Split in Two
Full Summary: In an accidental burst of Magic, Mistoffelees splits himself in two. Now his two halves;; Misto, the shy, magically inclined one; and Quaxo, a devilish little blighter with a big personality comparable to the Rum Tum Tugger's (And that's saying something.) Can they put themselves back together again? Do they even want to?
Prologue: The Accident
Mistoffelees
Mistoffelees was in the Jellicle Junkyard; he was in a small crevice, not far from the main clearing where the Jellicle Ball took place.
It was a crisp winter morning. The trees were long since bare; the last of their leaves scattered haphazardly amongst the rubbish piles. A thin layer of snow covered the ground and the icy wind bit harshly into Mistoffelees short fur.
Presently, he was riffling through a cramped old cupboard, the kind made of hard oak wood. He had stashed a few odds and ends in there last spring; a couple of rusty buttons, a broken piece of mud encrusted mirror, and an old battered copy of "A Midsummer's Night Dream."
"I know it's in here somewhere. Ah, Ouch!" Mistoffelees mewed; he'd cut his paw on the old forgotten piece of mirror, which caused him to jerk reflexively and bump his head on the top of the cupboard. Mistoffelees backed out of the cupboard and shivered in the early morning sun. He expertly pulled the mirror fragment out of his paw using his teeth and spat it on the ground; his paw started to paint the snow red. Mistoffelees licked the cut rhythmically to stanch the bleeding.
He could feel a bump already forming on his head, where he'd smacked it on the hard wood; and a headache was defiantly developing. Mistoffelees sighed deeply; What a horrible way to start off your day!
Mistoffelees decided it was best to call of his search early while he was still behind; maybe some magic would cheer him up. He set to work collecting various flammable objects and piling them in the center of the clearing. It was practical to start with a fire spell; might as well be warm!
Mistoffelees clicked his claws together appreciatively as the magical current ran down his paws; it felt kind of like static electricity, but it was more pleasurable. He was about to start the fire when a loud booming voice interrupted him.
"Hey, Quaxo!"
Mistoffelees jumped three tail-lengths in the air and sparks shot out of his paws at random. All of a sudden his head was killing him; Mistoffelees succumbed to the darkness.
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Rum Tum Tugger
The Rum Tum Tugger gasped in surprise; right before his eyes his best friends form quivered and appeared to split. Tugger rushed over to him and was most surprised by what he saw: where his best friend, a full grown tom cat, had stood only moments before now laid not one, but two half-grown kits! Tugger didn't know what to do; he panicked.
"Quaxo!" he exclaimed, prodding one of the kits.
The kit, who was black from ears to tail tip, disentangled himself from his counterpart and stared bewildered from Tugger to the little tux still asleep in the snow.
"Quaxo, are you alright?" Tugger meowed.
The young kit flicked his ears in confusion and stared at the Rum Tum Tugger.
"I'm not Quacks-Oh." He meowed.