Consciousness returned, bearing with it the image of a ceiling that was somewhat less than familiar. Ranma blinked, taking in the rough hewn stone, arched vaults and the single gothic chandelier right above her, in which a number of guttering candles flickered uncertainly. Idly, she noted that the floor beneath her was immensely hard, except for where her head was propped up, which was only somewhat firm.
And breathing.
It didn't take a genius to figure out that she was laying on someone, so Ranma rubbed her eyes and sat up as part of her tried to recall, what, exactly, had hit her. Her efforts to recall what had just happened took a back seat, though, as almost immediately she was taken by the image of her reflection in a large, wall mounted mirror. She blinked, then blinked again and rubbed at her eyes. Her vividly red eyes.
As one might imagine, this did nothing to dismiss the stubby, triangular ears latched onto the side of her head. Or the tiny bat's wings on her back. Just to complete the look, she supposed, a long, spade tipped tail emerged from where one normally would expect a tail to emerge from. Aside from these modifications, however, she looked essentially normal, if you could count her being a girl as normal. And, she had to admit, the effect would have been devastatingly cute if those had been the only thing changed.
Unfortunately, it wasn't; her clothing had also undergone revision, and one far greater than that done to her body. She hadn't been wearing bracers, but she was now, each formed of black leather with a somewhat bewildering array of straps and buckles, replete with attached, fingerless gloves. On her legs was a set that, if not identical, was certainly designed to accompany the arm bands and similarly were conjoined with toeless boots. With a considerable quantity of heel, much to her annoyance.
Her favorite shirt had gone bye-bye, to be replaced with a very, very close fitting strapless minidress formed of a sturdy, heavy white cloth overlaid with yet more black, be-strapped and buckled leather running up the sides. It began just above her bust and stopped high on her thigh. Very high on her thigh, actually, nearly to the point of being indecently so.
It wouldn't necessarily have been a problem, but her pants had simply vanished, or perhaps had turned into the leg-guards, which was effectively the same difference anyway. The overall effect was far sexier than Ranma was normally comfortable with, but it wasn't the first time she'd been forced into something ridiculously feminine. And so, after getting over the shock, she pushed the problem aside and cased her surroundings.
It was a fairly large room, pretty much a perfect square, with two tiers, of which she was currently in the the lower thereof. The higher tier formed a walkway that ran around half the rooms edge, terminating in two staircases beneath huge, open doors. A series of candelabras ran around the higher level, their guttering lights filling the cavernous space with flickering shadows.
If Ranma weren't the master martial artist that she was, this may have unnerved her. Hell, it did unnerve her, but the red-head had no intention of letting that show. Surroundings cased and determined to be "really creepy," Ranma turned around to check on her companion but never quite got to it; she was halted by the sight of a large spear resting in the corner. A very large spear, with oh so very large, very stern looking eyes, each a depthless pool of black capped with an angrily slanted eyebrow that would have had Kitsurubami twitching.
Though Ranma had encountered semi-animate objects in past, one with a mouth and entirely too much sass even, (especially considering how worthless the Zhudodao had been) she was still caught flat-footed. "Uh?"
"Hi there!" Greeted the Spear, jovially, always prepared to be helpful and entirely at odds with it's appearance. Ranma blinked, but before she could formulate a response a booming, if rather youthful, voice rang out from above.
"WHO GOES THERE?"
Ranma spun, and looked up, for there, standing in the doorway was a shadowy, figure. A little too short to be really impressive in and of itself, but whoever it was had power like nothing she'd ever felt before. Still, Ranma was nothing if not defiant. And besides, the antennae looked goofy anyway.
"Who's askin?!"
There was a pause as the figure seemed to consider it's response. Then he... or she, Ranma couldn't tell, crossed his arms regally, threw his head back and unleashed a howling, blood-curdling laugh. The he stepped forward his not-entirely terrifying visage becoming clear. He was actually kind of scrawny, but he sure as hell felt strong.
"You don't know who I am? Fool! I... am the Overlord... Laharl!"
Ranma ummed, trying not to become unsettled, which was a lot easier with someone jeering at her, she found. "Yeah, sure, okay..." She muttered, sending a somewhat disbelieving look up at Laharl, glancing at the demoness standing at the self-proclaimed Overlord's side, then at the white clad blonde halfway down the stairs to her, and subtly shifted herself to react if need be. Then she suddenly recalled her pillow, and turned to check on...
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(Posted Sun, 30 Apr 2006 23:59)
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らんま1/2 © Rumiko Takahashi
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