"Michael Noakes" <noakes_m@hotmail.com> wrote:
Akane Tendo climbed the stairs slowly, careful with the tray
she carried and the food it bore, though her thoughts lay
elsewhere. The day was a beautiful one and this was not lost
on her: the afternoon breeze carried with it a moist scent of
grass and earth, the trilling of birds rang clear through the
house; and in the aftermath of the storm everything seemed
swept up in an impulse towards renewal. The oppressive
atmosphere of last night's waiting had dissipated like dew after
the sun's ascent, and the entire household virtually hummed
with relaxed happiness.
Kasumi's gentle presence followed the eldest sister
This makes it sound like you're referring to two different people.
Suggest rewording.
through the house as she cleaned and spoke softly with
Ranma's mother, the two occasionally giggling. Ukyou and
Nabiki argued cheerfully at the table, pitting university
economic theories against small-business financial realities. The
NABBY: I'm telling you, you're a fool not to downsize all your workers
and move your production overseas to where you can get away with paying
your workers minimal wages!
UKYO: What are you talking about? The only worker I have is Konatsu.
There's no one who works for less *anywhere.*
"Hey, I ain't no real girl! And it's not like it's the first
time I flash you."
flashed
The realization of his own capabilities for killing at that
moment struck him like a physical blow, and he shuddered and
fell back into the embrace of the futon. Ranma lay there as if
insensate, while his mind turned in upon itself. These thoughts
which he had avoided ever since battling Saffron, reawakened
by last night's events, could no longer be silenced. Is this what
I have trained for all my life, to kill? he questioned, then pushed
it aside as irrelevant. He had always know the Art's capacity
known
"Soon after," the reporter continued, "someone drove
or pushed Mr. Tanaka's car over the cliff's edge, crashing it
into the roof of the house below. Mr. and Ms. Suzuki, already
in bed for the night, were shocked awake by the car suddenly
falling through their kitchen roof."
Yeah, I'll bet, Nabiki thought. But you'd be surprised
how quickly you get used to that kind of thing. "It was
terrible!" Ms. Suzuki said, nearly in tears. "Hiro-chan and I
were cuddling, it being a Thursday night, you know, our special
night, and. . . ."
HIRO: Hey! Cuddling wasn't *that* terrible!
MRS. S: It might help if you showered first, dear.
Suddenly Genma spun in place, stabbing a finger at his
son, and his glasses glinted sharply in the afternoon sun.
"Today, I retrain you from the beginning!"
GENMA: We'll be done by the time you're thirty-two.
Ranma knelt, and Genma resumed his position opposite
him. The young martial artist listened with rapt attention as his
father and teacher began to speak on the last lesson he would
ever pass on to his son.
RANMA: Hurry up, Pop! The narrator says you're gonna kick the bucket in
this fic!
For most people at Tokyo University, their previous
small-town life had been easier and simpler. Nabiki laughed at
the idea. Life in Nerima had been _anything_ but easy, or
simple, and at times she found she greatly missed much of the
amusement that the chaos that was Ranma's daily life had
afforded her. University life had its own unique and very
enjoyable challenges, but they remained, for her, very mundane
and normal challenges. There was almost no one at school to
Suggest: very mundane and normal.
(already talking about challenges; avoid the repetition)
talk to about these feelings: she rarely spoke of home, for who
feelings; she (the colon doesn't seem to make sense there)
Her sister's fiance stepped into the room, a distant,
thoughtful look on his face. Nabiki grinned. Ranma,
thoughtful? Not even on his best days. "Yo, Ranma," she
called out, snapping him out of his reverie. "What's up?"
"Just thinking," he mumbled back. He noticed her bag.
"You heading home?"
"Yeah," she answered, and shrugged. "Gotta get back
to school. Classes to attend, essays to write, boyfriend to see." She
smirked as she placed emphasis on the last. "I'm sure you know how it is."
RANMA: No way! Me and him are just buddies!
Ranma could see his arguments were working: Akane
_wanted_ to be convinced, and why not? Suddenly thinking
yourself responsible for the death of innocent people, who
wouldn't want their guilt appeased? There's no weakness in
The number and person don't agree in that sentence.
Suddenly thinking herself responsible for the death of innocent people,
who wouldn't want her guilt appeased?
or
Suddenly thinking yourself responsible for the death of innocent people,
wouldn't you want your guilt appeased?
or something like that.
"Please," she said. "Don't go. Not yet. Just a few
more minutes?" And as he sat back down, glancing anxiously
at the thin crack of reddening sunlight he could make out
through her curtains, she smiled slightly, and that made it
worthwhile. "Besides," she added. "I'm not done with your
makeup yet. Can't leave a job half-done, can I?" She raised
one hand to forestall his protest. "Hey, you started this."
And then, so soft he barely hear it, she added, "Thank
you, Ranma."
RANMA: Akane...
AKANE: Yes, Ranma?
RANMA: Do you think... y'know, we could...
AKANE: Could what?
RANMA: ...could color my hair lime green?
AKANE: Oh. Uh, sure. It's not like anyone will notice.
Ryoga wandered listlessly around the dojo, careful to
never leave the confines of the four wooden walls. Nervous
tension and impatience were riding high among the gathered
members, but nowhere higher, he fancied, than within himself.
He knew what was approaching, had already fought with one -
- and lost, though he remained convinced that, had he not had
to defend that girl, Akako, he could have still pulled a victory.
It was getting late in the afternoon, and no plans, whether to
stay and fight, or to run, had been made yet. Where's Ranma,
he wondered, what's taking him so long? Ryoga itched to do
wondered; what (run-on sentence)
Dammit, Ranma! the lost boy swore. What was I to
you, in all of the many fights we've shared? A joke, a toy?
You humiliated me often enough -- and saved me often enough
as well. You've taken advantage of me without hesitation --
and just as easily forgiven a betrayal and sacrificed yourself to
save me. Laugh at my sense of direction yet help me when I
need it. Mock my curse but keep it a secret. You're an utter
Shouldn't these last two sentences be in past tense?
He suspected, however, as Akane drew the blusher
across his cheekbones, that few boyfriends put up with a full
makeover from their girlfriend. Especially when certain death
>from the realms beyond approached in the form of many big
monsters with really nasty teeth. Oh, sure, he mused, I've
Hm. That last line's a bit too Tim the Enchanter-esque for my tastes,
but maybe it's just me.
That ended with the wedding. Nodoka no longer
visited the restaurant, and in their few encounters, her
withdrawn manner had been, in comparison to her earlier
friendliness, positively chilling. Ukyou mourned that lost of
what had been the closest, perhaps, to a mother she had ever
known -- and she was determined to regain that closeness
again. So she turned back towards the woman, doing what she
could to avoid the fat man standing next to her, and tried to
strike up a conversation once again.
UKYO: Oh, hi, Mrs. Saotome! How about this weather! Think Ranma will
marry Akane? Oops! I wasn't going to mention that. Have you eaten yet?
Think they're having sex up there right now? Ack! I mentioned it again!
"Um, yeah, sure, sounds great," said Nabiki, raising her
hand. "Except in all the ways that it doesn't. Like, hello?
Non-combatant here. None martial-artist type, right? I've got
Non-martial
"The thing that attacked Shampoo and Mousse; last
night I hunted for it. I didn't find it, but one of it's brothers
its
"Pig-tailed girl!" exclaimed Tatewaki Kuno, rushing
forward to grab him in a tight embrace. "My heavenly beauty,
my vision of eternal radiant beauty, how I have missed thee,
how I have yearned for thee, how I have. . . ."
What, no comment on his make-up?
"That'll be mine," Nabiki said, coming down the stairs.
"Yo, Kuno-baby. Glad you could make it."
"Hey," the new arrival said, waving feebly with one hand while
clutching his stomach with the other. "I got your call and came as quickly
"Hey?" That's not a very Kuno-esque thing to say.
Ranma puzzled that over for a moment before saying,
"So you don't know nothin'?"
"You told me a big monster attacked you last night.
What kind of conclusion do you want me to draw: that it had a
predilection for arrogant, bull-headed boys who change into
girls?"
"Thanks."
RANMA: ... I think.
"So I assume," Cologne said, and nodded. "However,
we can only hope that they have overestimated themselves in
their arrogance." Her eyes narrowed. "For on this night, they
shall learn what it entails to attack a sister of the Joketsuku."
^^^^^^^^^
I don't think that's the right spelling.
Her father looked as gallant as she had ever seen him,
wearing the old brown dogi which had carried him through his
travels with Genma and Happosai. He stood stoically by the
Shouldn't he be wearing his samurai armor?
Cologne pogo'ed into the room. "It would appear that
pogoed (no omitted letters, so no ')
they wish to play a waiting game with us. Likely they expect us
to get either tired or impatient."
Ranma nodded and smiled grimly. "Not me. Soul of
ice."
Akane shivered against a night breeze, and the night
suddenly seemed darker and colder. Cologne tensed. "What
was that?"
RANMA: Soul of ice. Like I just said.
A barely audible 'snick', and sudden Mousse had a
suddenly
She opened her eyes and uncovered her ears, and
scrambled away from the sudden chaotic battle forming around
her. She choked down another scream at the scene revealed
before her. Everywhere, her friends and family were at each
others throat. And beyond them: a single, luminous eye the size
of a dinner plate hung suspended from the ceiling, and
unblinkingly it stared at the scene below. Some kind of
gelatinous fluid surrounded it, formed its body, and flowed and rippled
eerily along the entire surface of the ceiling. What the hell are
we fighting here, Akane thought, how the hell did this thing
thought; hell (run-on)
"What the hell?" Ranma muttered, shaking his head, as
Cologne swore vehemently in rapid Chinese at herself. Others
picked themselves off the floor, cursing or blinking in confusion,
or retrieving their scattered weapons from among the warm,
sticky fluid that now coated everything, including themselves.
Akane could tell at a quick glance that no one had been
wounded, not seriously -- but it had come so very, very close.
If she hadn't. . . but then, she was the only one that had not
been effected by that strange red haze.
affected
Not much to say, other than that I had originally intended the
battle scene to be included in this chapter. But doing so would
make this already long chapter ever more so, so I guess it'll
have to wait until part four. I just hadn't expected quite so
much character stuff and whatnot. Probably better this way,
since I'd rather avoid the 'half-story/half-fight' story structure
that the previous two chapters have used.
Not much to say here.... I like the story so far; the mix of action and
good character development seems just right. Looking forward to more of
this or of Choices.
Gary Kleppe
http://www.execpc.com/~kleppe/comics.html