Ranma/ Hannibal
'Mindgames'
The trail of blood that followed the blade sparkled like dark rubies in the dusk sun, following the arc of the sword's swing; the sight was her reward, her bounty for proof of her superiority.
Best of her generation, potentially one of the greatist warriors her tribe had produced within the new century. A sinister, gleeful sliver of a smirk danced across her features in celebration of the battle she was occupied in, a battle of survival of the fittest, a battle where only the strongest deserved to live.
The lavender haired teenage warrioress spun away with her sword swipe, standing calmly and deathly still, looking away, as her once sister, one who had once shared the same dreams Shampoo had, fell to never rise again.
Shampoo stood impassively, the trail of blood and bodies of her peers and more behind her, marking her path with a river of carnage that flowed too freely, too abundantly. Hesitantly, several of her tribal sisters charged at her after recovering from their shock; Shampoo had worked fast to cause the onslaught she had so far.
A gleeful giggle escaped her lips, as she deftly parried a monkspade spear with her bonbori, twisted to the side to stab another one of her sisters in the kidney with her straightsword, bringing her blade around to stab the wielder of the spear in the chest, only to have her jump back.
In the nick of time, Shampoo dodged away, just as an arrow passed by where her form had been. The lavender haired Amazon launched her sword at the monkspade owner, sinking it into her chest like a dart into the soft cork of a dartboard. Without pause, Shampoo then spun around, retrieved a throwing dagger from where she had hidden it between her breasts, and in the split second she took to surmise where the arrow had come from, and where the head of the bow user would be, Shampoo launched it with uncanny precision, sinking it into the young woman's eye. She tumbled lifelessly off of the roof, but already long forgotten by the Amazon warrior that had slain her.
Shampoo then continued her spin, slamming her bonbori mace in an upwards wing into the blade of Chinese broadsword seeking to behead her. The blade snapped under the force, throwing it's weilder off-balance. Shampoo then gave the girl a deft sidekick to the stomach, sending her flying to the ground, and while on her second spin, the lavender haired killer tossed her bonbori to follow.
Shampoo ignored the devistating sound of heavy iron landing against all to giving and brittle bone, as she walked over to her still shallowly breathing sister that currently held her straightsword, and unceremoniously removed it from her person. It was all so easy, Shampoo thought, her husband was right.
The man she had pledged her love to, the very man who had shared bodies with her and came to understand her on levels she never knew anyone else possibly could, had opened her eyes far beyond the imprisonment her own society had placed her in. She was the best of her generation, and judging from the litter of refuge behind her, there were none of her peer, and possibly older, that could possibly contest her when she no longer humored the restraints against her being.
Why did she hold back? She should have proved her own worth against the worth of others, assisting to cull the weak from the strong. Her tribe did not need these weaklings that would only lead it to decay against the outside world. She pulled her crimson tainted blade to her face, and ran her free thumb along the flat of the blade, causing blood to pool over it until she reached the top. With a disgusting snort, she flicked it from her thumb, splattering it onto the ground.
Better to spill their weak, rotten blood before it could do any more damage to the tribe.
Shampoo looked up finding one of the elders calmly and grimly striding up to her. Her Great Grandmother, Elder Cologne. With a smug, heavily satisfied smirk, Shampoo addressed the woman she was to be the heir to. "Hello, Elder." Shampoo bowed deeply and respectfully.
With a solumn tone, Cologne replied, "What have you done, child?"
Shampoo's eyes lit up at the question, "Oh? my handiwork?" She turned back, waving her hand to the devistation behind her, and the small army of Amazons gathering around her with hard, vengeful eyes, "I was attempting to prove a point, and save us from extinction in the process."
"Child, Shampoo, you aren't well," Cologne spoke, "This madness, we are here to stop it."
Shampoo frowned, "Ranma said you'd think I'm crazy." Shampoo studied her blade, as the blood was now beginning to dry enough to cake. "That's pretty upsetting to hear. He's always been true to me, but that was one thing i didn't want to believe of any of you." Shampoo glared at her Grandmother, swiping her blade to the side of her, "I've already proven myself the best the tribe has to offer! You trained me far too well to just allow our people to grow into contentful sows, as they are protected by those of us willing to survive! What happened to the proud people we once were? What happened to strong blooded warriors that did not easily fold to a... mere warrior such as myself?"
Cologne closed her eyes and bowed her head, "So, you have admitted to doing this of your own free will?"
"Grandmother," Shampoo replied empathetically, "This isn't a task that any of us would be proud to do, but it must be done. We will bring our people back to the glory they once were so long ago, but we first must remove the thin, sickly blood that soils our might. The weak shall be removed from the strong." Shampoo's sinister smile returned, "Starting with my own peers that lacked the proper judgement to understand who their superiors are, and know enough not to speak negatively of them."
"There wasn't a choice, I see that now." Cologne replied, simply.
Shampoo understood what her Great-Grandmother was saying, "You still intend to stop me..."
Cologne's blurring form was the answer. Shampoo prepared for an attack, only to look down at the butt of her elder's staff poking out from between her chest.
Cologne removed her staff, allowing Shampoo's blood to sprinkle her face...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cologne sat up quickly, attempting to rub her face of the blood she imagined there, the blood of her Great-Granddaughter. She stopped, realizing it was her dream once again. She had killed many times in the past, but never was a death she had issued so personal. Shampoo marked the last of her lineage, a once-proud family within the Chinese Neichiizu that had been discraced far beyond repair. Cologne was forced to give up her position as elder, as her family, which existed of Shampoo's father and herself, were forced to leave and never return.
She looked around to see if she had disturbed her travelling companions. Both of them had slept soundly, unpeturbed by her sudden waking. Cologne took a moment to study the both of them; Mousse, so fully encased in the soul of ice, that even if he were inclined to love again, it would be an impossiblity for him. His emotions were effectively dead, unusable and beyond recovery.
As much as Cologne was ashamed and loathe to admit it, that made Mousse an exellent weapong against Ranma. No emotions to twist around that would allow the sadistic pigtailed martial artist a sound foothold against him.
Ryoga was just as perfect to confront Ranma in the other extreme. Ryoga's infinate rage kept his mind on a unified focus, only one thing mattered to him, and that was Ranma's death. To Ranma, Ryoga would be nothing less than a mortar shell aimed straight for him, with nowhere to run. Prior to their meeting, the lost boy had extreme feelings against his nemesis, but not enough for Cologne, as she knew exactly what Ranma was. Ryoga hated Ranma, and felt a burning sense of justice and vengence to end Ranma's atrocities, but Cologne temporarily suspended her morals to finally push him to the brink. Ryoga's sole purpose, as if he were trained all his life for the task, was to end Ranma's life.
Cologne had similarly cultivated Mousse, and ancestors forgive her, she had succeeded. A prayer to her past relations, a prayer of forgivness for what she had done to both boys, and a prayer asking for Shampoo to be at peace, and to understand that it was not of her mind that brought this about, it was the one she had the misfortune to defeat upon the challenge log.
Knowing neither of her companions would arouse, Cologne allowed herself to weep in despair.
_________________
Across the vast sea of lights and the low din of noise, those tears were being shared, but not of the same reasons.
Outside of Nabiki's door, stood Akane and Kasumi, watching dumbfounded and impotent, as their middle sister was being consoled by their houseguest. Ranma gently pet Nabiki's sweat-soaked hair, as she lay her head in his lap, whimpering just above audibly. Neither girl could hear what Ranma was whispering to her as he comforted the distraught girl, but could see the effect it was having on her.
Akane felt both ashamed and relieved; Ranma had been the only one able to even approach the wildly flailing Nabiki. Akane knew if she had attepted to restrain her sister, it could do a great deal more damage than she could afford. But once Ranma arrived, and moved to calm Nabiki down, she latched onto him as if he were salvation personified; her tears flowing freely from the ordeal.
Kasumi watched with rapt intrest, being summoned just as her sister was by Nabiki's frightened wail. She knew her sister still occasionally had nightmares, but never were they so violent as the one she had apparently been in. Nabiki, the normally unflappable and most flippant of the three sisters, so cowed in her sleep. It broke Kasumi's heart to witness such, but allowed Ranma to tend to the situation.
Ranma sighed, as he gently tucked Nabiki back into bed to sleep, before he walked out the door, and between the two sisters. "What's wrong with her?" Akane asked, heavily concerned for her sister's welfare.
"A nightmare, nothing more," Ranma replied over his shoulder, "Your sister's sense of security had been taken from her, she no longer feels safe on her own."
"Nabiki..." Akane whispered, feeling for her sister. She looked towards the girl on the bed in the room before them, shuddering in breath as she hunched into a fetal position, but seemed to have calmed down tremendously.
'Let's go back to bed now, there's nothing more that can be done here," Ranma commanded, feeling heavily lethergic, and barely observative, he returned to the guestroom, leaving Akane and Kasumi to glance between themselves, and turn concerned glances back to their sister.
'Mindgames'
The trail of blood that followed the blade sparkled like dark rubies in the dusk sun, following the arc of the sword's swing; the sight was her reward, her bounty for proof of her superiority.
Best of her generation, potentially one of the greatist warriors her tribe had produced within the new century. A sinister, gleeful sliver of a smirk danced across her features in celebration of the battle she was occupied in, a battle of survival of the fittest, a battle where only the strongest deserved to live.
The lavender haired teenage warrioress spun away with her sword swipe, standing calmly and deathly still, looking away, as her once sister, one who had once shared the same dreams Shampoo had, fell to never rise again.
Shampoo stood impassively, the trail of blood and bodies of her peers and more behind her, marking her path with a river of carnage that flowed too freely, too abundantly. Hesitantly, several of her tribal sisters charged at her after recovering from their shock; Shampoo had worked fast to cause the onslaught she had so far.
A gleeful giggle escaped her lips, as she deftly parried a monkspade spear with her bonbori, twisted to the side to stab another one of her sisters in the kidney with her straightsword, bringing her blade around to stab the wielder of the spear in the chest, only to have her jump back.
In the nick of time, Shampoo dodged away, just as an arrow passed by where her form had been. The lavender haired Amazon launched her sword at the monkspade owner, sinking it into her chest like a dart into the soft cork of a dartboard. Without pause, Shampoo then spun around, retrieved a throwing dagger from where she had hidden it between her breasts, and in the split second she took to surmise where the arrow had come from, and where the head of the bow user would be, Shampoo launched it with uncanny precision, sinking it into the young woman's eye. She tumbled lifelessly off of the roof, but already long forgotten by the Amazon warrior that had slain her.
Shampoo then continued her spin, slamming her bonbori mace in an upwards wing into the blade of Chinese broadsword seeking to behead her. The blade snapped under the force, throwing it's weilder off-balance. Shampoo then gave the girl a deft sidekick to the stomach, sending her flying to the ground, and while on her second spin, the lavender haired killer tossed her bonbori to follow.
Shampoo ignored the devistating sound of heavy iron landing against all to giving and brittle bone, as she walked over to her still shallowly breathing sister that currently held her straightsword, and unceremoniously removed it from her person. It was all so easy, Shampoo thought, her husband was right.
The man she had pledged her love to, the very man who had shared bodies with her and came to understand her on levels she never knew anyone else possibly could, had opened her eyes far beyond the imprisonment her own society had placed her in. She was the best of her generation, and judging from the litter of refuge behind her, there were none of her peer, and possibly older, that could possibly contest her when she no longer humored the restraints against her being.
Why did she hold back? She should have proved her own worth against the worth of others, assisting to cull the weak from the strong. Her tribe did not need these weaklings that would only lead it to decay against the outside world. She pulled her crimson tainted blade to her face, and ran her free thumb along the flat of the blade, causing blood to pool over it until she reached the top. With a disgusting snort, she flicked it from her thumb, splattering it onto the ground.
Better to spill their weak, rotten blood before it could do any more damage to the tribe.
Shampoo looked up finding one of the elders calmly and grimly striding up to her. Her Great Grandmother, Elder Cologne. With a smug, heavily satisfied smirk, Shampoo addressed the woman she was to be the heir to. "Hello, Elder." Shampoo bowed deeply and respectfully.
With a solumn tone, Cologne replied, "What have you done, child?"
Shampoo's eyes lit up at the question, "Oh? my handiwork?" She turned back, waving her hand to the devistation behind her, and the small army of Amazons gathering around her with hard, vengeful eyes, "I was attempting to prove a point, and save us from extinction in the process."
"Child, Shampoo, you aren't well," Cologne spoke, "This madness, we are here to stop it."
Shampoo frowned, "Ranma said you'd think I'm crazy." Shampoo studied her blade, as the blood was now beginning to dry enough to cake. "That's pretty upsetting to hear. He's always been true to me, but that was one thing i didn't want to believe of any of you." Shampoo glared at her Grandmother, swiping her blade to the side of her, "I've already proven myself the best the tribe has to offer! You trained me far too well to just allow our people to grow into contentful sows, as they are protected by those of us willing to survive! What happened to the proud people we once were? What happened to strong blooded warriors that did not easily fold to a... mere warrior such as myself?"
Cologne closed her eyes and bowed her head, "So, you have admitted to doing this of your own free will?"
"Grandmother," Shampoo replied empathetically, "This isn't a task that any of us would be proud to do, but it must be done. We will bring our people back to the glory they once were so long ago, but we first must remove the thin, sickly blood that soils our might. The weak shall be removed from the strong." Shampoo's sinister smile returned, "Starting with my own peers that lacked the proper judgement to understand who their superiors are, and know enough not to speak negatively of them."
"There wasn't a choice, I see that now." Cologne replied, simply.
Shampoo understood what her Great-Grandmother was saying, "You still intend to stop me..."
Cologne's blurring form was the answer. Shampoo prepared for an attack, only to look down at the butt of her elder's staff poking out from between her chest.
Cologne removed her staff, allowing Shampoo's blood to sprinkle her face...
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Cologne sat up quickly, attempting to rub her face of the blood she imagined there, the blood of her Great-Granddaughter. She stopped, realizing it was her dream once again. She had killed many times in the past, but never was a death she had issued so personal. Shampoo marked the last of her lineage, a once-proud family within the Chinese Neichiizu that had been discraced far beyond repair. Cologne was forced to give up her position as elder, as her family, which existed of Shampoo's father and herself, were forced to leave and never return.
She looked around to see if she had disturbed her travelling companions. Both of them had slept soundly, unpeturbed by her sudden waking. Cologne took a moment to study the both of them; Mousse, so fully encased in the soul of ice, that even if he were inclined to love again, it would be an impossiblity for him. His emotions were effectively dead, unusable and beyond recovery.
As much as Cologne was ashamed and loathe to admit it, that made Mousse an exellent weapong against Ranma. No emotions to twist around that would allow the sadistic pigtailed martial artist a sound foothold against him.
Ryoga was just as perfect to confront Ranma in the other extreme. Ryoga's infinate rage kept his mind on a unified focus, only one thing mattered to him, and that was Ranma's death. To Ranma, Ryoga would be nothing less than a mortar shell aimed straight for him, with nowhere to run. Prior to their meeting, the lost boy had extreme feelings against his nemesis, but not enough for Cologne, as she knew exactly what Ranma was. Ryoga hated Ranma, and felt a burning sense of justice and vengence to end Ranma's atrocities, but Cologne temporarily suspended her morals to finally push him to the brink. Ryoga's sole purpose, as if he were trained all his life for the task, was to end Ranma's life.
Cologne had similarly cultivated Mousse, and ancestors forgive her, she had succeeded. A prayer to her past relations, a prayer of forgivness for what she had done to both boys, and a prayer asking for Shampoo to be at peace, and to understand that it was not of her mind that brought this about, it was the one she had the misfortune to defeat upon the challenge log.
Knowing neither of her companions would arouse, Cologne allowed herself to weep in despair.
_________________
Across the vast sea of lights and the low din of noise, those tears were being shared, but not of the same reasons.
Outside of Nabiki's door, stood Akane and Kasumi, watching dumbfounded and impotent, as their middle sister was being consoled by their houseguest. Ranma gently pet Nabiki's sweat-soaked hair, as she lay her head in his lap, whimpering just above audibly. Neither girl could hear what Ranma was whispering to her as he comforted the distraught girl, but could see the effect it was having on her.
Akane felt both ashamed and relieved; Ranma had been the only one able to even approach the wildly flailing Nabiki. Akane knew if she had attepted to restrain her sister, it could do a great deal more damage than she could afford. But once Ranma arrived, and moved to calm Nabiki down, she latched onto him as if he were salvation personified; her tears flowing freely from the ordeal.
Kasumi watched with rapt intrest, being summoned just as her sister was by Nabiki's frightened wail. She knew her sister still occasionally had nightmares, but never were they so violent as the one she had apparently been in. Nabiki, the normally unflappable and most flippant of the three sisters, so cowed in her sleep. It broke Kasumi's heart to witness such, but allowed Ranma to tend to the situation.
Ranma sighed, as he gently tucked Nabiki back into bed to sleep, before he walked out the door, and between the two sisters. "What's wrong with her?" Akane asked, heavily concerned for her sister's welfare.
"A nightmare, nothing more," Ranma replied over his shoulder, "Your sister's sense of security had been taken from her, she no longer feels safe on her own."
"Nabiki..." Akane whispered, feeling for her sister. She looked towards the girl on the bed in the room before them, shuddering in breath as she hunched into a fetal position, but seemed to have calmed down tremendously.
'Let's go back to bed now, there's nothing more that can be done here," Ranma commanded, feeling heavily lethergic, and barely observative, he returned to the guestroom, leaving Akane and Kasumi to glance between themselves, and turn concerned glances back to their sister.