Indira Gandhi International Airport was one of the busiest terminals in southeast Asia, and as such, their workers had seen the multitude of people around the world. Restaurants, stores, and other retail businesses were open all the time, due to being such a hub.
That included several cooks at one of the higher-end airport restaurants, staring in awe as two men proceeded to demolish a second plate of a dish, that when translated from Hindi, roughly meant ‘burning devil curry’, a dish said to send even the staunchest of men running to wash away the burning.
Of course, had they known the men eating were actually Gods, Gods who had forges in active volcanoes, who considered the dishes ‘barely spicy’, the awe would have been much less. The fact that the Goddess of Love each had married had the cooking skills of Akane Tendo at her worst would probably helped matters along. Luckily, both ladies had only tried cooking once, didn’t like how ‘boring’ it was, and insisted on having lower spirits do it.
Sadly, Vulcan and Hephaestus were among the few of the Roman/Greek conflict to get along with their counterparts.
“I can’t believe we’re stuck here,” grumbled Zeus from the bar, so angry and upset, he hadn’t flirted with a human woman in nearly thirty minutes.
Yes, that was a record for him while on the mortal plane.
“It’s your own fault,” Poseidon muttered, nursing his drink. “You and Jupiter shouldn’t have been staring at each other so hard.”
“So?”
“So, you’re both Gods who use lightning. You fried half the electronics on that plane, and something called an iPod that belonged to the asshole sitting behind me.”
“…”
“There is a reason the Pantheon Accords say we have to wear limiters in the mortal world.”
“I thought that was just so we didn’t have any super-powered spawns running around,” the Greek God muttered under his breath. He missed the chaos the little demigods created.
“Don’t give me that, brother,” Poseidon hissed, leaning towards his sibling. “You know those Accords quite well. It’s why we’re taking the mortal way to Japan instead of crossing the ethereal plane.”
The Pantheon Accords had been hammered out during the early rise of the Judeo religions, setting up territories, spheres of influence, and rules governing travel between them. However, the rule Poseidon was referring to was that major ports of travel were considered neutral ground. Originally, it meant ports for ships, later expanded to airports, that may hold believers from several religions. As long as the Greeks and Romans stayed on the grounds registered as the Indira Gandhi International Airport, they didn’t have to worry about reporting to the local Pantheon—who would be very interested in learning why they were both on their way to Japan, let alone the high-level ones. Moreover, it was hoped that by the time they arrived in Japan, they’d be able to sell the ‘tourist’ angle to the local pantheon.
The fewer Gods who knew about the unattached hero, the better; lest all the Pantheons who signed the Accords would be stampeding to Japan to acquire him for themselves and a chance to regain influence on the mortal realm … aside from some bad fan-fiction and a book series.
“That depends on how quiet Hermes’s jailbait stays,” Zeus muttered. “I still don’t know how she found out about it. You’d think the first we would have heard of it would have been when the Japanese Gods acquired him.”
Poseidon shrugged. Last he heard, the Messenger God had gone with his Roman counterpart to the luggage sorter, something about ‘the Circle’. “Ask him when they fix the plane.
“And next time, don’t get so mad that you fry the plane with an EMP.”
“Whatever,” Zeus waved off. “Now remind me, does the dot on the forehead mean they are available or married?”
“Like either has stopped you before.” He just hoped it stayed quiet. The last thing they needed were more pantheons learning of this.
“Hermes, you always have the best shit,” smirked Mercury, puffing slightly.
Messenger Gods did need something to do since they were rarely needed, but like their other members in their Pantheons, they were often the first ones to try things. They just had a better idea of what was illegal and where you could find it.
It paid a lot to always be able to find the person you wanted.
“Told you,” Hermes smiled. “My girl has the best suppliers!”
Shaking his head slightly, he turned to the locals in The Circle—and no, he would never admit to stealing the idea from a sitcom—noticing one wasn’t a mortal. “Huh?”
The disguised God smirked. “Hey, somewhat my field, fits my profile.”
“Whatever you say, Garu, my man!” Hermes smiled.
“So, what brings you guys to my lands?” the disguised Hindu messenger God inquired, taking a short toke.
Ranma slowly crawled out from under his blanket, still feeling the telltale signs of excessive mana use.
Mana, like life force, existed and flowed within nature, but could also be ‘pooled’ inside a living being. The upside was it meant your body underwent less stress using it from the pools, as best he could figure. Channeling it raw from the environment was tougher, required filtering, processing, giving you less ‘bang for the buck’, but a larger supply should you need it, assuming it didn’t fry your body like too much energy through a power cord.
His pool was large, but what was needed to purify that land, raise those barrels, and safeguard the area was more than even using his incomplete Toueihouseki would have allowed at the time, at least, not without losing a large amount of its stored energy to bleed-out.
Therefore, he had to draw in the surrounding mana.
Moreover, like a hangover, he was definitely feeling it in the morning. His body still ached from processing that much raw mana to pull off the necessary magic.
But he hadn’t exploded. That was good.
“Feel like I went three rounds with that demon again,” he muttered, forcing his stiff muscles to respond and raise him to a standing position.
“We cannot help you with that this time,” Sekhmet replied, stretching out in the encroaching beam of sunlight. “Until the potion is completed and ingested, other magics could create conflict or influence.”
“We could, however, give you quite the massage?” Bastet smirked.
Both her sister and her charge gave her a hooded glare.
“… What?”
“Sister, mana hangover cannot be fixed by simply ‘rubbing it out’,” Sekhmet replied coldly.
“Couldn’t hurt.”
Yawning loudly and rubbing his eyes, he wanted nothing more than to crawl back under the covers and rest until his body didn’t feel like he was made of steel. Part of him wished he had used his gem.
Nevertheless, cleaning up a bit of land wasn’t the type of thing he would use such power for, even if it meant he would avoid the mana hangover. That was saved for End of the World stuff.
At least, it was until he completed the thing. The good news was that as his life force reserves increased, the shed soul energy increased as well, thus cutting the time needed to completion.
Of course, that did little to ease the burning lead feeling. “I just need a good meal and a hot soak.”
“Surrounding yourself in a life-rich environment would help as well,” Sekhmet replied. “The natural energies will sooth your form.
“Though admittedly, it’ll be harder in a city, let alone a house.” Homes nowadays didn’t often let the natural energies into their house, with the exception of the occasional plants. Nor were they surrounded by lush forests, which tended to permeate the ‘dead zone’ inside the dwellings.
Grumbling about bad luck and a sudden desire to have been back on the training journey, Ranma cancelled the locking spell on his door and opened it.
“…”
Ignoring the aroma of several types of blossoming plants, including roses and mums, Ranma stared at dozens of yōsei and fairies floating before his door, smiling at him, flowers and green in their hands.
Looking about the small amount of open space before him, he stuck his head outside. The hallway walls were lined with flowers of all type, separated at levels, making it appear that the wooden walls had been replaced with a living carpet of plants. Among the plants, random members of the small sprites would float about, likely charming the plants to stay, or any number of things he didn’t have the alertness to guess about. The hallway itself seemed to hum with natural mana, making him question how much the Fae actually changed of the house.
“Wow,” murmured Bastet, sticking her head out. “They’ve been busy.”
“Hopefully, no one is allergic to the plants,” murmured Sekhmet, wondering how the household would deal with this.
“…”
Slowly turning about, he looked at the likely fairy who had spoken to him with her crystal-chime voice. “Yeah, I noticed.
“So, I take it you’ve semi-adopted one of the girls here?”
“…”
Ranma nodded slowly. Well, from what he knew of Kasumi; that made sense. However, he would probably have to give the girl a rundown on the Dos and Don’ts of the Fae, lest the eldest Tendo daughter likely become a Fae herself without meaning to.
Sure, he had expected them to take some interest in the girl. Maybe a few fresh flowers, maybe some coins dropping near her.
Turn the house into a living garden? Nope, hadn’t seen that coming.
“…”
“No, you can’t do this to my room,” Ranma stated.
“…”
“Because of potion ingredients, talismans, and other assorted stuff I can’t have mucked up, or might kill the plants, or might turn them into flesh-devouring creatures … again.”
“… …”
“Okay, a few,” he muttered, “but only where Bastet-sama and Sekhmet-sama allow,” he continued.
“Ooo~oh, room makeover!” cheered Bastet.
Ranma’s eye just twitched, being reminded of why he never took Bastet’s suggestion and made a pocket dimension to call home. “Sekhmet-sama…”
“I shall ensure my sister does not over-indulge her desire,” the other cat nodded with a small smile.
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“I seem to recall a news story about a small shack in Kyoto that had a large field and ocean front inside it,” Sekhmet responded.
“Hey, I wanted to visit a warm beach in the winter. Was that wrong?”
“No; but turning it into a neighborhood block party was.”
Exhaling a deep breath in hopes of bleeding off his stress, Ranma grabbed his bathing supplies and headed downstairs. A small part of him was hoping that he could get a few stretches and a workout in before they even noticed he was gone.
Maybe a hot soak as well. It’d be nice not to have sake on his breath and cough up soot so early in the morning.
She felt like a magical princess!
Humming to herself, Kasumi literally danced about the kitchen, wishing she had a song to sing, as the small yōsei helped her go about preparing the family’s morning meal. Birds sat in the window ledge, chirping to her humming.
I wonder if this is how Snow White felt? she asked herself with a smile.
“WHAT THE HELL?”
All sound stopped in the kitchen, even the foods being prepared seemed to fall silent, as one, every living being in the kitchen turned towards the doorway.
“Oh, I don’t think Akane liked the changes you made,” murmured Kasumi. She didn’t know why, though. Her father had yet to say anything about it.
Unbeknownst to her, after dealing with his Master and Sensei, Soun Tendo was pretty good about ignoring strange things.
“Most people can’t handle what the Fae can do,” Ranma stated, walking into the kitchen with a tired smile.
“Oh, good morning,” Kasumi said with a smile. “Sorry, but breakfast isn’t ready yet.”
“Not why I’m here,” he replied, making his way towards the cupboards. “Got any glasses?”
“One to your right,” she replied.
Nodding, Ranma opened, finding the glass he could use, and making his way to the sink for some cold tap water. “Just came to warn you about striking any major deals with the Fae.”
“Oh, they promised to be on their best behavior,” Kasumi replied.
“… They turned your house into a living flowerbed,” he replied.
“Well, that might be my fault. They asked me what types of flowers I liked, and I ended up telling a story about how I used to always visit a local flower boutique before it closed, seeing the walls of flowers they had.”
Yep, seems like the type of mistake the Fae could make, he internally grumbled. Sometimes, they could twist your words around and other times, they took it quite literally. “They aren’t planning anything else, are they?” he asked.
“Well, they offered to have some glowing plants on the ceiling, but I felt that might be asking for too much.”
“Those plants never shut off,” he offered, “so that would probably be a bad idea.”
“Thank you,” Kasumi replied.
“Are you okay?” she asked, noticing how stiffly he moved.
“Just a little worn down from last night,” he waved off. “Should be fine once I work out some kinks.”
“BOY!” he heard his father yell, likely having got up just a bit ago, smelling the food cooking. “GET DOWN HERE FOR OUR—WHAT THE HELL? NOT AGAIN!”
“Pops never dealt well with magical races,” Ranma commented.
“You’re slow, Boy!” Genma jeered, launching a series of strikes and finding Ranma could hardly block half of them.
“Worn out from last night,” Ranma commented, twisting about to try to catch his father with a kick, cursing as it was easily blocked.
“This wouldn’t happen if you’d give up this ‘learning magic’ nonsense and focus entirely on being the heir to Saotome Anything Goes!”
As if I hadn’t heard that before, he thought. Ever since the Book had come into his life, his father was always complaining about it—unless he thought of some hare-brained scheme for a quick couple of yen—and lately, a cure for their curses.
Still, he shuddered at the mere thought of what he could have ended up like, with only his father for company for ten years.
“Oh, how could I have such a weak, dishonorable son, who ignores his family legacy and the dreams and hopes of his great father!?”
“Keep it up, Old Man, and I’ll forget about my promise not to use magic in our spar…”
“You wouldn’t.”
“I don’t know… I am a weak, dishonorable son, after all,” Ranma smirked.
“School?” asked Ranma, as the two families sat down for breakfast, only the males and Kasumi seemed undisturbed by the recent change in the Tendo home. Akane was still looking at things, expecting something to jump out at her. Nabiki was giving everything a calculating eye, as if trying to appraise the value of the new walls.
“Of course,” Genma said, giving a nervous glare at the two cats sitting between him and his son. “Can’t forget a solid education, can you?”
Truthfully, he’d rather, not seeing any real need for it since the Boy would eventually settle down with one of Tendo’s daughters and run the Dojo, supporting the fathers. But Soun had had a point about it giving Ranma more time to spend with at least two of Soun’s daughters, thus getting the boy to pick sooner.
“It is the same school my darling girls attend,” Soun said with a smile. Yep, nothing could possibly go wrong with this plan.
Ranma—feeling now less like a battered corpse and more like death warmed over thanks to a workout, hot non-Goddess-involved bath, and a good meal—nodded his head. School was always a good way to spend time—if you didn’t count the looks some of the people gave him for magic use. Hell, he’d hate to see how some would react to his curse.
“Akane can show you the way,” Nabiki said quickly, finishing off her morning coffee and quickly checking to ensure the film was still on her.
“Hey! Why do I have to show him?” Akane asked. “We can all go together; I mean, just give me a few minutes to finish eating.”
“Sorry, sis; got some stuff to do at school!” Nabiki chirped, visions of yen dancing in her head at what those pictures she had taken last night could be worth. Well, that and the possibility of turning her home into the new local florist shop. She’d spent ten minutes trying to pull off the roses from the wall across from her doorway, only to see them grow back.
And the prices one could charge for bouquets of that quality…
Shaking her head, she darted out the door. She had a few people she could trust to develop the film and not sell them behind her back—not unless they wanted certain facts made aware to certain people. By the end of third period, she’d have her photos and then she could start making some calls.
Ranma just ignored it, finishing his meal, concentrating on allowing his body to naturally heal the hangover, having more important things on his mind. He never liked being injured or down, especially given some of his encounters in the past.
Oddly, like most humans, magical beings and demons didn’t want to wait for you to feel better before taking you on.
“Well, come on,” grumbled Akane, not liking the potential fiancé being fostered off onto her.
As Ranma stood up, his two cats moved to follow beside him.
That was of course, until they found their way blocked by several yōsei.
“I’m sorry, little ones,” Kasumi said from behind them, her shadow looming over them. “But you can’t follow Ranma to school. They don’t allow pets to attend.”
Slowly, the two avatars turned, looking up at the eldest Tendo, preparing to give her The Sad Eyes attack, an attack that had gotten them past several school monitors, office workers, and even police officers.
That options fell away and was replaced by fear as they saw yōsei on either side of her, holding small outfits, outfits that looked to be the size of…
“With their help, I had enough free time this morning to knit these for you,” Kasumi gushed, as the yōsei nodded, holding two cat-sized robes with sakura-blossom images on them.
The sound of the front door shutting let them know … their charge would not assist them in avoiding being dressed up.
I blame you for this, Sister.
Hey, I didn’t hear you complaining when I created those robes last night!
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(Posted Tue, 04 May 2010 02:46)
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