[Episode 2188] [Episode 2188]Ranma just laid there, staring at the ceiling, trying to decide what he needed to do and hopefully escape with his life.
Oh, his life here was pretty much over. There would be no safety anymore, not when Nabiki woke up. Sure, she looked cute now, what with the smile, the contended look on her face as she cuddled into his side, the way her leg was wrapped around his as she molded into his side. Hell, she too had several dozen bite marks all over her body, including … were those hickies all over her breasts?
But when she woke up, his wallet wouldn’t even get a chance to scream out before its life ended. Even if the parents didn’t know about this yet—and seriously, even he knew his luck wasn’t that good—he would be her slave for the rest of his life. He was going to be rented out more than a blockbuster movie.
And if the parents did know, he’d be before a priest in an hour. Then she’d make him really pay. She’d drop some hints to his mother; next thing he’d know, he’d be doing whatever half-assed thing Nabiki would require to prove he was manly.
Turning his head slightly, he noticed almost a mirror image with Sheila, the petite jagwere also cuddling into his side. If not for their respective appearance, one would almost think they were mirror images. The only superficial difference was that Ranma couldn’t spot any bite marks, scratches, or hickies on her body thanks to the fur.
And who knew what her brother would do to him when Gar discovered what had occurred. Ranma didn’t doubt for a moment what Sheila had said about her brother’s over-protectiveness.
Oh yes, someone was going to get a beat down after this. And after it was him, he was going to make sure others got theirs as well. The fathers, Happosai, those damned ninjas, the idiot who sold the old men that cursed antique, whoever made that dust Happosai had…
Man that was going to be a long list. Maybe he could save himself some time and give half of it to Gar.
Stretching his legs a bit, he wondered why he felt … warm in a very weird way.
Looking down at his legs, he noticed … they were a bit farther down than the last time he looked … and seemed a bit hairier. Ah crud, he internally grumbled, this is going to be trouble.
Sure enough, he looked over, spotting Nabiki shifting as well. Well, it won’t be too bad, he thought. At least it is something to share with Sheila.
Hey, maybe I won’t be scared of cats no more! she shouted in his mind. There had to be some good from becoming a were-cat. Hell, maybe the Nekoken was based off them.
Oh, who was he kidding? His luck wasn’t that good.
Come to think of it; shouldn’t his fur be the same color as Sheila’s? The fur was spotted, but the color tone was off. It looked more like … Brittany’s.
“I just can’t win,” he murmured, laying his head back down. How the hell was he going to explain this … and would anyone give him a chance before they tried to end his life? This just couldn’t get worse.
He should have known better, as that was the moment two things occurred.
The first was a stereo purring sound. As his body shifted, so did his hands, enough to start the rumbling engines of the two weres next to him. The only good thing was that he wasn’t freaking out from the action. If anything, it made them a bit cuter. That was something he was going to enjoy while he was still living, for however long that would be. As such, he saw no need to stop his manhood’s rise to life.
He did stop from even attempting to rub the two girls, since that would wake them, and thus shorten his remaining life span. Nabiki was easy: she wasn’t a morning person and it was still definitely morning. Sheila … well, she did mention the stories of a playboy were-tiger from the Edge Guard. He was pretty certain a threesome might fall under the Kapowie assault.
And the second…
Moisha Rich wasn’t a bright wererat, she’d admit that. She’d rather at times just hang out with her two friends than most of what she usually had to do, such as training under insane ninjas that like to teach through fatal wounds or from whatever odd chores Lord Gothwrain sent them on.
So they dodged the latest training and went out drinking.
There were a few problems. One, they didn’t speak much Japanese. It didn’t hurt too much when shopping or buying food. But try finding a good bar when people couldn’t understand what you were asking.
It had been fun when Romeo ended up entering those male strip clubs first. Oh, it was a cute blush, and she’d never seen Lyds shoot beer out her nose like that.
It took them that long to remember the translation potions they were given for missions and drink them down.
But eventually they found a nice quiet place, one that served a good beer—and a few fruity drinks that were out of this world.
Okay, so the fact a werecat showed up with some human was a bit of a downer. But it wasn’t the last werecheetah, so no biggie. Though why a werecat was that big as a human was a bit of a concern. But as long as Romeo didn’t go grab her chest—like, he really had to stop doing that, wererats were not supposed to grab werecat breasts—they should be fine.
Hell, it was quiet; there was beer, and no sign of their abusive trainer. All was right with the world.
And then all hell broke loose.
She had a few memories of the event. Flashes of memories that explained what happened. She recalled them being separated, some girl with long brown hair and a plain looking house dress grabbing Romeo, slamming him on the bar, and ripping his clothes off.
Like, Japanese girls really are desperate, she chuckled internally. Only in a country where they sold panties in vending machines—ewwwwwwwwwww—could Romeo get sexually assaulted by some desperate housewife. Sure, Romeo was okay, not hunky cute like the guy who had been chatting with the werecat, but the woman hadn’t even looked around for any other guy before grabbing Romeo.
There were a bit more flashes: some guy with black hair, a short child-like jagwere, some girl with short brown hair that reminded her of a wererat from school, and…
“My f*ck*ng head,” muttered Lydia, somewhere near Moisha. The purple-furred wererat had yet to open her eyes, her own skull hurting too much at the moment to try.
“Like, Lyds?”
“Yeah?”
“My head hurts.”
“Well good for you,” grumbled the tanned wererat. “My everything hurts.”
“Shit.”
That got the two wererats’ attention. That male voice certainly wasn’t Romeo, and this floor was definitely not a carpeted hotel room, nor the rough floor of where they were staying for training.
“Who the f*ck are you?” grumbled Lydia, as she tried to sit up, noticing that … she was naked.
“Soon to be a man who will die in ways you can’t imagine,” said Ranma, as he saw the two slowly sit up from the floor, barely making out their heads over Sheila’s form. “You ain’t werecats, are you?”
“Wererats, you dumb *ssh*le,” grumbled Lydia. Why did her privates feel so sore?
Ranma just sighed. “Oh,” he murmured. Last night, he slept with a werecat, a human, and two wererats. His mom would be so proud; she’d have the best story to tell her friends of what got her son killed.
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(Posted Tue, 04 Nov 2008 07:38)
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