And here _is_ prologue two.
C&C penitantly requested, etc.
Disclaimer: The situations and characters depicted in this
fanfiction may or may not be drawn from sources copyrighted
by other people than myself. I make no claim on those which
aren't mine.
This story is archived at http://www.kawaiikunee.com/slp/
Release 0.1 (Oct. 16, 1999)
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Shadow Lurker Productions presents
Ozymandias
Prologue Two
Shattered Visage
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Somewhere, there was a campfire, burning unevenly in the
warm summer night.
Somewhere, there was a sand painting, which told a story, as
sand paintings tend to do. Somewhere, there was a story, for
the sand painting to tell. Somewhere, there was a mirror,
which reflected the campfire's glow, and also the sand
painting, and also the stars. Probably the sand painting,
and probably the stars. Somewhere, there was a hammer, made
of stone.
Somewhere, there was a voice. Probably the voice of one
being, though by it's traits it might have been a voice of
many beings, speaking at once. Certainly, it was one of the
two. There aren't many other possibilities.
"Here," it said, "begin here."
The sand painting began to shift, changing shape. Probably
the sand painting. Or, perhaps it was really many sand
paintings, layered over one another like palimpsets on
parchment. Perhaps the many paintings were beginning, ever
so subtly, to diverge. Probably sand paintings, anyway.
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And somewhere, there was a dark pit, filled with claws. And
a small voice, crying. "Poppa! Ow! Please ... ow ... please
stop, kitties. I like _you_, I always liked you, why are you
hurting ... ai! ... me? Please!"
Pain and blood; desperation, need and desire. What else do
you need for magic? And Ranma cried out "Why?" And something
answered.
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Darkness hung complete now, heavy with the smell of cat and
thick with the virtual ozone prickle of anticipation. But at
least nothing was clawing him. Ranma splayed out flat and
small, trying to keep himself hid as his father had taught
him. Shakily, he wiped the sweat from his face (it stung in
the many tiny cuts across his cheek and arms) and swivelled
around, trying to see.
Light, suddenly, faint and blue, came from _behind_ him.
Ranma tried to swing around suddenly while also keeping low
to the ground on his splayed out limbs, and failed to
complete either task. With a thump, he sprawled onto his
backside and threw out his hands to either side to stabilize
himself, tried to rise, and froze.
Sitting on a slight rise in front of him, outlined in a pale
blue glow, was the Great-Great-Great-Granddaddy of All
Felines. By it's shape, something tigerish at about twenty
feet long. It was flanked on each side by what seemed to
Ranma to be about half of all the alley-cats in the world,
dark and grey and marked only by pale glow reflecting from
their eyes.
"Umm ..." Ranma felt about for something to say to break the
silence, "nice kitty?"
Its voice was deep and resonant, with savage, piercing
overtones. A compilation of every tiger's growl, every
leopard's scream, every alley cat's war-hiss in all the
world. "No." it said.
"No," it rose from its seat and stalked forward, towards
Ranma, "I don't think so at all." Ranma shrank back and
gulped, but at the same time yearned forward, to see if the
deep black fur was a soft as it appeared. "You say you are a
friend," the great cat went on, "yet you try to steal my
favor, the secret of Cat. Why should I be 'nice kitty'?"
"I, I wasn't tryin' ta steal nuthin', honest!" Ranma
quavered. "Poppa said I had to go inta the pit, so I'd get
strong. I gotta be strong ta be a Man among Men." Feebly he
reached out to try to pat the great leg now thrust down next
to him.
The great cat jumped backwards with a hiss-snarl, savagely
loud. Ranma shrank back into a small, terrified, ball and
froze. "Oh, of _course_!" it snarled, "You only wanted to
get 'strong'! That is certainly an acceptable reason to
pervert my rituals and call the favor of Cat upon someone
who _I_ never marked. Who _I_ never called. Who does not
seem to be of _my_ people or of _my_ naming. Certainly. Yet
what is this I smell? Someone seems to have prior claim.
Tell me, Child of Man; what is thy name?"
"Ranma," Ranma semi-whispered in terror, "my name's Ranma."
"Indeed. _Ranma_. Wild _horse_, I believe. So tell me, young
Ranma, why you want to have the power of Cat to be strong.
You are named for Horse are you not? If you want to be
'strong' and a 'Male among Males' I believe these fall into
the portfolio of your namesake. Why do you not call upon
Horse's favor, planteater, perhaps _he_ will aid thee."
"Indeed," said a voice made up of squeals and neighs and the
thunder of thousands of hooves, "perhaps I will."
Ranma jerked his head to the side as Cat flowed to one side
of the small depression in which Ranma lay. On the other
side stood Horse; a stallion built to the same proportion to
other horses as Cat was to other cats, glowing a soft white
and backed by many pale yellow or grey horses on a more
normal scale. Cat lowered his ears as the ally-cats in his
train began transmuting into dark and shadowy tigers and
lions.
"Continue your line of reasoning, brother Cat. I too am
curious as to why your flea-ridden furbags are menacing one
of _my_ humans."
"_Your_ humans, clover-stalker? Have your feeble wits gone
begging entirely? The marks of his consecration to _me_ are
over him."
Horse swelled his chest and flared his nostrils, mincing
forward a pace. "Perhaps my ears deceive me slightly," he
rumbled, "but I _thought_ I had heard you remark that the
child bore _my_ sign."
Cat lowered his head and crouched down, flexing a paw full
of six-inch ivory claws. "_Once_ perhaps. _Once_. Now he is
_mine_. Mine to grant power and favor, or ... not."
"Yours?" Horse rumbled, lowering his ears and shaking his
head. He minced slightly sideways, and Cat swiveled
slightly, tensing. Caught between the two titans, Ranma
whimpered.
"Still," said Cat suddenly, sitting up and wraping his tail
around his feet, "there _is_ an easy solution to this
problem ...."
"Oh, indeed?" said Horse, warily backing up a step or two.
"Oh, in_deed_." said Cat. "After all, if one is unsure of
someone's loyalties, should not one ask? Oh Child of Man,
you said that you only wanted to be 'friends'? Well then,
you need only say _who_ you wish to be friends _with_. And
then this matter can be speedily ..." the car-door sized
jaws swung closed with a *thud*, "... _resolved_."
"An eminently acceptable _resolution_, brother Cat. Indeed,
Child of Man," thunder of hooves, "_choose_."
"Yes," roars and growls, "_choose_."
Somewhere in the darkness, something chuckled. Do you
believe in cusp points? In the places where the destinies of
men and worlds divide?
You certainly should.
They believe in you ...
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Somewhere a voice said, "Now!"
And a hammer rose, and fell.
And a mirror cracked crazily across, shivered lines of
broken glass spreading out from the impact point in a crazy
spider-web. Reflections cracked and twisted, going in all
directions, crazily askew.
Probably glass. Probably reflections.
Probably.
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... and ...
"I don't like _either_ of you," Ranma cried, "you're _mean_!
Leave me alone!"
"So be it!" Snarls and thunder.
And Genma barely caught his son as the explosion blew him
out of the pit. 'An explosion? It wasn't supposed to do
that!' When he got to a safe distance from the burning pit
and put the boy down to examine him, his heart nearly
stopped. Deep gashes and what looked like bruises to the
point of broken bones covered Ranma's arms and legs and
there was a very unpleasant blue tinge to his lips.
Fortunately, Genma's life and training had given him a good
grounding in emergency medical techniques. 'My son!'
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... and ...
Ranma barely managed to whisper, "Nice kitty."
"So be it!" Growling roars as deep as all the caverns under
earth.
And Genma came to attentiveness as the random yowls suddenly
sounded as one voice. He blinked at the sight of a swarm of
alley-cats leaping out the pit in a swarm of paws and fur,
as though guided by a single mind.
'Hey, wait a minute!' he thought, 'They're attacking me! OH,
SH...."
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... and ...
Ranma croaked out, "My name's _Ranma_."
"So be it!" Thunder of a thousand hooves over a thousand
miles of open plains.
And Genma came to attentiveness as the random yowls suddenly
sounded as one, panicked, voice. He blinked at the sight of
a swarm of alley-cats leaping out the pit in a swarm of paws
and fur, as though fleeing something truly awful.
'Hey, wait a minute!' he thought, 'They're going to run over
_me_! OH, SH...."
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... and ...
"But I don' wanna 'choose'," Ranma whined, "can't I be
friends with _both_ of you?"
"Ummm." "Errr."
"You're both so pretty .... Please?"
There are forces in the world that can resist eight-year-old
kawaiiness. Even tear-streaked, timid, eight-year-old
kawaiiness. Great totem spirits are not known for being
among them.
"Errrr."
And Genma came to a startled attentiveness as the yowls from
within the pit stopped. He stalked over to the edge and
peered in to see his son engaged in the highly unmanly
practice of petting a bunch of cats. "Ranma!," he roared,
"If you're not going to train properly then get up here and
spar!"
"Okay, Poppa!" Ranma said brightly and jumped out of the
pit. No, not jumped. Flowed ....
Shortly Genma was lying on the ground shaking his head.
"Silly Poppa!" said Ranma, cheerfully, "Why're ya lyin' on
the ground? I thought ya wanted ta spar!"
"Ah ... not just now, M'boy." Genma said shakily, "Do some
kata so I can ... ah ... evaluate your progress."
Genma shook his head and stood up. He'd have to be a lot
more careful about keeping track of Ranma's progress,
obviously; and a lot sneakier, too. And no more untested
training manuals, this wasn't meant to be dangerous to
_him_.
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... and ...
Something snickered in the darkness. "But why should he have
to _choose_, brothers?" said a new voice. "After all, a lad
with such _potential_ ...." it came from a small (which is
to say, normal size), dirty dog-like animal, sitting on its
haunches equidistant between Horse and Cat. _Probably_
small, and _probably_ dog-like. It was hard to tell for
sure.
"Would it not be better for him to be friend to us _all_?
Then you, brother Cat, could favor him with speed and claws;
and you, brother Horse, could give him strength and ...
_stamina_. And I could tell him secrets, oh such secrets I
could tell him! Doesn't that sound better, Ranma?"
Ranma shook his head to clear it. "Ummm, yeah? Sure!"
"_Ex_cellent! Then it is settled!"
"Ummm." "Errr."
And Genma was awakened from a light doze by Ranma shaking
his arm. Grinning like a loon, Ranma said, "Com'on, old man,
wake up! I wanna get going!"
"Ranma!" Genma snapped, "We're staying here 'til you master
this technique!"
"Yeah, yeah! I _did_ that. Boring! Come _on_, let's _go_!"
Dazedly, Genma allowed himself to be towed. Boring? Well,
he'd have to try something else, then.
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Genma breathed a great sigh of relief. After four days, it
looked as though Ranma was waking up. He would have to do
better, he knew, this had been too close. Too greedy, he
silently judged. Too eager for his son's sake.
Well it was obvious that _that_ was a bad thing to be, and
he was just lucky that he had been able to overcome his own
folly and keep the boy alive. He would have to keep to
tested techniques henceforth. If it took a little longer, it
took a little longer; it wasn't as though he was on a
schedule. This was to be the culmination of his life, he
could afford the time it took to do it right.
He wondered if he should stop a temple for a while. Perhaps
he could consult with someone who knew what methods were
safe to use and how to judge. In any case, no more untested
training methods, and he must be more careful.
Gently, he stroked the boy's fine hair. It was his son,
after all, his _only_ son. He couldn't afford to lose him.
He loved him too much.
Slowly the blue eyes opened. "poppa?"
"Yes Ranma, it's me. You're going to be alright. And Ranma?"
"uhhuh?"
"I'm sorry, and I love you."
"'sokay, poppa. i love you, too."
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Covered in bandages, Genma trudged up the road. Behind him,
Ranma followed, frowning.
He wasn't fully weaned yet, he knew. Still lessons to learn.
But that old tom had better watch out. He wasn't going to
put up with ear-cuffs forever. Someday he'd break free, hunt
on his own, maybe even find a mate.
He grinned nastily at his father's back. Sometimes toms who
don't know how ... old ... they're getting get their _own_
ears cuffed, in the end. 'Who knows,' he thought, 'could be
fun.'
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Covered in bandages, Genma trudged up the road. Behind him,
Ranma followed, frowning.
He wasn't ready to leave the herd yet, he knew. Inside, he
shivered at the thought. But his sire had better watch out.
Herd-leaders get _old_, and colts grow up.
He grinned nastily at his father's back. One day _he'd_ be
the stallion.
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With a small bandage around his head, Genma trudged up the
road. Ranma bounced along behind him, grinning cheerfully.
This was fun! He'd never had friends he didn't have to go
away from before, and being stronger and faster was really
neat, too!
He wondered why he hadn't thought of it before, and resolved
to keep his eyes open in the future. Might be a whole _lot_
of friends out there! Never know until you look.
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Frowning distractedly at a guidebook, Genma trudged up the
road. Behind him Ranma followed, quietly.
Briefly, he regarded his father's back. Briefly, he looked
away, and scanned the countryside. Probably, he was scanning
for any threat that might be lurking there, a task a martial
artist trains himself to perform, constantly. Probably.
Bright-eyed with interest, he looked up, into the sky.
Smiling happily, he looked down, at the road. Looking up to
gauge the weather, looking down to check the footing.
Probably. Almost certainly, really. In some sense or other.
For a while, he watched a tree that grew beside the road,
his head cocked as though to listen to a voice that wasn't
there. For a while, he looked at a small bush with intense
interest, as though it was the most interesting thing in all
the world. As though it held a secret. Perhaps it did.
And then he smiled and linked his arms behind his head. And
turned to look down the road ahead for a long, long time.
Probably he was merely examining the day's walk, looking
along the road to see if he could see the end, and what it
would be like along the way. Probably. Certainly, he was
examining the journey, and the terrain the journey would be
over. In one sense or another. Without a doubt.
Smiling happily. At peace with the world, and everything in
it. So much to do. So much to see. Such a secret that he
knew, to hold tightly to along the way.
All at once he laughed, a great billow of boyish, high-
spirited glee. Perhaps it was the joy that comes with being
young and happy, outside in the sunshine on a beautiful
summer day. Or, perhaps, it was simply that he had thought
of a joke.
If it was a joke, it must have been a good one.
He laughed and laughed and laughed.
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And somewhere Coyote, who is also Raven, who is also Stone
Monkey, who is also Kokopelli, who is also Pan, who is also
Bacchus, who is also Ishtar, who is also Hermes, who is also
Serpent, who is also Chung Kuei, who is also Utgard Loki,
who is also Hanuman, who is also Kwaku Ananasi (when he can
be bothered), chuckled, sniggered, and grinned like a
maniac.
And danced a little dance on his lover, the Earth. And
yipped a little song to his lover, the Moon. And threw back
his wise, grizzled, ancient, terrible head.
Laughing. Always laughing.
It may have been joy in the day, for him too.
Or, for him too, it may have been a joke.
A wonderful joke, by the way he laughed. From one viewpoint
or other. No doubt something innocent and child-like.
Probably involving a banana.
No doubt.
No doubt at all.
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The Beginning.
Next, probably worldline one. Which is a lemon, in case you were wondering.
Actually, a lot of these worldlines are going to be lemons, I think. Funny, that.
Yours very respectfully,
Eric Hallstrom, CC, PhD, UBIP,etc.
--
www.kawaiikunee.com/slp/index.html
www.kawaiikunee.com
hallcon@mindspring.com
kawaii@kawaiikunee.com