Lounging on a pile of cushions in her own not-so-modest slice of Heaven, Bast lazily watched Ranma and his companions on a big, flat-screen television. Ranma and Archon had looked so adorable curled together on the bunk, and their expressions as they awoke were utterly priceless! Amusement turned to only mild interest, though, as the feline trio (Ranma, Sheila, and Archon) parted ways with Brod, his crew, and Gar, and explored Sailor’s Island. Ranma and Archon showed genuine interest as Sheila pointed out local hot-spots, but it was beginning to get a little boring for Bast.
A sudden twinge pulled Bast’s attentions from the group and to a werecat-crewed vessel approaching Sailor’s Island. The sight of a slender red Heavy Cruiser soaring towards the small island made Bast’s eyes narrow in thought. ‘Hmm, so my wayward kitten arrives at last. Sorry Ranma, but it’s time to get back to work.’ Snapping her fingers authoritatively, Bast sent a subtle message on it’s way, before taking a sip of her White Russian, studying the red ship on the screen contemplatively.
Towering some feet above even the taller of his two companions, Ranma eyed a tavern with interest, his sensitive nose picking out several enticing scents that almost drew him into-
*WHAAMM!*
Archon and Sheila stared at the hefty statue that had just driven Ranma’s face into the ground, shocked into inaction for several seconds before a muffled groan snapped them back to attention. Utilising telepathy to degree that she would have thought herself incapable of only a day earlier, Jalliele'Brea grabbed the marble figure and hurled it to the side. “Ranma, are you alright!?”
Sheila knelt next to Ranma and grunted with effort as she flipped him over onto his back. “Speak to us, you big lug!”
Ranma groaned as the dull throbbing only a heavy, blunt object can bring faded away. “…ow.” Rolling his head to the side, he blinked as his eyes settled on the cause of his pain. “Hey, a Maneki Neko!”
The two women were obviously confused. “What’s a maneki neko?”
Ranma rolled into a sitting position before standing up, walking over to the statue as he answered the Jagwere. “They’re supposed to bring good luck.”
The Silvite of the group frowned at the stone figure. “How ironic.”
“…whatever. It’s weird, though; these thing usually carry a koban, not a scroll.” Leaning down, Ranma pulled the rolled up piece of paper from the statue’s paw and unravelled it. ‘…Ranma. Go to the temple of Bast. Signed, your Boss. PS, this message will self-destruct.’ After a long second, Ranma scrunched up the paper into a ball and tossed it down the street, where it vaporized in a violent flash of flame. “Cool.”
Sheila frowned at the still smouldering spot on the stone pathway. “What was that all about?”
“Just a message from my boss. She wants me to visit the Temple of Bast, wherever that is.”
“Well, like I said earlier, Sailor’s Island is pretty small, so this portion of it is mostly for industry; a couple of shipyards, docks, smiths, warehouses for storing cargo, and markets for buying and selling very large items or product in bulk. Most people live in Seer’s Hamlet, and that’s where you’ll find the Temple of Bast.”
Ranma smiled. “Great! So, which way are we headed?”
The petite Jagwere pointed down the street. “There’s a doorway just down there.”
It took less than a minute for the trio to reach the area that Sheila had indicated, and the female werecat waved her hand down in front of a blank section of wall. To Ranma and Archon’s surprise, a large rectangular hole opened up in mid air. They stepped in after Sheila, and found themselves in a small gazebo with a bowl on the floor.
Sheila stopped Ranma from walking forward. “Hang on, I just need to pay the entrance fee.” The young air pirate rummaged through her pack and pulled out a small coin bag, form which she pulled three silver-looking coins that she then dropped into the bowl. The air around the gazebo shimmered, and Sheila hefted her pack back onto her back. “Ok, now we can go.”
Jalliele’Brea was staring about in not a little wonder as she followed Sheila and Ranma through the city. ‘So many races, so many people, and trees, and homes…’ To be honest, she was a little overwhelmed. Compared to the almost sterile existence the Silvites enjoyed within the Great Silver Shrine, Seer’s Hamlet was a veritable explosion of colors, sights, and sensations. Slightly unnerved by a number of hulking, hideous beings striding past the group, she sped up enough to catch up to her companions.
Shiela arched an eyebrow as the redheaded Silvite caught up, then stuck as close as she could get to Ranma without actually physically touching him. “Are you alright?”
“Yes, thank you.” Archon glanced back. “Tell me, what were those beings?”
“Hmm?” Ranma and Sheila both glanced back. “Oh, those are Wart Ogres.”
Ranma snorted. “What kind of a name is ‘Wart Ogre’?”
“I hear they’re trying to get people to call them ‘Blister Titans’ these days.” Looking up, Sheila pointed towards the canopy of the colossal trees that the city was built upon. “The Temple of Bast is just up there. The big building with the statues out the front…do you see it?”
Looking through the trees, Ranma’s searching gaze stopped on a huge building built around the forks in the uppermost sections of one of the great trees. Out near what was presumably the entrance of the building, a trio of statues was built; one of a buxom human woman in a robe that didn’t conceal quite as much as clothing of that type typically does, another statue of an even more buxom (and very familiar) werelioness, and another of a powerful, sleek lioness. “I see it.”
“Good. It’ll take a while to get that high up, but if you’re in a hurry I guess I could pay for us to ride on some of the public transports. WHOAH!”
Ranma smirked, having picked up Sheila with ease. “No need.” He turned to Archon, but she was already levitating several feet off the ground. Grinning, he crouched down slightly, then launched himself up to the next level, Archon following close behind as Sheila shrieked in surprise.
In a large, tastefully and warmly decorated room that could have been called an office if it were less homey, an elegant and staggering beautiful werelioness finished off a small pile of paperwork with a swipe of her quill. Tidying up the pile, she rose from her seat and dropped it into the ‘out’ box on another table, watching with a sense of satisfaction as the forms vanished. A quick glance at a wall clock to check the time, and she smiled. Checking that a certain map was rolled up neatly on her desk, she took one last glance around her office to make sure everything was in place before leaving.
A leisurely walk down the wide, roaming staircase to the entrance hall of the temple later, and the High Priestess of Jade’s Bast-worshiping population was in position as some most welcome visitors walked through the vast doors. Her green eyes roamed the ebony werecat’s form appreciatively as she closed the distance between herself and the group. “Greetings Avatar Ranma. I am the High Priestess of this Temple, though please, call me Serisse.” She bowed deeply to the confused martial artist, continuing once she righted herself. “I look forward to working beneath you in Bast’s service.” If there were any less-than wholesome intentions behind that statement, her serene face wasn’t betraying them.
Ranma blinked and bowed back reflexively. “Pleased to meet you. Ah, just call me Ranma.”
Serisse nodded. “Very well.” The religious leader turned to the two females. “Forgive me, but there are sensitive matters that I must discuss with Ranma before we can speak of the matter at hand. Perhaps you would like to relax in the bathhouse while you wait?”
To Sheila’s surprise, Archon nodded unusually eagerly. “That would be greatly appreciated, High Priestess.”
Although faintly suspicious, both of Serisse and Archon, Sheila nodded anyway; it had been several weeks since she had the chance to actually soak in a bath. “That would great. Thanks…um, High Priestess.”
Serisse waved over two younger priestesses. “Anna, Christine, please show these two ladies to the bathhouse.” As the four younger women walked away, the High Priestess wrapped her arm around one of Ranma’s, crushing the black-furred limb against her breasts as she urged him towards the stairs. “Come, my office is this way.”
A female werecat had just set foot on the docks of Sailor’s Island. Her fur was an incredibly dark blue, though it looked black unless seen in just the right lighting. Her eyes, like shining rubies in her face, scanned the dock carefully, her right hand resting casually on the pommel of the rapier concealed beneath her gold-trimmed, violet silk cloak. Taking one last look at the crimson ship drifting above her, she stalked silently towards the centre of the island, a faint whisper slipping, unheard, from her lips.
“Home, sweet home.”
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(Posted Tue, 07 Mar 2006 15:27)
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