Subject: [FFML] [Remotely SM/???][vignette] The Mother of Tears
From: "Elsa Bibat" <aerolbj@i-next.net>
Date: 11/17/2002, 2:41 PM
To: "FFML" <ffml@anifics.com>


Disclaimer:

 Sailormoon is owned by Naoko Takeuchi. All 
licenses belong to the proper people. This is 
used without permission. 

 This disclaimer also applies to several 
intellectual properties referred to in the text. 
Please be guided accordingly.

 This file can be freely distributed so long as 
it appears in its complete form and proper credit 
given. No part may be reproduced for monetary gain 
without permission from the author.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

The Mother of Tears 

A Dances Set to the Music of Time Vignette

by Elsa Bibat

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

1996: 

 "Airen take Shampoo on date!" 

 "Raaaanmaaa!!!"

 "Ranchan, look out!"

 "RANMA NO BAKA!!"

 And once again a certain pig-tailed martial artist
flew up into the sky. 

 "You know, my friend. There is one simple solution to 
that particular set of relationship problems." 

 The woman was dressed in a black tank top and tight
pair of jeans. A leather jacket was slung over the chair 
she was sitting on. 

 She was currently addressing a dead man. 

 "Kill Ranma." 

 The sounds of martial arts carnage, massive amount
of property damage and violent relationships blared out 
of the television set as the woman with raven hair watched 
with considering ice-blue eyes. One hand held a remote 
control carelessly laying on her lap, the other hand 
dangling a knife coated wth dried blood over the chair's 
side. An air of perfect nonchalance surrounded her, as if
everything were completely normal.

 Her companion was a slightly pudgy dead man in
the chair beside her. Duct-taped arms and legs, plus the 
rubber-ball muzzle in his mouth indicated a period of 
activity before his demise. His shirt was bloody from a 
slit throat. Glassy eyes peered from his dead face. Strange 
letters were sliced into his forehead, the blood from
them long dry.

 "That's what Buddha says," the woman continued
as she watched the show. "The thing is, the essential
premise of the show is similar to that of a rather 
obscure Buddhist tale about desire. But in that one, 
there were seven fiancees, to represent specific desires, 
etcetera, etcetera. See all of these people unhappy because
of Ranma? All of this unhappiness stems from desire. Desire
for some sort of ephemereal wish for satisfaction. All an 
illusion, of course. The only solution is to destroy those 
desires and everyone would be happy. So all you have to do 
for everyone to be happy is to kill Ranma. But, alas, 
commmercialism and the romantic notions of this modern age 
ruin what is supposed to be a tragic tale of morals and 
the illusion of the world and turn it into slapstick. Don't 
you agree?"

 The dead man didn't answer.

 "Come, come, you aren't totally dead. That's why you
have those marks on your forehead. Your essence will not 
leave until I release your bindings. You're still 
technically alive, you know. Your body is just dead. You 
can hear me and see me well enough. How about some action?"

 The dead man didn't answer. The young woman just shook 
her head.

 "Yes, I know it must be quite difficult but show at 
least some willpower. I killed you, damnit! You should have
at least some power in that ill-used brain of yours."

 The head slowly drooped forward and slumped on the
corpse's chest. The woman sighed.

 "You're not exactly responsive for a mostly dead 
person are you? Just goes to show the malaise of the modern 
human soul. That's why I'm doing this you know? Trying to
do you all a favor and all you care about is that someone's
been forced to shuffle off his mortal coil. I mean do you
seriously think about what I'm doing for you? I'm freeing
you, you ingrate. Look around you!"

 The corpse didn't respond to the woman's harangue as
she gestured around the apartment.

 "You are in your third decade of existence and _this_
is what you consider the pinnacle of your existence? Living
in an imaginary universe populated by drawings in motion? 
Four-color stories sold for three dollars? You're an 
overweight, socially inept, slightly delusional borderline
sociopath whose only channel for release seems to be found 
on paper and celluloid. Also the sexual imagery of that last
statement isn't a pun. I found your little stash and the box
of Kleenex while I was rummaging for a snack."

 A look of faint disgust fluttered over the woman's face
as she continued.

 "And you're angry with me?! I'm doing you a fucking
favor! The moment I cut those runes off your forehead, the 
entire bloody dream is ended and you'll be what you're 
supposed to be, not pretending, not dreaming, just being. And
all I had to do was to slit your fucking throat!"

 The statement was punctuated by a lightning slash in
the air by the bloody knife.

 "You humans can't seem to understand that all of this 
unpleasantness is for your own good. You mortals try to hunt 
me down for doing unfortunates like you these favors. I mean, 
trust me, after awhile, you'll end up thanking me one day. I 
should know. I'm the future. You'll all end up thanking me.

 "Even the white queen will thank me, you know. My big
sister's with her now, teaching her the basics. But she doesn't
know I'll be the one to give her the final lesson. That the 
future is like a baby. Born with lots of blood and pain."

 The woman glanced at the television and watched another
Ranma beating. A light laugh exploded from her lips before
she continued.

 "It's rather appropriate actually. A kingdom of crystal 
built on a foundation of bones. The white princess ascends to
her queenship with the bringing of death. White _is_ the color
of death in the East, isn't it?    
  
 "Soon, the white queen will realize the price of all
that her blood seeks.

 "The oldest gives her a drink from the well of 
knowledge. The spirit of the mother guides her hand. But it 
is me who will give her the drive to reach for the future. 
It's all rather mythic and legendary actually."

 The woman suddenly cocked her head to one side, as if
hearing a distant sound. She smiled as she stood up.

 "It seems our little party is about to receive a few
gatecrashers. Time to say goodbye."

 A quick double slash and the carved runes on the 
corpse's forehead were erased in a spray of bloody chunks. 
The woman smiled for a moment, her eyes following something 
invisible upward.

 Moments later, the room was empty with no sound except
for Akane shouting.

 "RANMA NO BAKA!!!"  

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * 

Author's Note:

 One of the secondary, albeit rather cheap, goals of 
my "Dances Set To The Music of Time" sequence is to have as
many crossovers as possible.

 Er...
 
 Let me rephrase that. As many _good_, _coherent_ and 
_logical_ crossovers as possible. I've always been leery of
mega-crossovers, since the different authors of the sources
of the characters aren't exactly meshing. 

 There is a way of course of crossing over some series 
that don't exactly mesh. One of them is what I did with Ranma.
He and his friends are totally fictional in the Dance sequence,
thus I can throw them in at some very odd times, without them
saving the world. ^_^ The other way is totally restructuring 
them and using the 'off-stage' manipulations that I liked so
much with the Wold-Newton crowd.

 That's why I proudly present my version of 'Skuld'.
My 'Belldandy' can be found in 'Conversations with Starlight'
and my 'Urd' can be found in 'The Education of Usagi Tsukino'.

 BTW, that little Buddhist folktale is quite real. I 
read it somewhere back in one of the many forgotten libraries
of my youth, during my Hinduphile kick where I devoured 
everything from the Ramayana to "Gandhi". It was actually more
like about the illusions of the world and a close approximation
could be made with that of the Korean "Dream of Nine Clouds"
and similar works in the East.

*********************************************************** 
*                                                         *
*            DANCES SET TO THE MUSIC OF TIME              *
*              An Epic History of Humanity                * 
*                 From The Age of Silver                  *
*                 To The Age of Crystal                   * 
*                      And Beyond                         * 
*                                                         * 
*     http://rakhal.com/florestica/elsa-bibat/index.html  *
*                                                         *
*          Other fanfiction by the same author:           * 
*   http://rakhal.com/florestica/elsa-bibat/index.html    *
*                                                         * 
*            Kindly archived by Larry F and               *
*           The Lost Library of Florestica:               *
*            http://rakhal.com/florestica/                *
*                                                         *
*********************************************************** 


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