Okay, this is sorta an odd opening, but I wanted to do it this way to get some contrast in on the very different lives the characters lead, so you can understand why they act and react the way they do throughout the story.

Disclaimer: I don't own cats!

Warning: hints of incest and abuse, so not for kittens!

A dank smell lingered in the halls of the dark warehouse, and in the quiet you could hear water dripping from somewhere. The air felt musty and chains lined the walls, and the sense of death gripped one tightly as they surveyed the scene.

A small white queen lay in a cage, hidden in the shadows. She was curled up, trying to keep warm in the cool, dark room. Her teeth were chattering and tears stained her face from the night before. She was short and her head fur grew pointing downwards slightly, she had a small, dainty head, and off color, gray eyes. Around her neck was a spike collar, one she had been forced to wear since kittenhood, until it became so tight on her that it cut and chaffed her neck. She was white all over her body, except for a few reddish brown spots, tiny and close together in a little patch over her right flank.

Nightmares of the events of the night before flashed through her mind as she lay there, unable to rid her mind of the images even as she passed back and fourth between consciousness.

But suddenly her troubled sleep was inturrupted by a banging noise, and she looked up suddenly from the cold floor and looked into the eyes of a mangie tux cat.

His ears were torn up and he had a scared look in his eyes, realizing he shouldn't be there. "Shhh," he whispered, holding a finger up to his mouth.

He had black specks all over his white bib, a few white specks on his paws, and eyes so blue they looked black, giving one an empty feeling as they gazed into them. On his neck there was a long, thin scar that stood out against his fur. He had been into several fights in his lifetime, although he wouldn't fight back unless he was defending his sister, and even though he was really young, he walked with a pronounced limp.

The queen looked up at her brother worriedly, realizing what their dad would do if he found out he was there.

"You're not supposed to be here," she whispered, getting up slowly, not hiding her fear of what would happen if they were found out.

"And you resisted him last night, so if I get caught I'd be in no more trouble than you," he murmured coldly, although in his face you could see that he wanted to show her compassion.

"I can't... I can't take anymore of him... I couldn't let him..." she looked up at her brother terrified, wanting the comfort he offered, the only comfort she ever recieved from anyone.

He offered her a tender hand, and the understanding that only a brother could have, as he petted her head gently, not saying anything, his actions speaking for him.

"When was the last time you've eaten?" he asked, concerned.

"Three days ago," she said breathlessly, with a pleading look on her face.

Her brother smiled and pulled a large dead rat out from behind his back and handed it to her through the bars. "Here you go, sissy," he said, as she took the rat from him.

She half smiled at him before she said, "it's Cicero, you know I don't like sissy."

The tux cat smiled as he watched his sister begin on the rat, protective of her, not wanting anyone to come and steal her sustenance.

"Thank you... thank you Leonid," she said, genuine gratitude in her voice. She ate the rat quickly, but it was large and fat, so it was quite filling despite her wolfing it down so fast. Her brother stood over her the whole time, one hand inside the bars with her, the other raised, claws bared, ready for anyone who would come to hurt his sister.

When she was done, he held her paw one last time before checking to make sure they were still alone, and then hurried away down the hall, going to beg his father, Macavity, to let her out.

The sun rose in the Jellicle Junkyard, and despite the trash, the smell of fresh spring blossoms filled the air.

The light from the sun shone through the stained glass window over Victoria's bed, the colors shining through, the room feeling warm and pleasant.

The snow queen dreamt of her love, Plato, and she hugged the pillow tightly as she saw him in her mind. The room smelled of the most beautiful flowers and candles, the flowers being gifts from Plato. She slept peacefully, ignorant of anything else going on in the world.

In the next room, her brother Misto used his magic to help their mother Jellylorum with fixing breakfast, shuffling cards at the same time as he thought over the tricks he would practice that day.

Jellylorum was a sweet older queen, always fussing over her kits with strictness and kindness, making sure they were well brought up and well mannered, and wanted for nothing. "Now don't forget tomorrow is you and your sister's birthday," said Jelly, affectionately, her awkward magician son trying to hide his happiness.

Misto magicked the cards to the table and breathed in the smell of frying bacon and mouse, breakfast was his favorite meal; he had never gone hungry in his lifetime. "I know mother, now what else can I help you with?" he said, bringing out the plates from the cabinet.

"Well, you can go wake up your sister," she said, chuckling as she looked over her shoulder at the door down the hall. "She stayed late at her friend Ectetera's den last night, doing whatever teenage queens do." She said this last bit with a touch of sarcasm, knowing perfectly well that her daughter wasn't into anything of which she would disaprove.

Misto smacked himself in the face, sighing loudly. "Probably gossiping and eating ice cream and having pillow fights," he said, figuring that was what all queens did, since he had never had a date in his life.

Jelly sighed at the thought, since that was what she spent her youth doing, until she had mated...

Misto was the pride of the junkyard, teased by others his age but admired for his abilities by all the adults. He spent most of his time perfecting his arts, his magic and his dancing, and trying for the life of him to get a date. And whenever he wasn't doing any of that, he was busy pulling pranks on his sister.

"Right, I'll go wake her," he said, picking up a cup of cold water and hurrying out of the kitchen.

Jelly saw him pick up the water and suddenly she realized exactly how he intended to wake his sister. "No, not like that!" she called, trying to stop the mischievious magician she called her son.

By the way, sorry if the second half seems a little bit emptier or less emotional than the first, I did that on purpose to add contrast, so that the fact that there is a lot Misto and Vicky take for granted is apparent in the writing.

So what do you think of the idea? I try to do at least two stories at a time, and I'm putting the others on hold to do this one and Sex, Drugs, and Munkustrap, because I work best when I can alternate.