Started 4/2/00
First few sections sent to FFML 5/13/00
Hey...wow, this is my first post to the FFML...I'm sorta wondering what you
sorta folks think about this...I mean, I'd really like some C 'n C, if you
know what I mean. Please...I'm sorta stuck. Check out the end of the post
for a little more info....
I'm planning for the final version of this to be a one-shot, vaguely in the
continuity I'm working on.
< > Thoughts
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TOCATTA AND FUGUE
By J. S. Levine AKA Patch Monkey
Continuity: Presume that the activities documented in canon did occur
according to canon. However, some time before the series
begins, an alteration has been made.
Time: Several weeks, at least, after Manga Vol. 38
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"One can pursue one's creative urges.spiritual urges.and physical urges.
All have a place in the wll lived life." Lord Byron
"TO GIVE oneself up to indulgence in sensual pleasure, the base, common,
vulgar, unholy, unprofitable; and also to give oneself up to
self-mortification, the painful, unholy, unprofitable: both these two
extremes the Perfect One has avoided, and found out the Middle Path, which
makes one both to see and to know, which leads to peace, to discernment, to
enlightenment, to Nirvana." - Buddha
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Ranma looked all around before setting down his bento. He
felt out with his aura to make sure that none of the more rabid martial
artists in Nerima were around, and pulled a small woodcarved flute out of an
inner pocket in his red Chinese shirt. <I haven't played for the longest
time. I hope I've still got it>, he thought. <Few of these things I have
are so precious. I know the arts of war...I know the works of Shakespeare,
I can defeat the greatest of the Chinese Amazons, yet I can't reveal who I
am to the girl I love. I've got a mother who doesn't quite grasp modern
reality, even though I love her, and a father who is, for all intents and
purposes, a complete an utter moron. The Art is all, he says. The Art is
nothing without all other Arts. Music in motion. Acting on the stage. The
stroke of a brush. Anything Goes is a fusion of all, a representation of
all of human history and human ingenuity. And a brilliant man who needs
women's underwear to survive invented it, and its heirs are a man who hides
his own soul and a woman blinded by fury. How ironic.>
And with that, he began to play.
And with that, a tune began, and carried over the hills of
the field our Artist sat upon, and conveyed his soul to the world, if only
the world would listen. It would begin much like this, a rolling cresendo
of both despair and happiness. And someone heard his song as she rode on
her bicycle, and paid it no heed, save the fact that she felt someone's
despair and that same person's salvation on that tune. But who it was, she
would never know. But she knew the feeling of one whose despair and
salvation were the same, as she often felt that way about the young man she
loved, a young man who often wore a red shirt of her country.
The music of the flute picked up, a winding melody of
compassion lost and sometimes found, twisting though the office buildings
and homes, a man who was sometimes a pig picked up on the sound, and
understood for a brief moment that while he was lost on the outside,
whomever played the tune was equally as lost, but in a way that made even
the bandanna-clad boy begin to cry where he stood, even though he though
crying is for the weak, and something that Ranma would do, he knew that this
was not a cry of weakness.
Jumping, twisting, the melody rippled, and swept past
Mousse, who looked up in confusion at the melody's tune, and went to find
Cologne. An okonomiyaki began to burn as a chef stopped cooking at the
noise that conveyed emotion beyond emotion.
And then two people at last heard, and one felt her heart
surge at the knowledge that even though it couldn't possibly be the boy she
loved who saved her many a time and even brought her back to life, she felt
that maybe, no, absolutely he loved her and that even though it couldn't
possibly be him playing, because he couldn't play a flute or anything
anyway, and even if he was a jerk and all that, that she loved him too and
that soon she would tell him.
Perched upon a staff of wood and standing outside the
Nekohanten, a woman whose wisdom and knowledge was almost all-knowing, sat,
frowned, and realized that the young man playing the flute could never
become a part of the Amazons by marriage, and that he loved another, and
even if he didn't love her, he would never ever love her great-granddaughter
other than as a friend, and that she had to go talk to him and learn his
story. It did not hurt that she as well knew the song that the young man
played.
And with that, Cologne went inside, found a wood-carved
flute as old as she, and went to find Ranma.
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Ranma's song continued, for he never knew when to stop
playing, until he felt no need to play any more.
Cologne's melody began as she reached the field, and
intertwined with Ranma's, and the two melodies continued to mix and
harmonize for several more minutes, until Ranma stopped, and heard the flute
continue playing, and froze with a look of horror on his face. He was
discovered.
"Old ghoul, what do ya think you're doin'? I wanted to be
all alone."
"I highly doubt that, child. In fact, I am most surprised
at how well you can act. I had my suspicions, but the song you just played
confirmed them." spoke Cologne.
"Old ghoul, I don't know what you're talkin' about. Go
away, leave me alone."
"Very well, Child. Know this, former-son-in-law, that
Shampoo will not be happy when I tell her that she may not marry you, Ranma
Saotome."
"What...what do you mean, Hono...I mean, Old Ghoul?"
"Ranma, you speak the truth. It appears that you are much
different than the previous facts allowed for. I often wondered how someone
like you was able to master such techniques with such speed."
"Very well. Please allow me introduce myself."
"Child, you are not a man of wealth and taste."
"Elder?"
"Never mind, child."
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-
Meanwhile, Akane had neared the field in which Cologne and
Ranma sat, beginning to speak. <Damn him. Here I was, already to tell him
what I really felt, and he's hear with that great-grandmother of Shampoo's.
I bet she's trying to give him another cure in exchange for Shampoo marrying
him. I'm gonna hurt him. Badly.>
"Honored Elder, would you mind playing with me again for
another moment? I don't wish to speak quite yet," asked Ranma.
"Very well, former-son-in-law," answered Cologne.
<Wait a sec. Son-in-law? I bet he agreed to get married to
that Chinese bimbo. I'm not just gonna hurt him. I'm gonna kill him.>
"RAAAAAAAAANNNNMAAAAAAA!"
"Honored Elder, I believe we have a guest. I hope that
someday she'll be able think things through before acting."
Mallet at the ready, Akane charged towards Ranma, swung
down, and realized three things. One, she missed. Two, she no longer had
the aforementioned mallet. And three, Ranma was smiling at her. This, of
course, was a sign that things were about to get infinitely worse.
<That jerk had never been able to stop her mallet before. If he could, why
didn't he? Was he toying with her? She'd kill him. Playing with her like
that.> "What are you doing here with her?" queried Akane, as another mallet
began to manifest.
Cologne batted the second mallet away and leveled her
gnarled walking-hopping-beating stick at Akane.
"Sit, child."
"I was simply talking to the Honored Elder of the Chinese
Amazons. As she just said, I have been released from the laws regarding
Outsiders and rules of marriage into the tribe.
"Marriage! Ranma, I'm gonna kill you! Marrying that
Chinese Hussy!"
"Hold on, I said that in proper language. Of course no one
here but Cologne and Dr. Tofu would understand that. Let me
try that again in Ranmaese. Akane, I ain't never marrying Shampoo! I'd
much rather be married to a beautiful tomboy like you!"
"RANMA YOU what?!!?" Akane never had a chance. She fainted.
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(Where I'm at now)
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So anyway, please, please, please give me some ideas. Do you like it? Do
you hate it? Should I shoot my computer to prevent something like this in
the future? Write me, please! I have no life! I haven't hate a date for
months!
Wait! Just criticize my writing!
Other works can be found at http://maddhatter.cjb.net
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Jerry S. Levine
Reverend of The Universal Life Church
"Mom! I found Sideshow Bob's hideout and I got a
secret message to the police and I had a blimp
follow me and I was in an atomic blast but I'm
ok now!" - Lisa Simpson
maddhatter@earthling.net jlevine@wam.umd.edu
maddhatter@fruhead.com maddhatter@hushmail.com
maddxhatter@hotmail.com
AIM: maddxhattr
http://maddhatter.cjb.net