Hello everyone!
I have returned from the evil forest of obscurity to bring you the update that has been sitting dormant in the sewers of my laptop. I'm so sorry for my uber long absence (ridiculously long in fact...) but I'm hopeful that I can regain my footing in the Cats department, and hopefully regain the trust of my readers.
I know its been so long since I've written any fanfic, and that is no excuse. I have been through some rough patches in the past few months, and feel like my writing ability has been suffering greatly. I know that some of my old work may not reflect it, but I AM passionate about this. I had been nom-nom-nomed by the evils of other work as of late, although I do plan to transfer some of the Jellicle themed ones over to fanfic (read on!)
I honestly read through this chapter and am not at all happy with it, but I do offer my apologies and plan to re-spark my passion for this melodrama of mine. I have been revitalised greatly by my awesome friend Meadowlark here on fanfic, and have wonderful announcements! As mentioned before, I have been working on other projects, and will be pleased to introduce you to some of the fanfics Meadowlark and I have planned based on some RPs we have undertaken. I'd never done Role Playing before until I was invited by Meadowlark to join a board with her, and haven't looked back ever since!
So yes, expect future works, and just to get me back on my paws again...EXPECT A CONTINUATION OF THIS FANFIC! YAY!
Please ignore any errors. I was naughty and didn't proof read any of this document since it was written ages ago, and I simply just finished it off. I hated the way Bombalurina turned out in YSMMS, but it was necessary for this darker companion piece to begin its montrous spiral downwards into EVIL! Muahah!
If you can, enjoy and review. I'd love to hear if people are still out there! So, I welcome myself back to you guys with...this!
Maddy
Believing the lie is always easier then relenting to the truth.
The remains of so many unguarded tears crusted her vision, eyes half lidded in the wake of her fitful slumber. This box; She had become so accustomed to it. The gentle shield it gave her.
Protection.
Something she so desperately longed for, her heart bruised and weary from many a battle.
Tugger...Mungojerrie...
Mere fragments of fading hurt flushed her semi-conscious mind.
Macavity.
His scent lingered in the air, a warmth and familiarity glowing so strongly that she wondered how she could never quite feel it before. He had held her, whispered so lovingly to the tips of her ear, whiskers brushing tentatively at the curve of her shoulder.
He had nurtured her; he had given her a stability she had been seeking from so many other toms, all who passed by in a flitting dream within her memories.
She was craving, aching, crying for affection.
Macavity.
His staining presence was powerful, commanding, demanding of her undying acknowledgement. Not unlike the small wooden door she had stared at for so long (Days? Weeks? Months?) since her fated meeting with the Napoleon of Crime, it was a feeling. Not a tangible display of authority, not a raised paw to a smart mouth that silenced rebellion, it was merely the shudder the darkness sent down her spine.
Night after night, she had heard his whispering. The soft lullaby of his most honest and tender expressions pouring into her. The loving, honey-smooth words he had woven, a private poem just for her. It was like he was sharing part of his heart, and in return he only asked hers would listen.
The door to the box she had holed herself in was slightly askew, no doubt from years of unattended deterioration. The jarring just allowing the cool, truth of light to shaft through. It illuminated the grandeur of the cushions she slept on, the beam of sunlight just touching elegant gold thread woven into an outdated tapestry design.
The affection she had been longing for; It had been given to her by the one she was supposed to fear most, and yet, she was almost at peace with herself.
No.
She was at peace with the lie.
The lie she had been fed whilst growing up in the Junkyard. That she was beautiful, that she was special, That she was one of them.
She was at peace with the events that transpired her last day within the Junkyard. At peace with the disappointment, the cracking of her fragile trust, the shattering of her soulful
It was the purity of that single glimmer on her cushion, which let Bombalurina, finally accept her true place.
A place in a world, not held by a Jellicle. A place coveted by the likes of Griddlebone, of feline gaol groupies, of mischievous kittens that became disillusioned by society, outcasts that sought refuge from a ginger saviour.
Her place was to repay his kindness with her support.
Bombalurina slipped her paw courageously into the crack of the door, the gentle push enough to swing the loose chunk of wood open, blinding her with sunlight she had so sorely missed.
It was Macavity that had brought her back into the light.
•••••
Claws digging voraciously into the rotting wood, Macavity clamped his paws in frustration over the rounded arms of his throne. The once grand rocking chair was now decrepit, useless. Like so many of his followers, it had been cast aside, forgotten by the rest of the world and left to crumble in the shadows of time.
"I can't believe you still aren't getting it!" The mystery cat's famed temper flared at his cowering lackey. Macavity often wondered if their inherent stupidity was the ultimate demise for some of his henchcats in their dismissal from their homes.
"One last time..." He hissed, aquamarine eyes glinting maliciously, the brief wafts of dust that floated aimlessly through the factory clouding him with an enigmatic air.
"Deuteronomy is dead..." The henchcat, a grey, moggy thing, with two different coloured eyes nodded timidly. A long, ugly pink scar ran down its back leg, fur no longer growing there or behind his flea-ravaged ears. He had sought solace in Macavity's ranks, his army of the downtrodden, but merely accepted the scolding of his leader as punishment for his insolence.
"...Being first born, it gives me the right to finally take back what is mine!" Macavity spat, luminous eyes dancing. Macavity's claws flexed in and out systematically, as if mulling over the idea of power themselves. The ginger fiend, mid-sentence, suddenly paused, a beautiful scent wafting along the wind, seemingly in plumes.
"Leave me!" Macavity barked, the nameless henchcat before him scurrying away like a frightened mouse. Bombalurina stepped one dainty hind paw in front of the other, finding her eyes had to adjust to the dusty illumination of Macavity's favourite chamber. The Napoleon of Crime had stilled in his seat, his gaze drifting over her lazily as she approached him, completely at peace with herself – dazed by her want to crush the inherent, damsel in distress weakness within.
"Thank you..." She whispered huskily, finally reaching Macavity's throne and pawing at his shoulders. The wild tom smirked somewhat, face trained well from years of underground poker games, as she slid tentatively closer to him, tucking her scarlet head under the wiry Macavity's cheek fluff.
A single paw alighted from the chair arm, testily running a hairsbreadth away from the queen's waist.
Macavity's mind whirled intensely as he studied the queen curled around him calmly, feeling a gentle tug of sincerity pull away the stitches of his closed heart; opening him, making him more vulnerable then he'd felt in years.
So she had come to him willingly. A dark chuckle threatened to weasel its was from his inner soliloquy, though the threat remained unwarranted as he breathed in her heavenly scent.
So too, would the Jellicles willingly submit to him.
Munkustrap wants YOU to join the reviewer army!
Afterall...he needs all the help he can get.