Tenchi Muyo Fan Fiction / Ranma 1/2 Fan Fiction / Crossover Fan Fiction ❯ The Goddess Dilemma ❯ Three ( Chapter 3 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

Disclaimer: Same as last chapter, don’t own anything but the PC, DVD’s, PS2 and the game . . .

Note: This fic is currently funner to write than Soul Mates or Genesis Muyo One Half. But fear not, I will eventually get to them . . . let’s say for now that this fic is the cream of the crop. At least until I either get bored with it or finish it. Oh boy, I added a new game to my collection recently. Watch out for character appearances from there as well . . . and my fight scenes suck. I will admit THAT much.

The Goddess Dilemma, part three

By: Jim Ohki

The really cool fight music from Shadow Hearts Covenant (boss fight type, Techno, disk two) fired up as Ranma and Happi clashed. Ranma, using the half-organic Excalibur, versus Happosai, using his trusty pipe.

Oh boy was that ever a mismatch. Well considering Happi’s size, that pipe of his was larger than a dagger for a person of a . . . taller state. Although, being locked in a staring contest with a sword ranked about a nine point eight-three on the weird-shit-o-meter. This was Nerima after all, it took something even MORE extreme than an obviously sentient half-organic sword to make a full ten.

By some unseen signal, the two became a blur of motion. Sparks, skin and cloth flew through the air as fight progressed. The two remaining trees were turned into toothpicks by the air pressure alone, and the spectators were driven back as the wall collapsed. The fight spilled into the streets, people screamed, civilians got hurt. Ranma’s followers and general wanting to stay on his good side people became triage nurses, doctors, and crowd control. The people that had yet to be noticed by the natives were doing their best to blend into the shadows, observing the fight.

Speaking of, let’s try to see past the dust, debris, and occasional flying bra.

Ranma was on the defensive, using the oversized organic broadsword to deflect that damned pipe of Happosai. Between attempts at pressure points, Happi had produced water balloons and the infamous bra for his female half. So the boy, no young man, was using the flat of the blade as a bat, flinging the water and feminine undergarments back at the old fart, while using the meat slicer to attempt to chop that pipe in half. Using the soul of ice was proving to be a good thing right now as Happi was quickly losing his temper. Being thwarted continuously at the pressure point attacks, as well as having to dodge his own projectiles, was quickly eating away at the Ki Vampire’s patience. When Ranma saw his opening, he attacked with an up-down-left slashing combo, that succeeded in at least disarming the ancient pervert.

Then there was a forced pause as what looked like a trapped spirit, nay, SPIRITS, started screaming for help. Both were female, and apparently had taken on Happi sometime in the past. When they lost, well . . . the old fart got to enjoy their company, whether they liked it or not.

“What the hell old man?” demanded Ranma, who was transfixed by the redhead that was cursing Happosai in fluent German. Of course, the brunette that was swearing death to the old man in Italian couldn’t be ignored either.

“Now look at what you did,” accused Happi, in the oh-so familiar attempt of his to shift blame for something onto somebody else. “These two had been content to be quiet and not make a fuss. Then you go and get them riled up for no good reason.”

“LET US OUT OF HERE!” demanded the German, making her and her friend’s stance on the issue quite clear.

“I will take your head off for whatever you did to them, Happosai,” deadpanned Ranma, turning the blade to a horizontal slash, slicing Happi across his chest.

Now then, anybody who knows about sentient swords that eats souls could predict what should have happened. Instead of devouring Happosai’s soul, however, the sword did pick something up for one of the two trapped inside the perverted martial artist’s aura. It sent the information to Ranma’s brain, which then in turn processed it five minutes later.

“They are ALIVE?!” shouted the pig-tailed youth, twirling the broadsword and attaching it to his back. Of course, he only did this to break out the Saotome Honor blade, conveniently tossed in by somebody in the crowd. What Happi didn’t know was that some knowledge of a long forgotten sword art had been absorbed by the demon half of the blade Excalibur, and passed into Ranma.

With a cry of “Geuschbenst!”, the Saotome Blade seemed to glow with power before Ranma blurred into motion. Those that could follow counted a twenty-four hit attack, with the finisher being a knock-up move. When the last four hits rained upon Happi, those present could hear Ranma say, “Now . . . DIE!”, in stereo.

Happi flew through the air with the greatest of ease, only to land very hard on the pavement twenty feet away from where the surprise attack began. He tried to get up, but found that he was in a world of pain. Bleeding from twenty-four different slashes on his body, Happi knew that he was on the verge of defeat. But that would mean that the two souls, complete with bodies locked in a kind of temporal stasis, would be free. Oh, how the desire he felt from both women towards his one time best pupil fueled his desire to fight.

“Let’s finish this!” shouted Ranma, fully recharged for a physical and ki fight. Seeing those two souls begging for release had done something that only Saffron and Herb had accomplished . . . the boy was ANGRY. The Soul of Ice reversed into the Soul of Fire, melting the pavement under Ranma. Happosai realized he was in deep shit when Ranma had sheathed the Saotome blade, and took an offensive stance.

“Finish it we shall, and your female half will be MINE!” retorted Happi, flaring his aura to maximum power. That was about as far as he got since Ranma was instantly invading his personal space, delivering thousands of blows with the Chestnut Fist. Happosai partially countered the attack, receiving medium damage. He was not prepared, however, when Ranma finished the attack he dropped an elbow onto the middle of Happi’s head. The blow knocked something loose from inside of the ancient martial artist’s gi, and Ranma scooped it up before the old bag of bones could notice it.

Deciding that the item’s examination could wait until after the fight, Ranma figured out the only way to finish this fight was to violate his personal honor. Accessing the Yami-Sen-Ken, he charged at the Master of Anything Goes intending to separate his head from the rest of his body.

“NO!” shouted nearly everybody present, minus those in the shadows. They could see that Happi was on the verge of yielding, and that there would be no reason for such a finisher move. Too bad that Ranma was beyond rage at Happosai for his transgressions over time. The two apparent souls trapped inside of his aura, the demise of Cologne (who Ranma was just starting to truly respect), the constant fondling of his female half and other women, the panty raids across Nerima. It had to end and it had to end NOW.

“Happosai, PREPARE TO DIE!” roared Ranma, his aura exploding outward igniting everything flammable within a fifty yard radius. The adept Ki and Chi users could only tremble in fear at the power the boy possessed, as he casually flicked his wrist to the side, decapitating the vertically challenged Master.

Silence reined supreme for only a brief moment, then there was an explosion as the remains of Happosai’s body could no longer contain the vast amounts of ki that he had accumulated over three hundred years of life. Windows for miles were shattered by the backlash of power being released, Ranma went sailing through the air, and the observers of the death match were knocked down. When the dust cleared, it looked like a small nuclear weapon had been detonated in the middle of the street. In the crater that went down thirty feet below ground lay two bodies, miraculously unscathed.

“Gimmie a hand here!” shouted Mousse as he slid down the slope of the crater. The rest of the Wrecking Crew followed suit, taking notice of the two people laying at what had been ground zero. Ranma himself appeared from nowhere, literally flying towards the two females laying unconscious to make sure only his intended target had gotten hurt.

Tensions ran high within the NWC, as they didn’t know what kind of mindset that Ranma was in. From appearances alone, he appeared to have calmed down significantly. But as with everything within Nerima, judging by appearances alone was the equivalent of the saying: Assumption is the mother of all fuck ups.

“They’re alive,” said Ranma, carefully picking up the redhead. He was no doctor, even though having been on the road for ten years, he knew that internal injuries were not immediately known. The others in the crater, the sisters Tendo sans Akane, Ukyo, Shampoo, Mousse, the Goddesses, the Demon, and Soun formed a human rope out of the crater. Mousse had just as carefully picked up the brunette, and was also helped out by the human rope. Once everybody was back up top, they traveled the eight blocks back towards were the dojo had been.

“What the?!” queried Ranma, noticing that other than the perimeter wall being heavily damaged, and the windows being blown out, the house was intact.

“Not our doing,” spoke the Goddesses when everybody looked at them. As soon as the words left their mouth, a lightning bolt came down from the heavens right next to everybody. Reading the message, the Goddesses turned to look at Hild with Spock Maneuvers in full effect.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” she asked, playing dumb to the situation.

“A rare act of kindness from a demon,” said Belldandy, ruining the effect that Hild was trying to present to the mortals, “How nice. Although Father wants to know what you’re going to do about the snow down there.”

“Bah, so hell froze over. It’ll thaw in an hour,” nonchalantly replied Hild, ignoring the question from on high. After all who did Kami-sama think he was, ruler of all? He had his turf, she had hers and that was that.

ZZAAPP

More lightning bolts from on high, one to zap Hild and the other to send another message. The mortals fled into the house, not wanting to inadvertently be hit by the lightning falling from a clear sky. From inside they could hear the shout of, “So WHAT if the demons are transporting the snow up?! Have some FUN with it!”

Kasumi came down the stairs in the closest thing to a rush that the residents had ever seen with two bed rolls, one in each arm. See rolled them out in the blink of an eye for the people recently freed from the late Happosai. Soun, upon return to the house, started in on Ranma about the demise of their master. Not in the bad sense, mind you. He had poppers, sake, and cake. Where they had acquired the items from, nobody knew or cared.

Ranma slumped against the closest wall, and slid down. He was belittling himself for his actions during the fight. The outcome was NOTHING like he had wanted. The Saffron fight had taught Ranma one thing: warriors do what they have to, to survive. But losing control like that was not what was supposed to happen.

The women in his life noticed immediately the posture of the man they loved. The downcast eyes, the ever so slight tremble, the occasional quiver of his lower lip. The way he was slumped against the wall, with no interest in anything at the moment. Well, anything other than the welfare of the newest guests to the Tendo residence. He would steal glances in their direction from time to time, then resume studying his feet. Remembering the item that Happosai had dropped, Ranma pulled it out of . . . somewhere, and examined it.

The sounds of a cash register going KA-CHING were heard from two different areas of the living room. All eyes fell on the item in Ranma’s hands, and more sound effects were heard. The in stereo “Oh my!” was lost on everybody, but the resounding drip-drip-drip of drool hitting the floor was not.

Ranma held what looked like a Rubix Cube, studded with all sorts of valuable gems. The red squares held rubies, blue had sapphires, white had diamonds, yellow had chunks of gold, and green had what appeared to be Mythril. The sixth side of the cube looked like an older style lock on a chest. The lock hole looked like a cross, however.

“Ugh,” came a voice from the floor. The German was waking up, and attracted everybody’s attention. That was when visual confirmation was doubly needed on her attire.

Yes, everybody did a double-take of the daring outfit.

The shirt, if it could be called that, was held up by a small choker. It was an off-white sleeveless number, tucked into a mini-skirt that showed two things. One was the lack of a bra, and the second was her generous breast size. Thigh-high Stiletto boots, the laced-up kind, emphasized her long legs. (Seriously, play Shadow Hearts Covenant for PS2. That’s as close to accurate as I could get.)

“Ooh, my head,” complained the brunette. Her dress, while not nearly as daring as her companion’s, still showed off a lot of tanned skin. Her voice, deep and apparent full body tan, and demeanor all resembled a certain Galaxy Police officer from another series.

“Where are we?” asked the redhead, having sat up to take in her surroundings. The last thing she remembered before the fight between the boy slumped against the wall and the old letch was fighting said letch herself.

“Before we answer your questions,” replied Nabiki, taking charge of the situation, “Please as least give us your names.”

“Ah, proper protocol eh?” sarcastically intoned the brunette, also having sat up to follow the conversation. Being more in tune with Ki and Chi flows, she could sense the Wa of the house going crazy. But before more conversation could be commenced, the people that had been hiding in the shadows during the fight appeared.

“Not now man,” said Ranma. Very flatly to boot. When the Goliath known as Nightmare waltzed in the front door, he had groaned internally. But the look on his face was of . . . amusement?

“I am not here to fight you,” evenly returned Nightmare, “But instead I am here with some of the others from the old days. Why they are here, how they got here are questions that we do not know the answers to.” Eureka, instant overcrowded living room. Even with the ‘friends’ of the azure knight, the female population outnumbered the male by five to one.

A very good looking female population, should be noted. Short skirts, vinyl, and form-fitting Chinese dresses were the clothing of the hour. Kasumi and Belldandy became self-conscious of their conservative clothing, while Nabiki went to find her camera. Ooh, would pictures of these scantily clad women make a lot of yen with the ole Horde at Furinkan.

“Okay,” deadpanned Ranma, “let’s take this from the top.”

And so the story behind Nightmare, Maxi, Yunsung, Xianghua, Kilik, Cassandra, and Ivy (A.K.A Isabella Valentine) was told. They had been after Soul Edge, the demonic half of the sword Ranma possessed, for varying reasons. Some good, some evil. They all acknowledged defeat to Nightmare, who had after the battles, cast the blade into a chasm. Xianghua recounted her tale of possessing Soul Calibur, the holy blade.

Unlike Nightmare, who had awakened with Soul Edge, the others had aforementioned (read: NO) clue as to how they arrived in the future. They had all been living separate lives, although they did keep in contact.

Ranma went into moderate detail about what his situation was. Moderate, as in he went as far back as his arrival in Nerima to then. He left out certain aspects, like the wishes that both his male and female half had made.

Finally, it was time for the latest arrivals to the Tendo house to tell their tale.

“My name is Karin,” spoke the redhead, “My companion here is Lucia.” The brunette waved hello, although she was primarily being ignored. “Before I explain what happened to us, why we were in the ‘possession’ of that old freak, can anybody tell me what year this is?”

“It is the year two thousand five,” replied Belldandy automatically. She had gone to investigate the latest CRASH-KROOM! outside, and thus was the only one with the knowledge that the newest members of the NWC were permanent.

“Ninety years have passed,” said Karin, “Since we fought that . . . thing known as Happosai. It was just after our ordeal with Special Agent Kato, who had attempted to remake the world in his image. Happosai came along investigating the Asuka Stone Platform, the door to the gates of time. Being extremely low on energy, he took advantage of our . . . situation. He had swiftly killed Yuri, Joachim, and Gepetto, the males of our group. Kurando, the only male left, was not with us at the time as he was left behind in his home village with Blanca, a wolf. While he spared Anastasia Romanov, for the simple reason she was just a child, he took liberties with Lucia and myself. We tried our hardest to fight him off, but we had no chance since our fight with Kato had used up all of our healing medicines.”

Karin paused for a moment, trying to suppress the tears that threatened to overwhelm her. Lucia was no better, silently crying while reliving that horrific day.

Everybody else had pieced together the puzzle, and frowned at the results. Have fear, Kasumi and Belldandy in the same room, at the same time FROWNING. The other fighters in the room were glowing a faint red in rage.

“He,” Karin pressed on, “He . . . had his way with us. Not just the groping we have witnessed over the years. After he had forced himself upon us, he sealed us within his aura. We never knew the reason why, but we assume it was because he always takes a trophy of his conquests. We have been fighting him the entire time, and have prevented others from suffering our fate.”

POOF!

Hild had a Washu brand Holo-Top PC(™©®) in view, and was typing away furiously. Knowing that Happosai had no chance at getting into Heaven, she had to know just what level of Hell he was in. She quickly found him on the Fourth level of hell. Nope, that won’t do at all. Typing in some commands, Hild sent the soul of Happosai into the Ninth level of hell for eternity. And to make sure he would be tormented to the maximum, Hild created a new torture program.

Transvestite Homosexual rapists . . . of the tentacle variety.

Ooh, bad image . . .

While this was occurring, the cluster of people broke into several different conversations. The two freed from Happi were thanking Ranma, while his erstwhile fiancées moved into a cluster around him. The Soul Calibur group mingled with the Goddesses and the Demon, trying to covertly discover the reason why they were there. Soun fled the house, not wanting to be around when the estrogen factories exploded for something the boy had done.

Remember the wishes from the first chapter? They’re about to come into play . . .

After an hour of everybody getting acquainted with each other, Ranma had stepped outside to practice the additions to his Art. He had to learn how to incorporate all of the various disciplines into the Anything Goes style. The Earth-based styles were easy enough to master, since they all had some familiarity. What threw him for a loop was the ‘alien’ martial arts. Klingon Wu-Shu, Romulan Kempo, Vulcan Tai Chi . . . the list goes on and on. The forms used by the founding races were extremely different from anything he had ever seen, and that didn’t include the weapon based arts such as Juraian Swordplay.

So while quite literally stumbling through the first improvised kata, the second half of his wish (female half) took effect.

Ranma didn’t know it due to his level of concentration, but he had an audience. A rather LARGE audience, all comprised of females. The ones he knew, the older sisters Tendo, Ukyo and Shampoo he could excuse because of the recent wish. Shampoo’s case was still pending, but since she had lost the last of her family, it was leaning more towards acceptance. However, getting the same look from Cassandra, Taki, Xianghua, Ivy, Urd, Peorth, Belldandy, Hild, Karin and Lucia was unnerving. He really didn’t know them, not to the point where he could accept them into the ‘Saotome Harem’, as it was being dubbed by said females.

Where had the others gone, you ask. Well, simple jealousy overrides most logic, so Mousse, Ryoga and Tatewaki were up to the usual plotting of revenge. Kodachi being herself, decided that laying low for the time being would be best, not wanting the wrath of fourteen women upon her.

Here’s the over-used plot device, just thought I’d give a warning . . .

The phone rang, and Nodoka being herself answered it. She was most surprised by WHO was calling, however.

“Moshi moshi, Tendo residence,” she said into the receiver.

“Nodoka, how are you?” asked an older male voice on the other end. She could hear the smile over the phone by the tone of the voice.

“Dad?” was said with surprise. It was not the secret of the century that Nodoka and her father weren’t on speaking terms of late.

“Yes dear, it’s me,” he replied, the mirth still present in his voice. “Is my grandson available?”

“Cer . . . certainly,” stuttered Nodoka, as she carefully set the receiver down so not to drop it. Then she quite literally flew out of the house, bowling over the entire assembly of women that were admiring her son as he performed a new kata. He saw her coming, and prepared for a collision. She did indeed hit him, but Ranma leaned left and twirled his mother around to prevent either of them from falling.

“Mom, what is it?” asked a concerned Ranma, noticing the wild look in his mother’s eyes.

“Your grandfather would like to talk to you,” she said in a rush, having regained her footing to pull Ranma into the house at top speed. He had a surprised look on his face at the news that not only was at least one of his grandparents alive, but wanted to talk to him.

“Hello?” carefully asked Ranma into the phone, as Nodoka bounced around in the background. Too bad at this point a fight of sorts had broken out on the other end of the line.

“LET GO!” shouted one female voice, while another could be heard in the background crying.

“YOU LET GO, YOU MONSTER WOMAN!” roared yet another female.

“Please don’t fight,” said a female child.

“I was on the phone first,” spoke an older male voice, “please give it back.”

“STOP IT RIGHT NOW!” reverberated not only through the house on the other end of the line, but the Tendo residence as well. This voice was of a younger male, somewhere around Ranma’s age if he guessed correctly. And it was faintly familiar as well. But it had been at least thirteen years since that voice was heard. There was a rustle of cloth on the other end of the phone, followed by a “Hello? Anybody there?”

“This is Ranma Saotome,” said the boy, “With whom am I speaking?”

“Ranma, good to hear from you. This is your grandfather, Katsuhito Masaki.”

TBC

I warned of the plot device, but not in the way you’re thinking. Oh yes, I am having FUN with this fic. Okay, next update will hopefully be during my vacation, so please bear with me. And for cryin’ out loud, if you’re gonna leave a review that comprises of swearing at me ‘cause you take the fic seriously, press Control Alt Delete twice. I DON’T WANT TO HEAR IT! This fic is NOT to be taken seriously, far from it.

Many have asked for details, and I concede that yes, there is much work to be done. When I finish this fic, as I will probably do with my other projects, I’ll create a bios page for those of you lost on the attire issue.

Ja Ne!