Translation
Simon
Der Fluch von Jusenkyo
Prologue: A true fan
Dream dancer:
* secretly takes a book from the shelf *
* leaf through it *
* grins *
* sits down at the computer and starts typing *
-----
Dear Diary,
In fact, like all exciting and adventurous stories, this story began on an ordinary day. I was working out and my sisters were busy somewhere around the house when I heard my father's voice.
"HEEEEEY! COMES HERE EVERY TIME! IT'S IMPORTANT!"
I ignored him and smashed a few stones. I didn't care what he wanted, that would still be able to wait. But this time I shouldn't be able to concentrate because my sister, the younger one, came and made me move into the house. I stopped my training and came along. My father was sitting on the terrace with a postcard in his hand. The side of the picture showed a panda eating bamboo. Somehow this scene looked very familiar to me, as did the picture. A Dejavú maybe?"I have big news," my father interrupted my train of thought. "This card just came from China."
Here he turned the card over. Some Asian characters were depicted on it and the European text began underneath. I suddenly knew what it was about and in the eyes of my little sisters I saw that even these elementary school children understood it. I switched off my Gameboy, on which I had just played a fighting game and stared at the Ranma ½ logo that was in the top right corner. My father sighed, handed me the card and said only three words in a shaky voice: "You won!".
-----
My name is Simon Berens and I am 20 years old. I live in a new building outside of Nuremberg, together with my parents, my little sisters Anja and Sabine and my cat Shampoo. I love computer games, anime and manga, and most of all I adore Ranma 1/2 ", the cult manga by Rumiko Takahashi. My whole room is papered with posters of the various characters, my bedding depicts the Tendo-Dojo and the carpet makes me beam a larger than life P-chan.I have Ranma T-shirts, Ranma pants, a Ranma bedside table and named my cat after the blue-haired Amazon. In short, I am a Ranmaniac, as I like to call myself.
I met Ranma by chance when I was 14 and happened to come across the episode "Romeo and Juliet" while zapping. I liked the drawings and the story so much that I kept looking at things every day and gradually bought all the manga. I got myself a CD burner so that I can save the anime that I download from the Internet and watch it again and again. One day (I was 16 years old) I found a competition for Ranma fans in a youth magazine. The manufacturers advertised that they had found the enchanted Jusenkyo springs and the main prize was a trip to this legendary training ground for the whole family. However, an adult had to sign the competition, so I had filled it in - which was no problem with my knowledge - and after long discussions I had managed to persuade my father to put his scratch of a signature under it.I wasn't expecting anything, but now I had this card in my hand and was completely distraught. It was the grand prize, or rather, a notification that I had won it. I would go to China, see Bayankala-Masief and the enchanted springs. It was clear to me that it was just an attraction, without magic and with a few freshly excavated springs, but it was still exciting - the Chinese atmosphere, the (of course recreated) Amazon village and the flight to Asia alone. It would be awesome.
After my father had calmed down halfway and my sisters had stopped jumping around me and yelling "We're going to China! We're going to China!", Although we were going to fly, I first retired to my room and switched " The Final Countdown "from Europe and threw me backwards on the bed. While the classic roared through my room, I stared at the ceiling and let this pleasant feeling of triumph sink into me.I would fly to China. The summer vacation was still two weeks away. I would fly to China. Holidays in China. That in itself was something. But then also a kind of live production by Ranma ½? That was almost too good to be true. When the last notes of the song had faded and my CD player had switched itself off with a hum, I got up and went into the bathroom. I splashed cold water on my face and looked at myself in the mirror.
Strange that I have so little success with the girls. An idiotic thought, arrogant, stupid and not at all appropriate to the situation. But even my fantastic profit could not displace my normal life. The face of the thin, fair-skinned boy with the black pageboy cut and brown eyes looked at me seriously and a little thoughtfully. No. I wasn't popular. Although I was not unsportsmanlike, not ugly, not a fool and not a slouch or geek, I was more tolerated than accepted by my schoolmates and on the badminton team.I was by no means the one who was joked about all the time, or who was annoyed or even beaten up - I just wasn't important. I sat in class, ate my lunch, and played badminton. I was nowhere particularly good and nowhere particularly bad. I never stood out, but I wasn't completely withdrawn either. I was ... as normal as you could possibly be and I got so sick of this normal life that I didn't like myself anymore. The only thing that struck me was my almost morbid passion for this Ranma. Perhaps this passion came from my need to be someone else, to be able to just pour a bucket of cold water over my head and be free from all normalities. I even regularly dreamed of transforming myself into a piglet, a cat, a duck, a panda, a god, a girl or anything else and once I had such a realistic dream that I actually broke my head in the middle of the night Got under cold water hoping to change me.But that hadn't happened. It hadn't worked - of course not. And if I thought about it like that, if I pondered it seriously and objectively, it wouldn't suit me at all.
Ranma, ryoga, shampoo or mousse were martial artists and on top of that had very unusual characters. I ... was too normal. When I was fifteen I tried to do karate, but my master quickly dismissed me from the group saying "I would not be enthusiastic enough". Another confirmation: Don't worry - Simon, you are BORED!
I sighed and went back downstairs. My Gameboy was on the kitchen table, but now I wasn't in the mood to send some muscle-bound wrestler into the adventure jungle. I wanted to move. I went outside across the terrace, on which my father was still fantasizing about China with my sisters, and got my bike from the garage. It was an older model with a wide saddle and luggage rack.Actually a bit too small for me, and nothing special - of course not - but I could still ride it. I swung myself into the saddle and started cycling. Until the holidays I would probably have enough to do with not thinking about the trip to Jusenkyo all the time.
-----
Te be continued
-----
Simon:
* stands behind the dream dancer *
* stunned at the screen *
Have you gone mad?
* tear the book from him *
MY DIARY!
Dream dancer:
Well, please, what's wrong, Nina?
Simon:
DO NOT CALL ME THAT!
Dream dancer:
Don't get upset. You know, I just want to make it clear how bad this is what you've been through ...
Simon:
* beating the dream dancer with the diary *
YOU are about to experience something. I like you My diary. Come here! So stand still. I will make sure that you experience something to write about IF you can then still write. STOP!
Dream dancer:
* running in front of him through the house *AU! AU! AU! AU! AU!
-----
[b]TO BE CONTINUED[/b}
* secretly takes a book from the shelf *
* leaf through it *
* grins *
* sits down at the computer and starts typing *
-----
Dear Diary,
In fact, like all exciting and adventurous stories, this story began on an ordinary day. I was working out and my sisters were busy somewhere around the house when I heard my father's voice.
"HEEEEEY! COMES HERE EVERY TIME! IT'S IMPORTANT!"
I ignored him and smashed a few stones. I didn't care what he wanted, that would still be able to wait. But this time I shouldn't be able to concentrate because my sister, the younger one, came and made me move into the house. I stopped my training and came along. My father was sitting on the terrace with a postcard in his hand. The side of the picture showed a panda eating bamboo. Somehow this scene looked very familiar to me, as did the picture. A Dejavú maybe?"I have big news," my father interrupted my train of thought. "This card just came from China."
Here he turned the card over. Some Asian characters were depicted on it and the European text began underneath. I suddenly knew what it was about and in the eyes of my little sisters I saw that even these elementary school children understood it. I switched off my Gameboy, on which I had just played a fighting game and stared at the Ranma ½ logo that was in the top right corner. My father sighed, handed me the card and said only three words in a shaky voice: "You won!".
-----
My name is Simon Berens and I am 20 years old. I live in a new building outside of Nuremberg, together with my parents, my little sisters Anja and Sabine and my cat Shampoo. I love computer games, anime and manga, and most of all I adore Ranma 1/2 ", the cult manga by Rumiko Takahashi. My whole room is papered with posters of the various characters, my bedding depicts the Tendo-Dojo and the carpet makes me beam a larger than life P-chan.I have Ranma T-shirts, Ranma pants, a Ranma bedside table and named my cat after the blue-haired Amazon. In short, I am a Ranmaniac, as I like to call myself.
I met Ranma by chance when I was 14 and happened to come across the episode "Romeo and Juliet" while zapping. I liked the drawings and the story so much that I kept looking at things every day and gradually bought all the manga. I got myself a CD burner so that I can save the anime that I download from the Internet and watch it again and again. One day (I was 16 years old) I found a competition for Ranma fans in a youth magazine. The manufacturers advertised that they had found the enchanted Jusenkyo springs and the main prize was a trip to this legendary training ground for the whole family. However, an adult had to sign the competition, so I had filled it in - which was no problem with my knowledge - and after long discussions I had managed to persuade my father to put his scratch of a signature under it.I wasn't expecting anything, but now I had this card in my hand and was completely distraught. It was the grand prize, or rather, a notification that I had won it. I would go to China, see Bayankala-Masief and the enchanted springs. It was clear to me that it was just an attraction, without magic and with a few freshly excavated springs, but it was still exciting - the Chinese atmosphere, the (of course recreated) Amazon village and the flight to Asia alone. It would be awesome.
After my father had calmed down halfway and my sisters had stopped jumping around me and yelling "We're going to China! We're going to China!", Although we were going to fly, I first retired to my room and switched " The Final Countdown "from Europe and threw me backwards on the bed. While the classic roared through my room, I stared at the ceiling and let this pleasant feeling of triumph sink into me.I would fly to China. The summer vacation was still two weeks away. I would fly to China. Holidays in China. That in itself was something. But then also a kind of live production by Ranma ½? That was almost too good to be true. When the last notes of the song had faded and my CD player had switched itself off with a hum, I got up and went into the bathroom. I splashed cold water on my face and looked at myself in the mirror.
Strange that I have so little success with the girls. An idiotic thought, arrogant, stupid and not at all appropriate to the situation. But even my fantastic profit could not displace my normal life. The face of the thin, fair-skinned boy with the black pageboy cut and brown eyes looked at me seriously and a little thoughtfully. No. I wasn't popular. Although I was not unsportsmanlike, not ugly, not a fool and not a slouch or geek, I was more tolerated than accepted by my schoolmates and on the badminton team.I was by no means the one who was joked about all the time, or who was annoyed or even beaten up - I just wasn't important. I sat in class, ate my lunch, and played badminton. I was nowhere particularly good and nowhere particularly bad. I never stood out, but I wasn't completely withdrawn either. I was ... as normal as you could possibly be and I got so sick of this normal life that I didn't like myself anymore. The only thing that struck me was my almost morbid passion for this Ranma. Perhaps this passion came from my need to be someone else, to be able to just pour a bucket of cold water over my head and be free from all normalities. I even regularly dreamed of transforming myself into a piglet, a cat, a duck, a panda, a god, a girl or anything else and once I had such a realistic dream that I actually broke my head in the middle of the night Got under cold water hoping to change me.But that hadn't happened. It hadn't worked - of course not. And if I thought about it like that, if I pondered it seriously and objectively, it wouldn't suit me at all.
Ranma, ryoga, shampoo or mousse were martial artists and on top of that had very unusual characters. I ... was too normal. When I was fifteen I tried to do karate, but my master quickly dismissed me from the group saying "I would not be enthusiastic enough". Another confirmation: Don't worry - Simon, you are BORED!
I sighed and went back downstairs. My Gameboy was on the kitchen table, but now I wasn't in the mood to send some muscle-bound wrestler into the adventure jungle. I wanted to move. I went outside across the terrace, on which my father was still fantasizing about China with my sisters, and got my bike from the garage. It was an older model with a wide saddle and luggage rack.Actually a bit too small for me, and nothing special - of course not - but I could still ride it. I swung myself into the saddle and started cycling. Until the holidays I would probably have enough to do with not thinking about the trip to Jusenkyo all the time.
-----
Te be continued
-----
Simon:
* stands behind the dream dancer *
* stunned at the screen *
Have you gone mad?
* tear the book from him *
MY DIARY!
Dream dancer:
Well, please, what's wrong, Nina?
Simon:
DO NOT CALL ME THAT!
Dream dancer:
Don't get upset. You know, I just want to make it clear how bad this is what you've been through ...
Simon:
* beating the dream dancer with the diary *
YOU are about to experience something. I like you My diary. Come here! So stand still. I will make sure that you experience something to write about IF you can then still write. STOP!
Dream dancer:
* running in front of him through the house *AU! AU! AU! AU! AU!
-----
[b]TO BE CONTINUED[/b}