Post by Cafalle on Nov 1, 2009 0:21:55 GMT -5
This was originally an entry into a songfic contest on fanfiction.net, so I'd love to see what you think of it!
---
It was a sad day, and everyone knew it.
Macavity had made an offer that none could refuse. The safety of the tribe, in return for making their most beautiful young queen his mate. Munkustrap’s daughter.
Jemima.
Through long held silences and long arguments it was agreed. Jemima agreed. She wanted her friends and her family to be safe. She was willing to give for the many. Demeter was heartbroken. But it was to be done.
They were to take her to his warehouse and leave her; from there Macavity would take her. Once he had her, they would be safe. Final goodbyes were said, before Jemima returned to her den. She replaced her normal collar with a simple diamond studded one she got from Victoria for her last birthday, before picking up the soft bristled brush she found to smooth down her facial fur, staining them a lighter color similar to a human tone. She stared absently into the mirror, listening intently yet not at all to the world outside. It was her final day. But she could not cry.
“It’s for the best.” Munkustrap said, his voice a stony cold that could not fool her. He was crying on the inside.
“Another hero,” He sang, taking one of her paws lightly,
“another mindless crime behind the curtain,” he stood, slowly approaching the den door, looking to the floor morosely,
“In the pantomime, on and on,
Does anybody know what we are living for?
Whatever happens, we leave it all to chance,
Another heartache,
Another failed romance, on and on,
Does anybody know what we are living for?” He pushed aside the rotting blanket, the light of the new dawn staining his fur as he faced the tribe.
“The show must go on!
The show must go on!
Outside the dawn in breaking on the stage,
That holds our final destiny!
“The show must go on!” The tribe chorused,
“The show must go on!”
“Inside my heart is breaking,” Jemima sang sadly, her voice cracking,
“My makeup may be flaking,
But my smile still stays on…” She smiled sadly to the mirror, before turning away for the final time.
“The show must go on!” The tribe sang loudly,
“The show must go on!” Jemima emerged from her den, the curtain falling behind her as she stood in dawn’s new light.
“I’ll top the bill,
I’ll earn the kill,
I have to find the will
To carry on with the
On with the
On with the show!”
The tribe walked together in their last time together, singing the chant that would be their last. Everything was ending, yet starting anew. Sadness for happy days. And yet so little of the tribe could say it was worth it.
“On with the show!” Munkustrap sang loudly above the chorus, standing ahead of the group with Jemima, he lightly touched her cheek, looking into his daughters eyes sadly as they both sang,
“The show must go on!”
---
It was a sad day, and everyone knew it.
Macavity had made an offer that none could refuse. The safety of the tribe, in return for making their most beautiful young queen his mate. Munkustrap’s daughter.
Jemima.
Through long held silences and long arguments it was agreed. Jemima agreed. She wanted her friends and her family to be safe. She was willing to give for the many. Demeter was heartbroken. But it was to be done.
They were to take her to his warehouse and leave her; from there Macavity would take her. Once he had her, they would be safe. Final goodbyes were said, before Jemima returned to her den. She replaced her normal collar with a simple diamond studded one she got from Victoria for her last birthday, before picking up the soft bristled brush she found to smooth down her facial fur, staining them a lighter color similar to a human tone. She stared absently into the mirror, listening intently yet not at all to the world outside. It was her final day. But she could not cry.
“It’s for the best.” Munkustrap said, his voice a stony cold that could not fool her. He was crying on the inside.
“Another hero,” He sang, taking one of her paws lightly,
“another mindless crime behind the curtain,” he stood, slowly approaching the den door, looking to the floor morosely,
“In the pantomime, on and on,
Does anybody know what we are living for?
Whatever happens, we leave it all to chance,
Another heartache,
Another failed romance, on and on,
Does anybody know what we are living for?” He pushed aside the rotting blanket, the light of the new dawn staining his fur as he faced the tribe.
“The show must go on!
The show must go on!
Outside the dawn in breaking on the stage,
That holds our final destiny!
“The show must go on!” The tribe chorused,
“The show must go on!”
“Inside my heart is breaking,” Jemima sang sadly, her voice cracking,
“My makeup may be flaking,
But my smile still stays on…” She smiled sadly to the mirror, before turning away for the final time.
“The show must go on!” The tribe sang loudly,
“The show must go on!” Jemima emerged from her den, the curtain falling behind her as she stood in dawn’s new light.
“I’ll top the bill,
I’ll earn the kill,
I have to find the will
To carry on with the
On with the
On with the show!”
The tribe walked together in their last time together, singing the chant that would be their last. Everything was ending, yet starting anew. Sadness for happy days. And yet so little of the tribe could say it was worth it.
“On with the show!” Munkustrap sang loudly above the chorus, standing ahead of the group with Jemima, he lightly touched her cheek, looking into his daughters eyes sadly as they both sang,
“The show must go on!”