Several months flew by, relatively interrupted. Security around the junkyard was still raised, but the paranoia that had followed Macavity's attacks was no longer plaguing the cats. Only Mungojerrie still struggled. Nightmares and terrifying dreams tormented his sleep, and it was becoming a nightly occurrence that he awoke, drenched in sweat and with heart pounding. An image of the massive ginger villain swam in his mind, and no matter what he did, nothing could remove the image. Rumpleteazer had even gone to her mother, though not revealing the reason why, to see if the wise queen had any cures for nightmares. Even at home Mungojerrie was afraid to sleep, fearing that Macavity would steal upon them and ensure that neither cat ever awoke again.
The cats were preparing for another celebration, this time in commemoration of Old Deuteronomy's birthday. No one knew how old the aged cat was, and Old Deuteronomy certainly wasn't telling, but they still celebrated his birthday every year. This also gave the tribe an opportunity to welcome knew members, either by birth or adoption, and to confirm younger cats rise in status as they matured. These celebrations were held three times a year – The Jellicle Ball when one of their number ascended to the Heaviside Layer, the Christmas Ball and Old Deuteronomy's Birthday celebration. Whereas at the last ball there had only been Victoria in induct, this time around there were Evita's three kittens to induct, and multiple kittens and teens to mark the ageing of.
Rumpleteazer and Mungojerrie were among those officially becoming adults this time around, along with Jellyorum's sons, Exotica and Quaxo. Jemima, Sillabub and Electra were all rising to officially become teenage cats, much as Victoria had at the Jellicle ball. There was however a question mark over Erik. He was being inducted into the tribe like his siblings, but no one was sure whether he was an adult yet or was still a teen. Even Erik was uncertain as to his true age. Eventually Old Deuteronomy had declared that it was up to the black cat to decide for himself. The difference between teen and adult was a fine one at most – teens were still expected to help with the hunting, teenage toms were expected to help guard and teens were allowed to mate. Erik had swiftly responded that he would rather be inducted as an teen, despite the fact that he was nearly as big as some of the adult toms already. Mungojerrie had thought that Erik had looked distinctly less starved than his siblings, but it had turned out that he was in reality covered in hard muscle and scar tissue. Regular meals and proper exercise, rather than just running and fight, had allowed the kittens to plump out, as kittens should, but had meant that Erik put on more fearsome bulk in the form or more hard muscle. The three cats were still adapting to life in the tribe, though Erik was finding it the hardest. The black cat still snapped at shadows and was seemingly constantly on edge. Only one cat had been able to sooth him, and Mungojerrie was sure that this had had a large impact on Erik's decision, grouping himself with Jemima. The tabby thief thought that if Erik could get a grip of his rampant paranoia and fear, he'd make a fine protector one day.
Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer where watching the kittens play, watched over by the vigilant Victor and Demeter. "Ah, do you remember being a kitten?" Rumpleteazer said to Mungojerrie as they reclined, watching Demeter attempt to control the raucous kittens. "I was thrown into the Thames while tied in a sack," Mungojerrie reminded her, in a matter of fact tone. Rumpleteazer winced, cursing herself for forgetting. Mungojerrie had been thrown out by his mother's owners, and after escaping from the sack had grown up on the streets. "Sorry … I forgot," she mewed, cuddling up to him. "It's fine," he sighed. "But I do envy them. Plenty of food, a loving family, other kittens to play with. At least Rusty and Syrie will have that now."
The preparation for the ball was going badly. Erik, Syrie and Rusty had apparently never danced in their lives, and teaching them was proving to be a nightmare, even with Quaxo, Victoria and Jennyanydots lending their expertise. Another key problem, alongside food, lighting, security, music, choreography and running order, was that all the males moving from teen to adult needed female partners to dance with. The dance didn't mean anything; much like the Pas de Deux at the Jellicle Ball it was purely symbolic. Some cats deliberately chose not to do it with their real life partner, to allow the moment to be focused purely on the dancing.
Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer were obviously going to be pairing up, and Tumblebrutus had already asked Electra. Quaxo already had a mate in the form of Victoria. This left only three queens among four toms before moving onto the kittens and older queens, and while neither had asked the other, none of the other teens were willing to ask Jemima until Erik had made a move. This was partially out of respect for the charcoal cat, partially because they suspected that Jemima would reject anyone but the newcomer, but mostly it was because none of them really wanted to make the ex-fighter, with a growl that would make a Pollicle Dog run and hide, angry. Plato, Admetus and Bill Baily sat together, attempting to hammer out who was going to ask who.
"How about we draw lots?" Admetus offered. Plato rolled his eyes. The four toms were all born as part of the same litter, but Plato had been born first and was easily the most mature, closely followed by Tumblebrutus. Bill Baily was fun loving prankster at heart, while Admetus had spent too much time with Rum Tum Tugger. "What about Exotica?" Plato asked his brothers, wanting their opinion of the young Abyssinian queen. Admetus shrugged, while Bill Baily clearly wasn't paying attention. "Right then," Plato declared. "I'll ask Exotica." Admetus chuckled. "What?" his larger brother demanded. "I just surprised it took you so long to come to that conclusion," Admetus laughed. "You two have been sending doe eyed looks back and forth for…" His mocking tone was cut off by the rapid application of Plato's paw across his face. "Fancy another," the bigger cat purred dangerously. Admetus changed tack at the speed of light. "Very fine queen, lovely fur, hilarious personality, beautiful moon lit eyes…" Plato drowned out his brother's babbling, turning back to the problem. Sillabub had a thing for Baily, and Plato was fairly sure that his younger brother returned the feelings. That left Admetus. Really Admetus was one of those cats that nature had not intended to settle down – he was the biggest flirt Plato knew, other than his uncle Tugger of course. The grey tom had even caught the gingery scoundrel suggesting he could "teach Victoria some new dance moves." Plato had had a stern word with his brother, reminding him that queens with mates were considered out of bounds. The flirt had simply shrugged and replied that if Quaxo wanted her, he should take better care of her.
Suddenly an idea dawned on the grey tom. "Alright," he said, cutting off Admetus's stream of compliments for Exotica. Bill Baily sprang to his feet, surveying his brother. "You," Plato instructed Baily, taking charge like a born leader, "will ask Sillabub." Bill went red with embarrassment, shaking his head vigorously. "Don't be such a kitten," his older brother ordered. "You like her, she likes you and you both need dates." Admetus leant back of an old tin can. "And if Casanova here is going to ask the lovely Sillabub, who may I inquire will I be asking, oh lord and master of my will?" he drawled sarcastically. "Aunt Jenny?" Plato smiled evilly, which put his ginger brother on edge. "You'll be asking the queen most appropriate for you, dear brother mine," he grinned.
Yes I removed Demeter's kits. They were unnecessary and ridiculous, so I axed them. I said major rewrite.