[R.5] [Alt] On Her Own 1 Rewrite#3 3 scenes

For submitting and talking about story ideas, individual scenes that need doctoring, outlines, or other detail work that isn't quite ready for the C&C thread.

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[R.5] [Alt] On Her Own 1 Rewrite#3 3 scenes

Postby khammel » Thu Jun 20, 2013 7:21 pm

There was a request for more backstory on Ranma's time amongst the Musk. Motivation for Ranma to escape, etc. I have tried to add that in these scenes. I have included the largely intact first scene just because it immediately precedes the two new ones.
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An injured girl picked her way down the talus slope, dwarfed by the cliffs and the fortress towering over her. Her dress was torn and frayed by rocks. Crude jute sandals chafed her feet. Her unbound red hair fell to her mid-back, matted with drying blood.

Though hurt and lost, she had to escape -- or a far crueler fate awaited. Hearing a faint noise, the girl dove into a crack between two boulders, trying to hold absolutely still. She heard footsteps and men shouting at each other in an incomprehensible language.

The minutes ticked agonizingly by, each moment filled with fear the patrol would hear her pounding heart and haul their prize back inside. Silent tears poured unnoticed from her eyes. Silent sobs shook her entire body. Finally certain the men had returned to the fortress, the terrified girl crawled out from between the rocks. Only five more meters, and she was on the valley floor. Picking her way silently silently through the shadows, she slipped away from the area.

As she gained distance distance from the fortress, the valley opened up to reveal several pools on the side of the road. Behind her, she heard shouts in the same language she had heard at the fortress.

They must have seen her!

She ran with almost inhuman speed, clouds of dust clearly marking the passage she had taken great pain to hide before. Her head began to pound from her racing heart. Vision grew darker as she made it across the pools' clearing.

Male shouts behind her were being answered by a feminine chorus on this side of the springs. The light from a watch fire lit her pathway to freedom. Encouraged, she somehow ran even faster. Fire from her exertions began to burn its way up her legs, but she ran on. The fire began to burn her lungs... the bonfire was getting closer, but she would not reach it. She saw a purple flash, and felt her small, spent body cradled in larger, stronger arms. A single, bitter sob of defeat tore itself from her chest as her last conscious thoughts flickered out.

(((())))

The redhead regained conciseness.

Familiar... recent... painful... wakeful thoughts renewed their assault.

She had lost.

Everything... His art. His father. His gender.

That patriarch now sat in imagined judgment. Rough taunts and verbal jabs questioning masculinity now sentenced her to the pathetic existence she knew all girls shared.

Vision pulled her from the mental spiral of defeat. Her eyes darted about the small room holding her. Rough cyclopean walls now formed her cell of imprisonment. Not the carefully cut blocks of the massive keep. Bright sunlight and birdsong poured through a partially open window.

Freedom's clues had fallen from notice.

The horrible dress was gone. She now wore... what seemed to be a pink pair of pajamas for a taller girl. The outfit's legs were cuffed, her bare feet sticking out. The sleeves rolled up and tied leaving her arms similarly free. She looked down at her unbound hands... wrists still chapped and cut from the rough ropes of subjugation.

Her hands were now tiny things. Petite and feminine. She had to admit... pretty.

Not his. Hers.

In a flash, they balled into fists of frustration. Part and parcel of his second prison. One... he... she could never escape.

No matter what, or how long, it took to do it... In the end he had... had... always won.

She never had.

She remembered... What she saw after waking up... there... here... Just the memory filled the redhead with utter horror and total revulsion. That girl's puzzled, confused, bruised face... had driven her, motivated her, forced her to escape. Shaking and crying began. Silence had fallen beneath her caring. Quiet helped her failed escape. And that doomed attempt had only brought her back here. Now her simple cries of pain brought her closer to the other girls.

Her... new sisters... were out there... just beyond this new cell.

Incapable of speech. Grunting like beasts.

Animal.

How long before she joined them? Really, truly. Humanity... thought, planning, wishing, wanting... wailing only brought pain now. How much agony would that final fall be?

Did she even care anymore?

She thought of her failed victory the... day before?

She had fallen so close to fires of salvation. Only to feel strong arms grab her back again.

Wrenching sobs tore themselves from deep within. Wailing of horror, mourning, and fear.

Would they... the men... would she be... hurt?

Like that other girl? She would probably end up like the other girl. All of them would.

Losing once more? But at least, after that it would never matter again.

She felt utterly lost and worthless.

Was it possible to be... less than a girl?

Yes.

A tiny, flickering flame flashed to life deep in her heart. That's what the other girls were.

She didn't want to be like them.

She wasn't going to be like them. She wasn't going to flee this fight.

The other girls didn't even speak. She had hidden in their midst. Used them as shields so the men wouldn't see her. Feigning befuddlement while sifting shreds of fact from the men's shouts and speeches.

Hearing and vision invited smell to join their examination. Distracting her vigil awaiting final destruction. There was a scent of flowers nearby, tinged with a more medicinal odor. She picked up her right hand... still so soft, strange, small. The pleasant scent grew stronger as delicate fingers approached her face. Olfactory and visual examination in concert revealed floral scent the length of her arm. Occasionally the strong, healing odor around a cleaned, gauze-wrapped wound would pierce the pleasant, floral dream.

A shadow crossed her arm. Sight interrupted reverie. Still fuzzy from wakefulness and fear, flight reflex failed.

Another defeat, neither noticed nor tallied.

She bolted upright on the bed and pulled her knees close to her chest with crossed arms. Both her tiny, changed hands held an elbow in a painful death grip. Her folded legs now crushed swollen things she shouldn't have to her chest. Her eyes and mouth slammed shut.

She would make her next, inevitable, defeat hard for them to win from her.

If she could. If she was even able.

Would that, in the end, be her final... only... victory?

Her eyes opened a tiny crack, seeing only tear-dappled light. She could neither stop tears nor the quiver of her lower lip. The shaking spread from her mouth, as from a temblor. Soon her entire body quaked in despair's cold grasp. Tiny victories promised moments before were lost. Again she was in mental free-fall.

The grip on her knees lessened... weakened. Her arms fell to her sides as her feet dropped to the floor.

Preparing final surrender.

Hopes of victory at this last redoubt... within her person... within herself... dashed by weakness.

She could finally hear those huge men laughing at her. Her father in their midst, preparing a final, verbal assault. Just beyond the walls of her new cell.

She whimpered not unlike her new sisters, eyes flying open. She looked up to see...

A girl. A beautiful girl.

With long lavender locks falling past her shoulders. Through shimmering tears, the redhead studied with martial artist's eyes. Her caller had strength and absolute confidence in the Art. Closer study showed scars of strife, one very recent...

This was a warrior-girl who knew victory.

Still, the visitor was a paradox. How could she be? How could a girl be strong and confident beyond the kitchen or, at least, the home?

The goddess of the battlefield smiled at her, then spoke in a strange language she had never heard. Then another she had... at least a little. It was the Mandarin language of China. She picked at words, searching for understanding. Was she thirsty?

"Yes, " The redhead answered in Japanese. She wanted to repeat herself again. Wanted to hear that pretty, human voice again. To prove to herself it was real. To remember speech was hers... "Yes!" she shouted with as much force as she was able. Celebrating humanity.

But... yesterday... she had lost... everything... hadn't she?

Hadn't she?

Or... had she finally... won?

But... even if she did... could she ever win again? Yes she could. Yes she would.

She had done it.

She was free. Free of the fortress. Free of those men.

As her mind fogged at the run's end... she remembered purple. Had this girls strong arms saved her?

The visitor to her cell tapped her own chest, "Shampoo... Get water for... little... warrior."

The still frightened redhead nodded in response. Uncertain whether to be offended by 'little'... but it described her well enough... at least with respect to Shampoo.

Who didn't look terribly tall herself. Once upon a time... he had been tall... at least taller. But those memories were already misty. Truly becoming a fairy tale, though a grim one. Something to keep her up at night... not a happy bedtime story.

But the second word... a title bestowed upon her... warrior. Now that was different. An honor bought by blood, boldness, bravery. One she couldn't deny deserving.

A little forgotten pride showed on her face. She had won. Maybe... no it was... her biggest victory ever. And she'd done it as a girl.

Maybe more victories could come.

Pride grew to confidence. More victories would come.

The girls of the fortress became victims to be rescued. Once free, they could use their human minds, not animal instincts. To grow and heal and be human. To learn love and laughter.

In the fortress, the men had left off a couple pails of water, accompanied by a tray of vegetables, bones, and fatty scraps. What would it be like here? She tried to think back when someone had really been nice to... him. A friend who didn't want to fight over everything, even bread.

She thought of life back where fighting over breakfast... or bread... had importance. But that was a fantasy now. But then... fighting over food had been one too. No real need to fight, there was plenty for all.

But the curry bread was his. She shook her head at childhood's abrupt end.

Shampoo... what a weird name... probably took a lot of shampoo to clean all that hair... returned with a metal pitcher and cup on a larger metallic platter. She walked deliberately, gracefully, toward the redhead's bed. With a bow, she set her burden on a nightstand. "For you..." She said with another nod.

The smaller girl half-filled the cup, then took an experimental sip. It was good... refreshing. The water was crisp and cold. Hmm.... with just a little tang of minerals. The kind the people with money bought back in Tokyo. But here, it probably came out of a spring or something. The water had been warm in the fortress. And tasted... off. She didn't want to know why.

Those girls really needed rescuing.

She could almost feel renewal coursing through her body. It was nice. But it was hard to remember... to want to be... to really be... human again.

Continuing her thoughts, she realized she couldn't even imagine how to be a boy again. How to break whatever strange magic changed her.

Was she stuck now in a woman's life?

She put her cup down and smiled for a second at Shampoo. Heck no, a girl could fight for whatever life she wanted. And her pop's talk couldn't stop her walk. In the end though, wasn't a girl's role to be a man's wife? Her hands quivered for a moment. Even the briefest thought of men churned up new revulsion.

She was feeling a bit queasy now. Her musings had flattened the smile for Shampoo. The redhead spoke quietly, hoarse with emotion. "Thanks."

The taller girl, by half a head or so, looked into her guest's eyes. Sensing unrest and questioning but also seeing the steadily growing flame in a warrior's heart. Unable to help herself, she enfolded the little redhead a hug.

Both of them had needed that.

Shampoo released her, then lifted the other warrior's chin with a finger. She looked into the other girl's pretty azure eyes, "Shampoo glad. If need more... If want talk... Call please." She finished with an earnest smile. She'd always wanted a little sister to help and nurture. Maybe the other girl's kami had blessed each of them with what she needed.

Shampoo pivoted like a ballerina then glided to the door. Continuous, fluid motion opened it.

The redhead again admired the other girl's graceful power. Shampoo radiated strength, grace, and confidence in even the simplest actions. Awe diametrically opposed to that the men inspired brought color the smaller girl's cheeks.

The lavender haired girl pirouetted within the portal to check on her guest. Flushing for a moment under the other's rapt gaze. "Shampoo just other side of door. Little warrior need rest now."

Inspection concluded, Shampoo turned to walk through the door then closed it gently behind her.

The radiance of the experience still warmed the smaller girl. She had actually felt safe... for the first time in days... in those strong arms. And still did, after her hostess' assurances. She.. he'd not really felt unsafe... or scared... in years. Probably since the cats. After three more full glasses of water, she lay back in the bed. Her fears were receding slowly, like a tide going out.

The simple fluid she drank had made her more... alive. She could almost feel it spread animation through her body. Awakening it from protective torpor. And that simple hug was so much better, kinder, warmer... than the slap, the shake, the spittle running down her cheek the fortress offered. But hugs were to build, not break. To nurture, not enslave. To assure and reassure.

She should have hugged the confused girl in the fortress. But she'd not been girl enough then.

Here, girls were people. She wasn't even sure her own Pop really thought that. Not that he... she ever really had either.

Girls could be warriors. She could be a warrior. She was a warrior, named so by another. Another warrior she already admired.

A warrior he would have probably seen as pretty then forgotten. Man he was dumb before.

A last, she had to smile at that.

For this blessed interval, in this comfortable bed, with that beautiful warrior standing watch... just beyond the door.

She was safe.

There was room again in her life for thoughts beyond survival, fear... and observing her own destruction. Space again for living itself.

Room to be tired, which she was. More than he had ever been. Maybe there was even room for rest. She luxuriated in a long, loud, lazy yawn. Laying back on the bed, she burrowed under the covers. She couldn't even remember being in a bed like this before. It was soft and warm. A girl's bed. No, just a nice bed. Better than a bedroll over dirt. At least for now.

She longed for the strength to strike out on the road again. A roof overhead just couldn't compare to moon and stars. Stone walls blocked out what made the night... the world... alive.

She sure had come a long way in a day or two. Pushing herself way beyond what she knew a girl could do. But... that was part of her problem. She was starting to see that her actual ability was past what her understanding of girls allowed. She would have to define herself now. And show what a girl could really do as she learned it.

A new goal sprung to life. To be better than Shampoo, at least in a fight. She couldn't learn taller. She couldn't learn a longer reach. She couldn't learn a bigger chest. A bolt of jealousy stabbed her... just slightly... smaller chest.

But she could learn how to push her new body to its real limits and beyond. Because, now there was room in her life to grow.

Man, those men had hurt her. A lot. She knew she'd be shaking again if she didn't know Shampoo was there, beyond the door.

But it wasn't because she was a girl. It was 'cause she'd been scared and hurt. But, that was because she was a girl. Because it was girls those men wanted to control and hurt. Still, it wasn't... just... because she was a girl.

She hoped, no she was gonna stand on her own. She had to. Her dad wouldn't want a shrimpy, curvy, distracting girl for a son. But somewhere out there was her Mom. She'd find her. She just had to, even if Mom was dead. Just the search. Just the answer at the end was important to her. By the time she knew if Mom was dead or not, she'd be a really strong girl. Heck, maybe even a woman. Whatever that meant.

But for now, she was just a lost, little girl. Who'd be scared if Shampoo wasn't on call.

Once upon a time... he could rest without knowing there was a protector beyond the door. He was a protector himself... or could have been. Her ambitions expanded again. She'd be a protector too. First of herself, then of others.

Having her life back, and being safe, made rest easier. Goals and hopes and dreams were part of her thoughts now. Part of her now. She yawned again, quieter, and blinked leaden eyelids as she turned on her side to sleep. Ensconced in warmth with a warrior guarding her dreams.

(((())))

Shampoo peeked into her great-grandmother's guest room room, glad her new friend was sleeping. She carefully closed the door again, not wanting to wake the little warrior.

Another door opened and closed. She turned to see great grandmother Cologne, a tiny, weatherbeaten woman whose age had triple digits. The woman was dressed in a green robe befitting her station as an elder of the Joketsuzoku - Chinese Amazon - tribe. She held an equally weatherbeaten, considerably taller staff also marking her a leader.

Hopping into a chair using her staff like a pole vaulter, the elder turned to her great-granddaughter. She looked as thoughtful and interested as myriad wrinkles allowed. "So tell me about the bride, Shampoo? Were you able to communicate with her?"

Shampoo had to smile, "Yes, great grandmother. She responded to Mandarin in... Japanese."

Her free arm grasped her chin in thought for a few moments before Cologne responded, "A human. And an outsider from beyond even Chinese borders." She thought of all the tribal traditions governing outsider women. Despite the scrolls... the tribe, and China itself, was a patchwork of ethnicities. Shampoo had to lead the Amazons to a new era. Could this... former bride be a first step on that path? "Do you know if she was male? We used hot water to bathe her earlier, so we know any curse she has is locked. And we examined her thoroughly, like any freed bride. They hadn't... bred her before she escaped."
Shampoo shuddered, "At least that's good news. I'm not sure if she was born a girl or not." The young warrior shrugged, "We didn't talk much, only a couple words. I do know she's scared and confused. When I entered her room, she... cringed and shook in fear. I saw her yesterday. She was so strong and brave and determined." Shampoo couldn't keep a few tears away contemplating the girl's loss.

Cologne interrupted the teenager's recollections, "That is the way of the Musk, Dear. Domination and subjugation of their brides. Since the rest were animals, she was just another. After all, they have a herd of new women from their festival two days ago."

Shampoo nodded grim assent, "Yes, and we Sisters disrupt it, every year. But still... now she can't even stand on her own. I had to promise I'd stick around just to get out of her room. Not that I would've left her." She finished with a smile, "She's sleeping now."

Cologne looked at her heir with pride as she spoke again. "Shampoo, I know you are only just past childhood, but I'm old, so very old. You need to prepare to take my place. There is so much you must do and learn. I'd like to give you a task a full Matron would normally handle. If your willing, she'll be your responsibility."

Shampoo tried to decide if she was excited and happy or apprehensive about a huge adult obligation. Excited won, barely. There was a tiny hopeful smile amongst her tears as she spoke. "Okay. She can be much much more than she is now. We... bonded, I like her. I sorta see her as a little sister now." Apprehension got the upper hand in the tense battle as she spoke again, "But, I'm scared. Because I love her, I don't want to hurt her. She's a warrior, I could tell that. And I saw the pride on her face when I called her one. But... I don't know."

Cologne looked at her great granddaughter with love. "It's hard, child. But, you can learn a lot just from helping her. The two of you can grow strong together. A Matron might not have your touch or perspective. Then there's the rapport you already have with her. Give yourself some credit, girl. When you met her, she was shaken and frightened. When you left, she went to sleep."

Realization she'd already helped tremendously brought a smile to Shampoo's face. Then she slowly shook her head in the negative, "But... what if I can't help her... more? What if I screw this up?"

Cologne replied from behind an impassive mask, "If you do fail, or she can't be helped... We can save the Matron in her. The bride's strength will be passed to her daughters. Our tribe will still grow stronger. With the right formulations and... umm... shampoos."

Shampoo shook her head strongly, "No, this Shampoo can help her. I promise."

Cologne smiled, "I'm counting on that, great granddaughter."
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Re: [R.5] [Alt] On Her Own 1 Rewrite#3 3 scenes

Postby Dumbledork » Fri Jun 21, 2013 3:32 am

Loved it. Very well done.
And that's the bottom line 'cause Dumbledork said so.

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Re: [R.5] [Alt] On Her Own 1 Rewrite#3 3 scenes

Postby khammel » Fri Jun 21, 2013 6:52 am

Dumbledork wrote:Loved it. Very well done.


Thanks for your comment.
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Re: [R.5] [Alt] On Her Own 1 Rewrite#3 3 scenes

Postby frice2000 » Sat Jun 22, 2013 3:04 pm

This is a lot better. Three things though. Time scale is still a problem. How long was she with them? That still seems far too cloudy and could probably be made clearer. Or at least how long Ranma THINKS she was with them should be clearer. I could see Ranma getting to the place you have her here if she was in Musk captivity for awhile. Or brutally raped, which seems RATHER difficult considering Ranma's still plenty strong in that form, rather then just dehumanized. Second Shampoo's intro feels very odd to me. It's hard to grasp that. Things are too foggy there. I get that's a bit of what you are going for but it could be put together a bit better really for that. Third, this preoccupation with gender here. Think it's a bit early for that to matter. But the jealous of her breasts, looking at her tinier hands and all...That might all come later. But here when she's just been 'saved' and is just getting the first good sleep she's had in some time? That doesn't seem to be the time to think of all of that. Later when she's more surely stuck then she was before. Think you need to still have a bigger kernel of Ranma under it all. Damaged but more visible in this.

But yeah this was nice overall.
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Re: [R.5] [Alt] On Her Own 1 Rewrite#3 3 scenes

Postby khammel » Sat Jun 22, 2013 10:44 pm

frice2000 wrote:This is a lot better. Three things though. Time scale is still a problem. How long was she with them? That still seems far too cloudy and could probably be made clearer. Or at least how long Ranma THINKS she was with them should be clearer. I could see Ranma getting to the place you have her here if she was in Musk captivity for awhile. Or brutally raped, which seems RATHER difficult considering Ranma's still plenty strong in that form, rather then just dehumanized. Second Shampoo's intro feels very odd to me. It's hard to grasp that. Things are too foggy there. I get that's a bit of what you are going for but it could be put together a bit better really for that. Third, this preoccupation with gender here. Think it's a bit early for that to matter. But the jealous of her breasts, looking at her tinier hands and all...That might all come later. But here when she's just been 'saved' and is just getting the first good sleep she's had in some time? That doesn't seem to be the time to think of all of that. Later when she's more surely stuck then she was before. Think you need to still have a bigger kernel of Ranma under it all. Damaged but more visible in this.

But yeah this was nice overall.


Thanks!

Second attempt, second scene. Tried to add some Ranma undercurrents and confusion. Does this address the weakness you outlined above?

The redhead regained conciseness.

Familiar... recent... painful... wakeful thoughts renewed their assault.

She had lost.

Everything... His art. His father. His gender.

That patriarch now sat in imagined judgment. Rough taunts and verbal jabs questioning masculinity now sentenced her to the pathetic existence she knew all girls shared.

Vision pulled her from the mental spiral of defeat. Her eyes darted about the small room holding her. Rough cyclopean walls now formed her cell of imprisonment. Not the carefully cut blocks of the massive keep. Bright sunlight and birdsong poured through a partially open window.

Freedom's clues had fallen from notice.

The horrible dress was gone. She now wore... what seemed to be a pink pair of pajamas for a taller girl. The outfit's legs were cuffed, her bare feet sticking out. The sleeves rolled up and tied leaving her arms similarly free. She looked down at her unbound hands... wrists still chapped and cut from the rough ropes of subjugation.

In a flash, his hands balled into fists of frustration. No matter what, or how long, it took to do it... In the end he had... had... always won. He sure as heck wasn't gonna lose now!

Then came the realization she never had.

She remembered... What she saw after waking up... there... here... Just the memory filled the redhead with utter horror and total revulsion. How many days... girls... had it been? Every so often, one was taken away and thrown back a few... hours later? She had won the twisted lottery of avoidance many times. Each win... each unmarked day... losing a little more of what he had been.

Human. No, he still was human. He had to be human.

The puzzled, confused, bruised faces merged into a feminine melange over the week weeks? Eventually driving her, motivating her, forcing her escape.

But still, the men had won.

Shaking and crying began. Silence had fallen beneath her caring. Quiet helped her failed escape. And that doomed attempt had only brought her back here. Now her simple cries of pain brought her closer to the other girls.

Her... new sisters... were out there... just beyond this new cell.

Incapable of speech. Grunting like beasts.

Animal.

How long before she joined them? Really, truly. Humanity... thought, planning, wishing, wanting... wailing only brought pain now.

Did she even care anymore?

Yes, yes he did! Pain had always been part of growth.

She thought of her failed victory the... day before?

She had fallen so close to fires of salvation. Only to feel strong arms grab her back again.

Wrenching sobs tore themselves from deep within. Wailing of horror, mourning, and fear.

Would they... the men... would she be... hurt? No, he would kick their asses... or she would die trying.

Like those other girls? She would probably end up like the other girl. All of them would.

No! He wasn't gonna give up. He wasn't an animal, he was human!

Losing once more? But at least, after that it would never matter again.

She felt utterly lost and worthless.

Was it possible to be... less than a girl?

Yes.

The tiny, flickering flame he had nursed flashed to full life deep in his heart. That's what the other girls were. Less than girls.

He didn't want to be like them. He didn't even want... them... to be like them.

He wasn't going to be like them. He wasn't going to flee this fight.

The other girls didn't even speak. He had hidden in their midst. Used them as shields so the men wouldn't see him. Feigning befuddlement while sifting shreds of fact from the men's shouts and speeches.

Hearing and vision invited smell to join their examination. There was a scent of flowers nearby, tinged with a more medicinal odor. He picked up his right hand. The pleasant scent grew stronger as delicate fingers approached his face. Olfactory and visual examination in concert revealed floral scent the length of his arm. Occasionally the strong, healing odor around a cleaned, gauze-wrapped wound would pierce the pleasant, floral dream.

A shadow crossed his arm. Sight interrupted reverie. Someone had come for him... her. Still fuzzy from wakefulness and fear, flight reflex failed.

For a moment.

He shakily stood, finding courage deep within to assume a battle stance. Looking up, he faced...

A huge, victorious man? No, a girl. A beautiful girl.

With long lavender locks falling past her shoulders. Through shimmering tears, the redhead studied with martial artist's eyes. His caller had strength and absolute confidence in the Art. Closer study showed scars of strife, one very recent...

This was a warrior-girl who knew victory.

The goddess of the battlefield smiled at him, then spoke in a strange language he had never heard. Then another she had... at least a little. It was the Mandarin language of China. he picked at words, searching for understanding. Was she thirsty?

"Yes, " The redhead answered in Japanese. He wanted to repeat himself again. Wanted to hear that pretty, human voice again. To prove to himself it was real. To remember speech was his... "Yes!" He shouted with as much force as he was able.

Celebrating humanity.

But... yesterday... she had lost... everything... hadn't she?

Hadn't he?

Or... had he finally... won in the end?

Heck, yeah. Just like always.

He had done it.

He was free. Free of the fortress. Free of the men.

As his mind fogged at the run's end... he remembered purple. Had this girl's strong arms saved her?

The visitor to her cell tapped her own chest, "Shampoo... Get water for... little... warrior."

The confused redhead nodded in response. Uncertain whether to be offended by 'little'... but it described him well enough... at least with respect to Shampoo. Once upon a time... he had been tall... at least taller. But those memories were already misty. Truly becoming a fairy tale, though a grim one. Something to keep him up at night... not a happy bedtime story.

But the second word... a title bestowed upon him... warrior. Now that was different. An honor bought by blood, boldness, bravery. One he couldn't deny deserving.

A little forgotten pride showed on his face. He had won. Maybe... no it was... his biggest victory ever. And he'd done it as a girl.

Maybe more victories could come.

Pride grew to confidence. More victories would come.

The girls of the fortress became victims to be rescued. Once free, they could use their human minds, not animal instincts. To grow and heal and be human. To learn love and laughter.

In the fortress, the men had left off a couple pails of water, accompanied by a tray of vegetables, bones, and fatty scraps. What would it be like here? He tried to think back when someone had really been nice to him. A friend who didn't want to fight over everything, even bread.

He thought of life back where fighting over breakfast... or bread... had importance. But that was a fantasy now. But then... fighting over food had been one too. No real need to fight, there was plenty for all.

But the curry bread was his. He shook his head at childhood's abrupt end.

Shampoo... what a weird name... probably took a lot of shampoo to clean all that hair... returned with a metal pitcher and cup on a larger metallic platter. She walked deliberately, gracefully, toward the redhead's bed. With a bow, she set her burden on a nightstand. "For you..." She said with another nod.

The smaller girl half-filled the cup, then took an experimental sip. It was good... refreshing. The water was crisp and cold. Hmm.... with just a little tang of minerals. The kind the people with money bought back in Tokyo. But here, it probably came out of a spring or something. The water had been warm in the fortress. And tasted... off. He didn't want to know why.

Those girls really needed rescuing.

He could almost feel renewal coursing through his body. It was nice.

Continuing his thoughts, he realized he couldn't even imagine how to be a boy again. How to break whatever strange magic changed him.

Was he stuck now in a woman's life?

She put her cup down and smiled for a second at Shampoo. Heck no, a girl could fight for whatever life she wanted. And her pop's talk couldn't stop her. In the end though, wasn't a girl's role to be a man's wife? Her hands quivered for a moment. Even the briefest thought of men churned up new revulsion.

She was feeling a bit queasy now. Her musings had flattened the smile for Shampoo. The redhead spoke quietly, hoarse with emotion. "Thanks."

The taller girl, by half a head or so, looked into her guest's eyes. Sensing unrest and questioning but also seeing the steadily growing flame in a warrior's heart. Unable to help herself, she enfolded the little redhead a hug.

Both of them had needed that.

Shampoo released her, then lifted the other warrior's chin with a finger. She looked into the other girl's pretty azure eyes, "Shampoo glad. If need more... If want talk... Call please." She finished with an earnest smile. She'd always wanted a little sister to help and nurture. Maybe the other girl's kami had blessed each of them with what she needed.

Shampoo pivoted like a ballerina then glided to the door. Continuous, fluid motion opened it.

The redhead again admired the other girl's graceful power. Shampoo radiated strength, grace, and confidence in even the simplest actions. Awe diametrically opposed to that the men inspired brought color the smaller girl's cheeks.

The lavender haired girl pirouetted within the portal to check on her guest. Flushing for a moment under the other's rapt gaze. "Shampoo just other side of door. Little warrior need rest now."

Inspection concluded, Shampoo turned to walk through the door then closed it gently behind her.

The radiance of the experience still warmed the smaller girl. She had actually felt safe... for the first time in days... in those strong arms. And still did, after her hostess' assurances. She.. he'd not really felt unsafe... or scared... in years. Probably since the cats. After three more full glasses of water, she lay back in the bed. Her fears were receding slowly, like a tide going out.

The simple fluid she drank had made her more... alive. She could almost feel it spread animation through her body. Awakening it from protective torpor. And that simple hug was so much better, kinder, warmer... than the slap, the shake, the spittle running down her cheek the fortress offered. But hugs were to build, not break. To nurture, not enslave. To assure and reassure.

She should have hugged the confused girl in the fortress. But she'd not been girl enough then.

Here, girls were people. She wasn't even sure her own Pop really thought that. Not that he... she ever really had either.

Girls could be warriors. She could be a warrior. She was a warrior, named so by another. Another warrior she already admired.

A warrior he would have probably seen as pretty then forgotten. Man he was dumb before.

A last, she had to smile at that.

For this blessed interval, in this comfortable bed, with that beautiful warrior standing watch... just beyond the door.

She was safe.

There was room again in her life for thoughts beyond survival, fear... and observing her own destruction. Space again for living itself.

Room to be tired, which she was. More than he had ever been. Maybe there was even room for rest. She luxuriated in a long, loud, lazy yawn. Laying back on the bed, she burrowed under the covers. She couldn't even remember being in a bed like this before. It was soft and warm. A girl's bed. No, just a nice bed. Better than a bedroll over dirt. At least for now.

She longed for the strength to strike out on the road again. A roof overhead just couldn't compare to moon and stars. Stone walls blocked out what made the night... the world... alive.

She sure had come a long way in a day or two. Pushing herself way beyond what she knew a girl could do. But... that was part of her problem. She was starting to see that her actual ability was past what her understanding of girls allowed. She would have to define herself now. And show what a girl could really do as she learned it.

A new goal sprung to life. To be better than Shampoo, at least in a fight. She couldn't learn taller. She couldn't learn a longer reach. But, she knew she was better than Shampoo. It would just take time.

But she could learn how to push her new body to its real limits and beyond. Because, now there was room in her life to grow.

Man, those men had hurt her. A lot. She knew she'd be shaking again if she didn't know Shampoo was there, beyond the door.

She hoped, no she was gonna stand on her own. She had to. Her dad wouldn't want a shrimpy, curvy, distracting girl for a son. But somewhere out there was her Mom. She'd find her. She just had to, even if Mom was dead. Just the search. Just the answer at the end was important to her. By the time she knew if Mom was dead or not, she'd be really strong.

But for now, she was just a lost, little girl. Who'd be scared if Shampoo wasn't on call.

Once upon a time... he could rest without knowing there was a protector beyond the door. He was a protector himself... or could have been. Her ambitions expanded again. She'd be a protector too. First of herself, then of others.

Having her life back, and being safe, made rest easier. Goals and hopes and dreams were part of her thoughts now. Part of her now. She yawned again, quieter, and blinked leaden eyelids as she turned on her side to sleep. Ensconced in warmth with a warrior guarding her dreams.
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Re: [R.5] [Alt] On Her Own 1 Rewrite#3 3 scenes

Postby frice2000 » Sun Jun 23, 2013 11:50 am

Yeah, you did address most of my concerns. Question though, are you going to use this cloudy kind of out there style for the whole piece? If not it could be an interesting stylistic difference if you start the chapter and scenes as VERY odd and cloudy like you have at the start. Then as Ranma comes back to herself and recovers a bit as the piece goes along slowly dropping the cloudy odd feel and making it more standard could be a very nice stylistic gradual change.
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Re: [R.5] [Alt] On Her Own 1 Rewrite#3 3 scenes

Postby khammel » Sun Jun 23, 2013 12:05 pm

frice2000 wrote:Yeah, you did address most of my concerns. Question though, are you going to use this cloudy kind of out there style for the whole piece? If not it could be an interesting stylistic difference if you start the chapter and scenes as VERY odd and cloudy like you have at the start. Then as Ranma comes back to herself and recovers a bit as the piece goes along slowly dropping the cloudy odd feel and making it more standard could be a very nice stylistic gradual change.


That is exactly thinking. She is very disoriented and confused at this point. As she heals, and confidence is built up again, she will be more focused. Thanks for looking at it.
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Re: [R.5] [Alt] On Her Own 1 Rewrite#3 3 scenes

Postby frice2000 » Sun Jun 23, 2013 12:11 pm

One more question. Why not just drop the Shampoo/Cologne scene then and do the whole story from Ranma's first person perspective? Those sorts of fics are pretty rare. And you've already got most of one here.
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Re: [R.5] [Alt] On Her Own 1 Rewrite#3 3 scenes

Postby khammel » Sun Jun 23, 2013 12:23 pm

frice2000 wrote:One more question. Why not just drop the Shampoo/Cologne scene then and do the whole story from Ranma's first person perspective? Those sorts of fics are pretty rare. And you've already got most of one here.


Interesting idea. I guess I could have Nodoka and Akane tell why they (and Genma... who fled) showed up in chapter 4. It would be harder in Chapter 5+ (back in Japan) when there are multiple plot threads going on... The Tendou girls discuss Ranma... Nabiki and Shampoo investigate the Kaisuifuu, etc.
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Re: [R.5] [Alt] On Her Own 1 Rewrite#3 3 scenes

Postby khammel » Sun Jun 23, 2013 2:37 pm

frice2000 wrote:Why not just drop the Shampoo/Cologne scene then and do the whole story from Ranma's first person perspective?

Edited:

Oh... I re-read your response. I thought it was she would be the character in view every scene with introspection, etc. Instead you mean first person, present tense.

I want it to be 'Her' story. Another person on fanfic.net stripped my name off of "On Her Own" and posted it. Saying the original Author gave them permission. I had them delete the story so I could post my 'official' version with no confusion. I feel that bought my title (third person) back, so I will go with third person to keep with 'Her'. Now I get to see if I get a better reaction if I post an improved version of my original work.

Sorry for my confusion.
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