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well surprise surprise...I've come up with a "new" story. I
did have the "pre-readers" look at this but only two got back
to me. I am going to put it on the list and let you guys pick
it apart. I really do appricate all the good comments on
style, pacing, and plot. I do think there are parts
that can use some work, I jsut don't want to get into a fight
over character's intellegence and motive so some plot points
were "dropped" because of that.
[Well, I find this one intriguing. Don�t weaken
characterization for our sake. The best revenge you can have
on a critic is to go ahead and write a good yarn your way.]
Anyway, on with the show. I look forward to your responses.
[All of which are enclosed in square [ ] brackets. I will
focus on plot related issues rather than grammaticaly ones,
but there are enough of those that I notice it, which is a
pretty good sign it needs work. I am not by any means
"grammar-sensitive," and my own writing needs constant
watching in this regard.]
Perotessa D.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The figure slowly traveling along the empty river bank was
dark, and radiated a strange sense of presence. This being,
whose soft leather boots left no footprints, was known to
most only as 'Master'."
The Master, dressed in soft leather boots, and covered with a
black cloak walked slowly along the river bank, a whistle in
his hand. Occasionally he would stop and lift the thin silver
tube to his lips.
Behind him a twig snapped and a low rumbling growl announced
the creature's presence.
"Ah! There you are," he said turning and peered into the
underbrush.
He could see nothing but the gleam of golden eyes.
"I have a mission for you," he said to the creature which
huddled in a deep concealing thicket.
[I suggest "...which huddled within the depths of a
concealing thicket."]
"You are to go to the surface world and guard my newest
prize." The brambles rustled, but the creature made no move
to leave its obscuring shelter.
"Come now," cajoled the Master. "How often is it that you get
to go to the
surface world? You know how important this is to me, and you
know how
much She wants to win."
He bent slightly to look deeper into the shadowy deadwood
thicket in an attempt to make his case. "Unfortunately for my
prize, her familiar just happens to be a cat. That is why I
am sending you. I am sure you'll put him at ease and help
safeguard him from Her influence and that damned familiar."
he chuckled softly.
[I suggest "Unfortunately for my prize, HER familiar ... " We
are otherwised confused about what is being said of whom.]
"Think of it as a vacation. Get some sun and enjoy yourself.
Your only limits are that you will have a mortal body and you
may not harm a soul. You are to guard my prize with your
life. I will come and retrieve you when the time is right."
[This one put me on my toes. The addressed minion is being
required to take a mortal body, but restrained from "harming
a soul." Now this does not, on the face of it, prevent the
minion from harming a mortal body other than its own,
provided the soul in said body goes unharmed. I don't know if
this is the condition you meant to set, but it reads that
way. I am flagging it for your review only. There is nothing
wrong with such a condition per se.]
A soft growling whine arose from the deadwood, then the great
beast turned and padded off into the surrounding darkness.
[You have now used "deadwood" twice. The suggests an area
where more than a few trees have fallen, or have been burned
and the tops and limbs are now being overgrown by bramble
vines and what have you--at least that's what it does for my
imagination. If that is you intent, great, but it could use a
tad more description. If it this is not your intent, you need
a good deal more description.]
Shadow Moon Productions Presents
A Ranma 1/2 fan fiction.
Ranma: Ookami
By
Perotessa Detwieler
Disclaimer: The characters of Ranma 1/2 belong to Rumiko
Takahashi and are used here without permission.
C&C is very welcome. Flames will be stomped out and the
offenders reported
to Smokey the Bear. It is after all fire season. Respond to
FFML or
privately to perotessa5@aol.com
Thanks.
'Tessa
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Ranma Saotome, probably the best martial artist of his
generation, narrowed his eyes as he sized up his opponent.
This opponent was a crafty devil! Slipping and sliding to
unpredictable positions and not following the rules of
battle!
Ranma tightened his hold on the knife and proceeded to chop
up the rest of the vegetables.
[Just a pointer, do as you please with it. It is usually best
to loosen one's grip on the knife, while tightening one's
grip on the vegetable to be cut. At least, I found this to be
so.]
He grumbled softly to himself. "I should be out
practicin'...but nnnnnooooooooooo, the old man wants dinner!
And who better to make it than me? I dunno why we couldn't
have asked Ucchan to come along. At least we'd get fed.
Anythin's is better than Akane's cooking." He snickered
softly and wiped his hands on his thighs.
Much to his disgust, he found he was a pretty good cook,
given the correct ingredients and time to whip something up.
If he had his way, no more of his old man's "camp rice is
nice".
<Ugh! What the hell were they doing up here in the mountains
anyways?!> He stewed. Just cause he got a few days off from
school the old man decided to pack him up and do some
training up in the mountains.
[I suggest, "Just cause I got a few days off, the old man
decides to pack me here to do some training." This avoids a
painful shift in POV.]
<Well, I guess it can't hurt. Its not like hanging around
the dojo is helpin' me any.> And they didn't bring the
tomboy along either, so he wouldn't be getting poisoned or
malleted on this trip. Not that he missed her or nothin'.
[Same painful occurs here.]
They'd arrived up in the mountains yesterday, stopping once
to get a few supplies. Ranma had even splurged and bought
some honey cakes for himself. He'd packed those away in a
place he could keep an eye on them and his pop couldn't.
[Okay, this should read, and somebody jump in if I'm wrong,
"They had arrived in the mountains the day before ... " For
some reason, using "yesterday" in this context makes all
kinds of alarms go off. It probably violates a rule, but I'm
damned if I can remember which one.]
[He must've learned this trick from Mousse. Who else could
have a prayer of hiding food from Genma?]
And now here he was 'round the old camp fire making dinner.
Grumbling, he tore off another piece of honey cake and popped
it into his mouth.
He frowned suddenly and looked up, scanning the clearing.
Something was out there. Then he saw it. It was a dog, but
unlike any type of dog he'd ever seen before.
It seemed to be very tall, broad across the shoulders, and a
strange grey color; rather like a wolf. But its eyes were
brown not the golden yellow he thought wolves were suppose to
have. A light almost orangeish brown to be sure, but brown
none the less.
It stood wearily at the edge of the clearing. It's ears
swiveled back, listening, unsure if it was alright to enter.
The coat was slick, as if it had shed out for the summer;
Ranma could see how lean the animal was. He felt a pang of
sympathy having seen lean times as well. He called out
softly, "Hey, dog...it's alright. Come on, I won't hurt you."
[Okay, I caught the word "summer" for the first time, right
here. It would help the setting considerably if you mentioned
the season up front. More on this later.]
The animal's ears pricked hearing the voice. Its eyes locked
onto Ranma. It stood where it was for a few moments,
sniffing the air, then walked stiffly out into the open.
Ranma's eyes quickly took note of the animal's bearing and
gait.
It wasn't injured and didn't seem sick. Just hungry and
unsure of the safety in leaving the safety of the woods.
Ranma couldn't help but hold his breath as he stared at the
magnificent animal that was slowly walking towards him.
The animal stopped when it was about three meters from Ranma
and the small camp fire. It made no move to come closer,
even though the smell of food must have been clawing at its
hunger.
Slowly, carefully, Ranma used his knife to cut off a large
hunk of the honey cake, then offered it to the dog. "Here
boy," he said as he tossed it to the animal.
The dog caught it on its downward trajectory with a snap of
its white teeth. A couple of quick chomps and the cake was
gone; the dog calmly licked its muzzle and sniffed around the
ground for crumbs.
Ranma sweatdropped, then, clearing his throat, went back to
his cooking, keeping an eye on his visitor and occasionally
tossing choice morsels to him. After a while, the dog had
calmed down and seemed more at ease. He would pad around the
clearing, nose to the ground, sniffing here and there.
Suddenly, he jerked his head up, gave one soft "Whuff!" and
wraithed out of the clearing in a light floating lope
instantly, disappearing into the surrounding shrubbery.
[Okay, I LIKED your misuse of the word wraith. Technically
it's a noun and therefore not amicable to conjugation. I
ain't gonna gripe, but you can bet someone else will. I do
wish you would reconsider the "sweatdropped" bit. That is a
visual gag, unsuitable for prose in my opinion--well OKAY! It
works in some prose pieces but it does not appear to work
here at all. It only works in a story where one gag falls out
of another and the "sweatdropped," "bigsweated,"
"facefaulted" crutches are not overused. Such stuff doesn't
work at this story's pace.]
Ranma, wondering what had frightened off his new friend,
turned to see his Pop walking through the brush, toward camp.
"Hey, ol' man! Where ya been? Looking for new 'Training
Sites'?" Ranma mimed taking a drink from an imaginary bottle.
Genma smacked Ranma lightly on the top of his head. "Foolish
boy, show some respect! I didn't drag you out here for you to
insult me or my intelligence."
<Can't insult what you ain't got.> thought Ranma.
[Okay, the premise is that Genma has brought Ranma out into
the boonies to improve the way he handles people. By having
Ranma say this to himself rather than to Genma, you
inadvertantly diminish the problem at hand. It would be
better for the story overall, if you have Ranma saying this
kind of thing aloud.]
"We're out here on an important training session this time,
boy." said Genma, dropping down to sit cross legged next to
the fire. "I know that the past two years really haven't
been easy on you or your fiancee. The wedding fiasco was
just the last straw. I talked to Tendo and we've agreed to
back off for a while on trying to persuade you and Akane into
getting married."
Ranma looked at his father, jaw sagging. "Huh?! Wha.....Why
now?!"
Genma crossed his arms over his chest and closed his eyes. "I
will admit that maybe I was a bit hasty and my judgement was
not the best in the matters of your future. But in all that
I've done, I've done it for you, Ranma. You're my son, my
heir, and while I don't say it often I am proud of you, son.
But while I have been training you as hard as I could to be
the best martial artist I possible, I must admit that I have
been neglectful in other aspects of your training. Mostly in
how you treat people, especially people of the opposite sex."
He opened his eyes and tilted his head slightly. The fading
sunlight glinted off his glasses.
[A reaction from Ranma at this point would be useful, such as
"Ranma's jaw sagged down to the region of his belly button at
this."]
"You know how important it is to both Tendo and I that our
schools are
continued and brought forward into the next century. Martial
Arts is a
dying Art. People like the Master and Elder Cologne are, for
the most
part, creatures of legend."
<Yeah...Scary bedtime stories to frighten little kids.>
thought Ranma sourly. He checked the pot, stirring it slowly
so that the meat didn't stick to the bottom.
[Again, you miss an opportunity to emphasize the problem
Ranma has with speaking before thinking by having him think
this rather than blurting it out.]
"They hold secrets that would be dangerous in normal,
undedicated martial artists' hands. They see in you something
special, Ranma, and that's why they've given you their time,
and their training. They both have carefully doled out their
wisdom to you and you, you ungrateful whelp, have done
nothing but be insulting, demeaning, and immature!"
[Well, not that Happosai is really worthy of that much
respect, but ya gotta point, almost no one can beat him in a
stand up fight, nor a sneaky one for that matter.]
"Oh please...they haven't taught me crap! Well...maybe the
Old Ghoul has, but the Freak ain't taught me nothin!" Ranma
railed.
Calmly, Genma pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.
"He's taught you perseverance, cunning, and evasivness.
Although you could use more lessons in that. How many times
now has he been able to get the drop on you and splash you
with cold water?"
Ranma's jaw dropped. He struggled to find words, then shook
himself slightly.
"There is no way you're gonna get me to believe that the ol'
freak is doing this for MY benefit."
"Believe what you will Ranma, but since he's returned and
started his torment training you've only gotten better at
your Art. If only Akane would give up her anger, or at least
leash it, she, too, would find a marked improvement in her
Art. But she is so used to her anger." Genma rubbed his jaw
thoughtfully. "Hopefully Tendo will be able to help her
harness it while we are away."
Ranma looked at his father dubiously. "You're trying to tell
that this was
a two pronged attack? You bring me up here to train me...and
Mister Tendo
is down in Nerima, going to teach Akane how to harness her
anger? Okay,
who are you, what have you done with my Pop?"
Instead of being offended, Genma cracked a smile. It was a
wicked smile and held promise that Ranma wasn't going to like
the motivating factors behind it...but it was a smile. "We
have until next Saturday, and I am going to get you to
control that smart mouth of yours even if I have to toss you
into the river every time you decide to have a foot sandwich.
Now what's for dinner? We'll have a few hours of sunlight
afterwards, and we'll get started."
Hesitantly, eyes still locked on his father, Ranma began to
fill up two bowls with the stew he had been cooking and
handed one of them to his sire.
<My God....the old man's snapped.>
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
For four days Genma had made good on his threat. He had
seemed determined to beat the concept of "think before you
speak" into Ranma in contrast to the ingrained "Do don't
think" scheme that was the foundation of Ranma's life
<training>. Of course the word "beat" was interchangeable
with the word "spar". And spar is what they did. Around the
clearing, in the forest, and over the river.
The river had become Ranma's bane and most detested place.
It seemed that he was unceremoniously dumped in it at least
twice a day. His father would lament on what a horrible and
unworthy student Ranma was. How he would cast the pearls of
wisdom that Genma was gifting him, upon the ground like slop
before swine.
He would then shed a couple of crocodile tears then go back
to camp leaving Ranma to pull himself out of the river.
<Author's Note: I want to keep this scene in. But it doesn't
work here and I dont know how to configure it so that it does
work. Any suggestions?>
[Personally, I think your instincts are quite good. This
scene DOES belong here at this point of the story. The
problem lies mainly with a paucity of description about the
training, and about the surroundings. We have no details to
make us understand why Ranma is suffering enough frustration
to crying at this point. Also, in describing the training,
and the cause for Genma throwing Ranma into the river, you
have the opportunity to inject a great deal of comedy,
pathos, even WAFF (father loves son) if you want it.]
Once Genma was gone, the dog would show up whining softly as
if in sympathy. Genma's training had been the most stringent
ever and Ranma was beginning to bow under the stress. Only
once had Ranma truly lost it and start to cry. His self
proclaimed shadow had wiped the tears away with his tongue.
With shaking hands, Ranma had pushed the dog's muzzle away.
"Hey, stop that." he said in a soft voice. "I really
shouldn't be crying; it's not manly."
Ranma-onna glared in the general direction that Genma had
gone then relaxed, drew her knees up to her chest, wrapped
her arms around them and sighed. Tentatively the dog lay down
by her side, offering it's warmth and companionship. Ranma-
onna absently rubbed the animal behind the ears as she
brooded.
[I'd keep this right where it is. From a plot development
standpoint, this is a perfect place. You just need to do some
more writing. Write with abandon, edit later. Don't try to do
both at one and the same time. What this needs is fleshing
out.]
<~End Scene~>
Ranma never had a pet before. Genma always said that
dependence on such an emotional crutch was a weakness. That
was a load of bull. Ranma guessed that it was just an excuse
to keep him isolated from other people, and dependant on his
father. Yet that had backfired as Ranma grew more independent
from Genma, isolated from his peers, and more obsessed with
the Art using it as an escape.
It was so unfair. For twelve years his father had insisted on
"Do don't Think!" behavior, and now in the pace of four days
he was trying to undo everything he'd taught his son! He
wanted Ranma to think before he acted, and to talk to people,
more specifically his tomboy of a fiancee Akane; to open up
to her to confide in her. Ranma growled softly. It wasn't
fair, but the prize might be worth it.
[Huh? What prize? Run that by us again. There was to be a
prize at the end of this ordeal? I think I know what you had
in mind, but can't be sure. ]
For the first couple of days the dog had refused to stay in
the clearing whenever Genma was around. Ranma would notice
him sulking in the forest beyond the light of the campfire.
At night, the dog come in and would curl up beside Ranma to
sleep, but in the morning he would be gone.
He glanced down at the dog whom he had started to call
Ookami. Ookami was skittish and mistrustful around Genma
growling softly whenever Genma stole food or barking when
they sparred. On more than one occasion Ranma actually
worried about Genma's safety during a spar as he would watch
Ookami become more and more agitated. Only once had the dog
actually done anything. Rushing in, biting the leg of
Genma's pant leg and pulling hard enough to upset the older
man and send him sprawling.
Ranma had then been witness to one of the strangest showdowns
he'd ever seen. Genma whirled around and stared at the dog.
They locked eyes and stood that way for many moments. A deep
rumbling growl started in Ookami's throat before Genma
relaxed, shoulders dropping and bowed to the dog.
[Nitpicking technical issue. Feel free to ignore if you
wish. The proper way to surrender to a dog is to roll onto
your back and expose your neck. Once the dog's dominance is
thus acknowledged, he will usually be a good deal less
aggressive. This may not be applicable for this dog.]
Ookami's growls stopped, his ears lifted pricking forwards
then he slowly walked away. Not out of the clearing, but
close enough to jump back into the fray if Genma tried any of
his dirty tricks.
Ranma wasn't sure if he should feel flattered or insulted.
Even a dog was standing up for him trying to protect him! It
was strange to think of the dog acting in such a human way.
By it's actions it was very intelligent. Ookami knew when he
was upset and when he was happy and when things were going
just fine. It was only natural, that after a while, Ranma
started to talk to the dog as if he were a person who could
understand him.
Ranma had never really understood why Akane would talk to P-
chan, but now that he had his own confidant, who he knew
wasn't going to tell anyone his fears and secrets, he found
himself talking to the dog more and more. He told Ookami
about Akane and the Tendos and why he was up here in the
mountains getting the tar beat out of him every day. Being
able to get the feelings out of his heart was very freeing
and liberating. After talking to Ookami about what he was
thinking, Ranma was ready to go back continue "training" with
his father.
[This paragraph should be used as guidline for about a five
hundred word bit. I'M SERIOUS! This is a case where you show,
not tell. Let us watch YOUR Ranma expresss his feelings to
Ookami. This helps us identify with the character and the
story. I know! It's Ranma, but whose Ranma? He ain't my Ranma
and he isn't Takahashi's Ranma. He's your Ranma. We need to
know what YOUR Ranma's take on life in Nerima. Otherewise, we
felt left out in the cold.]
There were times that Ranma would catch the dog watching him
with those brown eyes. Whenever Ranma would perform kata
alone, Ookami would be close by either sitting or laying down
with head on paws, but always his eyes would be on Ranma. At
first it had been a tad uncomfortable, but now it was nice to
know that there was someone around to watch his back. The
coughing "wuff" became the warning that Genma was
approaching; pulling Ranma out of his intense concentration
of the kata and on-alert for any of his pop's sneak attacks.
Now that the four days were up, and he had started to think
before speaking, he began to worry about Ookami. The dog
seemed to have attached itself to Ranma. Ranma knew he
couldn't take the dog with him back to Nerima. He didn't
know if Mister Tendo would allow him to keep a pet, much less
a wolf dog. Besides that, having a pet was a huge
responsibility, and he had enough trouble with trying to live
his own life.
[Great idea, but underwritten. True, in real life, training
seldom has those "breakthrough" moments. But then again,
sometimes it does. For the sake of drama, we need to see
Ranma's "breakthrough moment" in his new training. And
another thing, what in the blue, freezing blazes did Genma
come up with to train Ranma in this regard?]
Though he hated to think about it, he was probably going to
have to leave Ookami here in the forest. He wouldn't even
consider taking him down the mountain and turning him into
animal control. To him, that seemed like such a betrayal of
trust. He tried to justify abandoning Ookami by thinking,
<He was by himself and fine when we showed up he'll be fine
when we leave.> But even to his ears that sounded flimsy.
It was a vicious cycle that he had been pondering about for
days now.
Sighing, Ranma-onna stood up, and headed back for camp.
Ookami scrambled to his feet and followed.
Sitting at the fire was Genma, a bowl of stew in his hands.
He glanced up at Ranma-onna as she came and settled down on
the ground. Taking a small coffee pot which held warm water,
off it's warming stone. Ranma-onna poured some water into a
cup and waited for it to cool down to a tolerable
temperature.
Heeding her lessons, Ranma-onna hesitantly began. "So Pop,
when are we going back?"
"I think we'll start back tomorrow in the morning. We can
make it back to Nerima by late afternoon if we catch the
train."
<Sound good, I suppose.> though Ranma-onna. Guiltily she
glanced over at Ookami who sat to her left and slightly
behind her. <ther's no way I can take Ookami with me. A
train would be best. Quick fast separation. Just like with
Ukyo.> Ranma-onna frowned remembering how that had turned
out.
But Ukyo was a girl, Ookami was a dog. There was no way that
the dog would suddenly show up in Nerima. Not unless he was
a magical dog. Ranma-onna sighed. <Well wouldn't that be
great? The perfect end to a perfect trip.>
Ranma-onna checked the water, found it to be just right, and
poured it over her left arm and hand. Instantly she felt the
transformation that heralded the change back into his natural
form. He shook the excess moisture from his limb.
"I hope these last four days have helped a bit, Ranma." said
Genma brusquely. "I'd hate to return to Nerima to find that
I'll have to continue your training down there."
<Oh you'd like that wouldn't you?> thought Ranma sourly. <I'd
never let
you get away with it though mind. If you as much as tried,
I'd show you how much I was holding back. Hell's Cradle or
no! You know and I know that I can whip your sorry butt!>
"I seriously doubt that will happen, Pop." replied Ranma
softly.
Genma grunted. "Eat your dinner."
Ranma picked up a bowl and did as his father commanded. They
ate silently for a few moments then Genma put his bowl down.
"Ranma, you do realize that you can't take the dog with you."
Ranma didn't look at his father.
"I know." <Damn! Damn! Damn! I am sorry Ookami...>
"Make sure to bank the fire before you go to bed." said Genma
as he picked up his bowls and rose. "I am going down to the
river. Leave me some hot water would you?"
Ranma watched as his pop disappeared into the forest. He
turned slightly as Ookami let out a high pitched whining
yawn. The dog scratched behind its ear then padded over to
Ranma, pressing it's cold wet nose to Ranma's neck. Ranma
jumped, startled. "Hey Ookami, what is it boy?" The dog
thrust his nose under Ranma's arm requesting to be petted.
"You're going hunting huh?" asked the young man. "Well good
luck, and I hope to see you tomorrow." Ranma ruffled the
dog's prick-ears then watched with heavy heart as the dog
left.
<This really isn't fair, but jeez...Ookami...I am sorry.>
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
The next morning when Ranma woke up, he found Genma already
awake, his backpack for the most part packed up, and the fire
out. He also noticed that Ookami was no where to be seen.
"Hey morning, Pop."
"Don't laze about in bed too long, boy. We have a train to
catch."
Ranma grumbled and stretched. He had gone to bed half
dresses so he wouldn't have to waste time changing his
clothes. Automatically he got out of his sleeping bag and
started to finish packing. He tied the ankle cuffs of his
pants, put on a shirt, drank a cup of lukewarm tea, strapped
the bedroll to his backpack frame, put his shoes on, and then
looked at his father expectantly.
"Finished" he announced.
Genma chuckled. "Let's go."
And with that, Ranma and his father-sensei, left the
mountain. Only once did Ranma look back, his eyes searching
for a semi familiar grey shape.
<No Ookami. Where could he be?>
That question haunted the martial artist during the whole
trip back to Nerima.
[You've got the makings of a first-rate, bang up yarn here,
Pertussa. You just need to grit your teeth and do a little
more writing.
Regards,
Don Granberry]