Heh, been awhile and 3 address moves since I last
posted anything to the FFML. But I'm back, and crazier
then ever to boot.

-Shade
Ranger of the Crossover Fiancees
Holy Knight of Mihoshi
Creator of the Private Bets
Eager Follower of Ben Oliver's Works


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-- Attached file included as plaintext by Listar --
-- File: shadow.txt
-- Desc: shadow.txt

Another Fine Mess
by Where is Shade?

Disclaimer: Rowan Phoenix, Shadow (this one anyway),
the Guardian, and the Bard are Shade's. Other series
that follow should belong to others, otherwise something
is wrong with this universe.

~~~~~~~

In the Multiverse, there were worlds beyond measure, 
universes beyond the count of even a god's lifetime. 
And spanning the boundries between these infinite 
realities were waystations, places of rest for those 
who knew where to find them. 

The "Lucky Duck" was one such nexus point. The inn had been around 
since anyone could remember, a haven for those rogues and scoundrels 
with just enough principles to get themselves into trouble. 
Worn and battered, the large structure of wood and stone had
come to bear no small resemblence to the features of some great 
giant of ages past. Its formidable outer appearance was usually 
enough to discourage the curiousity of those who were not the 
place's trade. It was not a place where the respectable came to
call.

But it did not dissuade the three cloaked and hooded figures 
that approached under the glaring noon sun. 

They were the three who were one. Shadow of the Black, 
deadly assassin, thief, and necromancer. Guardian of 
the Light, holy paladin and white cleric. And Rowan, 
perhaps the most unusual of the three, whose simple 
cloak of grey on green revealed as little of the ranger 
as he himself did.

The three had seen much and all knew more of 
battle then peace. There were few who would 
offer them trouble, even in this place.

And they had business here today.

~~~~~~~

"I still think this is a bad idea."

Shadow pulled the hood of his black cloak further down over his head, 
wanting this business over and done with as soon as possible. He disliked 
having to come out during the day, especially at the request of that 
half-elven idiot. Although no longer as vulnerable to sunlight since 
forming the truce with his other parts, he still found the experience
to be quite unpleasant.

"The Bard asked us to meet him here. Why don't you complain to him?"

The Guardian drew back his white hood to shoot an irritated look 
at his counterpart, annoyed as always by his childish behavior. 
Even more then two thousand years later, their dark side still 
managed to get under his skin. 

"Enough, both of you."

The pair fell silent as their third counterpart 
studied the building in front of them with a slight
frown on his face.

{Strange, I wouldn't think this place to be one that the Bard would frequent.}

The other two nodded in unspoken agreement to his shared thought.
Normally the pervert stuck to places where the waitresses were 
pretty and easy to grab, fondle, and otherwise make a nuisance
of himself with. It was one of the half-elf's more disreputable 
and yet also consistant character traits.

"Should we reunite?"

Rowan considered the Guardian's suggestion 
for a long moment, but then finally shook his 
head. 

"No, I want us to have some flexibility 
should things turn out to be not be what they seem."

He ignored the half-amused snort from his right.

"Guardian, take point. Shadow, cover the flanks."

"On it."

"Hmmph."

The trio pushed their way through the front doors.

"Hey guys! What kept you?"

It was a near thing, but they managed to resist the urge to facefault.

"Over here! Isn't this place great! All the booze you can drink!!"

The Bard waved at them with a half-full mug in each hand 
from a booth in the far corner. It was obvious from looking 
at him that he'd already had more then a few of the house specials.
The fair haired minstrel was already flush in the cheeks and his
normal hyperness was now reaching tasmanian devil levels.

Rowan covered his face with his right hand, 
suddenly feeling the beginnings of a headache.
It was suddenly quite tempting to pretend that
they didn't know who the Bard was.

"Too bad about the service though. No pretty ladies to have fun with!"

Very tempting indeed.

"How many have you had already?"

"Uh..."

The Bard's green eyes briefly lost focus as he tried 
to find a brain cell that wasn't sloshed to the gills yet.

"I think I lost count after the sixth keg."

The Guardian winced in spite of himself. Even knowing 
the Bard's almost legendary capacity for alcohol, 
that level of drinking was nothing to take lightly.

"So why'd ya want me to come here anyway? 
Did your wives spook you out again?"

Shadow suddenly developed a twitch in his right eye.

"We -don't- spook," He growled, "Especially not from a bunch of -..."

Rowan's upraised hand cut him off.

"Wait a second, I thought *you* set the place to meet us here."

"Nope," The Bard wobbled, "I got my invitation from you guys."

"Shadow! Guardian!"

Both realized the danger at the same time 
Rowan did. All three began searching the area, 
looking for something, anything out of place.

The half-elf looked puzzled.

"What? Was it something I said?"

Then Shadow pointed toward the base of the Bard's table.

"There!"

Rowan wasted no time, he simply slammed down 
the heels of his palms against the wood.
The boards fell apart with a audible groan, 
revealing a sinister black metallic device 
buried inside. A faint hum could be heard
from coming from somewhere inside it. 

There was no mistaking the lethal design.

"It's a dimensional mine!!"

Screams and panicked yelling erupted from the other patrons
as they ran for the exits, a general scuffle breaking out 
as each person struggled to escape first. To be caught in
such a blast would mean an almost certain and terrible death.

Or worse.

"Bard, D-hop out of here now!"

The Guardian was busy trying to bring up 
a magical containment field around the table.

The device's humming was building to an almost 
painful intensity.

"Wha??"

"Damnit! There's no time!"

Rowan grabbed their friend by the scruff
of his outfit with one hand, the other already 
working on a teleport to get them both out of here.
They'd been caught flatfooted by such an
unexpected attack, and now he cursed himself
for not having been prepared.

It was simply his misfortune to miss the fact 
that the Bard, still drunk as a skunk, 
was *also* trying to initiate a dimensional
jump as he'd been told to at the same time.

Shadow alone was the one to spot the 
discrepency in the chaos. The innkeeper
behind the counter of wine and ale neither
panicked or fled. Instead his beady eyes 
were staring at the four with what could 
only be called a sense of anticipation.

"Bastard."

The dark assassin flexed his wrist once.
A throwing knife slid out of his long sleeve 
to come to rest comfortably in his hand. 

The innkeeper realized his peril too late.

With a quick overhand toss Shadow sent 
the blade spinning straight into the 
man's left eye and the soft brain matter 
that lay behind it.

Without even a groan the corpse slumped forward,
its head striking the counter with a dull thud. 

Shadow's piercing violet eyes gleamed briefly with a
muted sense of satisfaction as he started to finally 
make his own escape.

"Too clean a death for the likes of-"

And then the mine detonated.

(to be continued...)


-- Attached file included as plaintext by Listar --
-- File: shadow1.txt
-- Desc: shadow1.txt

Another Fine Mess 
Arc 1: A Shadow in Nerima
by Where has Shade gone?

Disclaimer: Prepare yourself, its going to be a very strange ride!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Act One: Unexpected Match
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was another typical day. The sun was shining. 
The few birds who hadn't been scared off by 
rampaging martial artists with no sense of 
self control were singing. And Ranma Saotome 
and Akane Tendo were arguing. 

A typical day, if you lived in Nerima.

"How was I supposed to know that Kodachi snuck into my bed last night?!"

"I don't want to hear another one of your lame excuses, Pervert!"

"Hey! Are you even listening to me? I said it wasn't my fault!"

"You sure looked like you enjoyed having her 
on top of you in the nude!"

"She used one of her paralysis roses on me! 
Of course I couldn't move!"

"Sure, Ranma, like you really need to be held down 
in order to sleep around with your harem!"

"They're not my harem, I never asked for any of this you know! 
Why do you always have to blame me for everything that happens?!"

"Because its always your fault! You pick on Ryoga! 
You flirt with every bimbo you meet! You're always 
trying to make me look like a fool!!"

"Psshh. Like you need any help with that."

"WHAT DID YOU SAY?!! Ranma YOU JERK!!!"

*POW*

And once again Ranma was earning frequent flier miles 
via Air Kawaiikune. The script rarely changed, whenever
his fiancee got mad or lost an argument (same thing, really)
she would either beat him into the ground or send him aloft
via one of her patented brute strength haymakers.

Of course being Ranma, he didn't let a little thing 
like entering low earth orbit stop him from trying 
to get the last word in.

"Violent tomboy!"

And Akane being Akane, had to add insult to injury.

"Ranma, I hate you!!"

She threw the half-empty juice can in her hand at the
rapidly ascending pig tailed martial artist, dousing
him with cold orange juice. 

Satisified for the moment that she'd extracted 
proper punishment from her fiance for now, 
Akane set off for school without a backward
glance.

She had better things to do then wait for a 
stupid cheating sex-changing freak who didn't
even have the guts to grovel for her divine
forgiveness like the unworthy foul sorcerer...

Akane shook her head a couple times to dislodge
the strange (although oddly appealing) thoughts.

"I'm spending *way* too much time around Kuno."

~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, Ranma-chan was just about to touch down 
in the middle of...well, somewhere. She rarely 
paid attention to any specific area unless there
was something of importance there (like free eats)
and in Nerima it would have been pointless anyway. 
Half of the streets in town had been rebuilt after 
brawls resulting from various enemies, fiancees,
and the occasional kill-the-pervert mob chasing 
after Happosai. 

This street seemed to be one of the better ones though,
and had she not been in her girl form at the time Ranma-chan
might have taken the time to appreciate that fact as 
she came in for a landing.

It took three skids, a tumble and a half twist before her
feet got enough traction on the ground to put the brakes 
on. Not her best performance. The pigtailed girl dusted 
herself off with her hands inside the small crater she'd
made.

"Bleh, she didn't have to turn me into girl too. Stupid tomboy."

Now where was she going to find hot water at this hour?

A look around her produced no clues. It seemed the residents
in this neighborhood had already gone off to work.

"Oh great. I go to school like this and that idiot Kuno
will be all over me again. What the heck do I have to
do in order for him to get the simple fact through
that pea brain of his that -I- -AM- -A- -GUY- ?!!"

Grumbling to herself, Ranma-chan stepped out of the hole
she'd made in the street and started resignedly trudging 
her way in the general direction of Furinkan High. She 
didn't even bother trying to go via the roofs, since that
would only have brought the young martial artist back to 
her problems sooner. She tried to look on the bright side, 
unfortunately in Ranma's life there *weren't* any bright sides.

"Face it Saotome, you're stuck in 
a rut and you're never getting out."

Ranma shook her head, suddenly feeling 
far older then her sixteen and a half years.

"Geh, what I wouldn't give to get out of this whole mess 
of everyone either trying to marry me or kill me or both.
If only there was a way I could be free of this whole mess, 
preferably before I reach the school. Yeah, right! I might 
as well ask for for an adventure with a princess or two 
tossed in for good measure. That'll be the day."

Be careful what you wish for.

Because sometimes you just might get it,
only not the way you were expecting.

~~~~~~

Disorientation.

Dizzying weakness.

And lots and lots of incredibly agonizing pain.

It was definitely not a good day to be evil.

Too weak to maintain its human guise,
what seemed to be a pool of liquid 
darkness thrashed wildly about under
the deadly morning sun like a rabid 
animal in its death throes. 

Unfortunately, the analogy was all too appropriate right now.

Because it *was* dying.

Cut off from its host, its very source,
it was losing energy with every passing 
moment. Conciousness faded in and out 
as more ruthless instincts took over. 

Survival. Always before its primary purpose, 
but never with such urgency as now. Not like 
the other times, this was the true death it 
faced now. The complete and utter annihilation 
it had brought to so many others before. 

Unacceptable. 

The primary host was unavailable.

Therefore a new one was needed. And quickly.

But where? The living darkness thrashed about,
sends dozens of long black tendrils whipping about
in every direction, vainly striving for any trace 
of a potential match in the immediate vicinity. 
But the cursed light of the sun blinded it, 
weakened its power and sapped away at its 
dwindling reserves. 

The shadow's frenzy increased to an almost maddened 
state as it stretched out with everything it had left,
seeking, seeking... 

Contact!

Just the faintest traces of magic, of such poor quality
that under normal circumstances would have been disregarded
without a second thought, but now was regarded with the same 
intensity as finding an oasis in the desert. Approaching slowly, 
but steadily. Almost was the scent enough to send it charging 
toward its prey, but a flicker of reason kept its first 
reflexive response in check.

It would only have one chance at this.

The fast fading entity coiled itself into a tight mass 
and mustered the last of its patience. It was a hunter,
and knew well the value of the proper moment.

Let its target get closer, then it would strike.

~~~~~~~~

Ranma-chan marched onwards towards the drudgery of school.
Her head sunk down in gloomy thoughts, she paid no attention
to the quiet emptiness around her. There were no birds here,
nor any other sounds of life. Only a strange silence. 

But Ranma thought nothing of it, her mind caught up in more 
important concerns, like Akane's upcoming home economics test. 
It was the clutz's sixth attempt to pass the course,
which of course would require an unwilling test subject.
For some strange reason the young Tendo was not a great 
believer in tasting her own cooking. Of course that wasn't
the only thing that she'd try out on her fiance. There were 
the oven mitts that conducted heat better then any glass dish,
the ragged hangmen's nooses she called scarves, and the crowning
disaster of trying to embroider one of his shirts. One of 
his *favorite* shirts. He still mourned for the custom tailored
and dyed chinese silk, which had been buried at sea with full honors.

So it could perhaps be excused that Ranma-chan 
was not on her guard as she walked down the street.
But that could also be partially attributed to the
nature of that which waited ahead for her.

It was only when she was almost to the point of 
stepping on it that she finally noticed the oddity.

"Huh," Ranma wondered, neither alarmed nor afraid, "What is that?"

A blackness where none should have been. A shadow with no source,
lying there all alone on the grey concrete. Even as she looked at
it the martial artist could see that it was dwindling, fading away
at the edges like ice on a hot stove. Its unnatural presence
suggested the work of magic, strange magic indeed.

Despite Saotome's normal repulsion towards such things
(except as a possible cure for his curse) a curious desire 
came upon her to try and touch this oddity. To discover if 
the mirror flat darkness was truly as smooth as it looked 
and it were cool to the touch or warm from the sun shining 
down upon it. Slowly, almost reluctantly, Ranma started to 
kneel down beside the fading pool, one hand already reaching 
out toward it.

Only to stop.

An internal struggle arose between the transformed 
boy's stubbornness and the strange compulsion. 

They were stuck in a deadlock. Neither side would 
give ground, but both lacked the strength necessary 
to finish their battle of wills. One had not the experience, 
while the other was too drained, too hungry to focus properly. 

Frustrated by its failure, the darkness took 
the only option left to it. Without warning, 
a score of thin obsidian tendrils erupted from
the surface of the pool, reaching for the
potential host.

~~~~~~~

Ranma's surprise was complete as the fading shadow struck.

She arched backward, narrowly missing the first attempt.
Quick as a whip the surprisingly fluid appendages crossed
back, forcing the buxom girl to stumble back with a curse.

"What in the blue blazes?!"

Now it was coming right at her!?

With the speed of desperation the darkness flowed toward her,
sending its several of its tendrils wide out to prevent any 
escape and herd its target into range.

Ranma-chan quickly found herself cornered against a wall, 
ducking and dodging to avoid being tagged by what seemed
to be a constant barrage of the now nearly translucent limbs.
For some reason her trusty danger sense (finely honed
after years of being stuck with her father Genma) seemed
to be confused, almost as if it was unable to determine
that this was an attack or not. Something about this just 
didn't *feel* right. 

A spark of anger grew from within the confusion.
While Ranma did not understand, she was also no 
mere wild beast to be brought to bay by mere shadows.

Her right hand darted out to seize her strange opponent.

Pride, as always, was the undoing of even the best.

~~~~~~~~

Old darkness and young mortal flesh met.

-Contact-

To Ranma's utter horror the ebony tendril 
she touched seemed to hold fast to her hand 
like rubber glue. Reflexively she tried to 
shake its purchase from himself, only to find 
that it would not be dislodged. It was in fact 
starting to sink into her very skin!

She struggled, but it seemed to only cause
the process to go faster. She could feel a 
strange tingling warmth starting to flow 
slowly up her fingers. 

Near panic now, Ranma-chan used her other hand
to try and pull free of the line that now connected
her with the no longer fading mass. 

But her efforts only resulted in a second avenue
of advance as a second tendril latched onto her
free hand and started to meld into her flesh.

More sensations of warmth started to tingle from
her toes. Looking down, Ranma-chan saw that while 
she had been concentrating on the dilemma 
of her hands, the darkness had not been so idle. 
More twisting lines now anchored her feet to
the shadow's main body. To her growing dismay,
she witnessed as the flow of blackness invaded
even the very shadow she made, turning it a 
darker shade then any moonless night.

"Let go a' me! Get away! Go away!!" 

The only response to her yells was an 
increase in the speed in which the shadowy
mass continued to absorb her, drawing her
inescapably into its lightless depths.

"Damnit!"

It wasn't fair, why did this have to happen to her?!
What had she done to deserve such a fate?!

"Why can't things ever go my way for once?!!"

Still Ranma-chan fought, still she struggled 
fruitlessly even as she was drawn down into 
the shadows. Her last sight was a glimpse of 
the still shining morning sun, before vision 
was cut off by complete and total darkness.

The street was quiet once more.

~~~~~~~~

But while the physical plane was calm,
the astral plane was another story.

In the endless barren plains that marked 
the realm of the mind, a solitary figure 
materialized.

His form was naked and battered, injuries of the spirit 
which were translated to physical wounds here. But though
the body was weakened, the will that drove it was not.

There was barrier here, a dark presence that 
resisted the merging of the two. 

Eyes of darkest purple coldly scanned the empty waste.

Only one would leave this place alive.

Shadow damn well meant for that someone to be him.

>From somewhere around him came a warning growl.

It was close.

But still he refused to be drawn out. Better to conserve
what strength he had left. If his foe thought him to be 
easy prey, the ex-villain would be more then happy to 
teach them otherwise.

Keen as his hearing was, it failed to pick up 
the sound of padded feet stalking toward him,
preparing to spring.

With a bloodthirsty roar, the great Cat pounced
upon Shadow's back, its great claws cruelly digging
into his sides, its great maw darting forward for 
the throat hold that would finish it.

But the dark assassin had not survived 
this long by being slow in a crisis.

He took the strikes to his side with barely a grunt, it was 
the beast's teeth (and the powerful jaws behind it) that were 
the real threat. His left arm came up to catch the feline under 
the throat, slamming its slavering muzzle shut with an audible 
snap a bare finger's width from his neck. His free hand 
stiffened to form a crude spear, even as he let himself be 
carried forward by the force of the giant Cat's lunge he swiveled
in mid-air and braced elbow against hip to let the creature's own 
weight thrust his fingers through its hide and into the softer flesh 
that lay behind it. The creature roared in pain, but its weight
was enough to force Shadow's shoulder out of its socket as it
landed upon him.

Ignoring the nerves screaming from his shoulder, he dug fingers 
deeper into the Cat's side, seeking a vital point to rend and tear. 
But the cunning beast had picked up a few tricks of its own.
It rolled across the area where Shadow was, trying to crush
him or gain a hold with its claws to pull him into range of
its waiting maw. Grimly the ex-villain clung close to his foe,
riding out the rolls but losing his grip in the monster's side
as his abused shoulder was slammed against the hard packed
ground repeatedly. 

Gritting his teeth, Shadow pushed off its hide with one foot 
and rolled a short distance to gain some breathing space. His
right arm hung uselessly at his side now, turning a painful
blue-black from the shoulder down. But a new fire burned in 
his eyes now, a dark primitive blaze that did not merely 
promise but declared death to all that it fell upon.

"Rrrrrrrrr!"

The low growl was the first real sound he had made so far in the fight.

The Cat hesitated. Never had any of its prey behaved in 
a such a manner, always before had they fled in fear and 
been devoured. It had taken its own wounds in the short 
melee and dark blood still dripped slowly from its side.

Shadow's form began to shift and blur as his mouth drew back
to reveal the change already taking place. Already razor sharp 
canines enlarged, growing out as the jaws reshaped into an
elongated dark muzzle. Other teeth, carnivore teeth,
revealed themselves. Hands came down to shift to paws 
as rich dark fur spread out across his body.

The Cat hissed loudly as it beheld its mortal enemy, a great black Wolf.

One powerful foreleg was hopelessly crumpled and 
lay limp, but the beast's powerful bite was no 
less lethal for it. And the eyes, those great 
beast eyes remained ever still that same 
merciless purple.

With their mutual fury at its peak, the two enraged 
creatures rushed forward into a final furious waltz 
of death.

Cat and Wolf slammed into each other. The force
of their charge pushing each back for a moment
while jaws snapped and reached. They closed the
short distance again in a dizzying fury of tooth
and talon, bits of fur and blood flew and spattered
as the beasts bit and clawed at each other. The
bitter adversaries rolled together in a near frenzy, 
each seeking the final hold that would end the battle. 

Finally the Cat seemed to gain the advantage
as rolled to the top and its teeth closed down 
on the Wolf's crippled leg. With a crunch, 
bone shattered under the power of those deadly jaws. 
The Wolf slavered and scratched, but not once did 
it ever cry out. The three remaining legs scratched 
furiously at the Cat's belly, opening long gashes, 
but without proper leverage they lacked the force 
to make the wounds truly deep. Indeed, the Wolf's 
struggles seemed to grow weaker and the great Cat's belly 
rumbled with cruel laughter. It eased its hold 
slightly, confident now in its foe's display of weakness.

In the manner of all cats, it would have some sport with its prey. 

A mistake. 

Its last.

Faster then the eye could follow, the great Wolf's head 
suddenly snaked out from the Cat's loosened hold and 
clamped onto the beast's neck with unbelievable strength.

The Cat howled in fury and terror, its claws futilely 
scratching and clawing in a vain attempt to relieve 
the incredible pressure that was crushing its neck.

But the beast would not falter, all of its power, 
all of its will was concentrated on the deadly bite.
It's eyes were filled with the killing madness,
and as the Cat looked into those raging violet orbs
its fear grew even greater. For in them it saw now 
that not even death would halt the grim mission of 
those jaws. 

The Cat wiggled and struggled still, 
but with each heartbeat its movements
grew less and less. It tried to yowl
in a last ditch effort to surrender, 
but could only manage a faint dry scream.

The Wolf's only response was to increase 
the force of its bite even more.

With a last despairing gurgle, the Cat expired.
A moment later a dull "crunch" sounded as 
the Wolf finally broke its neck.

And still it refused to let go.

Blood stained its muzzle and ran
down its once shining fur, but
the Wolf's bite grew only harder.

*Crash*

The jaws finally slammed shut. 
And the Cat's head toppled into the dust.

With a look of grim satisfaction 
the exhausted Wolf limped to its feet.

Slowly, painfully, it raised its battered 
head and howled once long and loud. 

A cry of victory.

Then it turned back to the severed head 
and body of its defeated foe.

With a hungry snarl, it began to feed.

~~~~~~~

With the final obstacle gone, assimilation quickly commenced.

Analysis of the host revealed an workable base to start with.
A strong lifeforce with a metabolism that fell within acceptable
levels, combined with a frame that was in exceptional physical
condition...for a mortal. 

However there were also several issues that needed to be addressed. 
A deficiency in certain nutrients necessary for the host to function
at optimal effiency was noted, as were several internal injuries
currently in remission but potentially a threat to host's long term
survival, and finally what appeared to be inherited flaws that 
reduced the host's ability to survive. 

Not the best material to work with,
but one made do with what was at hand.

The host's genetic code was stripped to its bare building blocks, 
unnecessary "waste" DNA and that containing anti-survival flaws 
were broken down into more basic and usable components and quickly 
put to use into rebuilding the host's frame into a more tolerable 
habitat. Although unable to provide the lacking nutrients, subtle 
manipulation of the host's metabolism would ensure that the host 
would be properly motivated to seek those on his own as well as 
provide additional material to finish assimilation. 

The darkness paused. It had done what it could with the limited
resources available, but in order to complete its joining a final
step was required. It would have to interact more directly with 
the host's psyche in order to "synch" with the residing soul. 
To do so would temporarily result in the dissipation of Shadow's 
consciousness as the core of the personality melded itself to 
the host, and he found himself curiously reluctant to take 
that last step.

Shadow had clung to his individuality ever since he could remember,
and had battled long and hard with the other aspects of Rowan Phoenix
during the Great Divide in order to retain his own identity.
To lose his personal sense of self, even for so short and necessary 
a task as this, was still extremely distasteful to him.

But in the end, Shadow was also a surviver.

~~~~~~

Shampoo (the beautiful chinese amazon much maligned by
those who didn't know her very well) was heading back 
to the Cat Cafe on her bicycle of death from a long and 
heavy take-out order near the outskirts of Nerima when
she suddenly saw an anomaly on the street ahead.

A crystal black chrysalis, just slightly over five 
feet long, hovered a few inches off the empty street.
Despite no visible anchor it did not move an inch from
its position when any breeze blew past. 

This was odd enough to make even the busy delivery girl 
curious as to the nature of the strange object.

Why couldn't these strange people ever put their things 
where they were supposed to go like the amazons did?
Ever since coming to this island, the young warrior
had seen nothing to dispute her personal belief that 
the Japanese were just plain crazy. Just look at all 
the examples of loudmouth stupid stick boy, stupid lost pig boy, 
too too stupid fat panda-man, and stupid violent pervert-girl!

The only redeeming trait of Japan (in Shampoo's opinion anyway)
was that it had produced Ranma Saotome, the man she had fallen 
head over heels in love with. He could be exasperatingly slow 
at times when it came to matters like marriage or dating,
but nobody could ever accuse Ranma of being stupid.

Her great grandmother would never have taken the time 
to teach an idiot such powerful techniques, not even
if they were practically family. Nor would a stupid
person have been able to keep off no less then four 
girls who were determined to drag him to the altar 
for as long as Ranma had.

Yes, Ranma was no fool. But Shampoo dearly 
wished that he wasn't *quite* so stubborn!

Upon closer examination, there was something quite strange
about the object (other then that it was defying the law
of gravity, which in Nerima that was only to be expected).
>From across the street the structure had appeared to be
opaque, a dark black that seemed to suck in all light
that fell upon it. Now that she was only a few feet from
it, Shampoo could see that her first impression had not
been quite accurate. The coffin shaped structure was
indeed black, but now she could make out faintly different 
shades and texture, and there seemed to be something inside!

And it was just big enough to be something like...a body.

Swallowing hard as an unfamilar feeling of dread crept
up her stomach, the normally unflappable amazon seriously
considered for a few moments to leave this mystery for 
someone else more capable of dealing with it.

Then her pride kicked in.

With one hand tightly clutching one of her colorful trademark bonbori,
the slightly nervous (amazons never admitted to fear, ever) warrior
cautiously reached out toward the seemingly benign object. All of her 
senses were alert for even the slightest hint of danger. Even though
she felt nothing actually suspicious from the coffin, something
about its very presence disturbed her on a primitive inner level.

Slowly, ever so carefully, her hand came into contact with the darkness.

With a soft *pop* the chrysalis vanished beneath her hand,
seeming to fall within itself until there was only the 
object that had been resting within and empty shadows.

Shampoo had hopped back with a gasp the moment 
the reaction to her touch had began. It had been
a strategic move to gain some room in order to
scan the results of action from a more objective 
perspective (and not because she had been scared 
out of her wits!). Upon seeing what she thought
was the object's destruction, Shampoo *really* 
hoped that it hadn't been owned by anyone and 
*really* *REALLY* hoped that the object hadn't 
been as expensive as it looked. She got enough
grief from her great grandmother just for
breaking down simple *walls*. The amazon shuddered 
to think of the punishment for destroying something
*valuable*.

Then her eyes widened as Shampoo finally got 
a good look at what had been inside the coffin.

Chinese Amazon pride and dignity were forgotten.

She screamed.

~~~~~~~~~~

Stepping through the wreckage of what had once been the inn
known as "The Lucky Duck", several vague figures approached
the center of the destruction through the still heavy clouds
of ash, soot, and less pleasant things in the air.

"At last, the Rangers of the Crossover Fiancees have been destroyed!"

"Are you sure we got them?"

"Of course! We spent over a year planning this, 
there was no way they could have gotten out in time."

"Are you absolutely certain?"

"Trust me, even if they managed to somehow survive
the mine's explosion, the resulting tear in the fabric
of space-time would have sent them hurtling into 
a dimensional vortex to their certain doom."

"But the cost! The cost was high. Not only just the expense 
of setting up this trap, but also one of our best agents gone 
just like that!"

They had found the body. The corpse and a small clear zone 
surrounding it were the only things untouched by the destruction 
that had taken the rest of the building. 

"He was a true Knight. He did his duty."

"But I thought the wards were supposed to protect him?
And his armor, what about his armor? How in the Nine Hells 
did they manage to take him?!"

One of the shorter figures reached down 
and slowly turned the body over.

"By her High Holiness!!"

A polished black hilt stuck out from the corpse's face
like some ghastly medal of honor. But what caused those
gathered there to recoil was the condition of their
dead agent. What had been a man of mature years
costumed in the guise of a mere innkeeper was now
nothing more then a withered husk. The skin was nearly
black with dry rot and decay, pulling the face
tightly into a horrible parody of death's grin.

"Blessed Untouched Continuum!"

Most horrifying of all were the eyes, the dull milky orbs 
that somehow still seemed to hint at the faintest traces 
of life. For they screamed out to those who looked upon them, 
empty of all hope, a silent wail of unending suffering and damnation.

"This is the Dark One's work."

The one who had turned the body over began to reach 
for the knife, intending to pull it loose from their
late comrade.

"Leave it be! Do not touch that weapon!"

The hand froze, mere inches from the hilt, which now 
seemed to have grown darker with some inner malevolence.

"It seems that the assassin's bite is not limited to just his blades."

More then one of those present made signs to ward off evil. 
Oddly enough, half of the motions appeared to be mimicking 
the use of a hammer-like object to bash something.

"Here, come take a look at this."

A kunoichi pointed toward ground zero, which could be distingished 
from the rest of the destruction by a very large crater in the 
floor that was fused to a glassy smoothness.

The air was hazy there, but clear enough to see 
what had caught her attention.

A faintly glowing yellow rose was stuck in the ground.
Torn and marked with burns, but the flower was still 
relatively intact. And above it, faint but still visible
to the eye, the remains of a dimensional portal.

"So much for your 'surefire' plan," The female ninja's 
voice dripped with scorn, "At least one of them managed
to deflect the blast and D-hop."

"No way! Its impossible to set coordinates for a dimensional 
leap inside the radius of a hyperhole vortex. The flux of 
escaping chrono-spacial energy would hopelessly scramble
any attempt and fry the fool crazy enough to go through the
portal. Not even those four would be insane enough to try that."

"You fool!"

"Silence!"

The arguing parties ceased.

"Our timetable is already short. We do not know for certain
that any of our enemies survived, but we also can not risk
the chance that they are. Therefore we will proceed on the
assumption that all of them are still out there. Most likely
hurt and lost, but alive."

There were nods of agreement, some reluctant, 
others with the eagerness of true fanatics.

"But for now at least they are out of our way, which means
phase two of our diabolical plan-"

*Cough**Cough*

"-Ahem! I mean our holy mission of divine mercy can begin."

"The Knights of the Holy Order of Mallets await your command, 
Culinary High Lord!"

"You already know your orders my faithful, bring swift death 
to the heretic known as Shade!"

A third of the figures bowed, muttering praises to their vengeful
goddess and slipped off to alert their fellow followers.

"I suppose that leaves us to deal with the Rangers?"

The kunoichi's tone was sarcastic, and there were 
grumbles from her fellow Knights. Why should *they*
get stuck with the hard job?

"Our alliance with your Order of The True Continuua 
was based on a mutual need to eliminate those meddling
fools, and we have yet to see your side carry out their 
part of the deal."

The woman stared hatefully at the shadowed figure.

"We won't forget this. Your drooling little fanboys
may have proved useful so far, but that won't always 
be so. And when that day comes there *will* be a reckoning 
between us."

With a final glare of contempt, the ninja and her companions 
stalked off. 

The tall figure chuckled evilly as they left.

"Hmmph. When the Great Saint of Always Rightness decrees it, 
we will show those infidels the power of Her Grace's 
blessed curry and holy blunt object."

The tall figure raised his foot and deliberately
crushed the rose, grinding it into the dirt until 
only a few scattered traces of faded yellow reamined.
Then he nodded to those remaining with him.

"Go forth, followers of the Short Haired One! 
We have worlds to convert to her rightous name!!"

(to be continued...)

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