AU Ficclet and OOC Relationship Meme
SO, along with this little ficclet, here goes my meme. Post, and Ranma will answer what he thinks of your characters not Ami because christ I'm still working on that. Or, y'know, you could request drabble? Take care, because I fail at 100-word limits, as is obvious also, this little ficclet's all over the place because it's late and I fail. So...fire away? :3
So there was pie on the floor. Not whole, freshly-baked ones. Those usually went into on a table or a window ledge.
No, these were bits and pieces, unsuitable for proper ingestion. All strawberry, which was a shame. Because he really did like strawberry pie.
Not that he would have eaten it. It wouldn't have been right, he thought.
So there he came, into a sterile room, messing it up with his bits and pieces of crust and strawberry filling. And, for the moment, not caring. He was too busy thinking other things over.
For one, the girl in front of him. He knew her, but didn't recognize her. But he knew her, right before she went to sleep. She was a cheerful girl who would try to stab him when she was angry at him. And didn't listen to him when he had decent points. And trusted him--or was learning to, when it came to certain situations.
Like saving her from being hurt.
Which he failed to do, hence her comatose state not noticing Ranma messing up the nice, clean floor.
Without much sound, other than the occasional drip and noisy plop of more filling meeting the linoleum, Ranma Saotome took a seat beside the Aya-formerly-known-as Tot. Or Nanami, to those she trusted--
"Damnit. Y'weren't supposed t'get hurt, idiot."
It was a reflexive action. The only way he knew how to initially deal with things. Snap at what hurts you, what catches you off-guard. It would usually give him time enough to maybe assess what to do about the obstruction. Only, it was hard to do that with a object that didn't even make a good sounding board.
"... I'm sorry, Tot. I should've been around t'help." He fiddled with his pigtail, ignorant or not caring of the sticky film around his fingers. "I should've been there t'make sure you wouldn't get taken by suck a stupid move."
The beeping of the heart monitor agreed with him.
"I mean--yeah, it's kinda your fault, too. S'not like the sword training wouldn't have helped ya. You already use a fencin' style, for god's sake. But then those stupid chickens came around, an I got sidetracked."
He let out a breath and eyed the other chair opposite Tot's bed, and the fast-slumbering blond in it. He barely knew the boy, not even her connection to Tot. Somehow, though, his presence galled Ranma. Who was this guy? Why was he around? Why did he show more consideration for Tot than Ranma himself?
... Why was he even bothering to be jealous?
"It's Ken's fault, too," he spoke again, deciding he didn't want to think about it. "What kinda fighter doesn't have a hold on his own damned temper? The match was no weapons--th'hell was he thinkin'?"
This...this whole place perplexed him, now that he thought about it. The environment aside, the people were, as usual, much more crafty and dangerous. For every defunct, ludicrous object that came out of the camp, there were two or more campers who easily trumped it. The sleeping girl, included.
"... Y'know, this's gotta be first time I've been completely useless." It vaguely surprised him, how easy those words came. But, all things considered, he was a prodigy martial artists, capable of assimilating and analyzing a great deal of data for training and fighting. So of course that his brain had given the stated problem in a moment of contemplation was not a fierce, shaking revelation.
At least, in Nerima, he had better control. He could counter the old pervert, five days out of seven. He could head off the Amazon's plans for him, if they didn't get swallowed wholesale by his other jealous fiancees. Ryouga and Mousse, Kuno, and the other errant challenges were annoying, and frustrating, but never really overwhelming.
But high sorcery? People walking around with advanced technology? Spooky, high-powered ghost kami that cared more about cutting people up than training? Magic Girls? It was enough to make him realize he was out of water.
Furthermore....
"... I never really told 'ya bout 'em, did I?" Ranma mused. "I mean, the Tendo's yeah. And my Pops--but that's a sore subject with you...."
Very sore, for very good reason. It was amazing that, as open-book as he could be, he knew more of her than she did him. He wondered why that was.
He wondered why it annoyed him.
"If I considered m'self any kinda friend, I'd probably warn ya, too. 'Bout Shampoo, an Kodachi. An th'freak. Especially since this place has a habit of shipping folks against their will. I mean, hell, I was FedEx'd here. An' Ryouga got lost. Shouldn't take ol'man Tendo and Pops too long t'send--"
That was probably why, his inner-self admonished. Besides Ukyou, the okonomiyaki chef, Tot was the first real girl friend he'd had. There was supposed to be one more, but...well....
"I'm Akane Tendo. Wanna be friends?"
"There's no way in the world I could ever marry someone like that!"
"... She'd jump t'conclusions about ya," he admitted with a sigh. "Akane's pretty dense about that kinda stuff. Uncute in th'worst way.
"An, really, that ain't somethin' you deserve. Got enough problems t'deal with." Idly, he started to wonder just why he leaped and bent so much for Tot. Friendship was one thing, but--
It started as simple as it could; she claimed the asshole that killed her adopted dad was around, he swore to help her find him. She said she wanted to become stronger, and he helped her.
Or tried to. Francecsu's words still echoed clear in his head about how successful he'd been. His shirt, his eye, and the not-so-clean hospital floor said how well he'd done by keeping his word on Ken, the other half of the blame for her impromptu bedrest.
Overwhelmed, the problem stated, shiny and prominent in his head as ever.
Ranma frowned, and fiddled with the sheets by Tot's hand. "Look, I'm gonna make this up to ya, all right? No more playin around. The Art is somethin' I know, and no backward-ass camp's gonna take that from me, now matter how powerful these bozos are.
"But you gotta do yer part, too. Y'said you were strong, so just hang tough. I guarantee you'll kick his ass, next time."
It was a start. With pie mostly-dried on him, Ranma stood up and went to find Simon. The kid would have an update on her, and whether he needed to do a fetch quest for whatever herbs or magic whammy would shake Tot out of her beauty sleep. And then he'd force her to train--even if it pissed her off. And he'd tell her about Akane, and how being uncute didn't suit Tot as much.
Because, of course, that's what friends were for. To help solve problems.
So there was pie on the floor. Not whole, freshly-baked ones. Those usually went into on a table or a window ledge.
No, these were bits and pieces, unsuitable for proper ingestion. All strawberry, which was a shame. Because he really did like strawberry pie.
Not that he would have eaten it. It wouldn't have been right, he thought.
So there he came, into a sterile room, messing it up with his bits and pieces of crust and strawberry filling. And, for the moment, not caring. He was too busy thinking other things over.
For one, the girl in front of him. He knew her, but didn't recognize her. But he knew her, right before she went to sleep. She was a cheerful girl who would try to stab him when she was angry at him. And didn't listen to him when he had decent points. And trusted him--or was learning to, when it came to certain situations.
Like saving her from being hurt.
Which he failed to do, hence her comatose state not noticing Ranma messing up the nice, clean floor.
Without much sound, other than the occasional drip and noisy plop of more filling meeting the linoleum, Ranma Saotome took a seat beside the Aya-formerly-known-as Tot. Or Nanami, to those she trusted--
"Damnit. Y'weren't supposed t'get hurt, idiot."
It was a reflexive action. The only way he knew how to initially deal with things. Snap at what hurts you, what catches you off-guard. It would usually give him time enough to maybe assess what to do about the obstruction. Only, it was hard to do that with a object that didn't even make a good sounding board.
"... I'm sorry, Tot. I should've been around t'help." He fiddled with his pigtail, ignorant or not caring of the sticky film around his fingers. "I should've been there t'make sure you wouldn't get taken by suck a stupid move."
The beeping of the heart monitor agreed with him.
"I mean--yeah, it's kinda your fault, too. S'not like the sword training wouldn't have helped ya. You already use a fencin' style, for god's sake. But then those stupid chickens came around, an I got sidetracked."
He let out a breath and eyed the other chair opposite Tot's bed, and the fast-slumbering blond in it. He barely knew the boy, not even her connection to Tot. Somehow, though, his presence galled Ranma. Who was this guy? Why was he around? Why did he show more consideration for Tot than Ranma himself?
... Why was he even bothering to be jealous?
"It's Ken's fault, too," he spoke again, deciding he didn't want to think about it. "What kinda fighter doesn't have a hold on his own damned temper? The match was no weapons--th'hell was he thinkin'?"
This...this whole place perplexed him, now that he thought about it. The environment aside, the people were, as usual, much more crafty and dangerous. For every defunct, ludicrous object that came out of the camp, there were two or more campers who easily trumped it. The sleeping girl, included.
"... Y'know, this's gotta be first time I've been completely useless." It vaguely surprised him, how easy those words came. But, all things considered, he was a prodigy martial artists, capable of assimilating and analyzing a great deal of data for training and fighting. So of course that his brain had given the stated problem in a moment of contemplation was not a fierce, shaking revelation.
At least, in Nerima, he had better control. He could counter the old pervert, five days out of seven. He could head off the Amazon's plans for him, if they didn't get swallowed wholesale by his other jealous fiancees. Ryouga and Mousse, Kuno, and the other errant challenges were annoying, and frustrating, but never really overwhelming.
But high sorcery? People walking around with advanced technology? Spooky, high-powered ghost kami that cared more about cutting people up than training? Magic Girls? It was enough to make him realize he was out of water.
Furthermore....
"... I never really told 'ya bout 'em, did I?" Ranma mused. "I mean, the Tendo's yeah. And my Pops--but that's a sore subject with you...."
Very sore, for very good reason. It was amazing that, as open-book as he could be, he knew more of her than she did him. He wondered why that was.
He wondered why it annoyed him.
"If I considered m'self any kinda friend, I'd probably warn ya, too. 'Bout Shampoo, an Kodachi. An th'freak. Especially since this place has a habit of shipping folks against their will. I mean, hell, I was FedEx'd here. An' Ryouga got lost. Shouldn't take ol'man Tendo and Pops too long t'send--"
That was probably why, his inner-self admonished. Besides Ukyou, the okonomiyaki chef, Tot was the first real girl friend he'd had. There was supposed to be one more, but...well....
"I'm Akane Tendo. Wanna be friends?"
"There's no way in the world I could ever marry someone like that!"
"... She'd jump t'conclusions about ya," he admitted with a sigh. "Akane's pretty dense about that kinda stuff. Uncute in th'worst way.
"An, really, that ain't somethin' you deserve. Got enough problems t'deal with." Idly, he started to wonder just why he leaped and bent so much for Tot. Friendship was one thing, but--
It started as simple as it could; she claimed the asshole that killed her adopted dad was around, he swore to help her find him. She said she wanted to become stronger, and he helped her.
Or tried to. Francecsu's words still echoed clear in his head about how successful he'd been. His shirt, his eye, and the not-so-clean hospital floor said how well he'd done by keeping his word on Ken, the other half of the blame for her impromptu bedrest.
Overwhelmed, the problem stated, shiny and prominent in his head as ever.
Ranma frowned, and fiddled with the sheets by Tot's hand. "Look, I'm gonna make this up to ya, all right? No more playin around. The Art is somethin' I know, and no backward-ass camp's gonna take that from me, now matter how powerful these bozos are.
"But you gotta do yer part, too. Y'said you were strong, so just hang tough. I guarantee you'll kick his ass, next time."
It was a start. With pie mostly-dried on him, Ranma stood up and went to find Simon. The kid would have an update on her, and whether he needed to do a fetch quest for whatever herbs or magic whammy would shake Tot out of her beauty sleep. And then he'd force her to train--even if it pissed her off. And he'd tell her about Akane, and how being uncute didn't suit Tot as much.
Because, of course, that's what friends were for. To help solve problems.