Hell
is a Martial Artist
Chapter II
By Ozzallos
Blue eyes blinked open, attempting to unsuccessfully bring the world back into focus for their owners, one Ranma Saotome, heir of the Anything Goes School of Martial Arts. It took a few seconds and another round of blinking, but her vision finally cleared, causing the redhead to frown. Apparently her world consisted of ceiling tiles. Fancy ceiling tiles, as a matter of fact, intricately carved into fine detail. Some had people dancing across them, others had forests and animals. All in all, she decided somebody had either too much time or money on their hands, and opted to sit up instead of studying them further. Ranma's head swam with the motion but she shook it off while taking in her surroundings. Looks like an office, she noted, spying various bookshelves, painting and binders. Soft lighting gently illuminated the ivory walls, but her attention was ultimately drawn to the rich oaken desk sitting in front of a huge picture window and the women stationed behind it.
The white haired woman from before.
Was that a star on her forehead?
She continued working as Ranma studied her, watching as purple eyes shifted across a paper in one hand while the other was busy typing at… A computer? The computers Ranma knew were bulky pieces of hardware, but this… The entire screen was not only two dimensional, but nearly transparent. In fact, it floated free of any support whatsoever. The keyboard which she was typing at was likewise transparent. High tech wasn't the word, Ranma decided, reluctantly turning her attention back to her host. The woman set aside the paper she had been engrossed in, and moved to pick up another when those purple eyes paused and locked onto Ranma's own. A playful smile formed on her lips.
"Ah, so you're finally awake, Red."
"Uh…" It was the best Ranma could manage at the moment, as she was in a room somewhere with a woman she didn't even know. An attractive woman no less, which was immediate grounds for a malleting in Akane's book. That thought out of the way, her brain managed to trickle a thought to his mouth as she shuffled upright. "Eh, sorry about buttin' in on your fight."
The smile widened. "Oh, don't worry about that. She had it coming."
"She did?" Ranma blinked and the woman pushed away from the desk, standing to her full height of what the martial artist estimated to be almost 170 or so odd centimeters, clearing her diminutive 142 by a large margin. The woman stepped around the desk, and her full form was revealed. Unlike before, she was business casual at the moment, with the emphasis being on 'casual'. Very causal, and Ranma thanked God that she had built up a healthy immunity to feminine beauty, as the high cut black skirt and open business jacket held in check only by a golden chain did absolutely nothing to hide her tanned figure. Ryoga would have surly bled a lung through his nose in the same position.
"Daughter of mine needed a lesson in humility." She stated offhand, setting the paper she had been studying. "If you hadn't have done it, I would have." She paused and the smile warmed. "And a fine job you did too."
Ranma scratched the back of her head sheepishly at the praise. "Uh, thanks. She was-- Wait," The woman's words caught up to her. "You said daughter?"
Hild chuckled at the redhead's sudden apprehension. "Don't worry about it. She just didn't appreciate my sense of humor."
"Three to one odds is a pretty piss poor way of showing it." Ranma commented, momentarily forgetting her mouth. Sure, there were times when she was pissed at her old man, but she'd never think to call in Ryoga and Mousse to help settle-- the she realized the bluntness of her statement mid thought. "Uh… that is to say…"
"Ha!" The white haired woman grinned, and stepped up to the redhead. This one was endlessly amusing. She offered her a hand. "My name is Hild. And you are?"
The martial artist stood up, absently noticing that her blue and black silks were no longer a ragged mess. In fact, they looked better than the day she bought them. When did that…? "Oh, Ranma Saotome."
"A pleasure." She returned, retrieving her hand. "I must say, I was quite impressed with your performance. Fighting Urd to a draw is no easy feat for one such as yourself."
"She's sloppy." Ranma shrugged, having long since decided where the woman stood in her world of martial arts. "But powerful. Don't know what I woulda done if the Hiryu Shoten Ha came up empty."
"That daughter of mine does tend to get worked up easily." The business woman sighed somewhat dismayed. "Tough enough to get on her good side normally, let alone when she's like that."
It was something the Saotome could easily sympathize with. "Wouldn't be treatin' you like that if you were my Mom. Got enough problems with mine as it is without fightin' over petty crap."
Hild's interest was piqued. "Oh?"
"Oh." Ranma replied through her brooding, but left it at that. What was she going to tell the woman, after all? That she had been replaced by a martial artist claiming her name and school, fooling her mother who demanded that she be a man among men or her head, which ever came first? 'Hi mom, I'm cursed to become a girl!' Hild seemed nice enough, the martial artist decided. No need to load her down with the insanity of her daily life. "Me and her got things to work out, that all."
Hild nodded, noting the emphasis on the word 'things'. Big things by the sound of it. "And what do you make of me?"
The question took Ranma by surprise for a moment before she focused on the woman before her, scrutinizing every detail both visible and invisible. From that same martial arts standpoint, she didn't like what she found. "Damn powerful, and it ain't ki you're carryin' around. Something heavier."
There was also the unspoken. This Hild was older than she appeared, without a doubt. Especially if she was the other's very mother. Her gaze carried the same weight as the old ghoul, but held a potency even the Elder lacked. Combined with the power she was feeling, there was little doubt in Ranma's mind that a confrontation with the woman would end badly for her. It also helped keep her mind on the person and not her looks.
Fortunately, it didn't appear to be something she had to worry about as Hild seemed to be pleasant company regardless. She seemed satisfied with the answer and moved back to the desk, keying the insubstantial computer. "Mara, my guest is awake."
Seconds later, Ranma watched the hand carved double doors to her office open and a blonde saunter in, silver tray in hand and with fruits, crackers and a fine porcelain kettle of tea. The black leather skirt she wore shifted with her every move as she unfolded the stand in her other hand before the two and set the silver atop, eyeing her with thinly veiled suspicion.
"This is Mara, one of my better field agents." The distraction was enough for said field agent to lose sight of the drop zone, angling the tray just enough to let the tea tumble on the redhead, promptly causing her to shift genders. Any apology that came to Mara's mind was immediately supplanted by shock, as the now black hair boy frowned at the multitude of splotches on his shirt. Hild barely missed a beat. "What she lacks in subtly and grace, she more than makes up for tenacity." She paused momentarily, taking in Ranma's new form. "So which one were you born with?"
It was Ranma's turn to blink now. The change hardly even fazed the woman and now she was talking about it as it were an everyday occurrence. "Uh, this one. Cursed to become a girl with cold water."
Hild nodded as if it were a given, then smiled. "I'd hardly call that a curse, young one." She chuckled slightly, then turned back to Mara with a frown. "More tea."
The demoness nodded crisply, tearing her eyes away from the aquatransexual teen. "Uh, of course, Hild-sama."
"But seriously." The tanned woman continued, sitting down beside Ranma and retrieving a cracker, stacking a thin slice of white cheese atop it. "Why would you ever consider that a curse?"
The course of the conversation and her apparent sincerity had taken the pigtailed boy so much by surprise that his natural guard crashed. "Eh, the water part mostly," he admitted. "There ain't no end to the trouble it causes me. Then there's my parents. Pop's keeps harpin' on women bein' weak while my Mom'll probably chop my head off if she finds out that her manly son turns into a girl."
"Chop your head off?" The Daimakaichō arched an eyebrow. "And Urd thinks I'm a bad mother."
"Ya ain't no bad mom far as I can tell." Ranma stated, snagging a cookie from across the snack tray, but missed the new sparkle in Hild's eyes. "Besides, most of it's my Pop's fault anyway." The martial artist shrugged, leaving the rest unsaid before changing the subject. "So what do ya do around her anyway? Looks like a law office or something."
The Mistress of hell chuckled. Couldn't drop the bomb quite yet, but… "Of sorts. I run a very large corporation."
"Must be pretty damn good at it." He commented. While he wasn't exactly schooled in the customs of corporate Japan, Ranma did know you had to be doing pretty well to get an office this size with a view like the one behind her desk. Though what a deceptively young magical girl bubbling with power was doing playing lawyer was well and beyond him.
"The best." Hild beamed and Ranma did likewise, very familiar with sentiment, if not the profession.
Mara took that moment to return with a new kettle of tea, taking care this time to pour the steaming liquid into ordinate china and not on Hild's guest. The Demoness took hers and poised it at her lips.
"So tell me more about this curse…?"
An hour later saw Hild's office empty, the pair having parted in good humor while Mara was somewhat surprised that her boss had let the boy-girl depart not only in good health, but his soul intact. Now the blonde stood before the Daimakaichō, who was humming slightly to herself, which was an oddity to be sure. The Mistress of Demons appeared to be studying a parchment intently, and Mara knew exactly what parchments of those sorts represented.
"Is that the boy's contract?"
Hild stared at it a moment longer before turning her attention to Mara. "It is indeed."
"I saw the footage." The blonde stated after news of the battle circulated around Nifelheim. "He'd make an excellent field agent."
"She would at that." Her boss agreed absently, studying the contract further. Mara nearly missed the gender pronoun Hild had used, filing the oddity away for later scrutiny.
"So you want me to serve him then?" Mara was certain that she could have the contract signed and back on her desk within the hour. Nice kid, but the naivety just rolled off him in waves.
Hild smiled enigmatically. "No, I think not." With that statement, the blonde was surprised as the parchment burst into flames between her Master's very fingers, consuming it entirely in under a second. She just destroyed the kids'…?
"I like her." She commented. "When Ranma comes back, be sure not to screw with her and make her feel at home."
"Comes back…?" Mara's mouthed, her eyes now rapidly blinking. If the situation wasn't already weird enough, the cake was being taken even as she spoke.
"Gave her a key." Hild waved aside the inconsequential detail and picked up the next piece of paper to in a large stack dominating her desk. "Now about that Misaki case…"
The shift in her great leader's focus did nothing for the twitch pulling at Mara's cheek. Hild had evidentially given the kid a key to hell, redeemable any time.
Ranma fingered the scroll in her hands, rolling it from one digit to the other as he sat on the roof of the Tendo Dojo. "I will now defeat you and seal the Yama Sen Ken!" He pantomimed to himself sarcastically. So if that was actually the case, what was he still doing with it?
The original plan had been to defeat Kumon Ryu, liberate the Umi Sen Ken's sister school and seal the technique away because of the danger it posed. The first objective in that mission had been accomplished, though the method by which he had done so had been a tad excessive. At first, he had been willing to just put Kumon down, take his ball and go home. But Hild…
That white haired woman had another take on the situation entirely.
Ranma originally planned on teaching Kumon a lesson. Hild advocated the same lesson, but emphasized with a capital 'L'. In fact, her version of a lesson was spelled out in upper-case, bold and underlined for effect.
And the weird thing about it was the woman made sense.
"So what are you going to do about this whatshisname?" Hild asked as she took a sip of tea. Every movement she made seemed to translate into the barely-there business suit she wore and Ranma struggled not to notice. Besides, it wasn't anything he hadn't seen before… Just never so…
Ranma shook himself mentally, forcing his brain onto the new topic. "Jeez, I dunno. Beat him and seal the Yamasen-ken, I guess."
The woman sounded somewhat put out. "That's it?"
"Uh, yeah?"
"Ranma, he's impersonating you and using your curse against you to hold your mother hostage." Hild explained patiently. "He needs to be taught a lesson. A violent, painful lesson."
"I'm not so sure..."
"No buts." She admonished now. "If you don't make your intentions loud and clear to this fool, he may very well try something similar in the future."
Ranma considered the white haired magical girl for a moment. He hadn't quite looked at it that way before and it was obvious that talking was a lost cause. In fact, the situation smacked of Ryoga, now that she mentioned it. Damn, the Saotome mused. Last thing I need are two Ryogas blaming me for every wrong under the sun…At least the first one wasn't trying to steal his identity or mother.
"Okay, I think I see what your sayin'." Ranma admitted, eliciting a satisfied smile from the beautiful lawyer. "'Cides, he needs a lesson in honor."
"Definitely." Hild nodded, secretly pleased as she set her tea aside. The kid had been through an amazing amount of hell without her influence on his life and was still surprisingly sane, if horribly naïve. Still, he appeared at very least teachable and was a breath of fresh air in her routine. "That aside, let's hear about this 'curse' of yours."
Ranma Saotome shrugged and reached for a nearby glass of water.
Her argument toward that end was a simple, yet highly compelling one, and God help him, he took the advice of a magical girl of all people and buried the bastard.
Literally.
A giant mass of super dense inverted ki might have been overkill, but it had done the job. By the time they had dug Kumon out, the guy was sufficiently cowed not to try anything stupid either in that moment or the future. Ranma's name was once again his own, which unfortunately helped little as to his current dilemma—The Umi Sen Ken and Yama Sen Ken. In part or as a whole, it was an incredibly lethal school, which in turn caused the martial artist to wonder just what had prompted his father to develop it. Akane had taken the thief aspect at face value, but there were just too many inconstancies to ignore. She hadn't even bothered in asking just why a petty thief would need to dispense massive bomb of inverted ki… or why one would need a technique that could cut through stone in a 360' arc just to break into a house.
So what did one do with a highly lethal, incredibly destructive school of martial arts? His own father had urged him to seal it, as had Mister Tendo. Even Akane had looked sufficiently shocked by the display of power and he himself had proclaimed its sealing aloud. But now the advice of a magical girl rang clearly in his ears…
"What's wrong with you keeping it for yourself?" She had asked through the course of their conversation a day earlier. "Besides, it's just another tool. Another tool to use if the other tools don't work."
And try as he might, he couldn't fault the woman's simplistic logic. It wasn't as if he was going to run around and use it to break into people's houses or steal people's fiancées with it. He was a martial artist. He had a code of honor. Unlike some people he knew. Sealing away a valuable and incredibly potent martial arts school not only seemed redundant in that the light of Hild's advice, but seemed downright silly. Of course it was dangerous. But then, so was conjuring elemental tornadoes and dispensing spheres of hard ki. Even slightest pressure to the right part of the body could drop a man in seconds, let alone a martial arts weapon of mass destruction.
"Ranma!" His introspection broken by the use of his name, Ranma leaned over the roofs edge and—
Sploosh!
An empty glass bounced off the now female martial artist's forehead, leaving the girl sputtering out the cold water she had all but inhaled. Below her was Akane, recovering from the throw, but turning away suddenly as if nothing had happened. "Whaddya do that for, tomb—Auntie!"
The middle aged dark redhead rounded the corner, her lips curling into a warm smile upon sight of Akane, then a curious look when she found Ranma peeking over the roofs ledge. "Now, Ranko, you should know it's not safe for young girls such as yourself to play on the roof."
Ranma blinked. "Eh, sorry Auntie!"
Nodoka nodded with the apology, as if it were a given. "Now come down here this instant and give your Aunt Nodoka a hug." The younger redhead bobbed once and the girl flipped off the edge, landing neatly before Nodoka in a bow before she was gathered into a hug by the mother. "And you, Akane."
Uncertainty flashed briefly across the girl's face before quickly melting into a smile and stepping into the group hug. It lasted another moment before she released the pair. "Now, have either of you seen my manly son or his father?"
The question might as well have been a martial art kick to the gut and Ranma's spirit withered in that instant. Not that she was that manly man at the moment, oh no. The best she could do was shake her head meekly. Could always try my luck with the sword, Ranma grumbled internally. Akane produced a similar, though slightly more energetic shake of her head, eliciting a disappointed frown from Nodoka.
"And I was so hoping to catch them after that unfortunate misunderstanding with that nice Ryu boy."
Ranma winced with the comment and any guilt over going too hard on the imposter evaporated in that instant. Nice boy?! The edge of her manufactured smile twitched as it threatened to buckle outright. He was an honorless bastard! He held YOU hostage to get to me! He--
"I do so hope my son is as manly." Nodoka smiled fondly, then looked down at the redhead who had all but frozen. She patted Ranma's head gently. "Ranma may be taken by your cousin, but that Ryu boy seems perfect for you."
Ranma dug into the Amazon soul of ice technique. Hard. After being compared to an honorless bastard and enduring the suggestion to marry him, facing the family blade was looking like an increasingly attractive option at the moment. It was all she could do not to crack. "Eh… Thanks Auntie!" She chirped with an enthusiasm that would have blotted out the sun if it weren't so artificial. Her eyes widened suddenly. "Oh! What time is it?! Mister Panda must be hungry! Got to go!"
Both the Saotome matriarch and Tendo sister stared after the girl as she quickly disengaged herself and bounced away, disappearing around the nearby corner. Nodoka held her puzzled countenance a second longer before, looking to Akane with a warm smile. "Don't worry, Akane-chan. We'll find a way around that tomboyish exterior of your cousin's yet."
Akane simply smiled weakly, opting to accompany Nodoka on what was, at the moment, a fruitless search for her manly son.
"What was your mother like?"
Akane Tendo blinked. It was the most unlikely question she would have expected from the martial artist before her, who had paused in his kata to ask the question. While it wasn't entirely unexpected, especially given the events over the last week, her part-time fiancée was hardly one for such public introspection. In some ways, she was actually flattered that Ranma was even asking. In others, the question disturbed memories that were better off left to rest in peace.
The youngest Tendo considered the matter a moment before replying softly, lowering herself to the dojo floor. "Honestly, I was pretty young. She was nice… I remember her playing with me… Picking me up from elementary school." Akane's counterance saddened slightly. "Mostly I remember the hospital."
Ranma dropped to the floor directly in front of the girl, absorbing the experiences intently as she continued. "But there were the fun times too. Picnics. Class projects. Helping out around the house." Akane cocked her head, all but staring through the pigtailed boy sitting before her now. "That was back when Daddy was still teaching."
"Do you miss her?" Ranma asked softly, prompting Akane to study him intently. Had seeing his mother come and go yet again really hit him so hard?
"Occasionally." Akane smiled slightly. "My sisters had it worse though. They were older at the time. But still… At least you have yours."
The rapt attention she had been receiving throughout their stroll down memory lane suddenly darkened, Ranma's rapt curiosity melting into a frown. "I don't have a mother."
Akane blinked as what had started out as an attempted to remind Ranma of what he had began to unravel as quickly as she had pushed it forward. "But Auntie Nodoka---"
"Yeah, Auntie Nodoka is right." Ranma's returned bitterly as his mood continued to fall off. "My mom thinks I'm your cousin, 'kane."
"But at least—"
"That she's alive?" Ranma cut in rhetorically. "Yeah, I guess. But I don't know her. I don't even remember her as a kid, let alone with my old man cartin' me around half the world. Now here we are and the only way I can even get close to her is as 'cousin Ranko'." Akane sat speechless for a moment, considering the unspoken point. Which was actually worse? Fond memories of a mother lost or watching her live at arm's length? Ranma continued after a moment of heavy silence, validating the supposition.
"I mean, you've seen the way she looks at me. I'm her pet project. A tomboy in need of her feminine guidance." The martial artist shook his head. "She don't know me and don't see me… And if she did, there's a katana waiting for my neck when she finds out just how manly her son is."
Akane sat in silence. Part of her wanted to rebuke the boy before her outright. He should be thankful his mother was still alive, not gone to an incurable illness. Then there was the part that silently sympathized with her fiancé. Alive or not, it had to be some kind of torture to be so close to the person called mother, yet never be able to interact with her as a son. Throw in a curse and an accompanying death sentence and even she could see why Ranma was brooding. At least I have closure, Akane thought to herself. He doesn't even have that.
In an uncharacteristic move, Akane leaned forward and cupped Ranma's hands with her own. The boy looked up from the straw tatami with slight surprise, noting the concern on the tendo's face. The moment hung between the pair for a moment…
"Not that I'm worried 'bout it or nothing."
…And was promptly shattered as Ranma opened his mouth. The concern on Akane's face quickly faded to irritation. "Baka."
She stood up and executed a sharp about face with a 'hmmf!' and let herself out of the dojo. Ranma stared after her for several seconds before a slight smile crept across face.
"Kawaii-kun."
Urd, Goddess of the Past Category two, Class two limited sat in the waiting room to administrative hell, occupying herself with a glossy fashion magazine at least three months out of date. Beside her sat a black haired teen who was preoccupied with poking hexagon with a screwdriver. The hexagon itself was made of several different components sporting bundles of wiring, switches and other parts that were more than likely best left unmolested. Urd brushed a lock of white hair away from her face, sighing as the girl made another adjustment. While the waiting area itself wasn't really a gateway to hell itself, the sparkly furnished room and it's out of date literature was certainly trying its best. Even the muzak that filtered over the office PA was stale.
Even through the mind numbing boredom, she knew why she was there. Her and the little squirt had screwed up. Initiating activity with a mortal outside the dispensation of a wish was a no-no. Sure, it was a rule that was bent all the time, but when coupled with their second mistake, couldn't be overlooked. Actually fighting with a mortal was a much bigger no-no. There were circumstances that would allow for the neutralization and memory removal of humans that perceived them, but attacking one without first being attacked first was huge. She be lucky not to be grounded by the time—
"The board will see you now, Urd, Skuld."
Urd broke from her introspection and nodded to the golden haired receptionist behind the reception desk, nudging the teen beside her. Skuld pocketed the hexagon and looked up at her sister with some degree of consternation dancing across her features. Not that the part-time Goddess of Love couldn't relate. It was the girl's first board and chucking high explosives at a mortal was a huge infraction. Only Bell was spared, and she was waiting for news right outside this very office. Urd let loose a weary sigh, stepping by the professionally dressed receptionist and up to the adjacent door.
Might as well get this over with.
She pushed through the door and stepped inside another room only slightly more inspiring than the last in terms of aesthetics, yet infinitely more oppressive in atmosphere. Two empty chairs sat before three curved desks. The center desk was occupied by somebody she knew quite well—long black hair streamed around her sharp facial features and skin-tight clothing that attempted to mix a skirt and a lace vest with revealing results. Peorth acknowledge the pair with a small nod and gestured for them to sit down. To either side of her was a god and another goddess. The god wore a short crop of gray hair and was bare-chested, save the loose vest that hung over a well defined chest. To Peorth's right Urd recognized Cedilla, her shoulder length light blue hair and long chandelier earrings being the most outstanding features on the conservatively dressed goddess. Urd took her seat with Skuld following shortly behind. The god she really didn't know but she had shared drinks with Cedilla on occasion. Peorth was more Belldandy's acquaintance than hers. All three were, of course, rank one-ones.
"Bonjeur, Urd, Goddess of the Past, Skuld, Goddess of the future." The center goddess began the meeting with opening pleasantries. "I wish, of course, our meeting were under more, shall we say, ideal circumstances. The white haired goddess nodded while the teen next to her fidgeted nervously in her seat. Peorth continued. "You do know why you are present before this board?"
Urd was about to answer the largely rhetorical question when the god on her right preempted the response. "Violations of the Mortal Articles of Conduct are very serious offenses, Miss Urd; specifically Book one hundred and twelve, chapter eight, section thirty five."
"We're sorry!" Skuld blurted, bolting . "But she was rude!"
"Rude or not, monemi, you are a goddess and she is not." Peorth chastised gently.
"She's right, squirt." Urd commented in a dull tone. "We screwed up by the numbers."
Skuld slumped down and the goddess Cedilla continued. "While it is heartening that you acknowledge your error in the matter, the situation has greater portent than you realize."
A pit in Urd's stomach developed, one deeper than the pit that had been developing in the waiting room. Here it comes, she mused darkly. The anvil…
"Your violation of the Mortal Articles has brought the Mutual Competition clause into play," The light blue haired goddess continued, referencing thick binder on the desk before her. "The mortal in question is now fair game for influence by infernal agents."
The thrust of Cedilla's point became crystal clear in that instant. "Mother."
Peorth nodded at the hissed title. "Truly. It would appear that your mère has taken a direct interest in this one, which is most unfortunate."
Gears within the tanned Goddess' brain began to churn. It didn't make sense. Mortals were a dime a dozen. Her mother had agents to do the legwork. Why would she take an interest in this—
"His name is Ranma Saotome." The god answered her unspoken question, reading from an Yggrisil interface window. "He—"
"He?" Skuld blinked, interrupting the god. "Red was a girl."
"Gender curse." Peorth shook her head, correcting the girl. "Please continue, Adonis."
The god nodded. "Ranma Saotome, age 16, the only child of Genma Saotome and Nodoka Hime, gender, male. Saotome acquired a gender curse at age fifteen while on a training mission to Jusenkyo, China."
"Guess that explains the gender thing." Urd muttered. "Doesn't explain why mother wants him, though."
"We're not entirely sure ourselves, to be honest," Cedilla admitted, adjusting one of her shoulder length earrings. "though his record is impressive enough. Encounters with two demi-gods, a Halfling dragon prince and one, two, three, four…" Her voice trailed off a moment as she counted off the page she was holding, "um, several supernatural entities."
Adonis continued the summary. "Additionally, he suffers from at least three curses, is engaged to no less than six women, one man and just happens to be the heir to a high level school of martial arts."
The rundown left the goddess of the past blinking. Peorth pushed forward with the inquiry. "We were wondering if you had any thoughts as to Hild-sama's interest in this boy."
Urd's expression deadened into a lack of enthusiasim. If the reports were to be believed, the kid- boy or girl –was a damn chaos magnet. "Of course mother is interested in her," The goddess chuckled without mirth. "She's a play toy."
"A… play toy?" Adonis arched an eyebrow.
"Mother gets bored easily." Urd elaborated with a slight sarcastic edge to her words. "I think it's half the reason she pesters us so much. This kid has so much going on around her that Mother can't help but to take an interest."
"So Saotome is… entertainment?" Peorth questioned hesitantly. Being the Daimakaichō's entertainment couldn't be conducive to one's long term health, especially if that person were a mortal.
Urd shrugged. "I wouldn't worry about it too much. She'll probably play with her for a bit then get bored and leave her alone."
"Regardless," Adonis inserted. "The Powers That Be have directed we keep a close eye on the situation."
"The board tends to agree that there will be no lasting damage to the boy." Cedilla continued, organizing her notes. "Saotome has a streak of individuality a mile wide and is unlikely to be corrupted by Hild's influence in the short term."
"But…?" Urd posed the question that was all but hanging before her as bait.
"But," The light blue haired goddess continued. "We must ensure that influence remains minor."
"Sounds reasonable." Urd remarked. After all, it was their job to make sure her mother didn't chew on mortals too much, right? The goddess blinked, noting that all three board members were staring at her, prompting her to blink cluelessly at them before realization struck home. "Oh, no."
Adonis smiled, his clasped hands at chin level. "Oh, yes. Consider this your next assignment… as well as your punishment."
"Urd, Goddess of the Past, two-two, you are hereby sentenced to terra-firma until such time as the assignment is deemed satisfactorily complete," Peorth pulled a small gavel that had been waiting neglected on her desk for the balance of the meeting, cracking it against the tables surface. "Effective immediately."
Skuld watched Urd open her mouth to protest, only to have her sister disappear in a small puff of smoke. The black haired genius turned back to the waiting board, all eyes now on her person.
"Now, concerning your conduct, Skuld, goddess of the future…"
Skuld gulped with nervous anticipation.
Author's Notes;
Not much here. Lot of strong reactions in the reviews, especially concerning my tendency to Ranma-chan my fics. For the paranoid, your fears are, of course, justified, though I will be leaning more toward balance in this fic... to a degree. I won't say anymore, but suffice to say, no locks. If you're still reading, ch3 will be up in a day or so. Hope you enjoy the ride.
Thanks to Metroidvania for editing services rendering, and all those cool people mentioned in Ch1 for creative brainstorming.