[Episode 96261] [Episode 96261]In the town of Quagmire, in a normal bed, in a normal room, of a normal house, lay a figure about as far from normal as you can get without something obvious, like growing extra limbs, or tentacles, or wings, or- well, you get the idea, he was pretty freakin' bizzare.
Jeremy "Wild Horse" Feeple opened his eyes.
"Familiar ceiling" he murmered, smiling slightly. "Oh, wait, that's Evangelion." He stated, his smile widening. "Glad I didn't pick THAT world."
Sitting up, stretching his arms above his head, rotating his shoulders, and twisting his torso, he loosened up his upper body slightly, then cast his covers aside, and got out of bed.
Noticing his reflection in his bedroom mirror, he stopped to examine himself briefly. Not too different from Jeremy the Original, he mused, just a little more confidence in the eyes, and-
He narrowed his eyes. Yes, a touch more muscle definition was just starting to show. Well, it was about time! He had found that binding his powers to his soul had had some unexpected effects. For example, he had found that, while he remained as fast, tough, and strong as Ranma Saotome had been, his body had just refused to show it. He had finally figured out that since his powers were now spiritual in nature, he wasn't really using his body at all, and thus it wasn't getting any stronger. At first, he had tried to increase the difficulty until his spirit was strained to the point that his body had to take up some of the load, but all he had accomplished was to strengthen his spirit even more. Finally, after years of trying different meditation styles, he had found a way to limit the amount of power he drew from his spirit to exactly the amount he wants at any given time. Not that he had anything against strengthing his spirit, he just wanted to look like what he was. A martial artist.
Now grinning at his changes, he turned away from his reflection, and began dressing. As he put his clothes on, he pondered on how different his life was now. From a life of abuse, angr, and lonelyness, pushed, pulled, and shoved this way and that by obligations that often contradicted each other, to a life in which his only obligation was to do his best, with a loving parent who was proud of him, not for being a kick ass fighter, or for following some rediculus standard of manliness, but just for being her son. He had a little brother that he adored, and who adored him right back. He even had friends! Oh sure, Steamhead and Arnie were kind of weird, but they were always there for him, which was more than he could say about anyone in his previous life, and anyway, compared to some of the nutcases he used to know, they were positivly ordinary!
Walking down the stairs, he
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(Posted Fri, 19 Mar 2004 07:38)
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らんま1/2 © Rumiko Takahashi
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