Dammit, Ranma thought, struggling for a moment against his tubby captor. I shoulda expected something like that from that jerk, but who woulda thought that the scrawny weasel was so fast! Fatso's got a good grip, but if he thinks that raw muscle's enough to hold me, he's got another thing comin'.
Fitting thought to action, Ranma quickly ceased his struggles and just threw himself backwards as hard as he could, pushing himself even further into the blubber of his captor. Promising himself a *long* shower even as he slid out of the Blob's grip with the slack his previous action had provided, he dropped to his knee while simultaneously throwing up his arms. One calloused hand clasped around the Brotherhood member's right wrist, still in the same position it was when Mystique's son had escaped his grasp, while the other firmly gripped the youth's belt buckle, and with a quick pivot of the hips Ranma sent the mutant flying out the far window.
Of all the room's occupants, only Pietro and Ranma saw anything between Blob wrapping his arms around the martial artist and then picking himself up off the lawn.
Ignoring the look of shock on the faces of the mutants around him, Ranma quickly slid into his casual battle stance, all traces of jet lag forgotten as his ki flooded his body in an flare invisible to all but the highest ranks of martial artists. "Alright, Pero or whatever. Like I said before - NOBODY threatens my mom. And if ya try that again, I ain't the one payin' the dentist to remove all your teeth from your ass, got it?"
The flatscan's smirk and threats more than overrode the faint sensation of danger that this feat of strength and speed created in the Maximoff boy. Returning arrogance with the same, Pietro adopted a surprisingly similar expression before retorting. "Is that a challenge, human? Sounds fun. I'd tell you not to complain about the beating I'm about to give you, but really, that's between you and your undertaker."
With that, Magneto's son charged at Mystique's, more than confident that the preternatural speed granted by his superior genes would be enough to counteract the strange strength that this alleged normal had displayed. But while it was true that Ranma couldn't hope to match Pietro in a foot race, as soon as the white haired boy had entered arm's length, it became another story altogether.
Arms that were honed under the Kachu Tenshin Amaguriken training lashed out, and a hand that could tear steel like paper wrapped its fingers around the mutant's throat before he could properly react to the unexpected burst of speed. Quickly recovering, Pietro's hands blurred just as fast towards the wrist of the arm that had caught him, falling into the trap his more skilled opponent had set for him. With Quicksilver distracted, Ranma was free to bend down and grab his opponent's left ankle. Quickly pulling it up to shoulder length and wrapped it around the back of his head, jutting out over his right shoulder, which left the considerably less flexible Pietro frozen in pain for an eternal moment. The Saotome boy's first hand released its grip on the mutant's throat and instead reached into the tiny gap remaining between upraised leg and relatively scrawny chest, grabbing Pietro's left wrist and pulling it through the gap.
From there, Pietro experienced a few heartbeats of mind boggling pain as Ranma continued his impromptu contortion lesson before sweet unconciousness descended upon him. His last coherent thought before he took his nap was, I just hope someone stops Blob before he decides to take me up on all those times I told him to "Bite me"...
As the rest of the house's residents didn't actually have time to recover from the shock of the Duke boy's lesson in aerodynamics as related to fat bastards, they really had no need to change their expressions. Even Mystique felt slightly poleaxed by the skill and power her son displayed, despite having anticipated his victory.
Even though none of the spectators were even remotely fast enough to see the battle, the reason for this surprise was apparent. Sometime in the eyeblink between the exchange of opening insults and the end of the fight, it seemed that the newest member of Mystique's dysfunctional little family had managed to tie Pietro Maximoff into a very good imitation of a pretzel.
Cracking his knuckles, Ranma looked down at his opponent with lidded eyes. "I warned ya not to do that, dumbass. Anyone else feel like threatening my mother, just save us all some time and beat *yourselves* into a coma, alright?"
Lance and Todd both snarled a bit at their pseudo-guest's arrogance, but as they were respectively more level-headed and more cowardly than Pietro, they let it slide for the moment. Seeing a confused Fred Dukes re-enter the room, itchin' for a fight, Lance opened his mouth to comment...
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(Posted Mon, 16 Aug 2004 16:40)
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らんま1/2 © Rumiko Takahashi
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