(Author's Note: I'm new to writing fanfiction and all, so constructive criticism is welcome! I know it's not great, but I can't get any better without people helping me out and such. Thanks!)
"Open up, would ya!"
A large, slender, main coon tom sat at the front door inside of his home, one paw raised upon the wood frame and his gold-and-black fur fluffed with obvious annoyance. "Oh come on! I don't have all day!" His yowl rang through the house, echoing off the walls as his amber eyes glinted bright. An ear flicked as the tom waited for a response, and when none came claws glinted at the end of his paw. Digging the sharp weapons into the wood, he slowly and deeply scratched down the door, wailing wordlessly as he did so.
"What on earth?"
The heavy footfalls of a male human clattered down the stairs as a feline grin lay on the tom's muzzle. That was exactly what he was looking for.
"You're late," the main coon scoffed as his owner came alongside him, though of course the human could not understand him.
"Oh no, look what you've done!" was the response as the young man gawked at the four deep gouges, twins to the countless others upon the doorframe. "Again! The landlord will kill me! Out! You're going out now!"
The tom was grabbed up by his middle and escorted out the door, his goal from the start.
"Why can't you behave, Prince?" the young man queried wearily as he closed the door. 'Prince' said nothing, mew or otherwise, and simply lifted his tail contemptuously as he trotted away into the dusk.
The cat lifted his eyes to the eastern sky, where the clouds hung dark compared to the honey-hued clouds at the setting sun. Soon it'll be up, he thought. Better get my rear in gear. He pushed his trot on a bit faster. As the main coon passed a thorned and tangled hedge, a small dark shadow flitted alongside him, shape lost in the shadows of the hedge, yet matching the tom movement for movement.
"Hey Tugger," a voice said from the form.
'Prince,' or as we should now call Tugger, did not even twitch at the new companion, who, coming out of the bush, was revealed to be a small tuxedo cat – black, with a stark white v upon his neck.
"Well if it isn't the Marvelous Mister Mistoffelees," Tugger said with mock awe, casting a hard gaze at the cat. "Come to grace me with his presence. But I thought I was boring?"
Snorting, Mistoffelees rolled brown eyes so dark they seemed black. "Oh come on Tuggs," he cajoled. "You were being a spotlight stealer. Last night wasn't all about you, if you can fathom that."
Tugger aimed a clawed blow at the other tom's ears, who ducked it with the ease that comes from long practice. Giving one last glare at the black-and-white cat, the hotheaded tom returned his gaze to the dusty path they had come upon. It was a well-worn trail, albeit narrow, with little paw-like dimples all along the brown dirt.
Mistoffelees tilted his head up to look as trash began to close in around them, leaving no place for paws but the path. The two were heading into a junkyard. Despite that fact, the tom simply twitched his nose and returned his gaze back down.
"Well hello," spoke a voice from above them.
Tugger paused, his companion plowing into his backside. The tom flashed bared teeth at the intrusion, and then responded to the hidden speaker. "Munkustrap," he greeted simply. "I hope Demeter is well?" As Tugger spoke the last sentence, his jaw parted into a sly smile.
Apparently Munkustrap was not amused. A lithe, chiseled silver tabby tom slipped out of the shadows of the rubbish, back up and head down; a threat. "Rum Tum Tugger, it would do you well to keep to your own queens," the tom growled. "Or else I might prevent you from satisfying them any longer. Do you understand what it is I am saying?"
Tugger simply scoffed and rolled his eyes, tossing the thick golden ruff about his neck. The tom stalked off further down the path, leaving a ruffled Munkustrap and stunned Mistoffelees to their own company.
The look Munkustrap sent after the main coon could have been compared to some hazel, feline form of a death ray.
Mistoffelees swallowed and glanced at the glowering tabby. "Hey, uh, Munku," he said hesitantly, "I really don't think he, uh, was with Demeter last night. I walked with him back to his house…"
Munku gave a curt nod of his head and turned to face the tuxedo cat, calm in exterior but with simmering eyes. "I know that, Misto. It's that he would think of the thing, though! My own brother!" His claws had unsheathed, but he forced them back.
"He's mine too, you know," Misto reminded the tabby quietly. "And he's not all bad."
Munkustrap grunted and rose to his paws. "Sometimes I wonder," the tom said, and began to head down the trail. "But come on, we can think of this later. The moon is rising."
The trail eventually led through a tunnel into a broad clearing among the junk, forgotten heaps lending resting spots to the cats who now mingled there, waiting. The Rum Tum Tugger settled himself at the highest point, sprawled out and absently drawing his tongue over a black-spotted gold paw. Every so often a queen or female kitten would notice him and squeal excitedly, but the tom ignored the attention, oddly, and glanced his gaze up towards the hazy distant sky. Soon.
Munkustrap and Mistoffelees came from the tunnel and stepped out towards the other cats, who crowded around them with purrs and rubbing heads. Mistoffelees eagerly rubbed back, eating up the new attention he was receiving since what had happened the night before. Munkustrap, on the other hand, returned each cat a gracious dip of his head. The silver tabby was used to such treatment.
Pulling away from the kitten crowd who had begun to gather around his younger tuxedo brother, Munku pointed his elegant muzzle towards the eastern sky. With a brief narrowing of his hazel eyes as he calculated the light, the tom quietly lifted his tail erect.
At the unspoken signal, all the cats vanished into the shadows like wraiths, leaving Munkustrap alone in the starlight. The tom sat, still and straight, and waited. Not a breath was breathed. Gradually, the tabby lowered his head, just as the waning moon appeared hesitantly over the horizon. A breeze, scented almost of magic, if there is such a scent, wafted into the clearing and brushed the fur of the lone cat, his whiskers blowing in the wind.
Then, as if time was growing short, Munkustrap bounded to his paws and then leaned back on his haunches, reaching up as a cat might reach for string. The eyes closed softly. As his forepaws outstretched, a change overtook the tom's body. His body lengthened and thickened, and his muzzle drew back into his face. The fur on his head grew longer, whereas the fur on his body remained sleek and short. Munkustrap developed into a human form, just as feline as he was before, yet as close as he could be to becoming a man without being one.
The tabby-coated cat turned as he now stood, on his two legs, and reached his arms towards the moon making its way up the sky. Gently gliding out into the wash of the light with dancer-like movements, Munkustrap's eyes opened.
"Jellicle Cats come out to-night," he sang. "Jellicle Cats come one, come all. The Jellicle Moon is shining bright – Jellicle Cats come one, come all!" As he finished, the tom opened his arms towards both sides of the clearing. Cats then slipped out of their places, reviled now in their humanoid forms. Still feline in actions, the Jellicles moved gracefully with every step, like a ballerina who never ceased her dance.
Munkustrap let his gaze wander over the transformed cats settling into a rough circle around him. He lingered on a honey-and-dark queen who was his mate, Demeter. She dipped her head to him saucily, but flicked her forepaw at him to continue. A faint smile on his face, the silver tabby called out to address the gathered, his voice still lifted in a tone similar to song, though he sang no tune.
"Last night, we celebrated the Jellicle Ball." At that point he had to pause, for the cats let up yowls of excitement. He lifted a forepaw to gently quiet them. "Old Deuteronomy chose Grizabella, the Glamour Cat, to journey to the Heaviside Layer and be reborn." More cheering. "I ask that any new litters be shown to Tantomile or Coricopat so that we may assess if any of them are Grizabella." The twin cats named tucked their heads in, embarrassed to have such attention drawn to them. Munkustrap continued. "Old Deuteronomy has returned to his home, and will be back with us next Jellicle Ball. All the rest of us shall continue to meet here each night, as desired by the cat. Any that live in the Junkyard, however, need inform me if they will not be present." The Junkyarders, as informally called by the kittens, were the core of the Jellicle Tribe. In return for the position of power, they were required to give up their homes with their human owners. Munkustrap, who was second in command and protector of the Tribe, was one of the Junkyarders, as well as his mate Demeter, who was with him for more practical reasons than position, and Jellylorum, who was one of the kitten caretakers.
"Lest I forget," Munku continued, "we must thank Mistoffelees for bringing back Old Deuteronomy with his magic, after Macavity took him away." A great meowing rose up from the crowd, and Misto pawed at his nose sheepishy. Grinning, the tabby addressed the group yet again. "Victoria completed her rite of passage, and now may pick such mate as she desires. If she is wise, it won't be Tugger," Munku joked, winking at the white cat who was sitting next to the maned tom and blushing. Tugger, on the other hand, smirked and looped his thumbs into the silver studded belt he now wore.
"Jellicles commence!" the gold-and-black tom yowled out the words that typically finished the addressing, ready for the party-like gathering to get into full swing. "The moon ain't gonna stay up long enough for you to finish, brother."
Previous animosity apparently gone, Munkustrap conceded to the tom's wishes and stepped back, spreading out his arms again, therefore releasing the cats to go about as they pleased. "Tugger, I would say, instead, that the moon won't stay up long enough for you to finish."
The tom sneered again and swaggered off, followed by a starstruck group of she-kittens. He wasn't intent on the fans around him, though, but on the sassy red female chatting with Alonzo, Munkustrap's black-and-white son.
"Ya wanna dance?" Tugger asked her, ignoring the young male entirely.
Immediately neglecting her other companion, the queen leaned against a tire with her arms crossed. Her eyes flicked up and down Tugger as she looked over his lean form, as if she was attempting to make up her mind. "I don't know," she quipped. "Do I?"
Alonzo's brow furrowed in indignation. "Hey!" he addressed the other tom. "I was talking to her first."
Tugger smirked. "I know," he said. "But I'm talking to her now."
That immediately got the black-and-white cat's fur up. Alonzo slipped between the queen and Tugger, back arched and claws unsheathed threateningly. "You can go pet a mouse. She's with me."
The larger tom mimicked his pose, teeth bared and ruff prickling. "Oh yeah? Is she?" Tugger's voice was deep with anger.
The queen watched this mildly, forepaw on hip. Her gaze drifted from cat to cat, and then she rolled her eyes. Her red form slipped away, but neither male noticed.
The Rum Tum Tugger jabbed a paw at Alonzo's chest, pricking him with a claw. "She's my mate; every Jellicle knows it."
The younger tom batted Tugger's arm away, drawing a bit of blood on his wrist, starkly crimson against the black. "Oh yeah?" he said bitterly. "She and every other queen. We all know you aren't steady. You both play the field."
Unable to deny it, the gold-and-black tom growled harshly, eyes glittering dangerously. "You leave her to me, you understand that?"
Alonzo's tail lashed. "I don't think you have-"
Suddenly Mistoffelees appeared alongside them, having slipped out of the shadows. His dark eyes where curious and innocent as he said, "What'cha guys doing?"
Alonzo turned to where the queen had been standing. "Bomba, tell Misto that I was just- huh? She left!"
Both toms glowered at each other, blaming the other for the absence of Bombalurina. Misto stood there awkwardly, teeth biting at his lip. The tuxedo cat was regretting getting into this conversation. Tugger glanced over at his brother.
"Alonzo was messing with my gal," he said bitterly.
"Oh, I didn't know you two were…" Mistoffelees trailed off weakly as Tugger glared at him.
Alonzo snorted, arms crossed defensively over his chest. "They aren't," he said. "Rum Tum here just wants her to himself, and every other queen on top of it."
Misto shrugged timidly with an appeasing smile on his face. "He will do as he do do," he attempted lightly.
The black-and-white tom was having none of it. He scowled and began to stalk away. "And one day I'm doing something about it," he muttered as he left.
Munkustrap sat on top of the tunnel on the other side of the junkyard from the quarreling toms, eyes troubled and dark as they turned up towards the moon. His mate Demeter sat next to him, side pressed against his. She looked up at his preoccupied face and dropped her gaze back down, a slight shiver running through her body. Munkustrap immediately stiffened and turned his upper body towards her, draping a protective arm over her shoulders.
"Is he near?" was the simple question the tabby asked.
Demeter shook her head. "No," she replied quietly. "I was just thinking... he knows exactly where we are. He knows exactly when the Ball is. What if… he takes Old Deuteronomy for good next time?" The queen was speaking of Macavity, the mastermind of all criminal acts in the area. He had once lived in the Jellicle Tribe, and had never forgiven them for kicking him out. Demeter had, at one time, been the ginger cat's mate; he was abusive, however, and after a time Demeter fled - only to be tracked down and raped. Fortunate to survive with her life, she still had an uncanny sense of when he was prowling around.
Munkustrap pulled Demeter closer to him and pressed his lips against her forehead, hazel eyes glimmering worry. "Don't fret about him; we fought him off and Misto foiled his plan, so I do not think he will so keen to return."
The honey-and-dark queen nuzzled into her mate's chest. "It will have only made it personal to him," she whispered shakily. "He'll be back."
Knowing that she spoke the truth, Munkustrap closed his eyes and sighed, saying nothing. The weight of the Tribe was on his shoulders, it seemed, with him the only cat between them and Macavity. But Munku always felt the pressure that came with his position as second in command; it was nothing new.
"Why don't you go down there with them?" the silver tabby asked her, gesturing his forepaw down at the Jellicle cats mingling about, some even singing and dancing. "It'd cheer you up."
Demeter granted him a lopsided smile, preparing to slip down from the pipe. "I might as well find Bomba," she said with slightly forced cheeriness. "See what the current gossip is."
Munkustrap sighed again as he watched her slide down and make her way across the clearing, seeking the red queen. After seeing Demeter find her friend, the tom returned his gaze back up to the moon wearily. It had been some time since he had been able to let loose and enjoy himself such as the others did. That's not to say that he regretted his position as protector, but he envied them all the same. Even during the Ball, that grand celebration, he had to be constantly on alert. It was exhausting the silver tabby, more than he was willing to admit.
Much, much more.