up, Tannim was forced to scrape
and conserve every ounce of power he could muster. During the six
months on this job, he had used most of his resources trying to protect
his client. Currently, Tannim didn't have enough energy to take on a
fourth class demon, much less a highly-rated God of War.
The War God began to speak. "I heard, you don't got no alignment-"
'That's a double negative, moron,' corrected Tannim in the privacy of
his own mind. Subtly, so as not to attract the attention of the
talking idiot, Tannim began to cast a spell with the last of his
strength.
"-you ain't with heaven, neither hell-"
'That's "heaven 'nor' hell," imbecile. Where do they get these Gods
anyway?'
"-so I wus just thinkin'-"
'You actually used your brain? Amazing! Did any good come of it?
No!'
"-what would stop me from havin' a little target practice?"
"Oh, just that thing standing behind you," said Tannim with deceptive
calmness. He was almost done.
"What? Where?!" cried the young God of War as he twirled around to
meet this new threat.
Tannim finished the spell he had been creating while the idiot had
been talking, and cast it. The spell created a portal in the thin
line between dimensions to his home.
"YOINK!" shouted Tannim as a parting word to the foolish God of War,
who had just fallen for the oldest trick in the book. Sometimes,
Tannim acted just like his Father.
"Hey-!"
Tannim paid no attention to the outraged youngster. It was fine and
dandy to be a lot more intelligent than the average deity, but when
you had to work with so little power, any two-bit moron got it in
their head they could push you around.
Sometimes, immortality just wasn't fair.
---
All was darkness. It was the kind of darkness that chills the soul.
The kind that gives you doubts about your own existence. It was the
kind of darkness that drives men insane. The only sound was a heavy
breathing, the kind that sounds like the last gasps of a dying man.
A lone figure stood in this primordial darkness.
A very annoyed figure.
"Stupid clapper. Is it ever going to work right?" the figure muttered
to itself. The figure then proceeded to stumble over furniture, trip
over a pile of mail, and finally get to a light switch and turn it on.
"Ahh! Bright light! I'm melting, I'm melt- Oh wait... that's someone
else."
The figure was revealed in the light to be a humanoid with vaguely
catlike features.
"This is the LAST time I agree to temp for the ruler of the Pit of
Dhoom. That place is way too sulfurous for me."
Nekosai, also known as the Teflon Cat, Temp-Demon, fourth class
limited, Spirit of Teflon Coated Cookware began the arduous process of
sorting through his accumulated mail.
"Bill... Bill... Bill... Prepaid credit card... Prepaid credit
card... Evil super-mop of the heavens? I didn't order this!"
Nekosai tossed the package over his shoulder where it landed with a
loud crunch as something inside broke. He paid no heed, being long
since used to random loud crashing sounds. Temping for the Lord of 7-
10 Splits will do that to a person. Demon. Whatever.
"Bill, flyer, junk mail, junk mail, bill..." he continued sorting his
mail. "Bill, bill, newest Necro-Telecomminicron copy, yellow
pages..." He stopped and sighed. "Ten months accumulated rent
bills... That Pit of Dhoom guy just HAD to have that vacation in
Maui, didn't he?" Nekosai shook his head.
"Nothing good ever seems to happen around here," stated the Teflon
Cat, looking annoyed. "They've probably raised the rent again. Eh...
it's not like anyone else would want this place; its way too close to
heaven."
Nekosai smiled to himself. Finding this apartment was a stroke of
luck on his part; he had been living out of a brimstone pit for a
while before he found out that there was a new apartment complex going
up. Unfortunately for the developer the boundaries had shifted again
right afterward, leaving the apartment too close to heaven for most
demons to want to live there. It just felt too healthy and nice for
them to be comfortable there.
The telephone began ringing, and the Temp-Demon waited for his
answering machine picked it up.
*click*
"You've reached the residence of the Teflon Cat. If you wish to leave
a message, don't."
"Oi! TC, dude! Pick it up! Hello? I know you're there! I can hear
your teeth grinding! Hey, me and the boys are going to go out to the
lava reservoir to see if we can catch anything today. Just wondering
if you wanted to come along for a change. Later man!" TC, short for
Teflon Cat, as Nekosai was otherwise known, just shook his head in
despair.
"Jim-Bob... why did it have to be Jim-Bob? I was hoping for at least
a day of peace before he found out I was back," groaned Nekosai.
Jim-Bob was one of the local demons. His domain was irritating
rednecks who were fishing. Like most demons, his domain was reflected
in his personality and hobbies.
The Teflon Cat went over to take a look at his answering machine, and
winced when he saw that there were over 300 messages waiting for him.
Nekosai became more and more apprehensive as he listened to the first
ten.
All were from Jim-Bob. From the first week Nekosai had been gone.
"This... is a 'Bad Thing,' and I really, really don't want to deal
with it," the Teflon Cat muttered to himself.
Nekosai sighed and thought of what to do. Suddenly, an idea hit him.
"That's it!" he exclaimed. "I need to get out of this place for a
while."
He ignored the minor detail that just a few minutes ago he was
perfectly happy to collapse in a heap and stay at his apartment for a
month straight. Shuffling through his mail again, he pulled out the
flyer and took a second look at it.
"Hmmm, 'Restaurant at the end of the universe: come see the sights and
get a complimentary Pan-Galactic Gargle Blaster with this flyer.'
Sounds about right, I could really use one of those. If I EVER see
that flame-faced moron again, it will be too soon," said Nekosai to
himself.
Without further ado, the Teflon Cat dialed up a Demon Cab and set out
to the Restaurant at the End of the Universe.
---
After settling down at the Restaurant, Nekosai did what all people do
when they are angry and have a glass of fluid in their hands. He
waved it around and ranted to anyone who would listen, proving you
don't have to be drunk to rant like a raving lunatic.
"You know, it never works out? I mean you give them 400 years of
outstanding service, handle every known type of weird situation, but
do they give you a promotion? Nooo! Here I am, prime of my
immortality, still stuck as a Temp-Demon, fourth class limited. I
don't even have a decent place of my own, just a dinky apartment
nearly in the outskirts of heaven! I mean, can't they at least give
me a different power source than cookware?" ranted TC at one of the
other patrons, who was doing their level best to ignore the obviously
demented fool.
Nekosai paused as something occurred to him. "What am I thinking?
You probably don't even know what a Temp-Demon is!" The poor stranger
just nodded while attempting to look everywhere but at Nekosai.
TC just ignored the man's obvious agitated discomfort, and began to
explain in excruciating detail exactly what a Temp-Demon is.
"Well you see, even immortal beings with infinite power on hand get
bored sometimes. They get tired of supervising the slime pits,
torturing souls, sending out prepaid credit cards, that kind of stuff.
Then they want to take a vacation to someplace nice, and I get called
up. I mean the extra power is kind of a bonus, but most of the time I
wind up horribly under-powered, and almost totally inappropriate for
the situation. Like when I had to temp for Cthulhu a while back! Do
I look like I have tentacles?" Nekosai waved at himself and rolled
his eyes, causing the unfortunate stranger to begin edging away from
him.
"And another thing, do they give me any help? No! Are there even any
other Temp-Demons around any more? No! I get stuck temping for
EVERYONE who asks, even up in heaven! And do you have any idea just
how dumb things are organized? I mean good grief! Who needs a God of
Pretty Good Coffee? If I had my way, I could run things a hundred
times better!"
At this point the stranger stared at the raving lunatic for a moment.
He then picked up his drink, chugged it, slammed a twenty on the table,
and proceeded to run off as fast as his legs could carry him.
Nekosai didn't mind this at all. In fact he was used to it.
It came as a remarkable shock when someone actually came up and began
talking to him.
"Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Tannim Murphy. My title is
God of Cannon Fodder and Small Furry Creatures. I couldn't help but
overhear you and believe me I sympathize with your plight."
Nekosai looked cautiously at the newcomer. "Really?" he asked with
skepticism evident in his voice. "What would someone from Heaven know
what it's like to be a Temp-Demon?"
"Look, just because I'm a God doesn't mean I'm aligned with Heaven,"
said Tannim calmly.
"Oh? Which pantheon do you hail from, then?"
"None of them," sighed Tannim as he sat down at the table.
"Unaligned. I'm completely and utterly on my own."
Nekosai's eyes widened at this. He knew the only reason that Heaven
and Hell weren't killing each other off right now was because the
Doublet System was in effect. The Doublet System stopped in-fighting
by making sure that for any God who was killed, a Demon would die as
well, and visa-versa. Any unaligned were fair game for both sides,
and only a few deities survived for any length of time without a
pantheon to back them up; those that did survive usually had immense
power.
There was something wrong with this picture, though. "If you're so
powerful, how come I've never heard of you? I've temped for a lot of
demons, and been to a lot of places, but I've never heard of anyone
talking about you before," said Nekosai suspiciously.
Tannim smiled wryly at this accusation. "Well, for one, I'm not
powerful at all. If fact, I'm weaker than most fifth-rate Gods you'll
meet. And for another, I'm more known in Heaven than Hell." Tannim's
face scrunched up at the unpleasant memory. "While normally I'm on
good terms with the majority of their deities, the Gods and Goddesses
of War and the Hunt like to practice on me since I'm one big target to
them because I'm unaligned. I try to stay out of sight as much as
possible, and thus spend much of my time away from anyone; including
the mortals. In fact," he added, "this is one of the few times I've
been away from my private abode willingly."
"Then how do you survive?" asked Nekosai in a skeptic tone of voice.
"I've picked up a few tricks over the millennia, and I can stretch a
bit of power farther than anyone else I've met," spoke Tannim loftily.
"I usually cast human spells, so I don't have to rely on my own power
directly. If you know what spell to cast in the right situation, you
can fool even the gods." Tannim chuckled a bit at his own joke.
"Other than that, I've learned to hide very, very well."
"Oh," said the Teflon Cat.
"You said that you're looking for another job?" prompted Tannim.
"Well, yes. I was thinking of working for L-sama, I heard that she's
gotten some open positions as of late. Either her, or the Great Green
Alakazure," replied Nekosai.
"Yes. Their last occupants were killed in a rather messy manner I
believe," stated Tannim in reply.
At this, Nekosai just sighed and began beating his head against a
nearby wall.
"You know, we could start our own pantheon."
Nekosai's head stopped its rhythmic beating against the wall. "What?
How?"
"There are millions of different universes, each within their own
individual timelines," explained Tannim with a bit of a distant look
in his eye, the look of a man who is explaining a subject he has long
thought upon. "At key points in the multi-verse, there are universes
that can create other universes. All we'd have to do is go to one of
them, create our own universe, and then make sure it doesn't collapse
back upon itself before we get settled in."
"That sounds great!" enthused Nekosai.
"It's a shame though, it'll never happen," said Tannim as he ended his
speech with real lament.
By this time, Nekosai's head was spinning with probabilities. "Why
not? It sounds perfectly viable to me!" he replied in a daze.
Tannim smiled grimly as he replied. "The one thing the multi-verse
really revolves around: Power. I don't have the huge power-base of
Yggdrasil backing me up, and the meager resources I can scrape
together from ambient magic I soak up are no where near enough to do
it. Something tells me that yours isn't much better. And after we're
done, we'd need a huge power base to stop the other pantheons from
hording in on our universe. Once word gets out we're striking out on
our own, everyone will come gunning for us."
This was enough to snap him out of his daze. "Oh that? Why don't you
just borrow a few power sources? I figure there's got to be at least
five or six that nobody will miss."
"Yeah, but generally things that have that much power are used for
some great destiny or-" Tannim paused as a thought struck him. "You
know, there are a lot of redundant timelines, continually collapsing
on themselves. If we were to go into one, snatch the power source,
and then escape before the timeline collapses, no one would be the
wiser." Tannim placed his hands on his head in amazement. "Why
didn't I think of that before?"
"See! You 'can' do it!" shouted Nekosai. He paused for a moment then
stated, "I can help. Seeing as how I probably know more power sources
than you, I think I can come up with a few schemes to... acquire
some."
Tannim grinned fiercely. Finally, a chance for some recognition after
all this millennia!
Nekosai smiled evilly to himself. Screw a promotion! After all this
time, he was finally going to be working for himself!
---
And thus was born a friendship that would shake the gods. Or just
annoy them a bit. Ok, so most of them didn't even notice or care.
But it DID give a certain individual with green hair a splitting
migraine on more than one occasion.
And another certain cat-like individual a good laugh.
---
Tannim's Author Notes: Well, this is just an idea I cooked up and
managed to rope someone else into. If you've managed to read this far
without going through Ranma withdrawals, good for you! It is unlikely
Ranma will be showing up in the near future. Added to the fact this
is original-ish, and has several avatars of different authors, it is
indeed surprising anyone managed to read through to the end of it.
The majority of the series so far planned include Sailor Moon,
Slayers, Ah!! Megami-sama, and Evangelion.
Unfortunately, Nekosai has been quite busy, and is unable to give his
own author's notes.
If you interested in getting your own avatar into this world, feel
free to contact me. Include your real name (or online alias), name of
your character/avatar, age, race, history, powers, affiliations, and
any other information that would contribute to your character as a
whole. Also, please include at least a page (if not more)
introduction to get a feel for your writing style. If accepted, you
too can participate in writing this story! ^_^