[Fanfic][Ranma] Prologue & Chapter 1 - Slipping & Sliding
Cynthia Johnston
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* *
* Ranma 1/2: *
* *
* Slipping and Sliding *
* *
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-A Centauress Production-
(c) 1998 Centauress Productions
Authors forward:
This is my first fanfic. I am open to any C&C, but if you think
FLAMES are either, then just don't write. I'm planning for at least
20 or more chapters, plus Prolouge & Epilouge, so this is the first
of eleven parts. So without further ado, let's get part 1 on the
way!
All origional Ranma 1/2 characters (c) Rumiko Takahashi. My use
is in utmost respect and admiration of her genius and creativity. Any
other characters (c)1998 Centauress. SEND ANY C&C OR FANMAIL TO:
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* * = thought
[ ] = signs
< > = sound effects
- - = other communication...
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Prolouge
Cynthia pushed awat from her desk, and shook her head wearily.
*Goddess,* she chided herself, *the baloney just _never_ ends, does
it? All I do is work and sleep anymore.*
She went to her supervisor, and checked to see if any other work
still had to be done before she left for the weekend. "Sure," her
boss told her, "you can leave for the weekend; just be back bright
and early Monday, because we need to get started on the Marriston
project."
"Okay," she sighed. "I'll be in around 6 am Monday." Her boss
nodded, and Cynthia turned, so he wouldn't see her grim expression.
*That jerk,* she fumed, *doesnt he see that I want to transfer out
of this department because I _don't like_ big corporate accounts?* As
she walked toward the elevators, she passed a few friends; as they
saw her face, they mumbled various vauge greetings, and wished her a
good weekend. When she passed, they wiped the sweat from their brows
and quietly passed word of Cynthia's foul mood. It was common knowl-
edge that once she was in a mood like this, it would be a real bad
idea to piss her off further.
Unknowing, she arrived at the elevators to find that they were
empty of traffic. Quite a few times, a person had met with a real
tongue-lashing when they had moronically said something to the tall
blonde and she had turned on them. Within a few minutes, she had
reached the lobby, and calmed down to a slow simmer. *Why,* she
finally noticed, *it seems that I got to the lobby without anyone
asking me _what_ I was planning to do this weekend.* She stopped as
she walked out the door. *What AM I going to do this weekend?*
She stood on the corner, looking at the less famous Bay Bridge
as it crossed the bay into Oakland. *All my friends have other plans,
and none of them invited me along,* she groused silently. *I've seen
all the new movies that are showing, and it isn't time for shopping
for little goodies for myself- got enough of those- so I _guess_ I'll
just head for the gym, and rent the sparring room for a couple of
hours.* Decided, she quickly went to her apartment, grabbed her gi
and belt, threw them in her gym bag, along with a few other items,
and headed back up to Market Street to catch the F streetcar to get to
the gym. As she was waiting for the streetcar, she realized that she
had forgot to bring anything to drink while she was working out, so
she ran into the nearest party store to get some bottled water.
As if expecting her, when she entered the store she found that
there was a display of a new brand of water in the middle of the
store. Packaged in a six-pack of half-liter bottles, it was perfect
for her. She looked over the label as she went up to the counter to
pay for it.
The label read:
[ J-Juice ]
[ ]
[ Natural Spring Water & ]
[ Real Fruit Flavors ]
[ ]
[ Bottled in China ]
[ (c)1998 Jyu. ent. ]
and the rest of the label written in Chinese ideograms.
As Cynthia paid for the water, she pondered. *Well, this looks
like a good brand, but I've never heard of it,* and she shrugged.
*Well, might as well get on to the gym.* She left the shop, and
walked to the corner. While she waited for the 'walk' signal, her
mind was elsewhere.
*What I wouldn't do for a little excitement.* As the light
changed, she started across the street. When she had reached the
mid-point, as if by command, three cars roared around the corner and
beared down upon the hapless woman. As they approached her, she
clamped her eyes shut, thinking, *Well, its not boring _now_.*
**********************************
MEANWHILE:
Marie sat at her computer, typing furiously. *Ha,* she thought
while she pounded the keyboard, *this has got to be the most real-
istic beginning I've ever wrote. I'm glad that I know how Cynthia
spends her afternoons.*
She paused momentarily. *But what do I do now?* she pondered.
*I could put her into a fanfic, but...* Then he eyes lighted. *I
know- Ranma 1/2!,* and she grinned. *This is gonna be fun!*
*********************************
BACK TO THE STORY:
Cynthia listened as the screaming engines came closer and closer.
Then the sound died down to a murmur. As she stood there, waiting
for the car to strike her, she heard a voice say,
"Hey, lady! Where did you come from?"
Which wasnt so bad, she thought: untill a little voice inside
her informed her of the fact that it _wasn't_ english, but japanese
that she had just heard. And understood, as well. She opened her
eyes.
The scene had changed dramatically. Instead of a normal Friday
Rush in San Francisco, she now stood in the middle of a Japanese city
that caused a sense of deja vu. She looked at the driver that had
spoke, and asked, "I'm not sure. Where am, sir?"
"In beautiful Nemira district of Tokyo, Japan," he answered her
sarcastically. "Now can you get out of the middle of the street?"
Numbly, Cynthia mumbled her thanks and stumbled to the curb,
while her mind raced furiously. *Does this mean that I just fell into
a fanfic? Am I in a universe where there is a martial artist named
Ranma Saotome?*
While she was thinking, a panda, wearing a white vest, bounded
by on the cross street. In it's paw, it held a sign that read, [But,
Ranma! How was _I_ to know? Can we talk about it?] From around the
corner, a feminine voice said, "Fat chance, pops! Three fiancees,
and you say they're _all_ binding? Do I LOOK like a Mormon?"
*Yup,* her mind confirmed as she heard a splash and a male yell,
"Yeowch! Hot!" *This is Ranma's universe.* Then a short, red-
headed girl, with a pig-tail, ran around the corner. This was too
much for Cynthia: she fainted dead away. The last thing she heard
was the girl saying, "Oops."
**********************************
BACK IN SAN FRANCISCO:
Marie chuckled evily. *Now, when she wakes up, the fun will
really start,* she mused. She rubbed her hands together and grinned.
*Okay, what to do next...,* she continued. *I know! I'll
introduce her to her savior.* She cracked her knuckles and went back
to typing furiously.
***********************************
IN NEMIRA:
Cynthia felt a tapping on the soles of her feet. Grogily, her
mind began to work again. *...bzzurrmmmwassat? Huh? What a dream!
I thought I was in Ranma 1/2! That was....* Then the sensation of
someone hitting a reflex point startled her into opening her eyes.
*It wasn't a dream,* she concluded rapidly as she saw the person
in front of her. It was either Dr. Tofu, or someone who looked
exactly like him; the man was the same height and build, and wore
black John Lennon-style glasses as well.
"Ahh! You're awake!" the doctor exclaimed. "Ms. Saotome
brought you in, and you were out for about an hour. Are you
alright?" he asked.
"Yes, sir, Doctor...," Cynthia answered, waiting.
"Tofu," was his response. He continued, without noticing her
grimace of pain. "I need to see to some other paitents, so I'll
leave you with Ms. Saotome, okay." And he swept out without waiting
for a reply.
"Great," Cynthia muttered to herself, "so who was the lucky
one who became 'Ms. Saotome?'"
"That would be me," a voice said from the other side of the
cot. Cynthia turned her head toward the speaker and gasped, "Ranma?"
The speaker appeared to be Ranma in his cursed form. His, or
rather her, hair was a bushy mop of red, with the back tied into a
long pigtail. She was wearing a black Chinese peasant shirt and loose
red trousers that were held by string at the waist and ankles. She
was glaring at Cynthia suspiciously. "How do you know that name," it
wasn't a question, but a threat of harm if she didn't like the
response.
Cynthia put up her hands in defense. "I'm not a new fiancee,"
she responded hastily, "but the story is a little involved." Seeing
the redhead's consideration, she continued. "I'm a little confused.
I just woke up, and I don't even know your name. Mine's Cynthia
Johnston."
"Oh, sorry," the redhead replied. "Mine's Ranko Saotome, the
lesser heir to the Saotome-Tendo School of Indescriminate Grappling
and Sword-Dancing."
Cynthia's response was classic Takahashi: her eyes bulged and
her pinkie and index fingers on both hands shot out straight.
"NANI?"
*********************************
ONCE MORE TO THE U.S.A.:
Marie snickered. *This is rich! She's looking suspicious, and
I haven't even started with her yet! Now I'll....*
She tapped the keys. Nothing happened. *Oh, damn! The comput-
er locked up _again_? Of all the rotten...* She paused, watching in
shock as the computer opened a telcom window and dialed a long, long
number. *What the...?* As it connected, the writer saw that the
word processor started to work again, but this time on it's own.
Watching the screen, she saw the fanfic she was writing start to
include interludes where it showed what SHE was doing! *This is got
to be the strangest...* She reached to shut off the offending appli-
ance, and found that that switch was also inoperative.
*Uh oh,* she concluded, *If I'm in this fanfic, what about
Cynthia?* She watched the screen, hoping for a clue.
Chapter 1:
Pardon me, I slipped.
Ranko waved her hand in front of the other girl's face. *Hmm,*
she thought, *she must be in shock.*
Looking the other woman over, Ranko saw she was an American,
with skin the color of a Crayola crayon version of flesh. She had
dark eyes of the same violet as Shampoo's, and fuzzy blonde hair that
was cut short like Akane's. She was tall; about the same height as
her father, and looked to be in very good shape.
Cynthia blinked her eyes.
-=- -=- -=- -=-
While she sat immobile, Cynthia's mind was racing. *No! This
is ridiculous! Not only am I in a fictional universe, but it _isn't_
even the NORMAL fiction! If there's a writer somewhere, they have a
twisted sense of humor. Just a little over an hour ago, I was going
to a gym in San Francisco; now I'm in an acupuncture clinic in Nemira
District, Tokyo. Fer gosh sakes, Ranma is just a cartoon!*
Cynthia blinked, and looked into Ranko's eyes. *Bite the bullet
and get on with it,* she chided herself. "Well," she began, "I'm
from San Francisco, and I was walking across the street...." She
went on, explaining to Ranko the details of what happened to her.
Ranko frowned. "You mean to say that _this,_" she swept her
hand around to indicate everything, "is nothing but fiction to you?"
She shook her head, continuing. "It seems real enough to me."
Cynthia explained. "It is. I'm just saying that the only Ranma
that I know of is a sixteen year old martial artist who is engaged to
three different girls." She didn't mention anything of his curse,
unsure if that would be safe. "His father turns into a panda..."
"...And is a jerk to boot," Ranko replied without moving her
lips.
"Huh?" was the blonde's response.
"That's me," came the voice again. This time Cynthia realized
that it was coming from off to the side, and turned to the speaker.
This time she saw the real Ranma-chan: this one was wearing the
usual colors of red above and black below. In every other respect,
the two coulds easily pass as twins.
*Oy,* Cynthia silently groaned. *Ranma AND Ranko? Someone has
a wicked sense of humor.* Aloud, she said, "Ranma?"
"That's me," the cursed boy said, while trying to wring out his
top without removing it. "Do I know you?"
Ranko interrupted. "Nope, bro; she just got into town." She
giggled. "Just dropped in."
The American glared at her. "She's right," she replied to him,
"I'm new here. Could you help me?"
Ranma blinked. "I don't know," he confessed. "I can ask Mom
and Pop if it would be alright, but it would be up to them."
Cynthia grinned. "No problem. I'm sure that it will be okay."
*Yeah,* she added to herself, *sure it will.*
Ranma returned the grin. "You're okay. I need a few moments to
clean up, then we'll go to the dojo and see if my parents are done
teaching for the day." He bowed, then turned to his twin. "Be back
in a few, sis."
As Ranma-chan left the room, Cynthia turned to his twin.
"Ranko," she asked, "what would you say if I told you that I can
predict what will happen to me once we arrive at the dojo?"
Ranko paused, contemplating. "I'd say," she answered with a
big grin, "if you can, then it _would_ convince me."
Cynthia grinned in return. "Okay. Let me ask you, is a certain
hentai in the area; short, wears a ninja outfit and steals panties?"
Ranko winced and nodded. "Well, then. Here's what's going to happen
when we arrive....."
-=- -=- -=- -=- -=- -=-
"Swwweeeet!" <WHAM! CRUNCH!> "COBRA FANG STRIKE, REVISED!"
"AAAAAAAAAAAAIIIIiiiiiiieeeeeeeee......"
Ranma stood at the gate, shocked. Cynthia was smiling at Ranko,
who was rolling on the ground, laughing so hard she was crying. "See
what I said, K-chan," the American asked, "didn't I tell you I
_know_ what happens here?"
Ranko replied, while trying unsuccessfully to stop laughing.
"Yup. (ha-ha)You told me that(whee) the old goat would try to fondle
you (heheheh) as soon as the door was opened. I just loved seeing the
runt (wooo) get what he deserved."
Ranma turned to face the blonde. "That," he said, awed, "had
to be the quickest knockdown the little slime ever had." He shook his
head. "I need to learn how you did that manuver."
Cynthia rubbed the back of her head shyly. "Well, Ranma, it's
like this...," and she repeated the story she told Ranko, and
finished by asking them both, "...but I hope that you can keep it a
secret between us, as fellow martial artists."
They both nodded. "We swear as by the warrior's code," they
replied solemly, then both grinned. "But you've GOT to teach us what
you know about the 'Cobra fist.'"
"Hai," Cynthia replied, bowing. "If in return you two will
teach me your forms as well.
"Okay." "Sure." The two were grinning like madmen. Ranko
continued, "That little slime deserved to get sent into LEO even
before this, it's just he's so fast."
They entered the yard of the Tendo-Saotome School of Indescrim-
inate Grappling and Sword Dancing, as proclaimed by the sign outside
the gate.
"Son," came a feminine voice from the house, "prepare your-
self!" Out of the doorway flew a woman bearing a buoko, grinning at
him. It was Nokoda, and she was looking as if this was fun!
"What's with this," Cynthia asked Ranko, in a quiet voice, as
she opened one of her bottles of water.
"Well," the redhead began, "about a year ago, the family went
to train at a training ground in China...."
----====FLASHBACK====----
QINGHAI PROVENCE, CHINA
"Here, gentelpeople," the guide said in broken Japanese, "is the
Jushenkyo Training Grounds."
"Doesn't look like much," Ranma said, sneering. "Just a bunch
of springs."
"I agree," added Nokoda, walking up behind her son. "Just a
few pools; some hot and some cold."
The scene before them was one that few places could compare to.
The entire scene ahead was filled with various springs with bamboo
poles scattered around with no regard to the placement.
"Okay, everyone," Genma called, getting their attention, "I
will spar with Ranma, and you will spar with Ranko, Nokoda."
His wife nodded. "Okay," she replied to him, and turned toward
her daughter. "Ready, child?"
Ranko grinned. "Bring it on, Mother." And she hopped up to the
top of the bamboo pole of the nearest pool. Nokoda, seeing this,
let loose a chuckle and mounted her own pole.
They tensed, ready for battle; each watching the other to see
if she would leave an opening, and guarding against opening herself
to her opponent. With twin screams of fury, they leapt toward each
other, with a liquid grace that belied the fact of the shear power
and deadliness of the movements themselves.
This went on for several exchanges, with neither scoring a
solid hit on the other. Suddenly, when Nokoda left a minute opening
in her attack, Ranko capitalized and slamed her to the waiting pool
below.
<SPLASSSH> "AYIA!" cried the guide, rushing to the side of the
pool. "What young miss do?"
<Woosh!> Suddenly, in front of Ranko appeared a white tiger,
supporting itself on one paw upon the narrow top of the bamboo pole.
She stuttered out, pointing to the new arrival, "W-w-w-what the
_HECK_ is that?"
"That," the guide said, with a voice that seemed to drip scorn,
"is young miss' mother." He continued as the tiger readied itself in
what appeared to be the same stance as Nakoda herself was using. "It
Cold Spring of Drowned Snow Tiger. Very tragic story of snow tiger
that drown in pool two thousand, three hundred fifty year ago. Now
whatever fall into pool take form of tiger that fall into pool."
Ranko was in shock. "That," she asked, pointing a shaking
digit toward the large cat, "is my _MOTHER_?!?" The indicated feline
pounced, and swatted the girl off her perch.
"Yes," the Chinese man supplied as she fell past him, into her
own wating curse. "Just as you fall into..."
<SPLASSSSSH!!!> And he finished as Ranko, now a male, and
looking just like her brother, surfaced; "...Hot Spring of Drowned
Young Man. Very tragic story of young man who drown in that pool nine
hundred seventy year ago."
Ranko looked down at her now-flat chest. "What else can go wrong
with our lives?" she asked Kami in a rich baritone voice.
<Splassssh.....woosh.....SPLASSSH!> "AAAAAAAAAAAAA!" came a
voice that sounded very close to her own, old voice.
"Why you ask that question?" the guide sounded aggrived. "It
always make things worse."
----====END FLASHBACK====----
"And so," Ranko concluded, looking down at the ground, "we're
all cursed, with Ranma and I having exact opposite curses to each
other."
Cynthia opened the bottle of water and drained it in one gulp.
"Wow," she commented in a awed voice that seemed different to her own
ears, "that must have been hard."
Ranko's head snapped up, and she looked into the face of her new
friend. "Ummmm," she started, hesitantly, "are you cursed,
Cynthia?"
"No," the blonde replied, puzzled. "I told you, in my reality
there's no...." She sputtered to a stop, looking into the eyes of
the redhead. "I think," she continued, "I need to look into a
mirror."
Wordlessly, Ranko led her into the bathroom in the dojo. When
Cynthia looked into the mirror, she screamed, then fainted.
*-*-*-*
Cynthia's awarness returned as the redhead splashed her with cold
water. The blonde looked up, blinking her eyes at the young Saotome,
and asked, "May I see the mirror again?"
Ranko nodded and handed it to her. As she looked into it, she
noticed that there were some _major_ changes in her looks.
First, her hair was now a platinum blonde so light that it
appeared silver, and so silky that it shimmered even in the room's
subdued lighting. It flowed from her head in a wave that travled down
her back and pooled around her sitting form.
Next, she noticed the body itself. It was willowy, but still
retaining the smooth atletic shaping; it was just less bulky, and
yet seemed more graceful than before.
Finally, with a shudder, she looked into her reflections' eyes.
Staring back were a pair of silver orbs that looked like cats eyes:
slitted pupils and solidly colored. She shook again, and noticed that
the effect didn't seem quite so bad, until she realized again that
this was her new body whenever she encountered cold water.
"Why?" she wispered, now realizing that her voice _was_ higher
than before. "Why did I get cursed?"
Ranko stood there shocked. *Why _did_ she change here?* the
girl asked herself, in chorus with the dazed woman.
{{TO BE CONTINUED}}
------------------------cut here--------------------------------------
Postscript:
Well, this is the end of part one, and I have probably confused
everyone completely. I want this to work, as I _love_ Ranma fanfics,
and I thought others would like to read something that would go a
bit farther in a fan-tastic (pun FULLY intened,) direction.
So watch for the next part to appear in approximately 4 to 8
weeks, and for now,...
BE LIAO!
Centauress
25 Apr 98
1130 hrs. PDT
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