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Description
The following contains fanfictions from the following fandoms, in the order that they appear:
Pokemon Special/ Adventures manga
Homestuck
CATS the musical

---

10. Silver

The two small children hadn't wandered too far from one another since that first day.

Not that they even could; their new master kept the two of them together. In face, the brunette couldn't remember seeing the other children since her arrival. It was always him by her side. And they didn't want to break apart. They were all the comfort they had in this place.

One night, about a week after the girl's arrival, were they in a place quiet enough to get the chance to talk.

"You are nice," her new friend told her, the mask they were wearing muffling their voice somewhat.

"Thank you," she replied. "I think you are nice, too."

There was a silence, suggesting either thought or a smile from her partner. With the mask on, it was impossible to see her friend's face. They were so young that it was hard to tell by their voice if they were male or female. She never bothered to ask. It didn't matter to her.

She did want something to call them by, though.

"What is your name?" she asked.

The child beside her turned their head to her. "I tell you mine if you tell me yours."

"Okay. My name is Blue."

"Blue…" her friend repeated, testing the name on their tongue. "Blue's a funny name."

"Hey!" She made a face behind her mask. "Well, tell me your name, then!"

There was a pause. Part of Blue wondered if her friend wasn't going to give her their name. If that happened, she decided, she would just keep asking and asking until they gave her their name.

But that plan wouldn't get put to use. "Silver," they said.

"Really?" she asked. "That's a funny name!"

"Hey!" her friend cried, pushing her a little bit. Blue let out an "ouch", but started laughing; they hadn't pushed her too hard.

"Why are you called Silver, though?" she inquired.

More silence from her companion. "I dunno," they replied after a minute or so.

The girl got an idea. "Let me see something," she told him, getting back onto her feet. Her friend stood there, likely confused, as she pushed their face into hers so she could discover if she could see through the eye- and mouth-holes.

Not much could be seen, but she did see the answer to her question.

"I guess Silver is a good name for you," she corrected herself: "You have silver eyes."

Apparently they had been looking at her as well. "And you have blue," he informed her.

Not long after, their master called them to where he was, with instructions to bring their Poké Balls. Neither complained – they knew of the consequences by now – but they made sure to keep close to each other.

One was never seen without the other for many years. Once they got older, they did part ways, but they never forgot the other's name - or their eyes.

Blue.

Silver.

---

11. Prepared

"Is everything ready?"

She paced around the now-clean house. There was a clean room upstairs waiting for a guest to arrive and find a place to sleep. The cellar was packed with non-perishable goods, and some alcohol for good measure. There was a television on the main floor, as well as one in the bedroom, with instructional and educational videos made by herself that she hoped the future resident would see. Everything on her end of the line was perfect for the new arrival.

"Ready-ish."

She glared at the phone she held in her hand. The entire screen displayed a picture of the one she was talking to, with a small rectangle in the corner that showed her what her face looked like. She looked fairly calm, but she kept her emotions locked up behind a pair of quick lips.

"What do you mean, Dave? You are either ready or not ready, and you had promised me you would be ready by today."

"I know, I know," her conversational partner insisted, any hint of emotion hidden behind his dark glasses. "I know I'd said I'd be ready, but give me a break! I dunno what kids like to eat!"

Her lavender eyes narrowed. "Junk food. Children like sugar and fatty foods. But don't just stash the pantry with that: he'll need proper nutrients if he wishes to survive."

He seemed to be pondering this advice, pressing his lips together. "D'you think I could just chuck a whole bunch of soda in there and call it good?"

"Dave, if you do that, the child will not have enough to last him a week, let alone twenty years."

"Why does he even need twenty years of food, anyway, Rose? He should be able to take care of himself by thirteen, at least!"

She was clearly getting angry. "With no other humans around for miles to teach him how to fend for himself? You know what; do what you want, and then we'll see how that works."

"Fine, fine, I'll go buy some more crap."

"Thank you. That aside, how is the rest of the house?"

"I've made sure that all he needs is on one level, as you've requested. There's a bed and a TV and all that good shit."

Rose was starting to loosen up. "Thank you. Nice to know I don't have to guide you through every part of this. I was beginning to think I would be not only responsible for this child, but for yours as well. Maybe I would be adding a third child to the party?" She raised her eyebrows in a teasing fashion.

He rolled his eyes, allowing a sliver of red iris to be seen over the tops of his shades. "Yeah, yeah. Anyway, are you ready?"

"Yes. The child's future establishment is prepared."

"I knew your house would be ready," Dave informed her. "I was asking if you were ready for the fight."

She sighed. "Dave, you and I both know it's no use preparing for a battle; we're not going to win."

Was that… a smile tugging at the corners of his lips? "Yeah, I know. But hey, we've gotta do the best we can. Maybe we can put some dents in her a bit before getting ourselves killed. It's like in video games: when you're up against the final boss with allies on your side, the allies are sent up first so that even if they die, at least the main guy will have an easier time beating the final boss."

"…Huh." She was impressed. "Seems like a suitable comparison. And I assume we are the hypothetical 'allies' in this equation?" A nod from Strider. "That would make Dirk and Roxy the 'main guys', correct?"

"Right again."

"Centuries will probably heal any wounds inflicted on her, Dave."

"We don't know that for sure."

Rose couldn't help but laugh. "I appreciate your optimism." Her face shone with determination. "Alright, I give in. I am prepared to fight the Batterwitch."

"That's what I like to hear!"

---

12. Knowledge

It was certainly true that wisdom comes with age.

Old Deuteronomy was a prime example of this. He'd lived several lives more that should be allowed for a cat; he'd been to so many places and seen so many things that he was easily as knowledgeable as several humans. Perhaps not Stephen Hawking-level intelligence, but he certainly knew enough that if he were to one day wake up and discover himself in a human's body, he'd know enough to be able to function as a normal human of his age, with only minor slip-up such as trying to clean himself with his tongue. He had gained all this knowledge simply by living.

Jemima was, so far, the youngest member of the Jellicle Tribe. Last Jellicle Ball, the Ball where Grizabella was chosen to ascend to the Heaviside Layer, had been Jemima's second Ball; she would have been about 14 were she human, and she had been the only one to fully understand Old Deuteronomy's Moments of Happiness speech, to the point that she was able to help the other Jellicles to understand the old leader.

How could it be that the youngest cat was equal to, or at least very close to the oldest cat in the Junkyard in terms of knowledge?

Rephrasing the above statement, knowledge can not only come with age, but it can equally come with youth. More specifically, curious youth.

Ever since she was able to walk, Jemima had always been observing the world around her with wide eyes and an open mind. She'd learned how trees grew, how the wind blew, how ladybugs flew, simply by asking her parents or siblings – though her parents were arguably more reliable sources (no, Mungojerrie, the wind is not trees sneezing). The simplest way to learn anything, and the best way to begin.

Though there were some questions they couldn't answer, and it didn't matter how many times she would badger them for the answer, they just never knew.

If that ever happened, she'd keep asking around the Tribe until she found someone with an answer. Usually, if Skimbleshanks didn't know the answer, Old Deuteronomy would likely be the only one who did. And that was fine, since they rather enjoyed each other's company: Jemima displayed an eagerness to learn that Old D hadn't seen in a young cat for quite some time, and he liked that; the Jellicle Leader never questioned why the young kit wanted to know what she did, and she liked that. An odd pair, sure, but it was a pair that worked.

Sometimes the ruby-red Queen-kit would beg her older siblings to take her with them during their excursions. They'd never make her steal anything, but she was often brought along as a diversion for the humans. Everyone loves a cute little kitten, right? The humans would always take her into their arms when they saw her on the doorstep and would bring her in and pet her and stroke her and talk to her. Jemima would always work hard to try to understand what they were saying to her. After a few months, everything began to fall into place for the threesome: the calico duo would get what they wanted – material objects with zero complications; their sister got what she needed – more learning material. An odd way to learn, but she loved it.

After a while, she began to get bored of helping Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer. Her mother got the idea to start letting her tag along during her sessions with the mice. Jennyanydots taught her students skills that a human would find pleasing: music, crocheting, tatting, and the like. Her daughter was intrigued; new customs from an almost-new culture. Soon just sitting and watching wasn't enough, she had to try some of the lessons for herself. Jenny was more than happy to take her offspring in as a student, and in less than six months, Jemima was almost as good as the mice her mother had been teaching for years. She was definitely a speedy learner, and an eager one at that.

The problem with being a speedy learner, though, is that if you try as hard as she had been you soon run out of local material to learn from. She began yearning more and more for new information, new experiences. Her father decided that now, at the equivalent of 13 years old, his youngest daughter was old enough to accompany him on the train. She leapt at the proposal. (Mungo and Teazer promply complained since they'd never been allowed on the train – and with good reason, as Skimble did not want any of the passengers to disembark the train with fewer things than they boarded with.) The voyage took the better part of two months, and so many new people wanted to take Jemima in their laps and pet her while they talked amongst themselves; she'd go on patrol with her father at night, bombarding him with questions as to what the humans were saying. Sometimes the brown-tailed cat would have to shoo her away so he could carry out his duties in peace. When this happened, she would find herself an empty compartment to climb into and stare out the window at all the new landmarks whizzing by. Skimbleshanks would sometimes find her there, curled up into a ball, asleep at a window; it was always the first place he looked.

The train trip came to a close, and Jemima started coming to acknowledge the fact that now, unless she were to hop onto a plane to America or something to that effect, she wouldn't be able to find new information as easily and as readily as she had been her whole life. It was tough accepting that her quest for knowledge would not go as quickly as she would like from now on, but she was fairly satisfied with what she knew. She was knowledgeable enough that if she were one day to wake up and find herself with pale-pink skin instead of ruby-red fur, she would be able to function as average, albeit more mature, teenage girl.

Though sometimes, you can still catch her asking Old Deuteronomy new questions. Neither of them minds the nostalgia or the opportunity to talk.

Description
The following contains fanfictions from the following fandoms, in the order that they appear:
Pokemon Special/ Adventures manga
Homestuck
CATS the musical

---

10. Silver

The two small children hadn't wandered too far from one another since that first day.

Not that they even could; their new master kept the two of them together. In face, the brunette couldn't remember seeing the other children since her arrival. It was always him by her side. And they didn't want to break apart. They were all the comfort they had in this place.

One night, about a week after the girl's arrival, were they in a place quiet enough to get the chance to talk.

"You are nice," her new friend told her, the mask they were wearing muffling their voice somewhat.

"Thank you," she replied. "I think you are nice, too."

There was a silence, suggesting either thought or a smile from her partner. With the mask on, it was impossible to see her friend's face. They were so young that it was hard to tell by their voice if they were male or female. She never bothered to ask. It didn't matter to her.

She did want something to call them by, though.

"What is your name?" she asked.

The child beside her turned their head to her. "I tell you mine if you tell me yours."

"Okay. My name is Blue."

"Blue…" her friend repeated, testing the name on their tongue. "Blue's a funny name."

"Hey!" She made a face behind her mask. "Well, tell me your name, then!"

There was a pause. Part of Blue wondered if her friend wasn't going to give her their name. If that happened, she decided, she would just keep asking and asking until they gave her their name.

But that plan wouldn't get put to use. "Silver," they said.

"Really?" she asked. "That's a funny name!"

"Hey!" her friend cried, pushing her a little bit. Blue let out an "ouch", but started laughing; they hadn't pushed her too hard.

"Why are you called Silver, though?" she inquired.

More silence from her companion. "I dunno," they replied after a minute or so.

The girl got an idea. "Let me see something," she told him, getting back onto her feet. Her friend stood there, likely confused, as she pushed their face into hers so she could discover if she could see through the eye- and mouth-holes.

Not much could be seen, but she did see the answer to her question.

"I guess Silver is a good name for you," she corrected herself: "You have silver eyes."

Apparently they had been looking at her as well. "And you have blue," he informed her.

Not long after, their master called them to where he was, with instructions to bring their Poké Balls. Neither complained – they knew of the consequences by now – but they made sure to keep close to each other.

One was never seen without the other for many years. Once they got older, they did part ways, but they never forgot the other's name - or their eyes.

Blue.

Silver.

---

11. Prepared

"Is everything ready?"

She paced around the now-clean house. There was a clean room upstairs waiting for a guest to arrive and find a place to sleep. The cellar was packed with non-perishable goods, and some alcohol for good measure. There was a television on the main floor, as well as one in the bedroom, with instructional and educational videos made by herself that she hoped the future resident would see. Everything on her end of the line was perfect for the new arrival.

"Ready-ish."

She glared at the phone she held in her hand. The entire screen displayed a picture of the one she was talking to, with a small rectangle in the corner that showed her what her face looked like. She looked fairly calm, but she kept her emotions locked up behind a pair of quick lips.

"What do you mean, Dave? You are either ready or not ready, and you had promised me you would be ready by today."

"I know, I know," her conversational partner insisted, any hint of emotion hidden behind his dark glasses. "I know I'd said I'd be ready, but give me a break! I dunno what kids like to eat!"

Her lavender eyes narrowed. "Junk food. Children like sugar and fatty foods. But don't just stash the pantry with that: he'll need proper nutrients if he wishes to survive."

He seemed to be pondering this advice, pressing his lips together. "D'you think I could just chuck a whole bunch of soda in there and call it good?"

"Dave, if you do that, the child will not have enough to last him a week, let alone twenty years."

"Why does he even need twenty years of food, anyway, Rose? He should be able to take care of himself by thirteen, at least!"

She was clearly getting angry. "With no other humans around for miles to teach him how to fend for himself? You know what; do what you want, and then we'll see how that works."

"Fine, fine, I'll go buy some more crap."

"Thank you. That aside, how is the rest of the house?"

"I've made sure that all he needs is on one level, as you've requested. There's a bed and a TV and all that good shit."

Rose was starting to loosen up. "Thank you. Nice to know I don't have to guide you through every part of this. I was beginning to think I would be not only responsible for this child, but for yours as well. Maybe I would be adding a third child to the party?" She raised her eyebrows in a teasing fashion.

He rolled his eyes, allowing a sliver of red iris to be seen over the tops of his shades. "Yeah, yeah. Anyway, are you ready?"

"Yes. The child's future establishment is prepared."

"I knew your house would be ready," Dave informed her. "I was asking if you were ready for the fight."

She sighed. "Dave, you and I both know it's no use preparing for a battle; we're not going to win."

Was that… a smile tugging at the corners of his lips? "Yeah, I know. But hey, we've gotta do the best we can. Maybe we can put some dents in her a bit before getting ourselves killed. It's like in video games: when you're up against the final boss with allies on your side, the allies are sent up first so that even if they die, at least the main guy will have an easier time beating the final boss."

"…Huh." She was impressed. "Seems like a suitable comparison. And I assume we are the hypothetical 'allies' in this equation?" A nod from Strider. "That would make Dirk and Roxy the 'main guys', correct?"

"Right again."

"Centuries will probably heal any wounds inflicted on her, Dave."

"We don't know that for sure."

Rose couldn't help but laugh. "I appreciate your optimism." Her face shone with determination. "Alright, I give in. I am prepared to fight the Batterwitch."

"That's what I like to hear!"

---

12. Knowledge

It was certainly true that wisdom comes with age.

Old Deuteronomy was a prime example of this. He'd lived several lives more that should be allowed for a cat; he'd been to so many places and seen so many things that he was easily as knowledgeable as several humans. Perhaps not Stephen Hawking-level intelligence, but he certainly knew enough that if he were to one day wake up and discover himself in a human's body, he'd know enough to be able to function as a normal human of his age, with only minor slip-up such as trying to clean himself with his tongue. He had gained all this knowledge simply by living.

Jemima was, so far, the youngest member of the Jellicle Tribe. Last Jellicle Ball, the Ball where Grizabella was chosen to ascend to the Heaviside Layer, had been Jemima's second Ball; she would have been about 14 were she human, and she had been the only one to fully understand Old Deuteronomy's Moments of Happiness speech, to the point that she was able to help the other Jellicles to understand the old leader.

How could it be that the youngest cat was equal to, or at least very close to the oldest cat in the Junkyard in terms of knowledge?

Rephrasing the above statement, knowledge can not only come with age, but it can equally come with youth. More specifically, curious youth.

Ever since she was able to walk, Jemima had always been observing the world around her with wide eyes and an open mind. She'd learned how trees grew, how the wind blew, how ladybugs flew, simply by asking her parents or siblings – though her parents were arguably more reliable sources (no, Mungojerrie, the wind is not trees sneezing). The simplest way to learn anything, and the best way to begin.

Though there were some questions they couldn't answer, and it didn't matter how many times she would badger them for the answer, they just never knew.

If that ever happened, she'd keep asking around the Tribe until she found someone with an answer. Usually, if Skimbleshanks didn't know the answer, Old Deuteronomy would likely be the only one who did. And that was fine, since they rather enjoyed each other's company: Jemima displayed an eagerness to learn that Old D hadn't seen in a young cat for quite some time, and he liked that; the Jellicle Leader never questioned why the young kit wanted to know what she did, and she liked that. An odd pair, sure, but it was a pair that worked.

Sometimes the ruby-red Queen-kit would beg her older siblings to take her with them during their excursions. They'd never make her steal anything, but she was often brought along as a diversion for the humans. Everyone loves a cute little kitten, right? The humans would always take her into their arms when they saw her on the doorstep and would bring her in and pet her and stroke her and talk to her. Jemima would always work hard to try to understand what they were saying to her. After a few months, everything began to fall into place for the threesome: the calico duo would get what they wanted – material objects with zero complications; their sister got what she needed – more learning material. An odd way to learn, but she loved it.

After a while, she began to get bored of helping Mungojerrie and Rumpelteazer. Her mother got the idea to start letting her tag along during her sessions with the mice. Jennyanydots taught her students skills that a human would find pleasing: music, crocheting, tatting, and the like. Her daughter was intrigued; new customs from an almost-new culture. Soon just sitting and watching wasn't enough, she had to try some of the lessons for herself. Jenny was more than happy to take her offspring in as a student, and in less than six months, Jemima was almost as good as the mice her mother had been teaching for years. She was definitely a speedy learner, and an eager one at that.

The problem with being a speedy learner, though, is that if you try as hard as she had been you soon run out of local material to learn from. She began yearning more and more for new information, new experiences. Her father decided that now, at the equivalent of 13 years old, his youngest daughter was old enough to accompany him on the train. She leapt at the proposal. (Mungo and Teazer promply complained since they'd never been allowed on the train – and with good reason, as Skimble did not want any of the passengers to disembark the train with fewer things than they boarded with.) The voyage took the better part of two months, and so many new people wanted to take Jemima in their laps and pet her while they talked amongst themselves; she'd go on patrol with her father at night, bombarding him with questions as to what the humans were saying. Sometimes the brown-tailed cat would have to shoo her away so he could carry out his duties in peace. When this happened, she would find herself an empty compartment to climb into and stare out the window at all the new landmarks whizzing by. Skimbleshanks would sometimes find her there, curled up into a ball, asleep at a window; it was always the first place he looked.

The train trip came to a close, and Jemima started coming to acknowledge the fact that now, unless she were to hop onto a plane to America or something to that effect, she wouldn't be able to find new information as easily and as readily as she had been her whole life. It was tough accepting that her quest for knowledge would not go as quickly as she would like from now on, but she was fairly satisfied with what she knew. She was knowledgeable enough that if she were one day to wake up and find herself with pale-pink skin instead of ruby-red fur, she would be able to function as average, albeit more mature, teenage girl.

Though sometimes, you can still catch her asking Old Deuteronomy new questions. Neither of them minds the nostalgia or the opportunity to talk.