Folding another length of unraveled scroll over her last clean dress, Shampoo placed her scimitar over it to apply pressure to the existing bundle of cloth and paper. Adding a few daggers to even the pressure to every inch of paper the lost warrior hunched down began a new task as she waited for the scroll to dry, hoping that each length of paper would dry evenly and as unwrinkled as possible.
Around her, her prized weapons lay scattered and haphazardly tossed aside as she tore apart the leather and metal sheaths of each one, roughly sewing them together into a make shift water proof carrying case for her scroll.
Sitting legs crossed the purple tresses girl occasionally paused in her work to steady her slowly swaying body, her nausea still playing havoc with her senses, though thankfully much less now than before. The more the scroll dried the better she felt it seemed. But she would still suffer bouts of dry heaves as she tasted sky and heard purple motherscookingvillagechildrensonigghgrtass —
Lurching forward once more, Shampoo clutched her head as another wave of disorientation ravaged through her mind. Taking large gulps of breath she braced herself against the ground, the minutes ticking by. Slowly her breathing regained a more measured pace and she reached out slowly, gingerly, feeling for her scroll, reassuring herself that it was still right where she left it, that it was still safe.
Calming down the Amazon once again returned to her task of sewing leather and pounding metal with her bare hands. Looking over her shoulder she glanced over to the small fire she had started in a futile attempt to dry the oppressive damp cold she felt. Futile in that that feeling seemed to originate in her skull, filling her mind and slowing her thoughts. The only thing that seemed to assuage the sensation was to continue drying the scroll.
Up wind and with her placed between it and the scroll she still felt a nervous fear tremble within her as she watched the flickering flames. Each pop of dry twig and burst of embers enlisting a tiny flinch of her body. Within minutes Shampoo was once again at work, though now in darkness as the smoldering remains of her camp fire died behind her. No longer would she be reading her journal by fire light, not anymore.
Grumbling as she tore open a spear covering, an intricately embroidered layered silk cloth given to her by a teacher? Maybe her mother? Father? Shaking her head at her muddled memories Shampoo tore at the stitches promising that she would beg whoever gave it to her forgiveness if she could ever remember. Looking up from her work again she checked to ensure that her scroll was still safe, any insect or curious beetle swatted away mercilessly should any dare to approach it.
"Greatest fighter of generation, great granddaughter of Cologne, now only glorified baby sitter to book," she cursed as she tried to plan out what to do later. Already the next day was filled with a long search of finding a dry open space, safe from outside intrusion to dry the rest of her scroll. Then followed by long hours of setting up some way to sun dry it without letting any residual moisture from the ground potentially damaging it further. And baring a perfectly clear and cloudless sky, some way to obtain more dry and perfectly clean cloth to absorb the moisture.
Her methods might have been a bit obsessive, but the disjointed memories of her shuddering on the ground miles outside of where ever she had been, laying within a pool of her own vomit for hours as her unseeing eyes screamed, her mind melting and flooding together into one horrific sea of pain/joy/anger/misery/hate/happiness/confusion/fear with colors and sounds blending into each other and interchanging with one another; and she was now a bit more prone to the side of caution.
Bracing herself as another bout of distortion tore through her mind Shampoo once again reached out to her scroll to check upon its condition.
"How many times Great Grandmother tell this one, no take candy from stranger or presents from spirits? No follow strange spirits into woods, no listen to too too strange singing, and always remember that it ALWAYS too good to be true." Chocking down a feeling of bile, she picked up another bit of twisted metal, perhaps once part of a family heirloom? Spirits she hoped not. "Yet what does this one do as soon as see big shadow spirit in dream?" she scolded herself as she swatted a centipede that had gotten a bit too close to her scroll for her liking. "This one take offer, 'win big wish at end'," she spat. "Now look at where that get Shampoo. Lucky if Great Grandmother only send to.... bad magic ponds?"
Magic, back home that had always been more of a game to her. With it so common she had treated it with about as much respect as teenagers in other parts of the world would treat high explosive fireworks or metal and microwaves. An amusing if somewhat destructive diversion from the monotony of rules and manners imposed upon them by the adults who ran their lives. Of course there was BIG magic that should never be played with, like ... what's the place with the water. Her mistake had been to place the large shadow spirit in the same category of anti-bully glasses or hyper fungus.
Sighing, Shampoo placed the make shift scroll case down as she returned to her vigil over her journal. The power to know the future had been too tempting to pass up, but now it seemed that the price wasn't worth it. She had always been more of a free spirit and flippant in her attitudes, how much one took freedom for granted until it was too late. This feeling of being tied to an external object just felt so ... unnatural. If it had been a part of her own body maybe she could have tried to adjust, but there was no strengthening a scroll, no boosting its speed, no taking advantage of some inherent ability of it. It was just so much dead weight and that gnawed at her very sensibilities.
"Shampoo know what do. Fix scroll best as Shampoo can, find Great Grandmother, and then come back. This one will find other book holders, this one beat all others, this one will win wish and tell too too stupid shadow spirit what he can do with damn 'game'." Hugging her knees to herself Shampoo gently rocked back and forth as she continued her watch over what had once been a great boon, but now only looked too much like a shackle.
Read the comments on this episode
(Posted Tue, 26 Jan 2010 08:56)
Questions? Problems? Suggestions?
Send a mail to addventure@bast-enterprises.de
or use the contact form.
らんま1/2 © Rumiko Takahashi
All other series and their characters are © by their respective creators or owners. No claims of ownership of these characters are implied by the authors of this Addventure, or should be inferred.
The Anime Addventure is a non-profit site.