A/N: normally here I’d say something like HEY! Sorry it took so long for the update, lucky for you it’s 15 pages, eh? But this is a new fic in a new category! *is scared* please don’t hurt me! I love Cats just as much as the next rabid Cats fan and this is my first Cats fic.

Enjoy the fic and if you like it, *PLUG PLUG PLUG!!* do check out my other fics. All of which are X-Men: Evolution and most are rather angsty. Gotta love cartoon character angst. For those of you who have read my Evo stuff then HULLO! This is what I’ve been doing instead of WAT, VM, and FS! Sorry for that but I really wanted to write this! I hope you enjoy this fic!

Anyway. I didn’t know had a place for Cats fanfiction! I wrote most of this before I even planned on posting it. Just after watching the musical on DVD... I had to write this out! So all this is just... well, a fan fiction. Please review!

____________________________________________________

Account of a Magician

By: Scrawler

Beta-Read By: LatvianIce

Chapter One: The Essential Reasons of Purpose

__________________________________________

There are reasons and causes and effects for everything, I believe. Coming from a magical cat, that is sheer lies, say most. But I really do believe it. Even if the reason is magic then so be it. Magic is as real as anything. As real as the air, that, as far as we cats know, is just because. Though I have heard my humans drabble this and that about it, their reasoning does not count. It’s much too far fetched.

Magic is just because: because you believe it, and see it, and feel it, and embrace it. Why I am a magic cat, I suppose, is all these reasons. The magic of the world embraced /me/ as a young kitten. I believed it and saw it escape my paws with that tingly feeling that always brings a smile to my face.

The magic does that, honestly. If you ever see me with the other Jellicle cats fighting off a Pollicle dog and I’m using my magic and smiling a goofy smile, don’t be alarmed, please. I cannot help that smile. It comes as naturally as my magic.

Of course, any fighting of that sort certainly did not apply when I was a kitten. The closest thing to fighting I did was if I thwacked the curtain string and it came back in my face to smack me. I fight now with the Jellicle Cats to defend the tribe only.

But back to my kitten days. I liked those days. I could make an accident on something and get away with it because I was cute. Trying that /now/ and... well, the looks you get from the other cats punishes you enough. (1)

I was a small kitten- wait that is definitely an understatement. I was /THE/ smallest kitten. Ever. No doubt about it. When most kittens my age were just starting to prance around their homes, I, the little fur ball still fed with an eye dropper, was learning that my legs could do something other than get in way of my food.

Nothing was wrong with me mentally or physically, I was just small. I grew to be a less smaller small, and found the magic of moving joints and limbs.

Anyway. As such a small kitten I was lucky enough to be born right into a rather rich family in town. The maids took care of me only because the little girl of the house cried and sobbed that she didn’t want a cripple kitty which, in my first few days in the world, looked right to be.

I was also lucky to be blessed with a younger sister. The reason? Mother and Father couldn’t keep their paws off each other.

No, no, that is no way to speak of my deceased parents. Long gone now, they never knew of my magical powers. I almost don’t know how to feel about that one.

Yaaaaaaaaay, my parents don’t know that their only son (well, actually, who knows about that?) is an outcast! Something top society cats like themselves never were. Or maybe they’d still love and cherish their little boy? Oh, I better stop this right now. I might begin brooding. Magic and brooding do /not/ mix well.

Magic. Now /there’s/ something to remember about my early childhood. Why was magic so memorable for me when I still lived with the family in town? I did not possess it.

At least, it chose not to expose itself. In short, I didn’t have to deal with it so soon.

That’s all so long ago I can’t even think clearly on it! Most of it, anyway. The life of a normal cat has been long forgotten. Magic runs through my less-than-huge body just as blood does, but my blood meant nothing to me as a kitten. In the present hours of the night, as it is now, my turn on watch, my blood and magic mean everything to me.

Ach, but nothing is happening tonight! No threats at all. I saw a mouse scurry by. Gee, I hope he doesn’t appetize us to death.

It’s so humid and boring out here. All the other cats (who I’m keeping watch over... yeah) are sprawled out all over the junkyard. It’s always this feeling around the night of the Jellicle Ball. This, my sister Victoria can tell you with a squeal and probably a little dance, is only a day from now.

She always counts down the days and tells me she can feel the night coming. Of course she can. She could when I could the night of our first Jellicle Ball...

-X-

I could not sleep. The day had been so slow today! All the while something nagged at the farthest corner of my mind. Something I could not place. Victoria and I settled down on the kitchen floor, the coolest, most refreshing spot in the house. She almost instantly fell into a light snooze but I could not relax at all.

Finally, just as the sun set I woke my sister, unable to ignore the feeling in my mind, and now my gut. Of all the things, a gut feeling! Why not fate hand me a death note and we save on stomach pains?

I nudged her once, gently.

“Can’t sleep?” she asked me quietly. I nodded. “Feel something?” I nodded vigorously. “I feel it too. Let’s go.”

She stood and stretched. “What?! Go? Victoria we can’t /go/ anywhere! Have you gone crazy?” I was not keen on leaving the house. We hardly ever did.

Victoria threw me a look over her shoulder. “What do you mean we can’t? Of course we can! You may have that magic in you but whatever is going on out there... somewhere... I feel it too.” She stomped at the ground rather immaturely. “So lets go-o-o-o-o-o!”

How, with /that/ last argument, she got me to escape the safety of our home and race about town following this ‘gut feeling’ we both had, I do not know.

We braved the humid night (enough to make our fur limp) and that infamous feeling led us to (goodness, of all places for such a humid night!) a junkyard.

Thaaaaaaaaaaaat’s right, a junkyard.

“Last time I trust my gut,” Victoria muttered as she covered her nose. Actually, the smell was not really that terrible. And something still pulled me in. Chuckling to myself I knew it was surely not the decomposing compounds.

“What’s so funny, Mistoffelees?” Victoria cocked her head to me.

“Nothing. In fact, this is a very serious matter.”

She coughed, loudly accused me as a “killjoy!” and coughed again.

“I love you too, Vickie.”

Muttering her hate for her little nickname, she followed me gingerly into the junkyard.

-x-

We both gasped. “Mistoffelees...” she said breathlessly. “What /is/ all of this...?”

Almost two dozen cats danced and sang in beautiful harmony as we watched from around piles of outdated phone books and magazines. And a Ritz box. (2)

“Honestly?” I whispered, afraid my own voice would throw them all off balance. “I haven’t got a clue.”

It was nothing either of us had seen before. It was spectacular, amazing, beautiful, spiritual- in short, it was The Jellicle Ball. Only we did not know it yet.

One cat who looked about my age (but twice my size) took a break from the performance and before I could do anything to stop her, Victoria had caught his attention and brought him over to us to talk.

“Why, this is the Jellicle Ball,” he told us. “It happens once a year. It’s my firs’ year to be in it, it is!” He smiled a broad smile as he offered his paw to the two of us. Still in awe, we only each managed to barely meet it with one of our own.

“My name is Mungojerrie.” He winked mischievously at Victoria. “’Case you're interested.”

She blushed a bright pink. “Victoria,” she addressed herself rather shyly. “Oh!” Yes, yes, remembering me, now. “And this is my brother, Mistoffelees.”

The calico Jellicle cat’s tail twitched. “Mistoffelees?” he repeated, cocking his head to me. “Rather odd name, dontcha think?”

Victoria jumped right back into the conversation. “Well, if you think Quaxo is any better-”

“Victoria!” I exclaimed, perhaps a little too loud. But still! If there was any other secret I keep within the two of us, it is my name. Quaxo. I don’t know what of it I despise so much, but I can’t say I care for the name any. I was old enough to know that our parents named me Quaxo before they passed away. But... after they were gone I suppose I began my life. I opened my blind eyes and, not particular to seeing the world as Quaxo, I found a name inside myself. I found ‘Mistoffelees’ and that is all I /ever/ go by.

Mungojerrie chuckled. Huh. Does he really think my name is odder between the two of ours, at least? Maybe he was just making a statement, then. “Quaxo? Whots wrong with that?”

Everything. But /goodness/! You know where this was doing? Right down the deepest corner of the kitty litter box, that’s where. The pooper. I gave a wave of my paw to dismiss further discussion of my names. “Mungojerrie, uh, yeah, do you think you can tell us why we,” I indicated to Victoria and myself, “felt rather... driven here? We live all the way in town.”

He laughed. “Talk about a stupid question!” Victoria and I stared blankly. “Oh, you really don’ know? Well, then, you see, Jellicle cats meet once a year...”

“Mungojerrie?” A stout voice asked around our hiding place. “Is that you? Rumpleteazer is looking for-” A silvery striped tabby cat appeared before us. “Who are you?” He crouched down low, putting a paw in front of Mungojerrie who promptly rolled his eyes. “Mungojerrie, do you know these cats?”

“Yeah, yeah, cool it, Munksy!” He draped an arm around Victoria. “We’re all friends here!”

“Hmm.” The stern, silvery tabby, uh, ‘Munksy’, looked me and Victoria over for what felt like the longest time. I felt like I was under a spotlight, or something, all eyes on me despite that there was but one pair. “You’re not part of the tribe,” he stated. Not accused, but stated. “Have you come to join?”

“J-join-?”

“Well, yes, we are a tribe open to all cats. You are a cat, are you not? Would you like to join?”

Victoria was giggling and my face was hotter than asphalt in the summer months. Talk about ask a stupid question! He said his bit so clear cut and with a friendly smile that I couldn’t help but feel dumb.

He clearly saw us as no threat to his tribe. He chuckled a little along with Victoria and told me there were festivities commencing at the moment, and the leader was busy.

“You're not the leader, Munksy?” Victoria asked innocently enough. Munksy choked on air and then laughed it out.

“No, no, I’m not. My father, Old Deuteronomy, is the leader of the Jellicle Cats. And my name is Munkustrap.”

“Heh heh.” Mungojerrie brought up the rear in our little party. Together we all made our way to the middle of the junkyard, where we would be introduced to the Jellicle Leader himself. Perhaps even join the tribe.

-x-

We did join into the tribe, as a matter of fact. As Jellicle cats it is a Jellicle must! Victoria and I weaned ourselves of the indoors and made the journey to the junkyard each day from our home in town. Sometimes, as our humans saw less of us thus thought less of us, we’d stay nights at a time.

Being with the tribe was well and good; we grew to love our time with the other cats and they accepted us. Well, Victoria more than I. Because of my size, I was written off as puny and useless. At first I did not know what I would be used /for/ but was glad they did not suspect anything of my magical powers, which, of course, I never once spoke of to any of the tribe.

I soon discovered that one cat each night stays awake the entire night, ever watchful, ever listening, for ear or tail of Macavity, our sworn enemy.

I asked, just who was this Macavity? Why was he our enemy? I received the same, dreadful answer every time. “He is an evil cat with magical levitation powers!”

An evil cat with magical levitation powers?! Among others I, too, have those very powers! Or, at least, something similar. And /then/ some!

What the cats said and how they said it did not sit well with me at all. I thought for hours on end, could Macavity and I be related somehow? Could I be evil like him? I was so frightened for the answers I didn’t even perform the simplest of magic for weeks. I was just a kitten, though, and everyone took my excessive jumpiness and fear as normal kitten behavior. Except the other kittens who claimed to not be afraid of Macavity. They dubbed me official Half-Pint-Whole Scaredy-Cat of the tribe. Pouncivle, a kitten younger than I, came up with it.

Because I feared for my secret's safeness, I had to be extra wary and cautious of my actions and behaviors.

Before my new found tribe I was always a friendly, mostly shy, but also laid-back sort of cat to everyone who had to judge me. So if anything unexplainable ever came up and I got, “Blame that Mistoffelees! It’s him and his damn magic!” Considering cats ever got word of my magic, a terrible thought that was! Surely someone would remark, “Mistoffelees? That nice cat? No way.” Okay, maybe not. But it was still worth a try.

It was not hard to be friendly. With my particular magic, you want to share it. You want to be the center of attention and have fun with other cats. Of course I need to subdue most of those urges, and not draw attention to myself, but it’s basically the same, right?

Being laid-back will make them think I have nothing to hide. And everything else- being a charming, mostly quiet little fellow with sometimes a sarcastic mouth on him- just rounded me. I heard the Gumbie Cat, Jennyanydots, say about Alonzo’s sarcasm once that it was all he had. And... well yeah it is. Alonzo’s a dork.

A good dancer, I’ll give him that, but a dork no less. Still, though, dorks can make good friends. Or could, anyway. Because when that dork stamina kicks in there’s no actual thinking going on. /Ever/.

But my kitten days were not all as grand as the day Victoria and I were brought into the tribe. In all truth, I don’t think any day /yet/- years later- is as special to me.

Some of those days... whist being the smallest kitten (I aged just like everyone else so I was soon to be almost the smallest tom), with a baby face (It’ll never go away, I’m afraid), and a white /bib/ of fur for goodness sakes (its part of my ‘tuxedo’ cat look... yes, I’ll just keep telling myself that) I had times in my youth that were... not so good. Some days were downright terrifying, to say the least.

-X-

I could not jump onto the island so I was melted in the lava. Er, by Alonzo’s rules, anyway. According to Victoria I could still be thrown a life buoy.

In truth, not game, I could not jump up to a slanted tabletop and was losing the game by being the last one left on the ground. I had been winning until Bomba became the leader of the game and sabotaged me by climbing to places I could not reach.

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer giggled at my attempts to reach the table top. Jump, reach, streeeeeeeeeeetch, fall. Over and over again.

Persistence blows. I read that on one of my human’s morning drinking mugs. It had a little picture of someone at work, I guess. It was cheap and broken when I knocked it off the counter. Well if it was of better quality it would have survived the fall, now wouldn’t it?!

Well. Giggles turned to laughs and laughing is contagious. I couldn’t decide which would be worse- quitting and being mocked or continue trying and being humiliated. In the end I started into a run as I grew tired of the words that had started to roll my way.

It just so happens it had been raining on our island lava game, and was raining everywhere else in the junkyard. Some places, it seemed, more heavily than others. But still, the other kittens chased me through it.

From the now /pouring/ rain we all heard a throaty laugh that seemed to echo from every direction.

Demeter cried out, “Macavity!” and we all froze where we were, terrified from our ears to the tips of our tails. It was just us kittens there. Now more than ever was it pounding in my brain that I was stupid! So very, very stupid to have led them all out there! Could I not have just taken the words? Just words! Hurtful words, yes, but words none the less! Why did I have to run from them, oh why? For fun, if nothing else, they were sure to follow!

It was then I realized I had my eyes shut tight. I opened them oh so slightly to find I was the only kitten standing. All the others were on their bellies or low to the ground- a sure sign of surrender.

But where was Macavity? I turned my head just a bit- hardly a hair!- to my left and then my right. Horribly sunken in eyes and the face of evil was what I was met with.

I contained a cry because I knew my meow was pathetic. If he didn’t laugh at me he’d rip my throat and then laugh.

A claw under my chin guided me into the face of Macavity himself. I gave a tiny whimper and he gave an immense laugh.

His claw brought my head up further to face him, but so much further it was a strain! I tried to pull back but then, with a quick turn of his wrist, he had my entire neck in just his right paw. He could snap it then, if he wanted to.

Trembling terribly I thought then would be a perfect time to get out of there. I very well could make it so, you know, me and the other kittens gone in a single disappearing act.

Too scared to make a move, I was at Macavity’s disposal.

“What’s the matter, little kitten?” This was the first time I had ever heard him speak. His voice was deep and he pronounced every syllable like it was to decide life or death. He grinned a toothy grin which made his eyes gleam exceptionally so. His eyes, now that was something. The same very color of my own! From afar, hidden in shadow of his brow, they looked a coal black, but up close, that frighteningly close, they are my very same dark brown. Almost a black.

I mentally smacked myself. Eye color! Who cares about eye color! I was two inches away from this mad man- I had to do something!

“Scared?” he asked me. I shook my head a short ‘no’ as I tried to buy myself time to think what to do. “Figures,” he continued. “A powerful cat such as yourself... what have you got to be scared of?” He paused, as though to give me a moment to think and /decide/ what I’m scared of. Pshh. As if I don’t already know. “Use your head, Mistoffelees, you should very well be scared of /me/.”

In his eyes I could see my reflection watching his free paw raise up to strike me. Kittens around me cried out but their gasps were cut short. I had already disappeared from Macavity’s clutches and I’d taken the other kittens along with me. Wherever I went.

Oh Heaviside, it seemed like ages before we all reappeared again! I know it had only been a mere second or so but I felt a dead weight on me like the worth of centuries of this fear.

I caught a breath on the junkyard earth. I looked up. All the kittens were staring at me, wide eyed, bodies arched, in fear.

“Are- are you all alright...?” I asked, my still trembling body only allowing my voice to rise just above a whisper.

Mungojerrie and Rumpleteazer spoke first, in that impeccable sibling union. “The /hell/!” They nearly shouted the last word, much to Victoria’s distaste. Of course, it’s her dear brother the magician she had her eyes on so it looked like she was scowling at /me/.

Mungojerrie stood with a little trouble; shaky legs are normally a result of my disappearing act. He helped his sister up, too. “We- and he- and /you/!” he huffed, unable to finish a sentence. “And you’ve got the nerve to ask if we’re alright!” A pause, and he keeled over. “I t’ink I’m gonna be sick....” Ah, the occasional weak stomach. That too.

“We ‘eard whot Macavity said to you!” Rumpleteazer provided. “You... you’re a magic cat too!” She almost sounded enchanted by it. In awe, if I’m so bold to say.

“Just like Macavity!” Bomba cried out. “He has magical powers too!” She was still on the ground with Demeter and Alonzo, tears streaming her fear- stricken face. “Mistoffelees, he said something else to you! He said you were powerful and- and you were on his side!”

No, no, no, no, no! Bomba, please do not confuse words! “That’s not what he said at all!” I told her, but she would not have it.

“I knew there was something about you, Mistoffelees!” She turned back to Demeter and Alonzo and then gestured to me. “Just look at him!”

“Bomba, no, I swear I’m not on his side at all!” I think I was more scared about this time, in this conversation than I ever was back with Macavity. “He was trying to rip my head off and you think we were allies?! Please, listen to me, I /am/ a magic cat but-”

“I knew it!”

“But-”

“All magic cats are evil!” Alonzo put in. “Isn’t that what Jellylorum said?”

Victoria, sweet innocent Victoria, had by then broken down into another fit of tears. “Not at all, Alonzo, Bomba, not at all! That is not what she said at all!” Tears streamed down her face and she tore at the dirt below her paws. “Mistoffelees is a good cat with good magic! He is my brother so stop your horrible accusing of him! He just saved us all!”

Mungojerrie gave us all a look at what he had for lunch and Bomba stood tall, much taller than I, and lifted her chin. “I’m telling Old Deuteronomy.” And with that she raced off. Quickly following her were Demeter and Alonzo. Rumpleteazer hurried her brother along and Victoria stayed a moment with me.

“Misto...” Was she saying my name the same way she always did? With that cuteness that discontinued all her words? Or was she, yes I can see it clearly now, too distressed to finish?

“I’m going to follow them and see to it they get the story straight. Please don’t leave here, Mistoffelees, I won’t be long...” She outstretched a paw to me and I met it with my own carefully and politely. Then she, too, bounded off to find the rest of the tribe and Old Deuteronomy.

Dropping to all four feet I, too, ran. Back to where we had encountered Macavity- a stupid thing to do, I know, but where else was I to go? If Macavity got me, then that might just be as well. With my magical powers out in the open I would be kicked out of the tribe- or worse! Victoria was a sweet kitten but nothing she said, especially as a new kitten to the tribe, could override anything Alonzo, Demeter, and Bomba had to say.

Demeter had said not a word at all. But she often went with her good friend Bomba’s judgment, as soft spoken as she was. Oh but surely she saw the importance in this? Good Heaviside, please let her speak up with the truth!

I'd run blind for a good while then and my legs didn’t want to take me any further. Luckily I spied a large pipe big enough to sit in, perhaps even to stand in. It was lodged between an ice chest and a broken table top.

It was my refuge.

-X-

And I had to remember to all that /why/? It’s almost dawn, now, that’s good. I can wake everyone up and then sleep for a few hours before the Jellicle Ball.

I won’t ever forget what happened next, because I am sure I heard it. I can /still/ hear it, echoing softly in the depths of my mind. It won’t ever leave, I fear.

-X-

“I know what you are, Mistoffelees... and I know what you have potential to be. Find me else I’ll find you.”

I swear on my own magic that I heard that during my sleep. But not in my /dreams/ if you know what I mean. Someone physically whispered it into my ear. I have a hunch who, but do I really want to think about it? No. Not one bit.

I didn’t know how long it had been since I’d been asleep. It was still dusky time.... Or could it have been dusky time all over again? Did I sleep an entire day? Did it even matter then?

Munkustrap found me. Right before dark he tapped at my pipe shelter and shook my shoulder some by means to awake me if I were asleep.

“Mistoffelees, goodness, we’ve been worried,”

I didn’t move an inch.

“Mistoffelees? Come on out of there, there’s nothing to be afraid of...”

I tucked my paws under my chest and bowed my head. I could not face Munkustrap! I could not touch his outstretched paw! I was too much of a scared, lowly kitten to do anything.

Against all my judgment, though, I did say something. “Yes, there is everything to be afraid of.”

He could smell the tears held behind my eyes and hear the hiccups I kept at bay. He just didn’t let on that that was so. If he thought it was pathetic, though, he would have told me because that is the type of cat Munkustrap is. But he did not laugh or make fun at me. He lay down on his stomach, facing me, outside my shelter. (3)

“Nothing either of us should be afraid of out here,” he said, trying to look me in the eyes. “Just the tribe, and surely they are nothing to fear, right, Mistoffelees?”

Great, ask me a /question/, then. I did not want this at all.

“Are you afraid of them?” He persisted because I did not answer.

“Don’t use the spider analogy, please,” I beckoned, because the last thing I wanted to hear was that the tribe was more afraid of me than I was of them. “And... yes. I’m afraid they will hate me for this.”

“For what?”

Why was he making me answer him?! I’ve never been afraid in front of him and that was saying something! He is the protector of the Jellicle Cats- if anyone, I should have been wary of /his/ judging eyes! But I was not. He welcomed Victoria and me that one night and I knew I could trust him. So why then did I feel such anxiety for his questions and my answers? It was not fair.

“For being a magical cat, for saving their lives with magic, for being just like Macavity!” I should not have had to scream it, but he should not have had to ask.

Munkustrap considered my outburst a long while. “You know,” he said at last, “keeping something like that from all of us may not have been the best choice. But I can see where you’re coming from. And let me be the first to say, or one of the few you listen to, having a magic cat who uses his powers responsibly, and with good reason –like you- is a definite advantage for our tribe over Macavity.”

“No one will believe that. They all think I /work/ for Macavity!”

“But you don’t.” Great, it even /sounded/ like a question.

“NO! I was scared out of my fur he was about to tear my head off! All he said was- was that I was powerful but should be afraid of him. And, I think, something else...” I licked over my dry lips. “I think he said he wants me to find him.”

It did not take so long for the silver tabby to take this in. “Yes, that does seem like something Macavity would want. He’s all about power, you know, he wants it, needs it, lives off it. I think he’s... intimidated by you.”

I snorted. “That’s /precisely/ how he made it sound.” I rolled my eyes.

Munkustrap put a paw to my cheek. “Listen, you’re just a kitten. You don’t need this to worry about. The tribe has your back.”

“Yeah, with their blind hate.” I shifted uncomfortably. “Unless they are oh so kind as to show that right to my face.”

“Why would they hate you? All the time you were with the tribe you have never showed any signs of evil!”

Narrowing my eyes to the dirt in the pipe, I told him that maybe I hid it well.

Munkustrap was doing his best to deal with me, a vague and rather aloof kitten at the moment. Though I did not want to know what he thought. (I was more of a teenager than a kitten those days!) I knew it would be best if I heard it. “Do you really think you have evil inside you? You surely do not.”

Again, I did not answer.

With a sigh, the older cat ascended upwards in one single, smooth motion. He stood powerfully in front of me so much that, I think the reason was he brought out the strength in me. I could not be weak like I was around such a cat as himself. “Mistoffelees, I know a way we can prove to the tribe and to yourself that you are good and possess no evil magic. Come, let us find Old Deuteronomy.”

-X-

That was all a definite turning point in my life. Old Deuteronomy spoke with me, the other Jellicles, and then all of us at once. My secret was out, yes, but the Jellicle Leader assured me I was still welcomed. He would not put a kitten (kitten makes me sound smaller than I was! I was almost not a kitten then anyway!) out of the tribe for doing nothing wrong, he had said.

So, eventually, and mostly at Old Deuteronomy’s word and not their own thought, the tribe eased up to me again. I was accepted, more or less. From time to time some of the cats would call me out for help. Yes, I was always happy to help, but with such trifle things as not wanting to catch a mouse but they were hungry? Especially when the favors became more regular (horribly so!) did I realize I was only contributing to their laziness. I said nothing of the sort, however. I merely gave a smile, stopped what I was doing and conjured up a mouse. I hoped they would all label my quiet, smiling, agreeable ways as niceness and not just my power.

Whatever they were doing, or not doing as it seemed, I grew tired of it. The constant calling of my name at their will, I felt like a slave! My freedom as a Jellicle cat lost over their acceptance? In excess of all these long years I still am not sure that was the actual bargain. You see, I still want to deny I was ever so foolish as to even think to give up my freedom, something I indeed cherished more as a kitten.

I do not think anyone knows of these true feelings of mine I harbor now besides, surprisingly enough, Rum Tum Tugger. Even though I have never shared my feelings with him in conversation, I know he knows. He is actually a very observant cat.

I would say Munkustrap knows, also, but that’s almost a given. Of course Munkustrap and Old Deuteronomy know, perhaps don’t approve of how the other cats treat me, but they know there is no honest to goodness way to stop it, too. But not like Rum Tum Tugger, I believe. Old Deuteronomy and Munkustrap were there when I was exposed as a magical cat so they know only of this and why. But Tugger was not there when it happened. He came to the tribe far later than I, around the time I started doing everyone favors. What he saw was this small tom being bossed around by everyone, but being bossed with a tiny smile on his face and sometimes a quiet but cheerful word. Of course he thought something of it, it was almost suspicious. I suppose he looked into the case and then looked into me or a friendly basis. Rather embarrassing, really.

Rum Tum Tugger befriended me, or at least tried to. I was still shy, mind you. And not exactly the most open of cats.

It was weird, though, because when he came strutting in, I was wary. He looked dangerous but everyone greeted him with a nuzzle, an extended paw, and even a good groping on from the queens and kittens who fancied him so much.

Why doesn’t my dear sister Victoria know that I feel so used? That I’m not happy? She’s still just a kitten; I cannot plague her with my problems. I look after her and willingly help her find her toy mice when she loses them. Her problems. Mine don’t exist around her.

-X-

That probably leads me up to the present. I proved my worth more than once before in the tribe. With and without my power, too. Last Jellicle Ball, one year ago tomorrow, Old Deuteronomy had been captured by Macavity. Rum Tum Tugger was the first to suggest my name in means of help. For all Old D had done for me, I gave everything in my power into getting him back.

It was not an easy task, you see. I did not know where Macavity had taken Old Deuteronomy, so all I had to build from was that I knew Old D’s life force well. I trusted him. I thought of him, every little detail I knew of the cat, everything he had said to me or others, every choice he made, everything. I took him out from where ever Macavity had him prisoner that night. My single, greatest display of magic ever performed. To say the least, I /was/ appreciated for it.

Almost 365 moons past and Macavity has been causing no trouble for us at all. All the kittens find it a blessing, but the rest of us know better. Macavity is planning something. I think, an encore for his performance last Jellicle Ball.

I foiled his plans of holding Old Deuteronomy hostage. A comforting word from Pouncival was, “Macavity always gets his revenge.” Thanks, Pounce. You know /just/ how to tap into that inner paranoia, don’t you?

So there are some mixed feelings from the tribe. “Oooooooooooh, no! That magic cat is going to get us all killed!” would voice for some and, “We need him to save us from Macavity again!” for others.

Yes, yes, I too am torn between some mixed feelings, but not about that. There is a certain queen I fancy and would like to dance with at the Jellicle ball this year. If I don’t ask, I’ll be all nervous around her like I was last year. And perhaps, even lose my shoe again to a cluttered mind. So I ask her now.

Searching for the queen that clouds my dreams with her beautiful voice and unfathomable grace, I spot Alonzo flirting shamelessly over my sister right where the other cats can see them.

Alonzo was my friend when we were kittens. He was rather small, too, (not nearly the sad excuse for a kitten I was) so that was reason enough for him to play with me, I suppose. Then he had a growth spurt and thought he was Cat of the Walk. Dork. But before that, once he learned I could do magic (during our first actual encounter with Macavity, no less), he turned his tail to me and our friendship.

With him, things must always be black or white. This I used to think was funny, as both of us are a combination of the two in our coats. I tried to reason with him, plead with him that I was a cat no matter of my abilities. He said there was something wrong about a cat who was not much of a cat. I do not know if he meant to target my size and height or degrade me for what I am. Either way I lost my friend.

When I don’t perform my magic I don’t think he hates me as much. So that’s a plus, huh? No. That’s as foolish as saying something like, “Only if I sprawl out in my sleep while the other cats are curled up do I look less small than I actually am.” It’s just stupid. I can’t help what I am. I suppose I could /stop/ practicing and improving my magical skills but that would be more dangerous than anything! What if the tribe needed me again? They won’t admit it, and at least out loud I won’t, but my powers are of the helpful sort. *Cough* Returning-captured-leader-ringin’-a-bell? *Cough*

Anyway, Alonzo fancies my sister Victoria and she seems to like him, too. If they become mates he’ll have to at least tolerate me! Ha! Mistoffelees: 1, Reality: 0!

Ach, and reality may just have had a go at my gut. I spy Electra, sunbathing on the hood of a car with her sister. She never looked more beautiful to me. This I’m sure is only because now she is all I can see.

I make my way to her through the crowds of cats. Coricopat and Tantomile try and talk with me once but I dismiss them politely. I’ve made a bee-line to Electra and, good Heaviside, I don’t know what to say!

She looks at me. She /LOOKS/ at me.

Did my heart just stop?

Only for a second.

“Hello Mistoffelees,” she smiles so sweetly, her voice a choir of one- she enchants me. I only wish to do the same.

She cocks her head. “Need something?”

“Uhh... er... yeah,” my voice squeaks! Good Heaviside, if Tugger could see me now he’d be having a laughing fit sure to put him in a coma.

Etcetera, her younger sister, giggles and eyes me with a smirk. “Gee, Mistoffelees, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you were nervous about something! You look ready to pee yourself!”

“/Thank you/,” I nearly snap at her. Then I turn back to Electra. “Electra... if you... would do me the honor...” Hold up, this is /not fair/! Charm should COME with Magic- it does! Now where is it?!

I start again, hopefully, for the better.

“Might I start again? You’re radiant, you know, the sky’s colors do you no justice. Heaviside, even, cannot compare.” I smile shyly and dip into a little bow. Oooh, suave.

“And... if you would have me, could I accompany you to the Jellicle Ball?” She smiles and looks away.

“Why Mr. Mistoffelees, I’d be...” Her face falls. Why? I do not know! At the risk of blowing my own horn I could have sworn she was going to accept my proposal!

Then I turn to meet what her eyes have fallen upon. It’s her father, Skimbleshanks.

With /not/ such a cheerful face. To put it simply... crap.

“/You/, boy.” His left eye widens as the right one squints. He nearly is shouting at me, and most of the cats in the area have turned to see the matter.

He gets right up near my face, looking down. “Better not have an idea in your pokey little head about my daughter and yourself!”

Pokey?! “No, sir, I was just asking her....” I try, but he cuts me off.

“To the Jellicle Ball? Huh? /No/!” He grabs Electra’s paw and she is nearly pulled off the top of the car by his force. She looks ready to stumble and fall so I reach out to keep her from a shameful fall (we cats pride on being graceful). But again her father, the railway cat, shoves me away from her. Divides us.

“What do you think you're doing?! Don’t touch her!”

Electra frowns and yanks her paw away. “Don’t tell him what to do!” she snaps.

Skimbleshanks looks to both of us and beckons Electra to his side angrily. She obeys. Head bowed, tail limp and eyes closed lightly, she obeys. “Electra doesn’t deserve to be tangled up in the mess that is /you/. She won’t be attending the ball with you, not now, not ever!”

Skimbleshanks finished his rant and looked ready to spit in my face but thought better of it. Goody for me.

My cheeks are burning with embarrassment and my heart breaking. Could the old railway cat really take his daughter away from me? My eyes followed him through a junkyard a moment as he pulled Electra by the arm with him. Reckon he could.

All the other cats decided to stay, though. Maybe laugh at me? I’m such a loser, so they’ve stayed to laugh at me? They do. And joke. But to the most of them it's all in good fun. And just how do they come to that? I suppose they realize that even though I am older than her and quite the handsome tom, she is way out of my league.

I want desperately to get out of there but disappearing with magic would be just a bit too showy. Right now, the last thing I want to be is showy. I’d like to dig a hole and lie in it, please.

Head down, tail drooping, I walk from the scene. Tugger, as always, was just at the neck of it all and had been watching. His eyes catch mine.

Then he gives me this whole, ‘Tux, I’m sorry but I can’t come out and say it right now because I’m a big pussy, so I’ll just make you look worse by standing here with all the rest. Even if I’m not making fun of you, I’m still here. I’m still guilty by association. Really, though, I’m sorry.’

Yes, the look said all that. Tugger has no need to be worried about his reputation. I think it’s pretty well planted into the dirt. He’s my only friend, really, and he knows I know this.

Talking apologies just aren't his thing. I guess I can respect that. He still sticks up for me now by leaving the scene. Which is saying more than it sounds, believe me. More than half the queens and all the girl kittens have their eyes on Tugger non stop. Well, maybe just one eye because the other is watching me (not for the same flattering reasons, I’m afraid) to catch every time I mess up. But saying that makes me sound like such a kitten. Oh well, the cats see Tugger leave and may even think on it.

Yes, as I say, it’s all cause, effect, and the essential reasons of purpose.

_______________________________________________________

(1): Like as wee-wee accident! Giggle.

(2): /Totally/ a Ritz box. Go LI.

(3): I’m almost /sure/ cats can get the hiccups. Dogs can, but a cat is not a dog... but still!

Well, what do you all think? That’s what the review button is for! Do tell!

-Scrawler