Deux Machine Chapter 19: Nineteen, a ranma fanfic

Fanfic Newsflash!

Ranma (leaning against a wall, reading an article in a newspaper):

"Ranma Saotome, the teen-aged martial artist, heir to the School of Anything Goes Martial Arts (AGMA), has died. Details at this point are sketchy at best: It is believed that Mr. Saotome was accidentally poisoned by Chinese Martial Artist Shampoo, a jealous suitress. The poison was evidently intended for another suitress, one Akane Tendo, also an heiress to the School of AGMA. Nerima authorities have taken Miss Shampoo into custody pending further investigation. Funeral arrangements have been made for…"

(Sound of phonograph needle scratching across record)

Me:

"Woah, Woah, WOAH here! What the heck?"

Ranma:

"Well, what do you expect when you leave your story uncompleted? You started this thing, when, in 1999? When did you publish Chapter 18? 2004? What did you think would happen? Well, what's your excuse this time? And don't give me that "Real Life" nonsense! "

Me:

"Okay, Okay! I'm one heck of a procrastinator! I admit it!"

Well, back to the story…

Chapter 19

Opening Theme: Otoko no Yoyu

Time to get up. Gotta go. Burning daylight.

With Alisha issues laying heavy on my mind, it was a bit difficult to put her aside. I faced a branch in the Akane no Ranma drama that I'd been somehow drawn into. I had the solution – now I just had to implement it. Yeah! I can do this! No problem! Just as soon as I get some breakfast and go to school. A glance at my watch (Shut up, Mario!) showed I'd overslept a bit. About five minutes to Nine O'clock. First class at Nine-thirty. AM. Enough time to brush my teeth, dress, and head out the door. Plenty of time. Yeah. Just a little more…zzz…ZZZZZZ.

As is typical in my dreams of late, I found myself walking through the streets of Nerima. The wind was blowing heavily, cherry blossoms bombarding my face in a never-ending stream as I sought focus and concentrated on my dream. Gradually, the stream thinned out and stopped altogether. An occasional blossom drifted nearby as I continued briskly down the street. Ahead lay Uchan's. The original fanfic had been vague on the location of the original incident that resulted in Ranma's demise. The restaurant was good as any. As I drew closer, I could see that my guess was fairly correct. Shampoo stood outside the establishment, waiting for the right moment to spring her "trap". Akane and Ranma were inside the restaurant, talking quietly, showing small signs of affection for each other in hesitant touches – on the arm, on the face, loosely-joined hands. A jealous Ukyo was silently steaming as she cooked. Shampoo apparently could wait no longer. Drawing a long tube from…her clothing, I presume…she drew closer to the building, watching through windows and gaps in the restaurant. At one point, Akane parted from Ranma and walked to another part of the place, picking up a set of chopsticks. A misty, translucent dust blew from Shampoo's tube, enveloping Akane. A moment later, Ranma stepped forward, gently placing his hands on her upper arms. Akane turned, her hand going to the side of her head to brush a small curl of hair behind her ear, then looked up as she stared into his eyes. A brief eternity passed as they gazed into each other's eyes, then Ranma leaned in and tenderly kissed her. A look of shock appeared on Shampoo's face, as she walked in to the Uchan's and confessed to the couple what she had done.

"Akane, I make you breathe powder that should have caused you to die. But you kissed Ranma and passed it to him. Ranma, I sorry for this." A look of horror came over Ranma's face as he waited for the powder to take effect. He fell to the floor, and slowly he began to stiffen as the life in his eyes began to fade.

"You…You…YOU!" Ukyo screamed as she leapt over her grill and swung her spatula at Shampoo. Shampoo ducked the swing and dashed out the entrance, Ukyo fast in pursuit.

Akane, panic-stricken, dropped to her knees by Ranma's side, grasping his upper body and pulling him to her. She buried her face in his shoulder, then leaned back and let out an anguished cry.

Watching from outside, I stood in shock, wondering what had gone wrong. The original poison had been destroyed and replaced by a harmless fake. What is going on?

A ball of light began to manifest and twinkle nearby. Light began streaming out of the apparition until bright light filled the area, dimming and vanishing to reveal a rather debonair fellow dressed in a long dark duster, an ornate staff hanging from his back. The area to his left seemed to split, one side sliding up while the other slid down. The split widened, allowing a voluptuous female with flowing red hair to step out. She was dressed in a futuristic looking jumper of mostly dark colors. The rift behind her slammed shut and slid back into place, vanishing without a trace. To her left a short, stout fellow walked onto the scene and took his place with the other two.

"What-ho?" said the first arrival. "We are the gods of Fanfiction. I am Hinson, this is the Lady Halma, and that, pointing at the last newcomer, is Wuhu."

"Mind telling me what is going on here?" I asked incredulously. This story had taken a horrid turn and I desperately looked for a way to redeem it.

"This story, Nibun Yuri's story, was written with a certain intent and direction," Hinson explained, taking off a pair of previously unseen glasses, cleaning the lenses with a small cloth retrieved from the inside of his jacket. "Whatever your intentions, you will not be allowed to alter it. Your substitution was replaced by Lady Halma with a duplicate of the original substance and the story allowed to progress as it was supposed to." Stowing the cleaning cloth, he put the glasses back on.

"And him?" I asked, pointing at Wuhu, who was picking his nose shamelessly.

"Mmm. Forbidden fanfic," Wuhu muttered in response.

"He played absolutely no part whatsoever," Hinson replied blandly.

"Then why is he here?" I asked.

"No reason, really. We gods go where we wish and he simply decided to join us."

As if in retort, a silky male voice spoke.

"Αυτό δεν είναι αποδεκτό."

Out of nowhere stepped what could be described as a nondescript Greek deity by dress, speech, and manner. And by dress he was wearing nothing more than a grass crown. By speech, well, it was all Greek to me. And by manner, he seemed drunk out of his gourd. Hinson's eyes became large as saucers, literally, and Lady Halma pointed, saying in a high, squeaky voice, "HIM!" Wuhu simply stared at what he had retrieved from his nose.

"Hey!" Hinson yelled, his glasses having vanished when no one was looking. "Some respect for the lady!"

Looking down, the figure shrugged and a moment later was dressed in a Greek toga. "Αυτό δεν είναι αποδεκτό. This is not acceptable"

"This isn't your domain," Hinson cried. "You can't do this!"

"No, this simply won't do." He raised his hands, speaking a simple phrase:

"δύο μηχανήματα." Deux Machine.

As is typical in my dreams of late, I found myself walking through the streets of Nerima. The wind was blowing slightly, cherry blossoms skittering across my face in a never-ending stream as I sought focus and concentrated on my dream. Gradually, the stream thinned out and stopped altogether. An occasional blossom drifted nearby as I continued briskly down the street. Ahead lay the Tendo Dojo. The original fanfic had been vague on the location of the original incident that resulted in Ranma's demise. The dojo was good as any. As I drew closer, I could see that my guess was fairly correct. Shampoo stood outside the dojo, waiting for the right moment to spring her "trap". Akane and Ranma were inside the building, talking quietly, showing small signs of affection for each other in hesitant touches – on the arm, on the face, loosely-joined hands. Shampoo apparently could wait no longer. Drawing a long tube from…Hammerspace, I guess…she drew closer to the building, watching through windows and gaps in the dojo. At one point, Akane parted from Ranma and walked to another part of the dojo, picking up some small hand weights. A misty, translucent dust blew from Shampoo's tube, enveloping Akane, but seemingly missed as she gathered the weights. A moment later, Ranma stepped forward, gently placing his hands on her upper arms. Akane turned, her hand going to the side of her head to brush a small curl of hair behind her ear, then looked up as she stared into his eyes. A brief eternity passed as they gazed into each other's eyes, then Ranma leaned in and tenderly kissed her. A look of shock appeared on Shampoo's face, as she walked in to the dojo and confessed to the couple what she had done.

"Very funny, Shampoo," Ranma said, a note of relief in his voice.

"I no understand. You should be dead."

"Perhaps, but not today."

Perplexed, Shampoo exited the dojo and left the area. She was confused and expressed this to herself as she walked away: "Do not understand. Powder should have killed Akane if she no kissed Ranma. Then Ranma should die. But he no die. I happy he no die, but I no understand this."

As she disappeared down the street, I started walking past the dojo, smiling to myself, my plans falling into place perfectly.

"Hey, that's that foreign teacher from school! Mr. Daniels! What are you doing here?"

"Oh, hi, you two. I didn't know you lived around here." Which I didn't. It was the "magic" of the dream that led me, unerringly, to where the Dramatis Personae were. I exchanged pleasantries, then headed down the street. I smiled as I looked at the setting sun, its brilliant reds and pinks painting the sky in beautiful swaths of color.

View switches to one watching the hero walking off into the sunset

I considered the recent events and my adventures within the dream. What I could accomplish, if only in my dreams…"

"Vic! Wake up!" I could hear Alisha's soft voice whispering as I began to climb into the air, quickly approaching the clouds, visual cues that meant I was waking up. This time I let it take me up, up, to wakefulness; my eyes opening to behold the vision of my one true beloved: Alisha. I looked up at her, smiling warmly as I awakened. My eyes then quickly shot open.

"I'm late for school!"

"Love, it's Saturday."

FACEFAULT!

"So, what would YOU like to do today?"

Alisha smiled, shaking her head.

Closing Theme: "A Piece of Love"