Disclaimer; This fanfiction uses existing ideas, characters and or worlds, but is an independent work of art. I own nothing, hence the reason for publishing my writings here instead of in real books where I could make some money.
Kuno Tatewaki was incensed … there was no other word for it.
Immediately after finding that the Pigtailed girl was alive and well, and still under the spell of the vile sorcerer Saotome, Kuno went in search of someone who could undo the man's evil influence from the grave.
He had found a mystic in Fukushima, and gave the old man a description of his exploits concerning Saotome, and the details of the curse that was held over the tree-borne-kettle-girl. The old man had been patient, and listened to the entire tale, boasting and accusations included.
When he had finished his tale, Kuno had waited for the man to respond.
"I am afraid I cannot help you, young one," the old man had told him. "The magic at work sounds … beyond my scope of abilities. However, do not despair, I know someone who might be able to …"
Kuno had been referred to a Hindu Mystic in Jaipur, who had repeated the first's actions, and referred him to a mystic who mostly wandered around Ayers Rock, and had done so for decades.
The Aborigine Mystic had done as the previous two, and referred him to a shaman in the "Heart of Darkness" … Africa.
This process had been repeated several more times, but they all blurred together, and Kuno bounced all over the world until he was referred to the world's leading expert in the world of the supernatural … Dr Theodore Diggers.
Weary of travel, and appalled at the sheer number of apparent amateurs there existed in the field of magic, Kuno had travelled to Atlanta, and immediately sought out the mansion of Dr Theodore Diggers, only to find it empty … the neighbours had informed him that Dr Diggers and his family had taken a few friends with them on a vacation to visit his in-laws, and in it was uncertain how long they would be gone.
That was the reason he was currently in the nearest four star hotel.
He did not know of anyone better than the best in this field of study, so he intended to remain there until Dr Diggers returned … however long it took.
While the clerk behind the check-in counter was processing all the information Kuno had left with him, including forms for payment, his passport and other essential information, he was perusing through the kiosk connected to the hotel.
There was little of interest in the kiosk … nothing on poesy, sword-fighting or demon slaying … and the most lethal item they carried was a sandwich with eggs, cheese and ham.
However, as he looked through their selection of magazines, he saw a sight that made bile rise in his throat.
There, grinning up at him from the cover of Tomorrow's Science Today, a monthly magazine which there was no need in wondering about the content of, was the foul demon, Saotome, but the honourless cad had changed his name, it was no longer Saotome … he was going by the obviously fictitious name of Koki! Spirit Child, indeed! The name was obviously meant to lure people into a false sense of security before he struck.
Somehow, he seemed to have gotten major industries under his spell as well, and had clearly taken the credit for someone else's invention.
"Curse you, Saotome!" screamed Kuno in holy fury, not about to let his ire at the unholy acts fester within. "For this offence, I shall once more slay you, and assure the public that your foul presence shall be no more!"
"Er, sir … could you keep it down, please?" asked the woman behind the counter of the kiosk. "You're making a scene, and scaring away our other customers."
"Verily, the foul Saotome's influence has spread this far, even enslaving staff at a hotel kiosk!" concluded Kuno in a more sedate tone, but still loud enough to be disturbing, and waving his bokken to awe the crowd. "Fear not, fair maiden, for I, Kuno Tatewaki, the Blue Thunder of Furinkan High, and Holy Crusader for the Pigtailed Girl, shall slay the demon Saotome that holds your will in his pocket, and release you from it!"
"Is there a problem here?"
Turning to the street door, the remaining patrons of the kiosk saw a police constable, fairly normal, apart from the handle-bar moustache and sunglasses that made him look like he belonged in a disco band, doing carefully choreographed arm movements to the lyrics along with a Native American, a construction worker and a motorcyclist.
"Verily!" declared Kuno. "The foul Saotome, enslaver of beautiful women, has gone too far and must be destroyed!"
"Pipe down, kid, or I'll have to run you in for disturbing the peace!" barked the policeman, grabbing hold of his radio with one hand and unfastening the latch holding on to his nightstick.
"Saotome!" bellowed Kuno angrily at the ceiling. "You've sunk as low as to corrupt even the law enforcement officers! Curse you!"
"Hey!" interrupted the policeman. "Are you accusing me of bribery?"
"I am not doing any such thing!" denied Kuno. "I am merely pointing out your enslavement of a corrupt being that must be brought down!"
"Okay, that's it! No one threatens to kill my President! Get down on the ground before I have to use force, you are under arrest!" bellowed the police constable, now equally loud and angry. "Harry, I need backup … there's a terrorist in the hotel kiosk, and he's confessed to it already!" he yelled into his radio.
" Roger, Stan … radioing for backup … over … " responded the person on the other end.
"Harry, this is not the time to take up that subject!"
" You're supposed to end each transmission with an "over" … over … "
"Not now!" barked constable Stan, before sighing and adding a reluctant "… over …"
" Was that so difficult? … over … "
"Will you just get to it?" snapped Stan.
" You forgot to finish with "over" … over … "
"Just call for backup and get in here! This kid's resisting arrest! …over …"
This scene had several of the locals rolling their eyes, as they had known about this quarrel for some time, but it certainly didn't make a good impression on the visitors, and only made Kuno even more certain that the foul Saotome had corrupted them into mental infancy to gain control over them … and the way the law enforcer had phrased it, he had even taken over the American government without it being announced on TV or any other media … the demon had certainly become more nefarious after his banishment, and the roots of his evil had reached deeper than he had first assumed … there was only one non-magical way Kuno knew to snap any person from a trance, and that was to beat them out of it!
-Whack!-
The sound and sight of a strong wooden implement striking against the side of constable Stan's head caused everyone in the kiosk to gasp in shock and fear … if this insane person would strike at the police, what chances would they have to avoid a similar fate?
-Ding!-
Entering the kiosk from the street, gun drawn in response to the call about a terrorist resisting arrest, was Stan's partner, Harry.
Seeing his partner sprawled over a dais which had been covered in bargain books until Stan had crashed over them, Harry directed the gun at Kuno.
"Freeze!" bellowed the constable, and imitated his partner in reaching for his radio. "Constable down! Repeat! Constable down! Send SWAT and an ambulance, now! Over!"
Kuno watched the spectacle the young policeman was making of himself with a disinterested gaze …truly, Saotome's spell must have been more harmful than beneficial to his minions if this man was an example of it.
"Drop the stick, and get down on the ground, hands behind your head!" commanded constable Harry, looking like he was just waiting for an excuse to discharge his weapon without getting chewed out by the Chief and Internal Affairs.
"Fool," replied Kuno. "I am merely administering a cure to your accursed weak mentality!"
"Drop your weapon, sir, and get down on the ground with your hands behind your head!" repeated Harry, making it clear that this was his final warning.
By now, hotel security had also arrived upon hearing the commotion in the kiosk, and though they were practically unarmed, they too carried nightsticks and several cans of pepper spray.
Twenty minutes later, several ambulances, but thankfully no coroners, followed by numerous vans with satellite dishes on the roof and logos for various media distributors on the side, pulled out from the hotel, carrying the thirty persons that were injured in the violent apprehension of the man who would from then on be known as the Mad Samurai Terrorist, who attacked policemen and hotel security in what he claimed to be a holy quest, though he was not a member of any religious fanatic group … or at least no one claimed responsibility for him.
Kuno himself was not-so-little drugged, which was probably a good thing, because it kept him from feeling the pain of the numerous bullet holes in his arms and legs … actually, he had lost most feeling in general, and was drooling liberally onto the stretcher he was secured to with three times the number of straps they use on normal people.
After the battles had finished for the day, Julia and her entourage assembled outside the Fire Arena to bid farewell to Rhaoton.
The warrior was now clad in a travelling cloak over his clothes, and was facing a slowly setting sun, towards which his road led. Behind him, Julia was waving him off. She had wanted him to stay as support for her showdown against G'Nolga, but Rhaoton could not.
Ranma was sad to see the man off, not because he had gotten to know him at all, but because he was a good opponent to measure his skill against … he still had Karia and Julia, though … speaking of which …
"Ranma!"
The group turned to the voice and found Weapons-Master Karia approaching them, dragging along her own group, consisting of several old persons of varying gender and species. One of these looked familiar to Ranma, but he couldn't place him … Julia, however, did.
"I thought we could have the battle now, if you're not busy?" continued Karia, smirking knowingly at the fuming women backing Ranma up silently.
"We were supposed to get supper, but …" Ranma answered, looking to his sensei for any indication that he should decline.
Dr Diggers was frowning … not in anger, but in thought and suspicion. After a brief moment, the old man nodded.
"… supper can wait, I guess," finished Ranma.
"Great!" exclaimed Karia and snatched Ranma's arm. "Follow me, then!"
With no option but to comply, Ranma was pulled along through the entrance to the Fire Arena platform, while Karia's group directed Ranma's group to the stands, where a few stragglers from the last battle were on their way out, stopping this when they saw two persons enter the arena, one of them being a Weapons-Master, and the other a black-furred werecat.
Unscheduled fights were not too uncommon, but not all of them took place within an arena, where fighting belongs … but the stragglers sat back down, deciding that they'd rather get more value out of their money by watching what promised to be a great fight for free. Unfortunately, the ticket salespersons had gone home for the day when there were no more scheduled fights, and had planned on celebrating their profits for the day with co-workers, family and friends, and had thus missed the opportunity to earn money on this fight.
Once in the centre of the platform, Karia stopped and waited for her small crowd to find their seats.
"So, how are we going to do thi- WHOA!"
Ranma had to bend over backwards to avoid the rapid, and rudely unannounced, punch at his chest.
Planting his hands on the ground, Ranma flipped further back as well as into the air as Karia recovered from the missed punch and landed lightly on the ground, arms crossed across his chest just in time to block an incoming straight kick, sending him skidding a few feet while remaining erect, leaving a pair of tracks in the ground.
Seeing that her kick was ineffective, Karia dropped to the ground and rolled towards him in a ball.
When she was close enough, she shot her arms out to the ground and drove her feet for his chin, hoping Ranma would think she would have gone for his feet instead and not block her intended target.
Having seen the tensing of her arms, Ranma knew she was not going to sweep or kick his feet, as she would not need to balance on her arms as strongly to do that … so rather than attempting to block the kick, Ranma leapt over the Weapons-Master just as she was straightening out for the kick.
The sudden lack of an opponent did nothing to slow Karia down, as she, too, flipped into the air, chasing her elusive target.
In the air, Ranma dodged impossibly as Karia shot through the air where he had been, and landed in a roll to put some distance between him and the dark elf to better prepare himself for the battle.
Ranma was not the only one to take advantage of the elbow room, as Karia proved by pulling out a short sword from behind her back. As he had not seen it previously, Ranma started wondering whether or not she had concealed it, or if she had somehow summoned it to her with a gesture behind her back … a gesture that she did not want him to see.
While Ranma was pondering this, Karia took advantage of his distraction, and rushed in.
It was only a honed instinct made from fighting Kuno that saved Ranma from a rapid series of slashes, jabs and gouges, as he ducked, jumped and weaved through the attacks … unfortunately, Karia was better than Kuno ever was, so he was not avoiding the sword with any ease, and she was not giving him a chance to retaliate or counter her attacks. It was a good thing he was in hybrid form, or he wouldn't have been fast enough to avoid the sharp weapon, as painfully as he'd ever admit it.
But that didn't mean he was giving up.
Sooner or later, she'd need a moment to catch her breath, and when that moment came, he'd step things up a little.
Being a Weapons-Master did not mean, unfortunately, that one had unlimited stamina, something Karia was reminded of at the end of her series when she was starting to sweat and pant heavily, cursing herself for not having Ranma change forms before entering the Arena … she could technically call off the match for cheating since Ranma was in hybrid form, but she had dragged him in there in that form, and started the fight while he was in that form, so it would be childish to call off the match because of a battle condition she was partially to blame for.
At the end of her series, Karia jumped back to get some warning in case she was attacked while she was catching her second wind.
On his side of the platform, Ranma decided it was time to even the odds a little, and pulled out his sword in a similar manner to the way Karia had drawn her sword … only her sword had a visible blade when it was revealed.
-click!-
-sshummmmm!-
Ranma activated the sword on its lowest setting, making it dull, but still capable of leaving a sting where it scored a hit.
It wouldn't be very polite to break Karia's nice sword by cutting through it like a hot knife through butter … this wasn't a battle to see who was the toughest, it was to see which was more skilled, and brute force proved nothing.
The comparison made Ranma remember his fights with Ryoga. Those were prime examples on how skill and grace could overcome brute strength and rage any time … of course, there were a few times when Ryoga nearly won, but not for long.
The dull glow of the object in Ranma's hand caused Karia to pause briefly.
Was this magic?
Of course not, every Arena in Jade cut off the connection to the Ethereal Stream, meaning all magic and magical effects were nullified within the Arena, this included performing magic, shifting forms, or any effects or functions of a magical artefact.
That meant it could only be technology … the word was nearly taboo in Jade, and anything more evolved than basic clockwork was practically punishable by instant imprisonment without trial. Of course, a few people were lenient where this kind of infraction took place, so some advancements came about regardless, but the inventors were always found in the end, and most were punished in some way, if only by being ostracised by some for performing some illegal acts, and many of them ended up performing graver crimes, for which they would be thoroughly punished.
It was only after he had activated the sword that Ranma realised that he had just done what could be interpreted as the equivalent of using profane language and spitting in church.
After all, the Arenas were erected because of the Shadows, and the people were enslaved by them, and made to build their machines and Arenas. And the Shadows used technology to keep Jade under their thumbs. Now, the Arenas were more or less holy places for anti-technology, and he had violated the one he was in by using technology for a battle.
"Ranma," Karia called to him, breaking him from his internal string of insults to himself. "Did you craft that weapon yourself?"
"Yes," replied Ranma, knowing he was only dooming himself by admitting it.
"Good," Karia surprised Ranma with her approving tone, though her look told him they would have words over this later. "Or else I would have had to disqualify you from this battle."
Regardless of the offence Ranma had done to the Jade culture, Karia dashed in, and the battle was once more going on.
Mithril clashed against solidified energy repeatedly as the two fighters exchanged blows, swipes, jabs and stabs.
Ranma was at a disadvantage in some ways, and not in others.
Because of his father, he had not learned more than the crude basics of any weapon, and this was only so he'd know what to look for when he faced against a weapon user. So in that regard, Ranma was at a disadvantage, because Karia was no amateur with a sword.
However, Ranma's natural talent for picking up new talents, combined with his speed and agility, allowed him to learn sword moves as he fought, which he proved by using what he learned.
Karia started getting frustrated.
She had initially dominated this fight, much like she had the last time they fought, in her opinion, and was certain that she had trained hard enough to overcome her embarrassment at being not only tied with an unknown werecat from Earth realm, but also having her gym destroyed along with most of her clothing at the end of their last fight.
When they first clashed swords in this battle, Ranma seemed uncertain about how to wield it … oh, there were some traces of the basics in his tactics, so Karia didn't really worry until he started using his werecat speed to keep up with her, and then he started picking up on her moves, attacks, stances and defences … as though she was teaching him instead of fighting him.
Growling as she realised that she was getting nowhere fast, Karia leapt back from her opponent, and started charging up a Master Technique.
The moment Ranma sensed her leaping back, he knew she was up to something, and his suspicions were confirmed as he saw and felt tensing of muscles, and charging energies similar to G'Nolga the night before when she used what Luan had named a Master Technique.
The only way Ranma saw of countering an unknown attack, was to not be where it would hit, so he made this happen by jumping high into the air, towards the very edge of the platform, hoping that Karia had enough sense not to come charging at him full speed when there was a chance of her taking one step too many and ending up extremely crispy all over in a matter of seconds, a sensation no one would be alive to feel, thankfully.
Up in the stands, Julia turned to the old man that had been among those Karia had brought.
"Dad," she started. "Is this battle what I think it is?"
The old man looked at Julia, and though no sound passed his lips, he managed to explain the situation to his daughter.
"I see," replied Julia to the unheard explanation. "Ranma will not be happy. He finds people deciding his future for him to be … annoying. I would be lying if I said this would not be a betrayal of his trust, deciding his future without consulting him about it."
The old man frowned sternly.
"I know, dad, but he will still get angry, mark my words."
On the platform, the battle went on without the combatants paying any attention to their audience.
Not liking the heat of the lava so close to his fur, Ranma eventually had to leap away again.
As he landed, Karia came charging in with a straight kick at his chest … but she hit only air as Ranma dropped to the ground the instant his feet touched the ground.
Using the missed attack to his advantage, Ranma shot his hand for the distended leg, while using his right foot to strike at Karia's supporting knee.
Karia saw the hand going for her foot, and in her attempt to get it away before it grabbed her, so she missed the foot going for her legs until it struck her behind her knee, causing her to lose her balance, and fall plat on her back, rather undignified, and dropping her sword.
As soon as she realised what Ranma had done, Karia made to get up, only to feel cold, sharp metal against one side of her throat, and tingly energy against the other.
Looking up, she saw Ranma standing above her head, with his sword in one hand, her sword in the other, both crossed in a scissor-like form against her neck, there was no possible move for her to make without severely injuring herself, or killing herself … had he been standing the other way, above her chest, she had a chance, but he had apparently thought of that possibility.
"Checkmate," announced Ranma, breathing heavily. This fight was worse than that time he had to fight the two male Kunos, Happosai, Mousse and Ryoga at once … when he had nearly perfected his Heaven Blast of the Dragon.
"Agreed," admitted Karia carefully, lest she cut herself on her own sword. "I surrender."
Pulling away the swords, dropping Karia's and stowing away his own, Ranma extended a hand to assist her back to her feet, weary of any attempt at deception.
Karia accepted the hand, but was not as underhanded as Ranma suspected her to be.
In a similar move to Rhaoton, Karia raised Ranma's arm into the air and loudly declared him the winner.
It was only at that time that they allowed themselves to notice the audience, who had started cheering for Ranma the moment he had declared his own victory.
The group Karia had brought with her gathered away from the others and had a quick debate about something before leaving to meet with Karia outside.
In Middleton, Kim Possible was in Hell.
Well … that was a slight exaggeration … yet eerily close on some counts.
She was trapped with a roomful of cheerleaders, nothing unusual about that, true, but it was unusual that they had dropped practice in favour of gossiping.
This was not as strange, as most cheerleaders had the gift of gab. It was the subject of the gossip that had Kim rubbed the wrong way.
Ranma Koki.
Ever since she had been returned home by the scientist martial artist, Bonnie and her followers had been hounding her for details about him … if he looked as good in person as in the magazine articles, what kind of car he drove, where he lived, what his favourite dish was, if he had gotten anywhere with her, was he a good kisser, did he act snobbish because of the millions he made, or if he acted like a nerd.
The list went on and on, and because she knew him and had met him in person, there was no escape from the boy-crazed cheerleaders, because they left messages with her family whenever she was not reachable in person. The moment she logged onto her computer, she was bombarded with questions on her e-mail account, and strangely enough, when she marked one sender as unwanted, they would find another way to send her messages … they had numbered as many a two hundred in the few days since she had unintentionally revealed who had dropped her off after her last mission.
"Will you just shut up?" asked Kim, quite annoyed. "We still have cheer practice to do, you know."
No such luck … the girls were arguing about who would marry Ranma and have access to his fortune, and exactly how they would go about doing it, while shooting down the ideas of the others around them with similar poor logic to their own plans.
Thankfully, four musical notes from her Kimmunicator saved her from the torture of having to sit this event through to the end.
"Sorry, got to go!" she called as she made her way out of the gym.
Once in the hall, she pressed herself against the wall and took out the still beeping multi-task communications device.
"Unbelievably good timing, Wade!" she sighed in relief. "So, what's the sitch?"
"You're not going to like this, Kim," warned Wade. "I'm streaming you the security tape of the Maximum security prison where most of our 'regulars' end up, taken this morning."
Kim watched as the boring surveillance tape went suddenly dramatic as the bars of a cell went flying with great force. The bars embedded themselves in the wall across from it, and something went on in the cell that wasn't seen or heard because of the angle and lack of audio recording on the camera. All that was seen were dim shadows on the floor emanating from the cell … there were three of them.
Suddenly, a very familiar face appeared from the cell … Dr Drakken … and he was dragging along two people in their late teens, Asian by the look of them.
But how had the two extra persons ended up in Dr Drakken's cell?
As far as she knew, the man had his own cell because he was so insufferable that those inmates that had shared a cell with him had complained about human rights violations based on his incessant ranting and maniacal scheming.
And the two extras were carrying backpacks and sleeping bags as well, suggesting that they had not been present in the prison as inmates at all, but rather somehow gained access to the cell through unknown means, and were not entirely aware of where they had ended up.
But they didn't charge towards the camera, which was the only direction with any doors leading out of the ward, no, they headed for the wall at the far end of the corridor, where there wasn't even a window.
To Kim's immense surprise, the unknown male placed a single finger on the wall, and the camera suddenly stopped broadcasting, showing nothing but static.
"That's all there is," Wade added and cut into the image. "The camera was destroyed by an explosion that blew a hole through the wall, which is a remarkable feat, considering it's about as thick as a compact car is long."
"Did you get an ID on the two others?" asked Kim. "If they used explosives, why was the camera destroyed before they could set them up?"
"According to the investigators of the ironic crime scene found no traces of explosives … not even charring or gun powder residue. It was as if the wall spontaneously exploded through to the female side of the prison.
"Both Dr Drakken and Shego are on the loose as we speak.
"I managed to identify the two strangers, though," added Wade seriously. "They have a history with Ranma … the girl, Akane Tendo, was Ranma's fiancée, though there has been some debate about who had the right to that title-"
"I've heard about Ranma's romantic problems, Wade, continue, please," interrupted Kim. The retelling of the fiancée problems Ranma used to have could take more time than she was willing to sacrifice now that Dr Drakken was freed.
"Anyway, the boy is Ryoga Hibiki," continued Wade. "He has no real history with Ranma, apart from attending the same school at some point … he apparently had some kind of grudge against Ranma from that time, and has been reported seen all over the world at some point or another, proclaiming how he would kill Ranma for 'making me see Hell' or something like that."
"So, why were they freeing Drakken?"
"That's where it gets fuzzy. No one knows … they were sighted earlier that morning, seconds before ending up in Drakken's cell, actually, in Area 51."
"How?"
"The only viable explanation would be some kind of random teleportation device that sends them to wherever as soon as they get out of someone's sight. They were seen running into a UFO with only one exit and entrance, but no trace was found of them there, then they suddenly ended up in Drakken's cell."
"Ranma did mention one of his former rivals having a lousy sense of direction, but this isn't even close …" muttered Kim.
"So how do you plan on catching Drakken and Shego this time?"
"Same as last time, Wade … with the help of Ranma," stated Kim. "Contact him and inform him of what has happened. He deserves to know before things get out of hand, and hopefully, he'll agree to help. If those two are as skilled as they looked, I'm not going to manage catching them on my own …"
"Hey! Careful with that!"
"Yes, ma'am!"
A martial artist is not someone to trifle with … the same can be said about chefs and pregnant women … when all of those factors are combined, you've got a ticking time bomb of emotions both good and bad waiting to blow up at someone at the slightest of provocations, and with the skills and strength to make any unfortunate victim feel it for months.
The delivery man for Ucchans had been unfortunate enough to experience her wrath as a chef when he had not heeded her directions in bringing in the supplies for her okonomiyaki, and that was before he had gotten the news of her approaching bundle-of-joy. He still felt the ghostly pain left by the flat of her spatula from that time, so now that she was expecting, he took meticulous care not to excite her in any way.
The job was soon over, and the sun was starting to rise.
Just as the delivery man climbed into his truck, the radio was heard, and Kounji-san froze at the mention of the name "Ranma" in a discussion the early-morning host was having with his listeners.
"Who are they talking about?" asked the pregnant martial artist chef shakily. A bad sign.
"Probably this new tech-tycoon … Koki Ranma, I think … invented this little thing that can expand space within a pocket without changing the outside."
"Good," sighed the chef, relieved. "For a moment I thought they were talking about someone I knew … silly, right?"
"Of course it is, and what's even sillier, is that this kid is a martial artist on the side of making his gadgets … he's made billions of yen over the past months and still takes the time to go on training trips. Owns his own company, what was it? Wild Horse inc. something along those lines, and they produce those little gadgets that are being sold to a lot of satisfied and interested customers all over the world ... are you okay? You look a little pale …"
"I- I'm fine, thank you," replied the woman.
The delivery man nodded and drove off, hoping that this would not come back to bite him some day.
Meanwhile, back at the restaurant, Ukyo was trying to process this new information.
There was a possibility that Ranma was alive … the description of this Koki person was scarily similar to her Ranma. She would need to check this out somehow.
But what if this was her Ranma?
How could she face him with the child of another man growing inside of her?
Maybe she could pass it off as his … no, that wouldn't do … he'd find out somehow that she was lying, and then he'd never trust her again. He might even shun her entirely, despite her being his earliest childhood friend.
No, the best thing she could do, was to face him, hand him the truth of what had happened, and hope he wouldn't think too badly of her.
Now, she would need to find him, get to him, and try to keep Mousse from killing him. Perhaps doing a strip-search of the part-time duck for any concealed weapons before departure was in order … and not telling him where they were going or whom they would visit.
Author's Notes; Oh, come on … don't complain about how Kuno was handled … I know you can read a threat against the President into Kuno's angry rant about Ranma, especially if you are in a paranoid state of mind, which sadly many people are where angry foreigners waving around weapons of any kind … what has the world come to? And no, this is not a political statement … I have no opinion where politics are concerned, though I am not saying I have no opinion about the persons that are politicians, but those are private.
I am not saying that the American police is quick to jump to conclusions where foreigners are concerned … I've met a few, including a Sheriff, during my last visit, and they were all very friendly … the Sheriff even distorted his hat and ran around in at least two parades I was witness to, distributing candy to the kids waiting along the road with big plastic bags, and knocking over cameramen who were there to tape the event. If anyone in America is a threat, it's those kids, because they don't care whose toes they trample as long as they get the candy everyone in the parades were throwing at them.
I'm also not saying that cheerleaders in general are stupid, it is merely a stereotype and it I have seen very few exceptions through the only sources I have at my disposal … TV.
Also, I'm not entirely certain about the titles within the police … as I see it, a police officer is a policeman/policewoman with a rank … a constable would be just a step up from security guard, but still a policeperson.
I'm sorry for taking so long with each chapter lately, but for some reason, I find myself feeling sluggish and my mind wanders from one subject to another.
On the bright side, it has been several chapters since my last flame, which means I'm either doing something right, or they've given up or have become too conscious about their wording that they don't sound like flames anymore … I hope it's the first … I'd also like to add that I've now gotten past page 200 in writing this story, and that in a font size of 10 in Times New Roman with slightly widened frames on the page. Some out there might not think this is a lot, but believe me, it's very difficult filling those pages, and smaller font and bigger pages tend to make the amount of words that fit on one page increase … the record so far is nearly 1200, but on average, there is about 870 words a page … roughly.
I'm entering chapter fifteen in the rereading process, so if anyone has anything they want changed from that point on, say it now, or forever hold your peace …
Enough about that, I had an image appear in my head a few nights ago … Ranma, in hybrid form, meeting Leomon who asks what manner of digimon he was. Silly, I know, but flamers should not worry, I do not intend to go through with this, I just thought I should mention it …
For those who should be interested, I have jumped onto the forum wave … unfortunately, the system isn't as cooperative as I'd like, and it would not allow me to select genres to place the two I've made in … I just came up with some discoveries, and didn't feel the need to write entire stories around these ideas when Fanfiction dot net has this forum thingie available. Feel free to stop by the forums for a look, one is about Harry Potter and a theory surrounding his Sorting, the other is about Naruto and his Genin Examination where there seems to be a discrepancy in Naruto's age …
Small writing tip; "Definitely" and "Defiantly". If you say someone is "Defiant", you mean they show aggression or independence by refusing to obey someone. "Defiantly" is an adverb of "Defiant". You use "Definitely" to emphasise that something is the case, or to emphasise the strength of your intention or opinion.
Second writing tip; supplied by Dobe-Teme, "Fury" and "Furry". "Fury" is violent or very strong anger. A "Furry" animal is covered with thick, soft hair … If you describe something as "Furry", you mean that it has a soft rough texture like fur.
Credits; It's not entirely there yet, but in the Kim Possible section of the chapter, there is the beginning of an idea Nysk pointed out to me about gold digging women trying to get Ranma.
