Sleeping Panny - Curiosity Killed the Cat
by: Kiora
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[Author's Notes: Yes, it's been a while, hasn't it? This story really hates me or something.. one case of writer's block after another. Eek. Anyway, lots of love and happiness and joy to everyone who's reviewed, and for everyone else, bleh! =P But you can have joy too if you review! And no, that wasn't supposed to rhyme, but oh well. As you've probably guessed, I'm just writing these as I go along with a general idea of what I want to do, so it's been kind of pointless so far, but that'll change. Hopefully. Well, on to the chapter. Yay!]
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"Mommy, what's a curse?" Pan gazed up at her mother with big, curious eyes. Somehow, she knew what her mother's answer would be, or her lack of an answer, but it couldn't hurt to try. Hopefully, she added, "Uncle Goten won't tell me."
Feeling a frown tug at her lips, Videl was silent for a moment. She knew it was wrong to keep it a secret. She knew that someday, it would come and take her away, someday, it would be all over. But she knew that it was more than Pan's feelings she was trying to salvage, "Don't worry about it, dear. It's nothing." Just the thoughts painted bleak pictures in her mind; pictures of a dark future. A future she didn't care to think about, ". . . nothing."
Seeing the storm clouds form over her mother's head, Pan leaned away and watched the emotions flicker. It was the same every time, yet something still urged her on. She knew it was something dark, something evil, she could feel it in the word itself. But what had it to do with her? "Mommy?"
It wasn't the first time she had asked, and not just her mother. The word itself brought anger and misery to everyone she knew. Anger, misery, silence, and a thousand other emotions, but never did it come with an explanation. Never.
-- c u r i o s i t y k i l l e d t h e c a t
She had heard the legends, hadn't everyone? There were legends about a crazy old witch who had lived her life in regret; in anger. She lived in shadows of her youth, shadows of a world that was shattered so mercilessly. And so this bitter witch existed in anger, anger for a boy who ruined everything she lived for. Ruined it by being pure, by being good, and proving that evil never wins. He was stronger than anything she had ever seen, and because he was so much better than her, so much stronger, she was angry.
It was said that she lived and thrived among robots and mad scientists, among an army of giants and a general with a heart of ice. She lived to bring destruction and pain, and she was known as the best of her kind. The very best. She was untouchable, they said. Untouchable until he appeared. And years of being the best, years of practice, years of meditation, years of training became nothing when they fought. Because, they say, from the very beginning, it was clear. She wasn't the very best anymore; and so, she was angry.
She had been defeated; humiliated by a mere child. A naïve little boy who knew nothing of her glory, nothing of her wicked curses, nothing of her cruel temper, nothing of what she was. And her friends, her family? The robots, the mad scientists, the armies, the giants, and the generals all fell as she did. And in only moments, everything she knew, everything she loved was gone. Totally and utterly destroyed. And for this, she was angry.
She grew old quickly, alone, haunted by her regrets, by her defeat. Forever taunted by those around her for being so foolish. And it's said that after years of pain, years of bitterness, she saw this boy again. And by looking at him, she knew that she was still nothing. She knew that though he was younger, though he had less experience, though he remembered nothing of her, he was still stronger. He would always be stronger, though he was a boy; because he was a god, too. And she was angry.
And so she laid upon him the greatest curse she could muster, and inside of the curse, she sealed a part of her very soul, her being. Yet even as she whispered the words that sealed his fate, she knew somewhere inside that it would not be strong enough. Never strong enough. And for this, she would never forgive him.
-- c u r i o s i t y k i l l e d t h e c a t
Hearing voices, Pan propped herself up on her elbows and listened hard. Not able to make out the words, she crept silently towards her door and closed her eyes, trying laboriously to hear. She knew the voices, for they were always so different - there was her father's voice, and her mother's, along with her grandfather's. There was a soft crying that entered her ears as well, and she knew that as her grandmother. What was wrong?
"You're going to have to tell her sometime." Her grandfather's voice was unmistakable, it was always gentle, always light, and even if he had the most terrible news to bear, he did it with hope; and his guileless voice could make anyone feel better.
"I know, I know," her father sighed, "I've tried." He stopped for a moment, and she could almost see the pained expression on his face. His voice was raw and exhausted, and she had never heard him sound so defeated. "I can't."
She backed away from the door at her father's words, and though no one had said it, she knew they were talking about her. And though something within told her that she wasn't supposed to be listening, that she wouldn't want to know what came next, she leaned against the door again, her curiosity getting the best of her.
And as they say, curiosity killed the cat.
[Author's Notes: Eek. My spoon's gone! No! Oh well.. okay, magic 8 ball! EVERYONE wants to review this, don't they? Don't they? Yes! HAH! The power of the magic 8 ball orders you! YAY!]
by: Kiora
--
[Author's Notes: Yes, it's been a while, hasn't it? This story really hates me or something.. one case of writer's block after another. Eek. Anyway, lots of love and happiness and joy to everyone who's reviewed, and for everyone else, bleh! =P But you can have joy too if you review! And no, that wasn't supposed to rhyme, but oh well. As you've probably guessed, I'm just writing these as I go along with a general idea of what I want to do, so it's been kind of pointless so far, but that'll change. Hopefully. Well, on to the chapter. Yay!]
--
"Mommy, what's a curse?" Pan gazed up at her mother with big, curious eyes. Somehow, she knew what her mother's answer would be, or her lack of an answer, but it couldn't hurt to try. Hopefully, she added, "Uncle Goten won't tell me."
Feeling a frown tug at her lips, Videl was silent for a moment. She knew it was wrong to keep it a secret. She knew that someday, it would come and take her away, someday, it would be all over. But she knew that it was more than Pan's feelings she was trying to salvage, "Don't worry about it, dear. It's nothing." Just the thoughts painted bleak pictures in her mind; pictures of a dark future. A future she didn't care to think about, ". . . nothing."
Seeing the storm clouds form over her mother's head, Pan leaned away and watched the emotions flicker. It was the same every time, yet something still urged her on. She knew it was something dark, something evil, she could feel it in the word itself. But what had it to do with her? "Mommy?"
It wasn't the first time she had asked, and not just her mother. The word itself brought anger and misery to everyone she knew. Anger, misery, silence, and a thousand other emotions, but never did it come with an explanation. Never.
-- c u r i o s i t y k i l l e d t h e c a t
She had heard the legends, hadn't everyone? There were legends about a crazy old witch who had lived her life in regret; in anger. She lived in shadows of her youth, shadows of a world that was shattered so mercilessly. And so this bitter witch existed in anger, anger for a boy who ruined everything she lived for. Ruined it by being pure, by being good, and proving that evil never wins. He was stronger than anything she had ever seen, and because he was so much better than her, so much stronger, she was angry.
It was said that she lived and thrived among robots and mad scientists, among an army of giants and a general with a heart of ice. She lived to bring destruction and pain, and she was known as the best of her kind. The very best. She was untouchable, they said. Untouchable until he appeared. And years of being the best, years of practice, years of meditation, years of training became nothing when they fought. Because, they say, from the very beginning, it was clear. She wasn't the very best anymore; and so, she was angry.
She had been defeated; humiliated by a mere child. A naïve little boy who knew nothing of her glory, nothing of her wicked curses, nothing of her cruel temper, nothing of what she was. And her friends, her family? The robots, the mad scientists, the armies, the giants, and the generals all fell as she did. And in only moments, everything she knew, everything she loved was gone. Totally and utterly destroyed. And for this, she was angry.
She grew old quickly, alone, haunted by her regrets, by her defeat. Forever taunted by those around her for being so foolish. And it's said that after years of pain, years of bitterness, she saw this boy again. And by looking at him, she knew that she was still nothing. She knew that though he was younger, though he had less experience, though he remembered nothing of her, he was still stronger. He would always be stronger, though he was a boy; because he was a god, too. And she was angry.
And so she laid upon him the greatest curse she could muster, and inside of the curse, she sealed a part of her very soul, her being. Yet even as she whispered the words that sealed his fate, she knew somewhere inside that it would not be strong enough. Never strong enough. And for this, she would never forgive him.
-- c u r i o s i t y k i l l e d t h e c a t
Hearing voices, Pan propped herself up on her elbows and listened hard. Not able to make out the words, she crept silently towards her door and closed her eyes, trying laboriously to hear. She knew the voices, for they were always so different - there was her father's voice, and her mother's, along with her grandfather's. There was a soft crying that entered her ears as well, and she knew that as her grandmother. What was wrong?
"You're going to have to tell her sometime." Her grandfather's voice was unmistakable, it was always gentle, always light, and even if he had the most terrible news to bear, he did it with hope; and his guileless voice could make anyone feel better.
"I know, I know," her father sighed, "I've tried." He stopped for a moment, and she could almost see the pained expression on his face. His voice was raw and exhausted, and she had never heard him sound so defeated. "I can't."
She backed away from the door at her father's words, and though no one had said it, she knew they were talking about her. And though something within told her that she wasn't supposed to be listening, that she wouldn't want to know what came next, she leaned against the door again, her curiosity getting the best of her.
And as they say, curiosity killed the cat.
[Author's Notes: Eek. My spoon's gone! No! Oh well.. okay, magic 8 ball! EVERYONE wants to review this, don't they? Don't they? Yes! HAH! The power of the magic 8 ball orders you! YAY!]