Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Something Saijin This Way Comes ❯ Midnight Rendezvous ( Chapter 5 )
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
Finally some frickin answers! Just why do Piccolo and Kitty act so strange around one another? Why did she save his life? Why did he save hers? What the Hell is going on here?!
Piccolo couldn’t help but stare. Beautiful as she was in the daylight in her green tube top, dark jeans, and dark denim jacket, she was even more beautiful now. She had changed into a pair of lavender flannel night slacks and a white tank top so thin he could see her nipples straining against the fabric. Draped loosely around her shoulders was a thick purple fleece robe. Her hair was all tousled, and fell over one pointed ear like a curtain. Her long cat-like tail hung over the seat like a sleeping cobra, twitching once in a while. Her deep purple eyes were focused on the book she held before her, and sparkled like amethysts in the candlelight. He noticed a distinct chill in the air, which was filled with a slight hint of her delicious musk----Cattails, catnip, grapes and sugar with a tinge of warm fur. He cleared his throat; she looked up, and her eyes took on a strange appearance, as though she were excited to see him, yet wishing he’d leave, both at the same time.
“It’s awfully cold in here, isn’t it?” he said in a low voice. She answered in a quiet voice unlike her own.
“Yes, well I never got around to lighting a fire.” He turned his head toward the fireplace and a pair of red rays shot from his eyes. The wood burst into flame.
“There.” he smirked. “Move closer to the fire, or you’ll catch cold. Goku wouldn’t like that much.” She warily walked over to a chair by the fireplace.
“Help yourself to a drink, if you want. I also have a few books in Namekian over in that corner on the middle shelf, if you feel like reading.” She shivered. “And would you bring over the afghan that’s lying on the back of that couch over there, please?” He did so, and poured himself a glass of the red liquid after picking out a book to leaf through. He sat down in the chair opposite hers as she arranged the blanket over her lap.
“So what is this?” he asked after taking a drink.
“It’s cranberry wine, one of Anirania’s greatest exports. We’re infamous for our variety of wines. We’ve made blackberry, mulberry, and even strawberry. Cranberry is my favorite. It’s sweeter than wine from grapes, yet not as sweet as mulberry, with a distinctive sour tang.” He took another sip.
“Tastes wonderful. So what’s that you’re reading?”
“Livrette Damaioh----the Book of Demons. It’s written in my native language, Anin. If you like, I can read some to you...”
“Sure.” She scanned the page, and began to read aloud a promising paragraph.
“Durjha del man lexada, man lovrey. Lash ton arh osh man arh, lash nostra extada osh harada. Par, lexada ishka nostra vier ashoola, luh roudana del nostra pashada. Newstra shey asgoro un, ay romano est par etornia.” Livrette Damaioh, tonara del passienda
“Uh...Translation please?” Kitty blushed, and began to read the translated version.
“Drink of my blood, my love. Let your pain be my pain, let our ecstasy be shared. For, blood is our true essence, the pathway of our spirit. We shall become one, and remain so forever.” Book of Demons, Song of Love.”
“That was beautiful.”
“The Livrette Damaioh is mostly an instruction manual of a sort for the Daemon race, but it’s filled with poetry like that. Poems about Love, Hate, Passion, Lust, Heaven, Hell, Destruction, Creation...just about anything you can think of.”
“Is there one about some bastard killing your father, and then beating the shit out of you?” She avoided his gaze.
“Song of Justice.” she answered, flipping through the book. Finally she came to a page with a picture of the decapitated head of a man with three eyes. It was being buried by a teenage boy with three eyes, who had a black and red swirled cloud over his head. “The cloud represents clouded judgment, a mind so filled with thoughts of revenge that he cannot see the truth.” She looked at the opposite page, and began to read, in English this time. “You killed my father, you monster. For that I shall feed your soul to a pack of hungry wolverines. You fool, the wise man saith. Your father destroyed the lives of many, at the simple quest of his simplest whim. Lord of Chaos, he was, and a tyrant of epic proportions. Be done with your foolish revenge, and accept the truth. Open your mind, clean out the clouds, and accept Fate’s judgment.”
Piccolo didn’t say anything. Finally, he spoke.
“Kittel,” he said softly. “Tell me about my father.” She sighed. This would be difficult.
“Damaioh betrayed the people who released him from the rice cooker. He took over the world for a day by taking King Furry captive, and abolished all laws. Anyone who abided by the old laws was to be put to death. Among millions of others, he killed Chiaotzu, Muten Roshi, the great dragon Shenron, and nearly killed Tien and my brother, Goku. But Goku survived their first encounter, and went to train at Korin Tower. There he drank the Water of the Heavens, and set out to kill Damaioh. He barely survived, but succeeded. As he hung dying, Damaioh spit out an enormous egg. Goku was in no shape to destroy whatever it was, so I held him back, and sent one of the palace guards in his stead. He never returned.”
“When I hatched, a human male attacked me. I destroyed him. This brought forth the rage that my father had passed down to me.” Kitty smacked herself in the face.
“So if I hadn’t sent him after you, you wouldn’t have remembered. God, I KNEW I shouldn’t have done that!”
“Tell me one thing...” he said quietly. “How did he get in the rice cooker in the first place?” Kitty shifted in her chair.
“He was attacking a martial arts dojo, where I was helping the master by sparring with him. You remember the Mafû-ba, the so-called ‘Evil Containment Wave,’ ne?” He nodded. “Well, Mutaito taught it to me a few days before the attack. Mutaito died fighting your father. While his back was turned, I used the Mafû-ba.”
“You...imprisoned....my father....in a rice cooker.” he said slowly, staring into the fire.
“He was a monster, Piccolo. He was pure evil.” He stood up with such force he nearly knocked the chair over.
“Then what does that make me?!” Kitty sighed, and stood, walking over before him.
“Lucky you didn’t meet him.” she whispered. “Keep in mind, I was raised as a slave in the murkurite mines of Platyao, and I never met my parents till the year Goku was born. That’s 976 years I lived without them. 24 years ago. By the time I found them, they didn’t even recognize me. The only ones who believed me were my sisters, Goku’s eldest brother Turles, and their father, Bardock. My parents abandoned me, Piccolo. Don’t you dare think you’re the only one who’s ever suffered needlessly.” She turned to leave. He grabbed her shoulder. She turned back to him with a defiant look in her eyes, and a tear running down her cheek. He reached up and gently brushed it away. She stared after him in shock, as he left. She looked over at the book he’d picked out. Leurvana di Takkarra----the Book of Answers. If she'd been able to read Namekian, she would have noticed that it was opened to a chapter titled, The Pain and Pleasure of Love.
Chapter 5: Midnight Rendezvous
A month passed for the Z-Warriors. Bulma had set out to find the others, bringing back Tien Shinhan, Chiaotzu, and much to her chagrin, Yamcha. Kitty kept drugging Raditz, and he continued to rape her at every chance. One night, Kitty was unable to sleep, and headed to the Multi-Cultural Library just down the hall. She lit a candelabrum, poured herself a glass of some red liquid, and sat down in her favorite leather chair, by the window. She had brought with her a thick leather-bound book with strange letters across the front, as though they were written in another language. She opened it to about the middle and began to read. Ten minutes later, the door slowly opened.Piccolo couldn’t help but stare. Beautiful as she was in the daylight in her green tube top, dark jeans, and dark denim jacket, she was even more beautiful now. She had changed into a pair of lavender flannel night slacks and a white tank top so thin he could see her nipples straining against the fabric. Draped loosely around her shoulders was a thick purple fleece robe. Her hair was all tousled, and fell over one pointed ear like a curtain. Her long cat-like tail hung over the seat like a sleeping cobra, twitching once in a while. Her deep purple eyes were focused on the book she held before her, and sparkled like amethysts in the candlelight. He noticed a distinct chill in the air, which was filled with a slight hint of her delicious musk----Cattails, catnip, grapes and sugar with a tinge of warm fur. He cleared his throat; she looked up, and her eyes took on a strange appearance, as though she were excited to see him, yet wishing he’d leave, both at the same time.
“It’s awfully cold in here, isn’t it?” he said in a low voice. She answered in a quiet voice unlike her own.
“Yes, well I never got around to lighting a fire.” He turned his head toward the fireplace and a pair of red rays shot from his eyes. The wood burst into flame.
“There.” he smirked. “Move closer to the fire, or you’ll catch cold. Goku wouldn’t like that much.” She warily walked over to a chair by the fireplace.
“Help yourself to a drink, if you want. I also have a few books in Namekian over in that corner on the middle shelf, if you feel like reading.” She shivered. “And would you bring over the afghan that’s lying on the back of that couch over there, please?” He did so, and poured himself a glass of the red liquid after picking out a book to leaf through. He sat down in the chair opposite hers as she arranged the blanket over her lap.
“So what is this?” he asked after taking a drink.
“It’s cranberry wine, one of Anirania’s greatest exports. We’re infamous for our variety of wines. We’ve made blackberry, mulberry, and even strawberry. Cranberry is my favorite. It’s sweeter than wine from grapes, yet not as sweet as mulberry, with a distinctive sour tang.” He took another sip.
“Tastes wonderful. So what’s that you’re reading?”
“Livrette Damaioh----the Book of Demons. It’s written in my native language, Anin. If you like, I can read some to you...”
“Sure.” She scanned the page, and began to read aloud a promising paragraph.
“Durjha del man lexada, man lovrey. Lash ton arh osh man arh, lash nostra extada osh harada. Par, lexada ishka nostra vier ashoola, luh roudana del nostra pashada. Newstra shey asgoro un, ay romano est par etornia.” Livrette Damaioh, tonara del passienda
“Uh...Translation please?” Kitty blushed, and began to read the translated version.
“Drink of my blood, my love. Let your pain be my pain, let our ecstasy be shared. For, blood is our true essence, the pathway of our spirit. We shall become one, and remain so forever.” Book of Demons, Song of Love.”
“That was beautiful.”
“The Livrette Damaioh is mostly an instruction manual of a sort for the Daemon race, but it’s filled with poetry like that. Poems about Love, Hate, Passion, Lust, Heaven, Hell, Destruction, Creation...just about anything you can think of.”
“Is there one about some bastard killing your father, and then beating the shit out of you?” She avoided his gaze.
“Song of Justice.” she answered, flipping through the book. Finally she came to a page with a picture of the decapitated head of a man with three eyes. It was being buried by a teenage boy with three eyes, who had a black and red swirled cloud over his head. “The cloud represents clouded judgment, a mind so filled with thoughts of revenge that he cannot see the truth.” She looked at the opposite page, and began to read, in English this time. “You killed my father, you monster. For that I shall feed your soul to a pack of hungry wolverines. You fool, the wise man saith. Your father destroyed the lives of many, at the simple quest of his simplest whim. Lord of Chaos, he was, and a tyrant of epic proportions. Be done with your foolish revenge, and accept the truth. Open your mind, clean out the clouds, and accept Fate’s judgment.”
Piccolo didn’t say anything. Finally, he spoke.
“Kittel,” he said softly. “Tell me about my father.” She sighed. This would be difficult.
“Damaioh betrayed the people who released him from the rice cooker. He took over the world for a day by taking King Furry captive, and abolished all laws. Anyone who abided by the old laws was to be put to death. Among millions of others, he killed Chiaotzu, Muten Roshi, the great dragon Shenron, and nearly killed Tien and my brother, Goku. But Goku survived their first encounter, and went to train at Korin Tower. There he drank the Water of the Heavens, and set out to kill Damaioh. He barely survived, but succeeded. As he hung dying, Damaioh spit out an enormous egg. Goku was in no shape to destroy whatever it was, so I held him back, and sent one of the palace guards in his stead. He never returned.”
“When I hatched, a human male attacked me. I destroyed him. This brought forth the rage that my father had passed down to me.” Kitty smacked herself in the face.
“So if I hadn’t sent him after you, you wouldn’t have remembered. God, I KNEW I shouldn’t have done that!”
“Tell me one thing...” he said quietly. “How did he get in the rice cooker in the first place?” Kitty shifted in her chair.
“He was attacking a martial arts dojo, where I was helping the master by sparring with him. You remember the Mafû-ba, the so-called ‘Evil Containment Wave,’ ne?” He nodded. “Well, Mutaito taught it to me a few days before the attack. Mutaito died fighting your father. While his back was turned, I used the Mafû-ba.”
“You...imprisoned....my father....in a rice cooker.” he said slowly, staring into the fire.
“He was a monster, Piccolo. He was pure evil.” He stood up with such force he nearly knocked the chair over.
“Then what does that make me?!” Kitty sighed, and stood, walking over before him.
“Lucky you didn’t meet him.” she whispered. “Keep in mind, I was raised as a slave in the murkurite mines of Platyao, and I never met my parents till the year Goku was born. That’s 976 years I lived without them. 24 years ago. By the time I found them, they didn’t even recognize me. The only ones who believed me were my sisters, Goku’s eldest brother Turles, and their father, Bardock. My parents abandoned me, Piccolo. Don’t you dare think you’re the only one who’s ever suffered needlessly.” She turned to leave. He grabbed her shoulder. She turned back to him with a defiant look in her eyes, and a tear running down her cheek. He reached up and gently brushed it away. She stared after him in shock, as he left. She looked over at the book he’d picked out. Leurvana di Takkarra----the Book of Answers. If she'd been able to read Namekian, she would have noticed that it was opened to a chapter titled, The Pain and Pleasure of Love.