“As for Ranma, well, his mother was a goddess herself. Maybe it was just time, or maybe it was that the luck Genma acquired as being a descendant of Bensaiten, the Japanese Goddess of Good Fortune, roused itself briefly. Whatever the case, Ranma has a power from the “merger” in addition to being the son of Bastet,” the Sage of Cruxes explained to the overweight individual and his son.
Perking his head up, the five-year-old gave the elderly blind man a curious look. “I... I have a mama?”
Nodding his head, the Sage replied, “Yes, young man. It happened when the your father and Bastet ended meeting at “Mixer” Bar—no pun intended. The martial artist, having drunk entirely too much and Bastet, having smoked WAY too much reef—er, I mean, “catnip” decided that your father had potential and took him back to her palace in the Bubastis prefecture of the great city of Heliopolis and rode him like a ten copper donkey.”
Although he was already familiar with his father’s drinking, even at such a tender age, Ranma wasn’t sure why smoking catnip was such a big deal or what the euphemism the sage used meant. Understandably, that is why the young child questioned, “Do you mean papa gave mama a piggyback ride?”
A sweat-drop trailed down Herald’s brow. “Somewhat. She only rated the experience a ‘three’ on her scale of one-to-ten but the fact of the matter was the goddess got what she wanted... she got you.”
“I was a prize!?” Genma questioned, ignoring the fact that the blind seer was talking to his son and was instead, considering then angles that a GODDESS wanted him.
“...Yeah, we’ll go with that,” the Sage replied, rubbing his forehead. He really either needed a new gig or a lower-age limit to talk to and explain the facts of life to the demigods.
Preferably someone with an IQ higher than they could count with their shoes off...
“How come papa would let mommy ride piggyback but not me?”
... And there was the next reason...
Watching as the elderly man sat down, sighing heavily, the ponytailed child didn’t mind as his question was ignored as he smiled, a look of pure delight on his face. He... had had a mother! He couldn’t remember his mother at all but if this old man knew who his mama was... “Mister...” he spoke up, tugging at the lower robes of the blind man. “What’s mama like?”
“Your mother is Bastet, one of the Highest Ranked Goddesses in all of Heliopolis, Egypt,” the Sage Crux explained. “She is the second daughter of Rah, the Sun God and Head of their Pantheon; the woman herself a Moon Goddess. She is also the Goddess of Cats, Children, Men, Pregnant Women, Knowledge, Perfume and... um...” he paused for a moment as he tried to figure out how to explain this to a child. Finally, he decided, “She is also the Goddess of “Happy Time”...”
“Happy time?” young Ranma questioned. “You mean like cookies?”
“... Anyway,” the Sage continued, not wanting to touch that one with a ten foot pole. “She had sent me to inform you of your parentage years back, as well as the edict to keep an eye out for and then deliver you to safely a meeting with her.”
The young child perked up immediately. “I’ll get to meet Mama!?”
The blind man could feel the puppy-like eyes upon him and little sparkles in the air. “Yes.”
Practically bouncing in his seat, the young Ranma piped up, “And will there be Happy Times as well?”
The Sage had to bite his tongue. No; no, that joke was too easy to make... easy as Bastet—DAMN IT!
Although he was pleased with the idea that the version of him in this world had nailed a Goddess—he knew he had it in him—there was worry to be had with two things he considered important. First, she was looking for him. Second, he had apparently merged with the version of him that was here! He knew the stories of what could happen with vengeful deities when someone screwed with those they cared about. “Er... sir? Let’s not be too hasty now...”
“Please, grandpa’s been on the look out—not physically but you get the idea—for you two for ages now,” the grandson of the sage spoke up. “Bastet lost both her “Bob” and “precious little Ranma” at the same time when Ptah came home.”
Genma blinked his eyes once, twice. “Who’s Ptah?”
“Ptah was the Egyptian God of Woodwork, Stone Masonry, Pyramids and was Bastet’s husband,” the Sage of Cruxes explained. “He’d been missing for a thousand years-plus and finally came home to find neither of his wives but “Bob” lounging about and the child playing on the floor...” the old man frowned. “He did not take well to one of his wives having a child outside of marriage and smote the two of you on the spot.”
Realizing that yes, Gods DID indeed smite people without a second though, Genma went wide-eyed. “...Damn, I do not envy this "Bob"... or...” he gulped. “The fate that might befall me!”
“Oh, relax!” the Sage of Cruxes snorted in disgust at the man’s cowardice. “Ptah has already been dealt with for destroying Bastet’s happiness... and if you finally want her to call you by your proper name instead of just “Bob”, you’ll lose some weight and read some sexual aid books, tubby!”
The Master of the Saotome School of Anything Goes Martial Arts blinked his eyes once, twice. “...I’M NOT FAT!!”
“Well, you certainly aren’t big-boned,” the Sage replied. “And you could at least be thankful to the Goddess who pulled your pathetic soul from the Abyss, restored you to life—granted, at the cost of your lives in another reality, but who really cares about such a thing in this reality—and firm up a bit. Bastet prefers a six-pack, not a Pepsi Cube!”
“Bah,” Genma waved off. What woman wouldn’t love the perfection that was he?
Across the multiverse, a series of sneezes occurred, so powerful, that they prepared the way for the Big Crunch in a shitload of a billion years.
“As it stands...” the blind sage continued. “Bastet will be thrilled when she hears that I have received her son and... er... “friend with minimally minimal benefits”, her words not mine.” He turned his head, looking at the wall as he called to his grandson, “Boy! Did you send that messenger owl to Bastet yet?”
“I did, Grandpa Herald,” the young child said from behind the blind man. “I did that as soon as they teleported within your sacred spell circle.”
Nodding his head, Herald Kruz, the Sage of Cruxes replied, “Good. I just hope she doesn’t eat it this time. Good delivery owls are getting harder and harder to come by as Hogwarts holds the monopoly...” damn those British bastards!
“...Hogwarts?” asked Ranma.
The blind Sage turned towards a potted plant. “Hogwarts is a silly place, young Ranma. It is filled with a twinkling moron, a lack of common sense, subpar teachers, inbred students, and every seven years, one student is selected for whatever reasons to be constantly attacked to see if he dies.”
The youth considered that for a moment. “...That sounds a lot like the grade school Papa put me in last week,” Ranma replied.
“No boy, that wasn’t a school. That was Children Protective Services while your father tried to explain that he didn’t try to be drunk in public,” Genma explained. Damn bartenders! Throwing out honest people when they couldn’t pay their tabs! Shaking his head, the pudgy martial artist then spoke up, “Anyway, perhaps we should get going now...”
THAT caught the blind prophet’s attention. “...What?” the Sage spoke up. “Why would you leave? Bastet has been looking for you and her son for years now! By a twist of fate—and likely the bumbling of sub-par goddess that owed her favors—you are here and she is desperate to see you again!”
“Well, tough titties! This world is dangerous enough as is and I need to up my son’s training, PRONTO!” the glasses-wearing martial artist proclaimed as he stood. “Come on, Ranma! Let’s get going!”
“But...” the boy looked up at his father. “I wanna see mama!”
“Foolish boy, don’t you know womanly influences make you soft and weak!?” Genma shouted... and regretted it as his son started to get teary-eyed. “Damn it, Ranma! What did I say about crying?”
“...It...” the boy hiccupped. “It’s not manly?” he raised his arm and wiped his nose with the back of his gi sleeve.
“That's right!” the older Saotome shouted as he held out his hand. “Now come along! There’s much work to be done!”
“Excuse me,” the Sage butted in. “But did you think it would be that easy?”
“Excuse me!!!” Genma replied. “But do you think you can do to stop us?”
“Do you think I got my title from a box of grain?” the Sage replied, looking at his assistant, actually looking in the correct direction of said child. “Any word from you and I’ll reverse your gender.”
The grandson of the sage of Cruxes pouted. “Grandpa, I wasn’t going to say anything against you earning your title... you did earn it...”
“Oh? And how is that, old man?” Genma snorted as he slowly slipped into the Karate Horse Stance, emphasizing on power and striking. “Why do you think you’ve earned such a ti—”
*Fwip*!
*Thunk*!
“...tle?” Genma finished with a squeak as he felt a stinging sensation across the top of his head. He slowly, cautiously raised a hand a hand up and felt that his head was bald and... sticky?
Lowering his hand down to his field of vision, he saw a small trickle of blood on it. He looked up and saw his bandana embedded into the wall via an arrow.
“I earned the title as the Sage of Cruxes,” the Seer started to explain with a serious tone of voice. “Because I’m the only human mage in this territory that made friends with them...” he said cryptically as he pointed out the window.
“We’re over here, old man,” came a firm female voice from behind the portly martial artist. He turned about and saw a contingent of people. All female, but with pointed ears, silvery-white hair and obsidian-black skin with eyes that glowed red from the darkness. Each of them was decked in black leather armor and holding fearsome weaponry... one of which was a woman holding an ebony-wood longbow, already aiming another black bolt.
Looking up at the new people that gathered, Ranma questioned, “Licorice People?”
“No, young lad,” the Sage told the Asian youth. “These ladies are of the Drow; a generally evil-aligned, dark-skinned sub-race of the Elven folk... however, you are lucky in that these Drow are in service to the Drow Goddess Eilistraee, a Lunar Goddess of song, beauty, dance, sword-work, hunting and moonlight.
“...But...” the young child started. “The ladies look like they’re black licorice.”
The old blind sage twitched. “They are not food.”
“...So... no licking?” Ranma asked. Darn it! He was hungry! Old Man never let him have any licorice! And now licorice people weren’t made of licorice!
This new world sucked, and he still wasn’t getting to see his mother!
It doubly-super-duper sucked!
Patting a hand atop his head, Genma’s eyes narrowed as he looked about the women with pure, unadulterated terror cautiously. “Had I hair, I would really hurt you now.”
“Yes, I could see how having hair might have alerted you to the arrow passing over your scalp,” the Sage sneered.
“HEY!” Ranma yelled. “Daddy’s not bald! He’s like that to be more aero... gyro... um...” the boy paused for a moment before shouting, “He does that to move better in air!”
Laughing as he realized the boy was in his corner, Genma felt his confidence to get things done return! “That’s right! I am a Master of the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts and—I YIELD, I YIELD, I YIELD! GOOD KAMI, I YIELD!!” the fat man cried as the female Drow warrior closest to him grabbed his crotched, pulled it up, and pressed a serpentine-curved dagger at the base of where his scrotum would be behind his gi pants.
“Listen, you dumbass human male...” the female hissed, the look of annoyance clearly visible on her ebony features. “You are lucky we’re here to escort you out of here safely. Do you not realize you are in the “Gray Zone”?”
“Guh-Gray Zone?” Genma whimpered as he tried to stay as still as possible as she threatened to castrate him in a way that reminded him of how Nodoka got him to propose in the first place... only this woman wasn’t also talking dirty!
“Yesss...” she hissed. “The Gray Zone of Germany, where the Darkened Lands of the East collide with the Faeirie and Human Magics that protect the Western half of Europe. The Gray Zone is where WE hold domain but be forewarned... the Goddess that has full reign over all in this realm of the world, Lolth... is one of the Darkness herself and shows them favor...” she looked up into Genma’s gaze with red eyes filled with hate. “Without us, there would be no way you would to safely find your way back into the light.”
“Thenwethankyouforyourhelp!Nowpleaseremovethesharppointythingfrommygroin!” Genma rapidly responded, sweating bullets.
“What did he say?” asked one Drow in the back of the group.
“I think he asked her to poke him some more!” cried another.
Ranma just kept looking back and forth. He wanted to help his father ... but his father always said real men never needed help. So... why was he motioning with his eyes for Ranma to join him near the licorice woman who had the pointy thing to his father’s ‘no-no zone’?
His thoughts were interrupted when he found his shoulder tapped. Turning... and looking up, he noticed one of the licorice people smiling down at him, holding a small pouch. “Candy?” As she nodded her head, the boy smiled brightly. “...Licorice people are the bestest people in the world,” Ranma cooed, as he took the pouch.
Even better, unlike when his father offered him a similar bag, this had more than one piece surrounded by empty wrappers. THIS... HAD... CANDY!!
The Drow woman smiled as she watched the boy lap up the catnip-laced treats like sugar rather than retching like a human child would. “Yep, I’d say that the merger was complete and Bastet has her child back...”
Blinking at hearing the name, young Ranma looked up from his bag of kitty crack candy and asked, “You know my mommy?”
Favoring the child a gentle smile, the Drow explained, “I know OF her, and even then, it’s only through my own Patron Goddess. I am Qilué Veladorn, or High Priestess Eresseae Qilué Silverhand of the Temple of Eilistraee.”
“Or,” the Drow woman slowly sliding her knife along the gi pants of Genma spoke up, needing to raise her voice to be heard over the man’s crying. “You could call her what we all do and refer to her as, “Stuck-Up Bitch”.”
Qilué twitched. “Luthana, don't make me bitch-smack you with the power divine behind me.”
Sighing, the Sage lowered his head. “Grandchild, do summon Lady Bastet now, so that we may be done with this.”
Having heard that, Qilué turned towards the two humans. “It may be best to hold off summoning her until we reach our Lady’s Temple. If we summon her too soon, then Lolth may approach and interfere.”
The Sage of Cruxes turned, staring at the dinner table. “You just want to walk a few kilometers with a knife to a male’s crotch.”
“......I stand by my earlier statement...” the Dark Elven High Priestess replied, although not denying what the old man suggested. “Lolth has eyes and ears everywhere. These boys are lucky that when they appeared they literally appeared right in your home, one of possibly a dozen places in the Gray Zone that is truly free from the scrying of the Drow Goddess and her minions...”
“B-b-but...” Genma whimpered. “If her eyes and ears are everywhere... won’t she know that we’re here?”
“That is true but she’d find out MUCH faster should a foreign goddess try to barge in on her territory,” Luthana stated. “While you’d stand out like a sore thumb once we leave this cottage... Bastet’s arrival would be like a big splash of white paint across a black car.” She paused and added, “The glittery kind...”
“Yes, yes,” the Sage replied. By the Gods, when would they take a hint and leave!? “Now then, I’m sure Lady Bastet is waiting for them, so you may wish to expedite their return to her, before I have a horde of angry spider-riding hoes knocking on my door... and not in a good way I can write to certain publications about later.”
“What does that mean?” asked Ranma, the empty bag on the floor, and his eyes shining in the demand for knowledge.
“SOOO~OOO CUUU~UUUTE!”
And also in a manner that made all good-aligned females want to cuddle him.
“ACK!”
At least those not ready to introduce the Legend of Lorena Bobbit onto this Earth...
Raising her hand to her face, Qilué gently rubbed her eyes in an effort to avert an oncoming migraine. “Ladies... let us make haste. The Sage of Cruxes is right. We should get going as the longer we stay here, the more agitated Lolth will become and think we’re up to something against her, being the untrusting spider monster that she is,” the High Priestess replied. “Come and let us get back to the Temple before we alert her to the presence of young Ranma and... er...” she looked up at Genma. “Your name is “Bob”... right?”
“Actually it’s Genm-BOB! BOB IS GOOD!" he cried out as Luthana pressed her sacrificial dagger harder against him.
The Sage only smiled after the group had left and the door closed, Gen—Bob leaving by Knife-point while Ranma was being held by one Drow and cooed over by several others.
Taking a deep breath, he turned around and looked down at the floor... although it was very lightly he meant to look at portion of the floor with the sacred circle behind him. “I asked for a hot humanoid female with large... assets!” he yelled, turning to his grandchild. “What did you do wrong with the runes that got them instead!?”
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(Posted Tue, 28 Jun 2011 23:55)
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