A/n: Hmmmm, let's see, when did I last update? ...Last... year? ._. Whoopsies~
I'm afraid not a lot happens in this chapter... kinda crappy, really. In fact, okay, I thought I could hide it, but yes, I did make this from the contents of my toilet. I know. Forgot to flush, realized I hadn't updated, so yea, seemed like a good idea at the time. Now I am ashamed. -.-
I had no idea what to call this chapter... I tend to just pull one outta the blue when I post, and they sound kinda like video game chapters... but I'm sure I'll think of something...
4. Building a Link
"Come on, Lonz," the slinky queen cooed into her playmate's ear. She twisted the ends of his white mane in her long dark fingers and pulled him closer. The tom in her grasp laughed lightly at her insistence, slowly realizing how ensnared he was.
"No, I... no, Cassie, I'm on patrol, I gotta focus."
The queen cocked her head playfully, pressing her tongue against the inside of her cheek briefly as she grinned suggestively up at her catch. She was in constant movement against him, bringing him to her with coy shifts of her slim shoulders, ample hips, or delicate neck, all part of a girlish mating dance.
"Yea? Well I got something you should check out. Could be life-threatening if you don't."
Alonzo at last gave up, exhaling all his duties through a smirk.
"Really?" he chuckled, snatching the sensuous queen in his arms.
Cassandra fell still and silent, staring at something over Alonzo's shoulder. Her expression turned from irritation to surprise, from wonder to fright. She gasped.
Alonzo turned and Bombalurina staggered towards them, her fur caked with dry blood, eyes strained and expression near hysterical. She fell into the stunned feline, clasping at his shoulders frantically, breathing huskily.
"Help. Help me," she rasped...
Munkustrap stepped stiffly into the dark to look on his failure. She was golden and black, slim and small against the blankets others had supplied her. The fur by the ripped skin along her shoulder had been cleaned, and she looked like a broken toy sprawled lifelessly at his feet. He took another step and she awoke with a violent flinch, backing frantically away from his form. Pause. Breathe. He knelt, and forced himself to stare into the terrified emerald eyes.
"Who," his gruff whisper asked. He could not be kind. He would not be gentle. He would not, could not, make another mistake. "Who did this?"
The queen – he remembered now, she was called Demeter – shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut against tears. Her chin quivered. She tried to speak, failed, began to mumble something.
"Monster," she whispered. And she spoke no more.
Munkustrap wrenched himself from the wounded queen's side and escaped into the light again. He could almost breathe again, as well. With hardest face he'd ever worn, he returned to his duties, determined to discover how, despite having patrolled the outskirts of the junkyard the entire night, someone, something, had crossed their borders and harmed the clan he had vowed to protect.
He would not rest, not one moment, until Demeter's monster was dead.
Blue hands reached for a little head, lifted a syringe. The lights never flickered. They glared down at the animals on the clean white table, only obscured by a huge figure bending over the subject with the needle in hand, so small in the human fingers, so huge in a kitten's head...
Quaxo rolled over on his back, yawning widely. His eyes fluttered open lazily. Ghostly blue eyes stared unblinkingly into his.
The tuxedo cat yelped and stumbled backwards off the old car hood. He stared in amazement. The apparition of a dark cat much like himself did not disappear this time. Quite awake? it questioned dryly. Quaxo opened and closed his mouth.
"I really don't think so," he replied.
The apparition scoffed lightly. You accept that magic exists and that you possess powers, yet my presence shocks you?
That was a point. Quaxo scratched his ear guiltily. "Well... I guess I just wasn't expecting... you..." he tried.
It is, admittedly, an unprecedented occurrence, the figure offered, a kind of amusement in its ethereal voice.
"That would be it," Quaxo concurred. "So um... who are you again?"
My name is Mistoffelees, the other cat introduced. I am here for a reason, Quaxo. Mistoffelees rose and gracefully climbed down from the car to Quaxo's level. Unfortunately I don't quite know what it is, yet. I don't need to share this with you- I know you have no better idea than I- but we do face a common predicament that ought to be addressed.
"Uh, okay," Quaxo mumbled, watching Mistoffelees in awe. "Shoot."
Must you say everything aloud? The apparition asked with minor irritation.
Quaxo blinked. How else was he meant to speak?
Like that, Mistoffelees answered smugly.
At first, the tuxedo cat stared, but then it dawned on him. 'Are you reading my mind?' he thought as loudly as possible.
Clearly- and no need to shout.
"Oh-" 'I mean, oh.'
Mistoffelees sighed, patience apparently short. Put simply, we are two souls competing for the use of a single body. Yours. You have seen my visions, you know something is coming—or here already. I believe I am meant to stop it. I can't without your compliance.
'Okay, so you... I... what?'
The apparition actually closed its eyes. Let me show you, it said quietly.
Admetus was almost too sore to move when he woke. Astounded, he tried to rouse himself and hissed. He was exhausted, as though he'd had no rest at all, though it was daylight. With difficulty, he finally rose to his feet, and barely managed a few steps before a figure nearly collided with him.
"Did you hear? Oh my god, did you hear?"
The tom winced at the sudden, shrill voice, blinking at the calico before him. Etcetera did not pause long enough for him to respond, even if his head wasn't spinning.
"Demeter!" the excitable queen blurted, flinging out her arms. "She almost died! She was hurt! And Bombalurina! I bet it was a huge pollicle or something – you know what this means?"
Admetus was too stunned to respond when the young queen reached out to the tom as though they were old friends.
"We have to find the Rumpus Cat! He can help us, I know it! He knows how to deal with pollicles, I've seen it! Come on, we have to tell Munkustrap!"
Etcetera took his arm and began to drag him behind her as she darted around to find Munkustrap. Admetus hissed and stumbled at the motion on his unsteady feet, trying to pull away from the possessed-seeming cat. She turned back to him when he lagged, and a look crossed her face as though she only now recognized him as the quiet tom in the back of the crowds. Her breathing slowed to a more natural pace and she gently withdrew her hand, staring at the ground in shame.
"I- sorry," she said quietly, tapping her reddening ear. "I just heard and... I mean, what the hell, we're all in danger now so... I just needed to scream about it. And almost break your arm, apparently," she added, chuckling a bit and wringing her hands. Admetus had never seen her so shaken.
"That's... fine," Admetus found himself saying. In the depths of his mind he could hear himself responding with something clever, a joke and a smile that would relax the awkwardness between them. But the tension in his chest and limbs that he always felt when someone spoke to him only tightened, and no other words would come to his dry lips.
Etcetera lifted her eyes to look at him. She smiled a little, the way they always smiled. Pitying of his obvious lack, but also privately relieved. She had the high ground in this social interaction. There was no threat from this recluse.
"Okay," she said quietly, in the calm way one speaks to an upset child. "I'll see you around then."
Nothing in her face or her words should have surprised him. It was only a natural reaction that he had witnessed many times. He didn't even mind usually.
But this time the kindness in her eyes made his insides boil. He was filled suddenly with the unfamiliar feeling of fist-clenching, jaw-tightening anger. She thought she was so superior to him. She was looking down on him.
He scowled, face shifting abruptly as though he were someone else entirely.
"Right," he spat, "You'd really acknowledge my existence once in your perfect life." His voice was so firm and clear that he himself barely recognized it.
Etcetera gaped at him. But despite her shock, she was not known to speak with long pauses.
"...Well excuse me!" she exclaimed defensively. "It's not like you ever talk to me either! You could always try that, or giving any sign you want to be noticed! And what the hell makes you think my life is so perfect? You don't know me, and it's not my fault you don't! So don't you guilt trip me, chum!"
With that she whipped around and stomped off. When she turned her back on him, Admetus felt his anger dwindle just as suddenly as it rose, leaking from him uncomfortably like blood from an unnoticed paper cut. His head ached. He rubbed his temples wearily and began to feel the full impact of his behavior.
He heard high shrieks of laughter behind him. Admetus looked back, startled. There was no one there.
A week passed. Quaxo was not to be found. The moon had no power over the cursed felines. The junkyard was still on edge after Demeter's attack, but night after night there was no further incident. Etcetera wandered occasionally in the dark against her denmates' advice, seeking out a peculiar sound and blood red eyes only to return to her friends disappointed. Admetus, ever a shy and nervous tom, became even more alarmed and jittery than was characteristic of him. Something in his head would not be suppressed, kept whispering bizarre, terrifying notions to him, and plaguing his head with the strangest laughter.
But Plato was often seen enjoying the company of others, laughing and teasing as ever before, as though he could truly wake from the nightmare and live in the day. He still played the part. But with time he drew away from his usual company more and more, saving the widest smiles and most genuine laughter for a rambunctious patched kitten...
"Me-ow!" Pouncival drawled, striking a ridiculous pose. Plato raised a brow and scrutinized Pouncival's klutzy imitation of the Rum Tum Tugger.
"Stop. Stop that –right– now," he laughed, shaking his head. "You just look like you need a litter box."
The adolescent tom finally abandoned his endeavors and collapsed clumsily beside his lounging friend. "It's just not fair," he whined, settling into a lazy position on his back. "How does he do it?"
"Who knows?" Plato replied, turning on his side to face the other tom. "Alonzo and I had this theory going that he wasn't even feline for a while."
"More like a god," Pouncival decided, idly resting the back of his paw against his forehead to shield his eyes from the sun.
Plato frowned, perturbed by the extent of Pouncival's adoration for the Tugger. "Well I wouldn't go that far…"
"Oh, come on," Pouncival reached over and playfully shoved the other tom, whose only acknowledgement of the attack was a half-hearted scowl. "You were, like, worshipping him at the ball."
"I was not," Plato denied. "You're the one calling him a god over there."
"'Cause you said he wasn't feline."
"So? He could be… an alien," Plato tried.
"Hey yea, he could!" Pouncival's eyes widened with excitement. "And there's probably a planet full of his species!"
"That," Plato interjected, "is terrifying." The tomcat shuddered. "A million Tuggers… no, billions! I can't even... I can't, that's too weird."
"No, it'd be amazing!" Pouncival insisted.
"Yea, I think I'm sticking with terrifying, if it's all the same to you." The tom shifted slightly, glancing moodily at the patched kitten. "Why are you so obsessed with him, anyway? I mean – why is everyone so obsessed?"
Pouncival glanced back at him sneakily. "You're jealous."
"What?" Plato said quickly, feeling a sudden tenseness close around his insides.
"I bet he gets laid more than you," the young tom jibed, lying back with a cheeky look.
Plato's anxiety relinquished somewhat at the insult, oddly enough. He smirked and rolled his eyes. "Only 'cause he's a nympho."
Pouncival shrugged. "Isn't everybody?"
The other tom found his insides once again tightening when he found Pouncival's boyish, mischievous grin.
"Well, some people have this thing called dignity and restraint, I wouldn't be surprised if you haven't heard of it."
"Come ooooon," Pouncival laughed. "Tugger's just the only one who ain't afraid to get what he wants."
Plato snorted a bit, covering his inexplicable discomfort well. "You're worse than Etcetera!"
Pouncival smirked impishly. "I'm right," he proclaimed. In a kittenish gesture he moved to pin to the other cat down as in conquest, but Plato held him off without much effort. "Just admit it. I'm right."
The small tom struggled to get dominance in the playful conflict, and Plato held him back with greater force and a patronizing smirk. With some work Pouncival squeezed past Plato's defenses and tried again to pin him. Invigorated by the slight success of his opponent, the older tom feigned shock and launched his own wrestling attempts, spurring a match between the two. Neither held back, both laughing and yelling and struggling with simple, kittenish delight. In this most genuine game, Plato felt his strange discomfort dissolve to a warmth that seemed to knead at him gently from the inside, an unrecognizable sensation that grew with every moment spent with the other tom, so strong he could almost forget the nightmares.
Quaxo breathed in, slowly. He breathed out. His mind was clear.
Ready? Mistoffelees' ghostly voice asked.
The tom nodded.
Close your eyes...
There was a glow around him, and Quaxo clumsily tumbled away from his body like a peel cut from an apple. Mistoffelees stood serenely in his place, solid and tangible, while Quaxo looked down on his translucent paws.
I did it! He exclaimed, amazed he hadn't fallen back into the depths of his subconscious this time. The concentration required to not get sucked back was maddening!
'I can see that,' Mistoffelees observed calmly, though his smirk could almost be said to hold pride. 'Now can you stay on your feet when we switch back this time?'
Without further warning, there was another flash and Quaxo was once again in his body, unable to find his balance before he tumbling forward on his face. Again.
Mistoffelees cackled at the dismayed tom. Quaxo scowled.
"Shut up, you," he muttered aloud, rubbing his poor head.
This would still take some getting used to...
To be continued...
A/n: This totally is turning into Yugioh... lol, Quaxo's Yugi. :P I'm sleeeeeeeepy -.- when I wake, I want
REVIEWS
piled sky high, dipped in cream. With a cherry. And chocolate sauce. Yum, who knew reviews could be so tasty... ok I need to sleep right now...
