Nabiki sighed as her new lab secured itself to her wall. The good news was that they had found her plenty of raw materials at the Magic Mall—ten tons of electronics for ten yen—so she now could start making him equipment and items for his soon-to-be coming hero career.
The bad news was that she had been hoping to get him stinky from dumpster diving for electronics, and thus have to check into a Love Hotel with him as his clothes were cleaned.
“Oh well,” she sighed, as the new door opened to her lab.
And walked into a small holographic girl.
“Who are you?” she asked, used to such instances thanks to Ryoga. Plus, unknown to Ranma, for some reason or another, other Hibikis had been popping up there, even a Yoiko Hibiki, who just happened to be Ryoga’s younger sister by two years, and who had a huge crush on Ranma.
It raised the question of exactly how much of their supposed dual was about bread and how much of it was really about Ryoga trying to scare Ranma away from his little sister. I’ll have to ask him about that. It’s time I get a little more knowledge on that subject.
“I am the automated response artificial intelligence designed to assist you in the use of your new subspace pocket dimension and other utilities of this lab. But could you call me Little Cyber Washu!”
Sighing, Nabiki began to empty the contents of the Bottomless Bag onto the floor. “So what do you suggest we make first?”
Little Cyber Washu cackled a bit, letting all know that this ... would be painful.
Ranma sighed as he stepped out of the furo, glad that only he and the two older Tendo sisters were home at the moment. The two fathers, as well as any fiancées—cute or uncute—were still probably looking for him somewhere near Hokkaido by now.
This meant he was now free to play with Bob today.
Sadly, all he had left for clean clothes were for his lower half. Sure, he had some shirts, but they were feminine, pink, and blouses. Knew I would regret letting Mom take her ‘daughter’ on a shopping trip.
“Wait,” he said. “I have that shirt I bought from the shop. Hope it fits.”
Now some may ask exactly ‘what qualifies as a mutated symbiote’. After all, don’t the symbiotes always mutate to grow stronger and add additional talents and powers to there repertory?
Well, this symbiote was very different. You see, in terms of mutation, for a symbiote, it meant distinct changes to personality.
Well, that, and the fact it released the aroma of certain flowers, depending on the emotions of the host and the form it was in.
Full body costume: no scent.
A shirt: anything from roses, lavenders, or that rotting smell that one plant makes to bring flies, the carrion flowers. Of course, that last one only occurred if you were extremely depressed and didn’t want anyone near you.
Aside from the smell though, it had other quirks. For one, it didn’t seek dominance like the other symbiotes or thrive on violence—the last would have helped it in Nerima a lot more.
It was what you might call ... a positive guiding force. It mentally connected to the host, and inserted a need to get better in all things.
For Ranma, this would be both a good thing and a bad thing.
Good because the symbiote would help him become a better martial artist.
Bad because the symbiote would also insist he became a better scholar as well.
Oh well.
Ranma looked himself over in the mirror. “Man, it even matches my pants,” he smiled, before shaking his head. “I really need to stop allowing Mom to take me out as Ranko. This is starting to get scary.
“And why do I smell carnations?”
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(Posted Tue, 03 Oct 2006 09:17)
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