Ha-HA! Sucess! http://www.finalknight.net WORKS!

So there's not really anything there yet... I'm still hauling everything
off the old servers to the new one, so give me a break. Then I'm also
working on setting everything up with PHP.

I'd like to introduce my new pre-reader, Mei Neko, who also happens to be
an AWESOME artist. Take a bow, and a Plushi, Mei *waves at a pile of
Identity-series Plushies. There's Ranma, Ranma-onna, Ranma-as-Bastet,
Jei, Jei-as-Ptah, Yohji, Yohji-as-Horus... etc. EVERY character*

Now, I'm going to go "eep!" and run off to finish my new website. Later
Days!


True Identity
Chapter Thirteen - Ex-deceased
Li Xiang



"Bu... bu... but why?" Ami half screeched, half stuttered "who would hire
you to kill _me_?!"

"The Japanese and American governments," Charon-- no, she wasn't a
senshi, was she?-- shook her head, "And I don't really know why we're
telling you this."

"Melodrama," 'Bastet' grinned, "The bad guys _always_ give away their
plans before they do them, only to be thwarted before any lasting damage
is done."

"You just like seeing the fear and terror in their faces when they
realize they have no way out," Schuldich scolded, giving the former
psuedo-senshi a _look_. Bastet snorted at him, and then rubbed her chin.

"How will we do this? The hunting style I did when I first ran with you?
Bullet through the skull? Or vaporization to give her friends false
hopes?"

"A little of this, and a little of that," Schuldich offered, "Kleine
Schweister hasn't had much of a chance to use that weapon of hers."

For a split second, there was a hint of uncertainty in Rache's face, but
it fled swiftly. The eighteen year old had yet to detach her emotions
from her missions. She _was_ an empath, after all, and on top of that,
she'd been hired to assassinate her former friends.

Her grip on her long-hafted scimitar tightened unconsciously, and she
stepped away from her brother and Ami. The male German noted his sister's
uncertainty, and decided to "help her out".

Reaching out to her, mentally, he blocked her "softer" emotions from her
reactions, forcing her down the path of apathy. Of the group that lived
in the House, only Rache, Nobuyuki and Fei Li could not just grab a hold
of their own indifference with a simple shift of thought process. The
assassins had been trained that way. Oz had learned to do so long ago,
and was almost permanently in it.

Ranma had been raised under the ideal that emotions were a downfall--
something to be manipulated.

She paused as she felt her emotions seemingly get locked behind a
barrier, /Danke Bruder./

/Not at all./ he sent back, as she used the tip of her scimitar to trace
the column of the ice senshi's neck, and along her collar bone.

"You know," Rache started, conversationally, "If you lot hadn't pushed me
away, I might have been able to convince bruder and his team not to have
accepted this mission."

Ranma's eyes tracked the blood that beaded along the very thin cuts in
Ami's neck, absently licking her lips.

"But, you did, and I didn't," she hummed, digging the blade deeper,
carving it into her shoulders and upper arms. Blood began to soak the
blue haired one's shirt.

"Stop," Ami whimpered, "Please... stop! We'll... we'll stop pushin--"

"Tormenting!" she snapped, pushing the blade all the way through the
other woman's shoulder. Schuldich twisted out of the way just in time,
still holding Mizuno in place.

"We'll do whatever you want!" Ami screeched, sobbing at the pain. It
hadn't hurt nearly as much as this the last couple times she'd died. Then
again, those deaths had been immediate, not dragged out in this sadistic
torturing.

"All I want," Rache purred, "Is for you to die," and she followed words
with actions, swiping with her pole arm.

Mizuno Ami gurgled in the shadows of the dark alley, as blood poured from
her slit throat, and frothed in her mouth. Accusing blue eyes, face
locked in pain, stared back at the grey-garbed psudeo-senshi.

Emotionless emerald eyes stared back at the other woman, lips pursed into
a thin line.

The mental block still hid her own emotions from her, and Rache
shouldered her blood-soaked weapon, "I'll meet you two back at the
House."

Ranma swept forwards, scooping Mizuno's body out of Schuldich's arms,

"I can take care of this."

"Right," the Guilty One nodded, moving to follow his sister. She would be
horrified by her own actions, once he'd dropped the barrier. He wanted to
be there for his only living relative when that happened.

Back at the murder scene, Ranma was holding Ami's body. The senshi was
still clinging to life, barely holding on with a tenacious grip-- and was
choking on her blood. Ranma dragged her finger through it, smearing it
across her palms.

"You know who you look like?" Ranma mused, "My fiancee, Akane. Although,
it was Shampoo who had her throat slit. Eh, doesn't matter, does it? I'm
not leaving a body behind for your friends to find. Say g'nite Miss
Mercury. Happo Go Ensatsu revised: SPIRIT OBLITERATION!"

---

He came to with a blinding headache, and he clutched at his skull. Hair
fell into his face as he pulled himself into a sitting position, with a
slight grunt.

Something cold pressed against his lips, and a male voice commanded,
"Drink." Icy water spilled down his throat, and he wondered where he was.

What was happening? The last this he remembered was...

Was...

Was... his own death!

Ice pale eyes snapped open, and he found himself peering into a pair of
reddish irises. Violet hair-- short and wild-- framed her skull, and she
wore a violet floor-length jacket over a black and purple dress.

"Who..." he croaked, then cleared his throat, "Who are you...?"

"Her name is Xian Phu, but most call her 'Shampoo'," the male voice came
again, and he looked past the female to the other nearby. He was dressed
in a white version of Xian Phu's jacket, a pair of black pants and ebony
vest, and a white shirt, "She's incapable of speech."

The sandy-haired teen was checking over a familiar still form, but
continued to speak, "I'm Omi, Sorceress' Knight. Who are _you_?"

"Kunzite Ei'lorosha," he frowned, "I should be dead. Why am I...?"

"Our Sorceress revived you and your fellows," Omi grinned wryly,
"Although, finding bodies for your spirits to occupy was far from simple.
You're the first to awa--" he cut himself off suddenly with a scowl,
followed by a put upon sigh.

"Looks like another senshi had fallen," he muttered, "And Rache is
freaking out over it."

Xian Phu ran through a series of hand motions that Kunzite didn't
understand.

Omi nodded, climbing to his feet. He paused, looking at Kunzite, "You'll
have to find your way back to the House through Xian Phu. Nabiki and I
are needed to help Schuldich calm Rache down."

He disappeared into the shadows, and the annoyed looking woman withdrew a
miniature white board and pen from nowhere. She scribbled out a message.

'You're going to have to help me care for your friends.'

He nodded, "Very well. And perhaps you could explain everything to me..."

---

Brown eyes fluttered open, blinking up at the ceiling. Where...? What's
going on?

Blood red lips pursed in through, attempting to recall what had happened
over the past few... days? Weeks? It no longer mattered, she supposed.
Rolling her shoulders, the ebony haired woman drew herself to her feet,
"C'mon Fox-girl, no point in lazing about."

Well, that was certainly true, brain told mouth, which was what had
spoken, and mouth quirked with happiness. With that out of the way, she
took hold of the door knob, cracking it open and peering out.

Hospital orderlies, doctors, patients and visitors. No sign of her
pursuers anywhere. "Falling asleep in a utility closet worked better than
I thought!" she chirped to herself, stepping out of the aforementioned
closet.

"Although..." she murmured, while straightening the ties of her "doctor
disguise", "...I would have thought Kritiker would try harder."

Well, that didn't matter, she decided with a smile. It was crooked and
broken, but it was a smile none the less.

Her ears perked as a familiar pair of voices floated to her down the
hall. Birmen and Manx? What were _those_ two meddlers doing here?

Listening closely, she managed to get the gist of the situation.

"That poor boy, that poor girl," she muttered, trailing after the pair to
see where they would go. She smiled happily, and had to resist the urge
to clap when they entered one of the rooms.

She would save this... Fujimiya Aya, she decided. And she would free poor
Aya-chan's big brother from his servitude to the evil sadistic clutches
of Kritiker. She was practically _bouncing_ with the idea.

---

"Ugh, that's gross Xue Shi!"

Ranma rolled her eyes, as Nobuyuki looked sick. She was licking the
remains of Mercury's blood off her fingers, "So?"

"No comment," he groaned, before a thoughtful expression crossed his
face, "Well, that would explain why Naru is sobbing in her room."

"Crying?" Ranma gave her band-mate an odd look, "Why would she be
crying?"

Nobuyuki shrugged, "Probably something to do with that mission you did
tonight. We're practicing in thirty, though. Akira said tonight's gig
sucked."

"I'll be there," Ranma waved him off, beginning her search for hot water.
It was in the kitchen-- with Omi and Nabiki. The Tendou girl flared
evilly at Saotome, promising vengeance, just as soon as she was done
doing... whatever it was she was doing.

"What's with the pot?"

Nabiki glowered at her, but Omi did offer the redheaded singer an answer
"It's easier to calm someone down with a potion."

"Oh," Ranma shrugged, dumping a glass of hot water over her skull. He
wrung the water out of his hair-- a tougher thing to do since it had been
cut; it was times like this that he missed his pigtail-- then out of his
shirt. He began to walk away, only pausing in the doorway to the hall,
"Why are you making a calming potion?"

This time both of them shot him a 'figure it out, baka' look, and
returned to what they were doing. A bit confused, and a bit more annoyed,
the martial artist left the kitchen, in search of Nagi.

Ranma wanted another shot at beating the other boy in Mortal Kombat-- the
video game, of course.

---

Yohji sighed heavily, stroking Rache's head in a hopefully soothing
manner. While normally he would be ecstatic that he had the girl he'd
fallen for in his lap, but not now. Not with her sobbing into his shirt.

Schuldich hovered in the doorway, biting his lip. This was not a
situation he was well versed in. He just hoped Omi and Nabiki would hurry
it up. He hated his sister looking so broken up over something. It made
him want to kill whatever hurt her.

Rache was still wearing her bloody fuku, her pole arm cast to the floor,
blade sinking into the plush carpet that she herself had picked out to be
laid there.

Several minutes of this passed, before Schuldich moved away from the
door. A moment later, Nabiki entered, a mug in one hand. The Sorceress
known as the ice queen stepped up next to the still crying redhead,
lightly tapping the older girl's shoulder.

One red-tinged green eye peered blurrily out of a tear streaked face,
eyeing the mug.

"Drink it," Nabiki reigned in her normal urge to ask for monetary
compensation for doing this. Neither Schuldich nor Yohji looked much in
the mood to take it as a joke. While she could probably use her magic to
shield from physical attacks, she'd yet to come up with a spell to
protect her mind from mental ones.

The eighteen year old didn't stop crying as she reached out and took the
mug, gulping it down. She made a face at the taste-- a mixture of

Buckley's cough medicine type taste and the flovarou of coffee beans
before a change in her mood happened. Her tears slowed to a sniffle, and
her shaking came to a halt, but she did not move from Yohji's lap.

---

End Chapter

Er, if some of the speech sounds out of character, blame it on
shakespere. We were "studying" Hamlet (read: watching the Mel Gibson
version of it in English) while I wrote this chapter. Shakespere has a
bad habit of influencing me at the worst times. I've found that after a
class spent reading Hamlet I think with Shakesperean words. It's creepy.