Can it be? It is! It is! The last October message:

Flesh and Blood

Compass Points: Act IV

A Ranma 1/2 fanfiction

Disclaimer: Takahashi's paints, my easel.

Notes: This act screams to be written in a surrealist style.

Oh, I think we all remember that from 'I am Become' so we'll take it with a
grain of salt.

He rose from his chair and moved to the large steel door that he
could hear the guards pounding on. When their armor proved too weak
to batter down the steel that the Musk had mined, smelted, refined,
and then given to the Tendo clan to forge, they would resort to a
pneumatic ram.

Placing the card against the reverberating door, he tapped it once
with his pipe, pleased at the small glow that suffused it, sealing
it to the door. And more importantly, sealing the door from the outside.

Hmm. Nice little trinket

He studied the image on the card, the sign of infinity, and a
genially smiling man completely aware of the precipice he pranced
upon. He smirked, ignoring the other images -- the animal following
the figure, the flower in his hand. "Thanks, Dad."

Hmm. Not sure I follow. Is the image what's holding the flower?

Hands bound before her,

Might want to mention what's binding them. Handcuffs? Ropes? Those plastic
ties some use?

she sat in the empty supply closet, alone.

She had tested the bonds briefly, but given up.

The soldiers who had bound her knew what they were doing, and her own
foray into martial arts had been decidedly brief. She was the
farthest thing from a warrior she had ever known of.

Drop 'of'

She tried to calm herself. "I'm scared, Keitaro. They tied me up and
locked me in a closet. I don't know what's going on."

Keitaro: You fucked up, you trusting little twit. Now I got to help clean up
your mess.

"Never should 'ave trusted them," he remarked sadly. "I'ma gon' have
ta track ya down. Can you sing, Ranko?"

She stared at the slim light of light that shone underneath the door,
frowning. Not 'Miss Tendo', but 'Ranko'. Stifling a hysterical
giggle, she asked, "What should I sing?"

"Do you know 'Sweet Blue Days'?"

Keitaro: Ya' see, these Chinese are like Zentreadi. You sing to them, they
get confused and you can escape then.

A calm, collected corner of her mind noted and filed that information
away, as she sat up, still clad in her torn Chinese clothing. The
wound on her chest had sealed itself, now little more than a scar
and a memory. The more present part of her mind seethed icily, and
she extended a hand towards the glass barrier between her and the
sniveling, cowardly men before her.

I don't think that will be keeping them back for long.

***

Their relationship, he knew, was hardly traditional. It was something
that had begun out of necessity, and evolved from that.

What it had turned into, however, was something very real, and worth
more to him than all of the steel his people could mine for their
allies. More than his heritage.

And so much more -- oh so much more -- than their lives.

Hmm. Herb?

It galled her too that they were attempting to harness something they
didn't completely understand, but that wasn't her concern. She was
simply a liaison, and since the retrieval process for their weapon
of choice was complete, there was no need for her. A message came
across the communications link, informing her that Miss Tendo had
been placed in protective custody.

Heh. Even in the end, they refuse to call it what they're really doing.
"Protective custody' indeed.

The faint breeze picked up again, prompting her to raise her scarf
over her mouth. She chuckled wryly, climbing to her feet and staring
down on the remains below her. "Spiteful?" she asked. "It's too late
now. Nothing can be done... no power can revive you now, and if it
can, this entire area will be molten glass at this time tomorrow."

That could make things a bit complicated.

And, chillingly, the squealing static on her communicator shattered,
a faint voice saying, "I forgive you..."

Shia Hai bolted upright, dropping her cigarette. "Who said that?" she
snapped out, on edge from the voice.

The answer came, "... but I don't know if he can."

Heh. Probably not

Ranko belatedly realized that more than anything else, Keitaro had
been right. Not 'Ranma', oh no, 'Ranma' was a name for a person. The
being was so much more than merely a person. It was _the_ Ranma. And
she spoke, calm, composed, dulcet tones, "Who are you?"

Ranma: I'm cold, that's what I am. Do you know how long I was locked up in
that bloody block of ice?

Impossibly cerulean eyes blinked twice in confusion, and much of the
cold about the redhead seemed to dissipate. "Indeed?" Those same
blue eyes narrowed to slits, and the cold resumed, intensified. "And
you are responsible for what was done to Akane?"

Might be more appropriate to have Ranko ask what he means since I don't
think she knows what happened.

And in the center, a man robed in heat, a column of white and yellow
flames rising about him. The pillar of fire billowed upwards and
out, a Dragon of flame coiled protectively above the man. He leaned
forward, and as he did, so too did the Dragon of fire, hissing and
spitting angrily at an APC as it limped across the snow in the distance.

One more pile of slag coming up.

"Okay," Ranko said, eyeing the dragon of flames as it stepped
forward, one molten and flowing claw slamming heavily into the
earth. "Where should I go?" she asked, afraid.

"Left. AWAY from the APC. Towards the Tama. Don' get too close yet--
the guards nearby're still runnin' aroun' in power armor."

But in another ten minutes or so, they'll be gone too.

Ranko quivered, body tense with worry, and scrambled to her feet.
"Wait!" she shouted. "You can't fight! We can't fight! Not here!
It's not safe!"

Well, not safe for her anyway.

"I think that I can... if we can take her to Japan, and keep her
frozen, my father has a lab--" She cut off suddenly, as Ranma raised
a hand to silence her.

"No," she said calmly. "This can be fixed easily. Herb, you
overreact. Thaw her quickly -- she knows the Soul of Ice."

Ah, so she's not dead.

Kneeling where he was, the woman across his knees held tenderly to
his chest, he rocked back slowly. "You're okay?" he asked worriedly.

The woman stirred slowly, sleepily, and shivered. Ranko shook her
head. She'd raised the dead and watched Dragons fight. This was
merely another impossible thing to add to the list. "Airen... you're
warm tonight..."

Heh

And before Ranko, staring in confusion, and Ranma who was neither
smiling nor frowning, Herb, onetime Prince of the Musk, current
Chairman of the Council of the Qinghai Confederacy, wept. As if
magic, when his tears struck the woman in his arms, she changed; her
glamour dissolved. Flaxen locks gave way to violet strands, as eyes
and face shifted from a faintly Nordic woman of the ice to a woman
Ranko remembered from her own childhood.

Hmm. Odd transformation. Didn't see it coming.

Hands trembling, she gathered the two staffs

staves (I believe)

Ranko watched curiously, as the Amazon rose to her feet, standing
proudly, while Herb fretted over her, layers of heat washing off of

can drop the 'of'

"STOP right there!" a voice cried out, interrupting the woman.

Shan Pu dropped into a tight, ready stance, protectively gliding in
front of Ranko. Only a few meters ahead, Ranma stood, at her coldest
and calmest yet. Shia Hai stood at the end of the defile, a handgun
shaking in her grip.

Ranma: Oh dear, now we're in trouble. ^_^

"Hmm," Ranma mused aloud. "You saved her life."

He did?

"The spark is extinguished. I can repair the shell, perhaps... but I
cannot replace that vital spark." Ranma's eyes narrowed, and he
asked Herb, "Do you know where such a spark could come from?"

The man hedged, nodding. "Indeed, though it would only hold for a
month, perhaps more... but not longer."

Long enough.

"They've had about an hour, I hope that's long enough to say goodbye!"

Incoming?

Shan Pu quirked her lips in a smile. "You're a very special kind of
idiot, aren't you, Keitaro?"

She knows him?

The Amazon nodded in understanding. "I see. Tendo, you're well
advised to get aboard the Tama and wait with Koara there. If Herb
and Ranma cannot finish what they're doing here in time..." She
hesitated, grimacing. Waving a finger at Herb in warning, she
bounded away, bouncing upward, and removed a half-moment later, he

the

Nodding in understanding, Ranko dashed to the cargo section of the
craft. Keitaro watched her go, and shook his head, trailing after
her. There was a good chance they wouldn't be getting home at all,
if the Dragons couldn't hurry. "Well, Dad, you've helped me out so
far, maybe just one more time for the day? I promise I'll talk to
Mom..."

Wonder who his father is.

"Heh, well," Keitaro shoved the box after the last, grimacing.
"Anyway, Mom was special 'cause she was fey 'fore the Fall. Long
before." He paused, eyeing Ranko frankly. "She's a mess some days,
pining over Dad, afraid to go outside because people'll stop
belivin' in her..."

Odd fear.

The ball of contradictions wrapped in confusion and topped with an
accent that was sometimes there, and sometimes not slid smoothly
against her, and then beyond, dashing towards the pilot's
compartment. She shook herself out of her stupor, and stepped into
an alcove, monitoring the four that passed her. Not thinking about
things, and only aware of the Tama's rumbling engines lifting it
upwards, she slammed her palm against the emergency seal, which
slammed

Repatition of 'slammed.' I'd change one of them.

 the hatch shut with a jarring finality.

Not taking any more time, she gestured vaguely towards a
side-compartment, and dashed past the small crowd in the larger
corridor to take a seat next to Keitaro. He was seated in the pilots
seat,

three 'seat/ed's here. I'd change it to 'He was already in the pilot's
chair'

And there, about three hundred kilometers away, but closing quickly,
was whatever NR Xinjiang had chosen to fire at them. "Oh kami," she
breathed, as the computer chirped at the mainframe's analysis of the
object. "It's a nuke..."

Silence filled the cabin after her announcement. She looked worriedly

'glanced' (since you use 'looked' in the next sentence.)

over her shoulder to see that Herb, Ranma, Shan Pu and Ranma

Extra 'Ranma' there.

"I recreated her physical form using my own as a map. We need to take
her to Jusenkyou. There's a cursed pool there with the image of her
true form. If we can take her there, then the risk of her spirit
burning out will destroyed."

Ah. Clever.

Keitaro felt an unmistakable shiver ascend from his heels, climbing
his legs to rise up his spine on its way towards his scalp. Before
it could end, he stepped forward, between Herb and Shan Pu, and
dropped to one knee, head bowed. "Beggin' your pardon, Boss-man,
Boss-lady, but like I tol' you and Saffy, my loyalties are to this guy."

Heh

Herb nodded, smirking. "Why not," he said cockily. "I've got anger to
burn."

Nice turn of the phrase.

One particular detail clicked into place, as the rest sluggishly
followed. "I love you,"

Nice touch.

She stared at herself in the mirror, her reflection so familiar, and
at the same time, oddly alien. "I can live with this," she said,
smirking. "If this is the worst of it -- you always said that this
was the body you preferred anyway."

Heh

Herb picked up where Saffron trailed off, "You did promise that you
would serve me, Keitaro. And I can forgive you for choosing to serve
Ranma, but it does not please me."

"Hey," Keitaro grumbled, "no one's perfect. I thought I was supposed
ta follow you, but when Ranma talked in the Tama, that tol' me that
he was the one I hadda follow

Fair enough.

----------------------------
Author's notes:

And that's the end of act four. What to conclude the compass points
with? A journey to the center, of course...

Makes sense to me. Will have to get to that before too long.

D.B. Sommer

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