I hope this doesn't mean you are having trouble with Awkward Consequences.
Suggested changes: {before : after}
On Sat, 22 Jun 2002 16:18:18 -0400 Sam Vilsmeier <syp104@email.psu.edu>
wrote:
What did Ranma get? He got nothing, absolutely nothing. Not a celebration,
not a cake, and even a single utterance of "Happy Birthday, Ranma". It was
like {the : they} didn't care. He was the center of the all the chaos in Nerima. They
had all done crazy things, life altering things directly because of him. He
couldn't leave or escape, because they would hunt him down to the ends of
the earth just to start the same crap all over again.
Did they care? That was the question, and in his {his :} mind all signs pointed
to no. They couldn't give a damn about him, or what he felt. If {they, did : they did,}
this chaos, the madness that was slowly draining his confidence, his very
will to live, would have ended long ago.
Part of him wanted it to end, but he could only see one out, Seppuku, and he
really couldn't consider that an option. That would be giving up, and
Saotome Ranma *never* gives up. No matter the {odd : odds}, no matter the situation,
no matter how many times he falls on his face, he always wins. That is what
has kept him alive, the hope of a brighter tomorrow where he could be happy
and at peace. Unfortunately, hope can die... and his was slowly waning.
Ranma looked at the place where he would get his poison. The guys from
school were always acting as if this place was something special because
{they : it} carried lots of imported liquor. Of course, at his college, there were
{to : too} damn many Americans, and they probably just appreciated the reminder of
home.
The barkeep, a graying {Gaijin : gaijin} in his mid fifties turned to the martial
artist. "How old are you, kid?" He asked with a very heavy American accent.
"Eighteen... No, wait. I'm {Nineteen : nineteen}." mumbled Ranma, wondering what this was
about.
Oh, how she longed {the : to} travel the world, to once again visit the avenues of
Paris, the fast paced bustle of New York, the classical charm of Rome and
Athens, or one of a thousand other {location : places : locations} she had been in her life.
She had always relocated at least {one : once} every ten years. It spared her the
pain of watching friends and lovers grow old and die before her eyes. The
rebirth of the Senshi was both the best and {worse : worst} thing that had happened to
her in many, many years.
That is why she was {heading to : at : always heading to} this bar. To drink away her pain, and maybe
find someone special for the night, so that for one moment she could have a
connection with another human being. She just wanted a split second where
she was not alone in the world.
Setsuna was thrown out of her emotional monologue by a sharp impact as some
one {knocked into the : bumped into her} shoulder. The impact upset the balance of her barstool,
and sent her flying backwards. She winced as she prepared for the impact
with the cold hardwood floor, but it never came. She slowly opened her eyes,
and looked directly into a beautiful pair of gray-blue orbs. Eyes which
mirrored her own suffering.
"Err... I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to knock you over," muttered the
blushing young man who {own : owned} the eyes, as he helped Setsuna back to her feet.
"I'll be going now." He murmured as he walked away.
Ranma looked at the miniscule glass. The only alcohol he had ever had was
sake and maybe some beer. He slowly lifted the glass and swallowed brown
liquid {with in : within}.
Ranma looked turned his head to the woman. "Yeah, I got three of em... It's
all my old man's fault. He would engage me to lots of girls then run off
with the dowry, and {not : now} I'm stuck with his mess."
Ranma's eyes narrowed slightly, and he replied. "Yes, I do. I am, or at
least was a wanderer too. I spend ten years on the road training to be a
martial artist. I had no friends, no family, and no roots. Just the Art and
my baka old man." He paused, then continued, "And at least you can run from
your demons. Mine will hunt {: me} to the {end : ends} of the earth, and maybe then some."
The two continued to drink and talk for over an hour. After about ten or
twenty more shots Setsuna's alcohol resistance began to {where : wear} down while
Ranma's superhuman constitution began to give up.
Through slightly hazed vision, Setsuna looked over the young man at her
side. Damn, he was cute. He was nice too, and they could actually sympathies
with each other's problems. That in {its self : itself} was something rare. He might be
just what she was looking for...
"Fine with me!" laughed Ranma. "{so : So}, what ya wanna ask me."
This invite shocked Ranma clear out of his drunken haze. "Hey, Set-chan, the
last {think : thing} I need is another girl out to marry me!"
Unless that's just his blurred speech.
Ranma looked at the beautiful woman who was offering herself to him. His
mind was in conflict. His warning signals were {glairing : blaring : glaring}. This could mean
nothing but trouble. To do so would be betraying his fianc�es. His fianc�es?
What they hell did he care about their feelings? They just showed him how
much they cared him. They never listened to him, they always hit him, they
treated him like a piece of {meet : meat}, and they didn't even care enough to even
say Happy Birthday!
This sounds very similar in tone to Awkward Consequences.