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| Artist | GODEATER [gallery] |
| Time spent | 1 day, 14 hours |
| Drawing sessions | 3 |
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CATACOMBS wrote:[ main thread ]
The catacombs are a vast underground network of tunnels, only accessible by a few select spots on the surface.
Ancient cats carved and explored these tunnels through centuries of hard work. At the heart of the catacombs
is a nook bustling with life: Catalena. Here cats live harmoniously in groups called guilds, in which every memb-
er has it's own special role. There are merchants, barbarians, witches, foragers, every type of citizen you could
imagine. Everyone contributes to Catalena in their own way and keeps it safe for the cats that live there.
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prompt:“You know… when you told me your real leg story was immortalized, I wasn’t really expecting all… this.”
“Yeah, they really overdid it sometimes, even if it wasn’t too long ago. And they really didn’t get my good angle, hmm…” Sinai raised a paw to rub at his chin, like showing off the actual glass mosaic of his (supposed) valiant exploits was just a part of his regular Thursday.
Maybe it was part of his usual routine. Great stars above, what was up with this guy. And he was supposed to be some sort of ascended cat who gained immortality in his youth.
...Was he a cult leader?
Antioch couldn’t withhold his grimace. Not even two hours ago, he had to sit through the sob story of this guy losing his leg to a horrid flesh-eating disease he only barely survived. A sob story an entire crowd ate up.
Antioch spared another glance at the intricately pieced mosaic, depicting an eternal struggle between the cat sitting next to him an a fictitious serpent. Among the ruins of the once gorgeous mural, the serpent had a hold of the cat’s leg. The gold gleam from the natural cave light shown through the cracks in the walls and gave the inside of the altar an almost over-worldly glow.
Though ethereal when he walked in, it just looked gaudy now. Like the worst case of overcompensation he’s ever had to witness.
“Yeah… who? Are you supposed to be, exactly.” Antioch glowered at the pompous figure.
Sinai puffed his chest. “I’m whatever you want me to be.” Antioch definitely caught the easily subtle deflection in the answer. “A politician who had a run-in with some bad debt, looking to gain a quick buck in the black market, a poor, hapless war veteran, still hung up on his old tales of woes of fighting cave dragons in the deepest depths… or even a damn fairy tale. Take your pick, I’ve used them all.” Sinai practically snorted as he finished. Like being fake was something to be proud of.
Why was Antioch here again? He didn’t have to sit here listening to this con artist come up with yet another fabricated story.
Wait a second. He didn’t have to sit here.
“Wait, where are you going?”
“Leaving. I’m not wasting my time listening to a liar touting a story that changes depending on the time of day.”
Sinai was quick to block Antioch’s path with a simpering flick to his tail and a desperate, pleading look in his eyes. “Well now, let’s not get too hasty!”
“Less hasty and more just being, yanno, smart.” Antioch drawled, and pointedly stepped around Sinai’s form.
Antioch was stopped again, this time with the tom’s back paw. Sinai deftly slid around Antioch’s reflexes to stop him yet again, and Antioch took half a second to be mildly impressed at the maneuver— wait, no.
The bulkier tom bared his teeth.
“There are literally hundreds of other guilds you could weasel your way into. Leave. me. be.”
“Please, if you’ll just give me a few minutes— no, seconds— to pitch my case. Y-you said you were looking for new guild members, right?” Sinai stated with an uncertain laugh, “A new, up and coming founder like yourself could use someone like me, you know. Someone who could show you a thing or two about how to navigate Catalena’s upper sphere. I could make you unstoppable. You’d be surprised how much this region could change in just 60 years—“
Antioch’s glare seemed to stop Sinai (wide-eyed, lost, by the stars he looked like Hama) in his tracks. Good. “I won’t have my guild’s foundation be built on blatant lies and deceit. Find some other hapless guild to con.”
Antioch made it three entire steps before a crash behind him make him look back. Sinai had shifted one of the boulders in the ruins to reveal a glowing, ripped tapestry clutched in his maw. Antioch’s brow furrowed in confusion at the golden tom’s frantic movements.
“Antioch, you haven’t been the first cat to barely believe a word I say, and you definitely won’t be the last, but— please. Hear me out.” Sinai unrolled the fabric. The golden woven strands glowed every time it touched Sinai’s paws and muzzle. When it unfurled to brush against Antioch’s paw, it didn’t react, but the power thrumming within each single thread resonated in his body.
Woven in the fabric was every little tale Sinai relayed to Antioch. Including a politician down on his luck, a veteran fighting for what was right… and at the very end, a shrinking version of the cat standing in front of him, curiously out of place on the drape.
Sinai shuffled his paws. The embarrassment was clear on his face, but shame was evident in the way he wouldn’t meet Antioch’s eyes. “I’ve lived too many short, unfulfilling lives to try and pass up something I know could be good. And everytime, I lose my leg, just because I was stupid enough that one first time to give it up to have a shot at true immortality. Thought I was getting the deal of a lifetime. A leg for immortality!” Sinai’s laugh hitched on his next words. “It’s not fun, I can tell you that. It’s not worth it. I haven’t had a family since my first go around, and I’m tired, Antioch. I just want a home.”
“...What makes you think I’ll be able to give you that?”
“If I’m wrong now, I’ll come back. Like I always do.”
“Who are you, Sinai?”
“I don’t know.”



Icarus was confident- too confident, some said, shaking their heads at the guildless rogue. One of these days he was going to get himself into trouble that he wouldn’t be able to handle without help.
Icarus scoffed at that. He didn’t need help. He didn’t need anyone- least of all a guild. He got by alright, taking solo missions- retrieving lost travelers or miners, finding and selling loot from the dark corners of the labyrinth, fighting off smaller monsters- that sort of thing. He was strong and fast and sure enough to tackle most anything that came his way (or so he told himself).
Until he wasn’t. Until one day he wound up in a far-flung, unstable part of the catacombs, miles away from Catalena. Until tremors had come, without warning, shaking the earth around him, causing rocks to fall and crack and shift- and one had landed on him, trapping his leg beneath him. Trapping him.
Icarus had never felt pain like that. It wasn’t like the sting of a cut or the throb of a pulled muscle. It was a crushing, sharp, agonizing pain, intensified by an unwelcome spike of fear because how was he going to get out of this? He was so far from civilization- and nobody knew where he had gone. Would they miss him? Notice the absence of the dubiously charming, reckless rogue they’d complained about? He wasn’t sure.
For about a day he lay there, unable to free himself. His throat ached with thirst- he had lost his canteen in the cave-in- and his torch had sputtered out after a matter of hours. Icarus was almost glad for the darkness- in the dark, he couldn’t see how bad his leg was.
Time seemed to slow, narrowing and focusing on him there in the deep tunnel. Icarus first felt just pain, and anger at having been injured. As he lay there it turned to fear, and then to loneliness, and then to despair. Tears he couldn’t see spattered his chest and front paws. He might have slept for a little bit,but couldn’t really remember.
After about a day he heard something. Initially he was wary, nervous about the cause of this nearing sound. It didn’t sound like a monster, but that didn’t mean that whatever-it-was was friendly. Icarus had heard the tales of the cutthroat outcasts who called themselves Caligos. He’d never before had the misfortune to encounter any, but with the way his luck was going he wouldn’t be surprised.
But Icarus was hungry and thirsty and in pain and knew that if he didn’t do something he’d most likely die down here. In his desperation, even the rogue who scorned the help of others was able to stamp down his pride to call out.
“Help! I’m trapped down here! Help!” His voice was a mere croak, cracked and dry from thirst and lack of use, but Icarus heard the faint pawsteps change direction, pattering rapidly towards him.
The cat who rounded the corner was no bandit, Icarus was instantly sure. Her fur was washed orange-gold by the firelight, but he could see stripes on her back and freckles across her nose. She had an odd assortment of small jewelry on, from a single earring to a beaded bracelet to a key hanging from a cord around her neck. It took her a few moments to spot his form in the dark, but he knew when she did from the way she tensed up and gasped sharply.
“Oh!” She ran toward him, awkwardly clasping her torch in one paw. Icarus had to squint at the unfamiliar brightness. “Are you okay?”
Icarus narrowed his eyes and gave her a ‘what do you think?’ sort of look. Her ears flattened sheepishly.
“No, no, you’re obviously not- how long have you been down here for?”
“A-about a day,” Icarus rasped. “Do you have any water?”
“Y-yes, of course!” She said hurriedly, pulling a canteen from the satchel at her side and offering it to him. Icarus grasped it between his front paws and drank deeply.
“Thank you,” he said upon finishing, the words unfamiliar in his mouth. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d thanked someone for anything.
“I- you’re stuck under those rocks, is that it?” The other cat asked, peering around him.
“My leg is,” Icarus answered. “Can you move them?”
“I don’t- I don’t think I’m strong enough,” she said. “I can go back for help, though- will you be okay here for just a little while longer? I can leave you with the canteen as well.”
Icarus had half a mind to ask for the torch as well- he quailed at the thought of sitting in darkness for any longer- but then realized she needed to be able to find her way back to Catalena. So he merely nodded in agreement before speaking again.
“Can you find your way? How long will you be gone?” He tried to keep the pleading note out of his voice.
“Not long- I promise.” At this, she placed her paw overtop his in a brief reassuring gesture. “I’ll come back.”
---
His rescuer did return, an hour or so later, with one extra helper in tow- a cat she addressed as Perin, who gave snarky responses to most everything she (whose name turned out to be Beatrix)said, but took up the task of lifting the rock without question, shoving and huffing until it lifted enough for Beatrix to pull Icarus out.
The trip back to Catalena was a long one, with Icarus supported in between Perin and Beatrix. He had to hobble on three legs, but refused to stop for a break until they finally emerged into the main city of Catalena and Beatrix insisted that he see a healer. Icarus was too tired and weak to complain.
He ended up losing the lower half of his leg- it had been too badly damaged in the collapse to have any hope of healing, especially after being pinned at an awkward angle for the better part of a day. That was a blow Icarus hadn’t ever expected.
---
Icarus was foolhardy. The citizens of Catalena all agreed on this, shaking their heads with sorrow for the crippled young rogue- and remarking that they ‘knew he’d meet up with something he couldn’t conquer, sooner or later.
Icarus also refused to be beaten. He’d always been good with his paws, and worked tirelessly to construct a new leg for himself. He may have been damaged, but he’d show them all that he wasn’t completely broken.
And Icarus found a home in a guild, which is something nobody ever expected to see happen. He settled down in a small growing guild, with a bookish mage and a disgruntled fighter who had once saved his life.
Maybe relying on others wasn’t always such a bad thing.
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1,145 words.


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