C&C is, as always, more than welcome and greatly appreciated.

 
Just remember, Knight Writer, you asked for it. My comments are in square []
brackets. Hmm, perhaps I should reveal my prejudices while I am about this.
I seldom read pieces bearing a dark tag, let alone C&C them. I don't like
them as a general rule and may not like this one. I will, however, do my
best to give you objective comment and criticism.
 
Regards,
 
 
Don Granberry.
 
---------------------------------

    Ranma 1/2 was created by Rumiko Takashi and is used without permission.
Any characters in this fic who do not appear in the manga or anime, however,
are mine.

    Ranma 1/2
    The Rage

-------------------------------
 
[It would help crusty old farts like me to read your work if you would
insert blank lines between paragraphs.]

    Seven thousand yen.
 
    HIkaru Gosunkugi had to resist the urge to take it out of his wallet and
count it one more time to be certain he actually had it. He'd learned his
lesson about holding money where other people could see it.
 
[You have an erroneously capital "I" in Hikaru. Avoid the use of
contractions in narrative, especially if the do not suit the voice of the
POV you intend to use. In this case, because of the contraction, I will
assume you are establishing the POV with Gosunkugi.]

    Each step he took on the mostly empty sidewalk made the butterflies in
his stomach move with growing intensity. He couldn't believe he was doing
this, that he was actually going to buy it.
 
    It has to work, he thought as he rounded a corner that led into a small
side street. No, it will work.
 
    He knew. He didn't know how, but he knew that this was the one.
 
    His feet brought him to a halt outside his destination, a small wooden
door in an otherwise empty span of brick. The sign above the stained
entryway was a simple wooden banner proclaiming it "The Coven".
 
    Hikaru's hand siezed the doorknob and a fleeting chill ran through him.
His skin tingled, as if every sense were...
 
    "The hell with it," he grunted. Hikaru turned the knob and the door
swung inward without a sound.

    Time to spend that seven thousand yen...

    It was only his second time in The Coven, but he still felt the same
tingling dread he had the first time he had found the strange shop. The air
smelled of dust and a strange musk that seemed to creep up his nostrils to
carress his brain. The only light came from dimly burning candles which sat
atop shelves coated with dust and crates that held God-knew-what.
 
[caress]
 
    Hikaru treaded carefully through the congested, crooked ailes as the
incense prevalent in the air filled his chest and head. He called out
timidly for the owner.
 
[aisles] ["Prevalent" seems out of place here, I suggest using "pervading
the air" instead.]
 
    "Mister Gosunkugi," said a smooth velvet voice from the shadows.
 
["smooth as velvet", perhaps?]
 
    Hikaru turned to see him standing near a stack of boxes. A robe of dingy
red cloth hung from his rangy frame to fall to his feet in a cascade of
random folds. Not a hair was present on his tanned and weathered face, the
scalp covered in tattoos of a nature Hikaru could not divine.
 
    The eyes, however, held him fast. Deep green orbs that drew his own gaze
like twin magnets, windows to a soul both deep and old.
 
    Gosunkugi took another breath of the heady incence before answering,
"Mister Chandraskatta. You startled me."
 
[incense] [Need a comma rather than a period after "Chandraskatta", then
take the capital "Y" out  of the following "you".]

    "My apologies," the Indian man smiled. "May I assume you have come back
for it?"
 
[Replace the comma after "apologies" with a period and capitalize the "t" in
"the", or use the verb "said". Smiling alone will not allow a character to
utter dialogue.]
 
    "Y... yeah." Anxiety welled up in Hikaru's chest, growing with each
moment spent in the dark and dusty shop, from staring into Chandraskatta's
eyes.
 
    "You do not seem certain," he said in that same calm voice. "If you are
unsure, then I am afraid I cannot do business with you." Chandraskatta
turned then, dismissing Hikaru with a soft swish of his robes across the
floor.
 
[I strongly recommend you replace "he" in "he said" with "Chandrakatta",
then replace "Chandrakatta" in "Chandrakatta turned" with "he". As written,
the reader bounces around trying to figure out who spoke.]
 
    "WAIT!"
 
    "Yes?"
 
    "I... I am sure. I do want it!"

    Chandraskatta turned his head, one green eye studying him as if it could
see into his very soul.
 
[What happened to one of Chandraskatta's eyes? Did one of them suddenly
disappear or suddenly whither in his skull?]
 
    "Truly?"
 
    "Yes!"
 
    The Hindu man's left eye continued to gaze at him, into him, through him
for what felt like an eternity before he answered.
 
    "Very well. Wait here."
 
    Though he didn't say so, Hikaru felt a surge of relief when
Chandraskatta disappeared into the shadows the light of the scattered
candles didn't touch. The man's very presence was enough to make him feel as
if... what?
 
    That he was nothing. Those emerald eyes seemed to hold a universe of
wisdom, seeing all and missing none...
 
    "This incense must be getting me high," Hikaru muttered. Yeah, that had
to be it. Right?

    "Here it is, young man," Chandraskatta's voice drifted from the shadows
as the man glided into view. In his hands was a box made of dark oak, a gilt
handle atop it made of what looked to be solid gold.
 
[Minor foul on a descriptive detail. "Gilt" is the process by which gold
leaf is pressed onto an object. An object having been treated thus is
"gilded". Handles are seldom gilded for obvious reasons. This is a minor
flaw, however, as Gosunkugi might well think such a thing, being ignorant of
what he is observing.]
 
    Just the handle by itself's gotta be worth a million at least, Hikaru
thought to himself as Chandraskatta drew up in front of him.
 
    Before he realized what was happening, Hikaru had fished out the seven
thousand yen from his wallet and handed it over.
 
    "To open the box," Chandraskatta began, "merely twist the handle to the
right."
  
    "I got it," Hikaru replied as he hefted the box in his hands. It was
surprisingly light.
 
    "I am obliged to inform you that I do not accept returns, nor do I give
refunds."
 
    "No problem." Hikaru turned to leave, yet was stopped when one of
Chandraskatta's thin hands appeared on his shoulder. Various sygils were
tattooed in black ink on the skin, the grip strong as iron.
 
[M$-Word insists that "sygils" should be "sigils". However, it also insists
that "blythe" should be "blithe". I suggest you double check your spelling
on this one.]

    What the...?
 
    Hikaru looked closer. He could have sworn that one of those tatoos had
moved...
 
    "There is something else I must tell you," Chandraskatta said as he
turned Hikaru around to face him. Gosunkugi again found himself locked by
those haunting eyes, drowning in them, lost...
 
[And the proprietor suddenly has two eyes again.]
 
    "Mark these words, Hikaru Gosunkugi, and mark them well. What you hold
in your hands is the power you claim to crave.
 
    "It will grant you any wish, any at all, but only once. Do you know the
nature of a wish?"
 
    "Yes..."
 
    "We shall see."
 
    Hikaru shook his head, confused. Everything seemed so cloudy, so vague.
 
    "Be careful of what you wish. You will get it, and everything that comes
from it is yours to face and yours alone."
 
    "I understand." Hikaru turned around, walking to the door as fast as he
could without breaking into a run.
 
    "Enjoy your purchase," he heard Chandraskatta say as he stepped into the
clear air outside The Coven.
 
    "I know I will," Hikaru didn't hear the strange mystic say.
 
[Technically, this is a shift in POV from Gosunkugi to that of an
independent observer. No great sin, given the drama it adds to the scene,
save that the contraction, "didn't" spoils the voice for that particular
POV. Use "did not" in lieu of "didn't".]

-------------------------------------
 
[Nicely handled change in scene with both the setting and the POV
established early and very firmly. Good show!]

    Hikaru sat in his bedroom, staring at the antique box which rested in
front of him on the desk. The black wood taunted him with the mysteries of
what lay inside beyond the name of the object he had just bought for a
measly seven thousand yen. There were no seams visible, not even any that he
could feel with his fingers. How the hell was it supposed to open?
 
[Need a comma after "box" or change "which" to "that".]
 
    Maybe I should have the box appraised, he thought as he traced his
fingers over the woven golden threads of the handle. It might be worth
something.
 
[Consistency! The description of the handle is now different from that
previously given the reader.]
 
    He took a deep breath to steady his nerves. It was time. The handle
twisted easily, stopping with a soft click. Hikaru gasped as thin lines
lanced out from the gold handle across the top half of the box, the sections
sliding away one by one to reveal what lay beneath.
 
    It rested atop a plush cushion of purple silk in the center. The Wishing
Orb itself was rather small, a dull silver sphere only a little larger than
a softball.
 
[Hmm, I don't know that I would refer to a softball-sized object as "rather
small". If more than one reader flags this one, consider changing the
description.]
 
    It was a little less than Hikaru had expected. There was no fanfare, no
smoke that coalesced into a genie, no brilliant light. Just a silver orb in
a box.
 
[Replace the period after "light" to an em-dash. Otherwise, "Just a silver
orb in a box" is just a sentence fragment.]
 
    Okay, it was a lot less than he had been expecting.
 
    Dubiously, he hefted the orb in his right hand and held it to his face.
It was light, far too light to be solid silver. He'd been gypped again...
 
    -- I am listening --
 
    "What?!" Hikaru jerked in his seat, head whipping around to find the
source of the voice. "Who said that?!"
 
    -- I am listening --
 
    "Who are you?!"
 
    -- Speak with your mind, Hikaru Gosunkugi --
 
    -- Like this? --

    -- Yes --

    -- Who are you? --

    -- I am listening --

    Hikaru frowned slightly. Obviously, this kami... spirit... whatever,
wasn't big on conversation.
 
    -- This is where I make a wish, right? --
 
    -- Yes --
 
    Hikaru knew what he wanted. He wanted Akane to be his. He wanted her to
love him as much as he loved her!
 
    But there was a problem. Oh, yes, a big problem.
 
    Ranma would stand in his way, as he always did. Wishing for the strength
to defeat the pig-tailed bastard would not be enough. Ranma would keep
trying. He and Akane would never have peace...
 
[Use "Akane and I" or "Me and Akane" or even, "Hikaru and Akane", instead of
"He and Akane". Early in the scene, you established POV with an Omniscient
Observer relating events as it watched Hikaru Gosunkugi. As the scene
progresses, you allow the voice to wander about, as though we are sometimes
in Gosunkugi's POV and then drifting back into that of the Omniscient
Observer. I have not mentioned it previous to this point because the writing
has been smooth and the transitions so slick that no real harm was done to
the tale. However, you really should go back and correct these excursions in
POV, as it becomes unsupportable once you reach this point of the story.
Personally, I would jump into Gosunkugi's POV at the very beginning and
stick with him throughout. Your call, however, as this seems to be working
well enough.]
 

    What was it that made him so irresistable to women? What quirk did he
posess that made them want him so desperately no matter how much of a jerk
he was?
 
[irresistible, possess]
 
     -- Sometimes I just wish he were someone else entirely... --
 
    "OH SHIT!"
 
    -- It is done --
 
    -- HEY, WAIT! I DIDN'T MEAN IT! --
 
    Silence was his only reply. Hikaru glared at the Wishing Orb, unable to
believe how stupid he had just been.
 
    "I wanted to wish for Akane to love me, damn it!" he screamed as he
shook the orb.
 
    "Hikaru? What are you doing up there?"
 
    "Nothing, mom!"
 
["Mom" should be capitalized.]
 
    He hung his head, berating his own stupidity. Wishing for Ranma to be
someone else? What the hell would that accomplish?

------------------------------------
 
[Change in scene abrupt, but the reader expected based on the ending of the
previous scene, so it is acceptable. POV established with Ranma--or seems to
be.]

    Ranma woke to find the sun in his eyes, and his father standing over
him.
 
    "Get up, boy!" Genma bellowed.
 
    "What do you want, old man?" Ranma growled. Just the sight of his father
first thing in the morning irritated him to no end.
 
    "I've been lax in your training, son. You've been getting lazy."
 
    "You're one to talk!" Ranma barked. Genma was really starting to piss
him off.
 
    "I said, get up! It's time to train!"
 
    Ranma rolled aside just in time to avoid his father's blow to the
stomach. He gained his feet in one fluid motion and attacked.

    Genma was caught completely by surprise at the speed of his son't
assault. Twin fists snatched at his gi with surprising strength and his feet
lost hold of the floor.
 
[POV shifted to Genma.]
 
    He was aware of the window glass shattering at his back, and righted
himself before hitting the ground. The boy was going to be agressive this
morning, eh? 
 
    "Get ready, you old fart!" he heard Ranma shout. Genma saw him bolt out
the window, legs tucked in and arms extended behind him. The elder Saotome
landed in a crouch and prepared for the diving kick that was sure to come.
 
    "MOKO TAKABISHA!"
 
    "What the hell?!" Genma barely managed to leap back before the ki orb
smacked the ground with murderous force, throwing a cloud of dust and debris
into the morning air.
 
    "Son, what are you doing?!"
 
    "You're the one who wanted to train, old man!" Ranma returned as he
landed in the crater left by his attack and charged.
 
    Genma soon realized that this whole training thing had been a bad idea
when he found himself struggling against the ferocity of Ranma's attack.
Despite his best efforts at dodging and evading, the near-amaguriken speed
of his son's blows still managed to connect.
 
    "RANMA!" A hard shot to the left shoulder... "What are you..."
Jackhammer blow to the solar plexus, breakfast coming up, blood?... "...
doing..." he wheezed just before a savage fist to the right temple sent
Genma Saotome's lights out.
 
[The phrase "sent Genma Saotome's lights out" doesn't work very well. I
suggest replacing "sent" with either "knocked" or "put".]

    Ranma stood panting over the unconscious form of his father, sanguine
rage singing in his blood. He wanted more, he wanted to fight!
 
[POV switched to Ranma and rightly so, given that Genma is now unconscious.
I suggest going back to the beginning of the scene and establishing POV with
Genma rather than Ranma at the outset.]
 
    "Next time you wanna fight, you worthless barrel of monkey shit," he
snarled, "you better bring the noise! And you better bring it louder than I
can!"
 
    He turned around to see several sets of eyes staring at him in complete
shock.
 
    "What?"
 
    "R... Ranma..." Soun stammered. "Was that... um... really necessary?"
 
    "He had it comin', and you know it. Aw, screw this, I'm goin' to
school."
 
    Ranma noticed with some satisfaction that the assembled Tendos did not
hesitate to get out of his way.

    "What," Akane began, "the hell was THAT all about?!"
 
    "Uncle Saotome must have really pissed in Ranma's corn flakes this
morning," Nabiki said in a worried voice.
 
    Akane stared up steps Ranma had taken, still trying to take in the
surreal scene that had played out in the garden. She had never seen Ranma
attack his own father with such ferocity, and what he had said!
 
[POV shifted to Akane, but necessarily so given that Ranma has departed the
scene.]
 
    She considered marching up there and asking what the bloody hell his
problem was, but decided that perhaps bothering Ranma right then would not
be a good idea.
 
    "Call an ambulance!" she heard Kasumi cry out. Akane ran out to where
her eldest sister knelt beside Genma and gasped in horror at the blood that
coated his mouth and stained the top of his gi. A hideous bruise had already
formed on the side of Genma's head, growing from deep purple to almost
black.
 
[On the whole, a very well written scene with only one minor glitch in
handling POV.]

------------------------------------------
 
[Another abrupt change in scene that works because the setting is something
the reader can easily anticipate given the ending of the previous scene. POV
established with Tatewaki Kuno in the first line.]

    Tatewaki Kuno waited stoically at the gates of Furinkan High that calm
autumn morning. The gentle breeze ruffled his hair and hakama, and his worn
mind replaced the school with a palace, his bokken a gleaming blade honed to
razor sharpness.
 
    The foul sorcerer Saotome would come through here, and this would be the
day of reckoning. The soundtrack from The Seven Samurai began to play in his
mind, and he already had a horrible haiku to his victory and his two loves
composed and available.
 
    The students just as stoically ignored him. Fights between Kuno and
Ranma were commonplace to the point of being mundane. No one was
particularly interested in seeing Kuno get his ass handed to him anymore.

    Ranma stomped toward the front gates of Furinkan Hellhole, his anger
growing with heach step. Akane hadn't followed him from the dojo, and so
much the better. He was in no mood to put up with that tomboy bull dyke
today.
 
[each] [Shift in POV from Kuno to Ranma, but a nicely handled shift that
does not upset the reader.]
 
    His fists clenched and unclenched, the desire to use them on someone...
ANYone... growing stronger and stronger. And really, who didn't deserve it?
After all the punishment he'd endured since coming to this backwater town,
wasn't it about time he started dishing some out, himself? How much longer
was he gonna be a fucking doormat for anyone who wanted to use him?
 
    Ranma's eyes narrowed as he spotted a familiar figure in a blue kendo
outfit standing at the front gate.
 
    "Goody," he sneered. "Looks like another prime candidate's shown up."
 
[The verb "sneered" does not serve as an adequate substitute for "said". You
may use "said with a sneer", but "sneered" by itself does not serve.]

    Kuno drew his noble blade as the sorcerer Saotome approached. The
vassals and serfs had already run for cover from the titanic - and
predetermined - battle that was about to commence.
 
[POV shifted from Ranma to that of Kuno. So long as you limit these shifts
to two characters in a fight scene set up the way this one is being set up,
you'll be okay.]
 
    In reality, few noticed. A couple of students saw the look on Ranma's
face, though, and felt sorry for the Blue Thunder of Furinkan High. Saotome
definitely looked pissed off.
 
[Unwarranted shift in POV to the crowd, not really contributing that much to
the scene.]
 
    "HOLD, CRETIN!" Kuno boomed. "Thou shall not escape the divine wrath of
Heaven this day!"

    Akane stopped near the entrance, thankful that she still worked out
every day. She saw Ranma, fists clenched and a look on his face that lanced
any anger she had over what he had done earlier.
 
[Shift in POV to Akane.]
 
    If Ranma had looked angry before, he looked absolutely bloodthirsty now.
 
    And Kuno was standing in his path...

    "You ready, Kuno?" Ranma said in a low voice. "You ready for me to shove
that bokken so far up your ass that you'll pick splinters outta your teeth?"
 
    "You..." Kuno sputtered. "You... dare... to speak to me in such a..."
 
    His next words were lost along with several teeth as Ranma's
lighting-fast punch landed. Stars danced in Kuno's vision as he heard the
bone shatter and tasted the coppery tang of blood.
 
    More blows rained down on him, sending pain radiating throughout his
body as he felt ribs crack.
 
[POV shifted to Kuno, possibly that of the Omniscient Observer. The sentence
above this note should be made part of the preceding paragraph.]

    Akane watched in horror as Ranma began to beat on the prone
upperclassman with savage glee.
 
[POV shifted to Akane without transition.]
 
    "GET UP!" she heard Ranma scream as he yanked Kuno's battered and
bleeding form to its feet. Kuno's face was puffed and bloody, both eyes
already swollen shut. His jaw was disfigured, obviously destroyed.
 
    Horror welled up in her gut as Ranma's knee landed in Kuno's.

    "You like that?" Ranma roared, the lust to inflict pain nearly giving
him an erection. "You like that?! You want a little more?!"
 
[POV shifted to Ranma.]
 
    Kuno gurgled incoherently.
 
    "Comin' right up, shithead!"
 
    Ranma spun the bludgeoned Kuno around, sending him head-first into a
tree with a satisfying crack.
 
    Through the red haze that covered his vision, he noticed the crowd of
students. He could feel their fear. It called to him.

    What the hell's happening to me?
 
    The rage swelled yet again, and that tiny voice was lost in its torrent.

    "RANMA! STOP IT!"

    Akane stood there, fists ready. Ranma was out of control, a monster! He
faced her, eyes wild with hatred. His body trembled with anger, with pure
burning fury.

    Hikaru Gosunkugi watched, terrified at the insanity unfolding before
him.
 
[POV shifted to Gosunkugi.]
 
    "What have I done?" he asked himself. "What in God's name have I done?"
 
[What is both good and bad about this scene is that it manages to have a
quite a bit of emotional impact despite, not because of the bouncing POV.
That speaks well of the author's imagination and is ability to get his
vision across to the reader. However, it would have been a much better scene
had the author used the Independent Observer (non-omniscient) and allowed
the readers to infer the emotional content of the characters by describing
their reactions to the events.
 
To be sure, there are other ways to handle a scene such as this on, wile
still utilizing the numerous points of view the author tried to include, but
such a technique would have necessarily made the scene about three times as
long as it is now. Given the import that this scene has for the story, such
an increase in length would not necessarily be a bad thing. I urge a
re-write of this one.]




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