[soupnsalad]

name:
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level: 0
EXP: 0

[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.

____________________________________________________________________________________________

it's been awhile, wow. well here's a snow leopard-ish kid. to win explain why they're crying. extras and prettying up is allowed.
ends nov. 19th

Code: Select all

username:
name:
gender:
role:
guild:
prompt:

[Wings.mov]

username:
name:
gender:
role:
guild:
prompt:

wip ;;

[Always Sunny]

username: Kelia Dragonfire
name: Aphrodite
gender: Female
role: Fighter
guild: The Night Lights
prompt:
Aphrodite had lived alone her whole life. With no one around to side with her, or no parents to help her, she has always been disrespected, because of her unusual pelt color. As she walked through the muddy field, with trees all around, she noticed that autumn had decorated it to look like some kind of fairy tale. Fiery trees, orange colored paths. It really looked wonderful. All around her, she would smell the nice, sweet smell of cinnamon, pumpkins and fresh autumn leaves on the ground.
She wanted it to stay like that forever. The magical fairy tale in the world of reality, cruelty and sadness. As she walked into the open fields, something caught her eye. It was a giant field of daisies, with sunlight shining upon it. All of them were clumped together, like a big family. Aphrodite couldn't help, but smile. As she was about to leave, she noticed a big yellow flower, standing out, towering above the rest. It was proudly standing in the middle of the field, bright with its yellow colors, just being itself. Aphrodite couldn't help but start to cry. She knew that if a flower could be different from the rest, so could she.

[Fever dreams]

Username talonpawthewarrior
Cat name cliff
Gender female
Rank forager
Guild the arrow runners (link in my signature)
Prompt

Cliff sighed. The world outside of the caves was beautiful. It smelled of ginger and sweet maple sap. The warm sunshine and the gentle breeze ruffled the fur along her spine. She could hear the honking of geese flying in V formation. She could taste the crisp freshness of it all. As she padded along the well-worn routine trails with the other foragers she saw birds flitter from tree to tree. The sunlight filtered through gaps in the leaves. It was all so mesmerizing.

She remembered her life out here, with her parents and her brother. Her mom would stitch cloth and clean and her father would hunt down hares and chickens. Her brother was always full of mischief, rolling in the dirt and ripping his scarf which he wore everywhere. She would climb up to the thinnedt brances of the tallest trees in the orchard and pick fruit for pies. Life had been simple.

But then the humans had come and spoiled everything. They had to grab the few things that mattered most and leave. They were forced away by the destruction of the orchard and crops. They scared away all the animals. They had wandered for a few days when they met some catalenians who took them underground and they joined a guild. Her brother became a fighter and her father and mother are retired now.

As she peered around she wiped her damp face, tears soaking into her cheek fur. Though she was grateful they had found the catalena, she still mourned what should have been. She missed apple picking days spent outside skinning a knee, to come inside to find that her father had a juicy hare and her mother had cooked it up nicely, warming every hair on her pelt. She knew that it would always bring tears to her eyes when she thought of her home.

[Breado]

username: Breado
name: Selene
gender: F
role: mage
guild: [url=#]Lamplighters[/url]
prompt:

Wip

[CyaNyxTime]

Mark!!

[.sins.]

username: .sins.
name: Rhoma (Rho)
gender: female
role: forager
guild: Lazarus Rising
prompt:
Rho had finally found where her brother was after years of searching. Hysan had left to study as a monk and never made it to his once a year meeting with his family, making her worry and she went in search of him. Having finally found him and seeing that he built a new home for those that were lost and lone, she sent word to their parents. She couldn't believe that after all this time searching he was by the one place she should have looked first.

[mystical-maniac]

username: mystic-canine
name: snow falling (snow for short)
gender: male
role: Mage
guild: dawn-light wanderers
prompt:
snow once lived on the surface of the earth, far away from where he lives now. he was just another cat running around in the sun and pouncing on his mother's tail. one morning he woke up and did not see his mother next to him, he walked out of the den and saw his mother sitting on a tree branch. snow jumped up and tried to get on the branch, but his mother did not even look at him. his mother looked towards the rising sun and sighed "we have to go now..." she said quietly. snow looked up at his mother, he was confused. why would they have to leave? did he do something wrong? his mother signaled for him to follow her and he ran towards her.

a few years later snow had became used to traveling. by this time he knew why he had to leave, it was due to a wolf pack chasing his mother. his mother always told him he should start his own life and leave her by herself, she thought she was a huge burden to him. every time she brought it up he would roll his eyes. he could never imagine life without his mother, she was pretty much his only source of happiness. during one of their travels snow's mother ran into a old merchant trying to sell some oddly shaped rocks for herbs. the merchant told the two a story he had heard about a underground cave full of cats. snow believed that it was just a rumor but his mother told him they had to go.

"that cat told us that cave was near here..." snow grumbled. his mother sighed and began to speak "it can't be to far, we need to keep-" suddenly she had a look of shock. snow looked behind himself and went silent. behind him were wolves, a whole pack of wolves. snow took one look at the alpha wolf and knew they were the wolves chasing his mother. years ago his mother had scratched the leader, leaving a scar that was never forgotten. snow and his mother soon began to fight back against the wolves but the wolves won the fight. they left snow with a large scar but his mother was not so lucky. she passed away minutes after the battle. her last wish was for snow to find a better home.

snow searched for months until he found Catalena, when he found the cave he just knew it was the right one. as he traveled down into the cave he thought of his mother, he wished she could see this. his mother only ever wanted him to be safe, she rarely made a choice for her own safety. the one time she wanted to do somewhere she never made it. he sighed and continued down the tunnel until he found himself inside of Catalena. he could feel the happiness around him as he walked around, it was almost like his mother was right next to him with a huge grin on her face. he smiled for the first time in months, "i made it mother, i really did..." he spoke quietly as his eyes filled with tears

[Placebo]

username: placebo
name: Shiloh
gender: Male
role: Forager
guild: The Ryft
prompt:

"Why are you crying?"

"I hurt… and I am so, so tired."

"My scars hurt."

He wakes in the way one who can never quite fall asleep comes awake. The never quite-healed scars tear under his skin, and clawless paws rake the cold earth. He doesn’t make a sound, but the tail in his mouth suffers through yet another grooming, and a purr rattles in his throat. The stress in his body doesn’t abate. Nor does the sharp pain. The methods he once used to calm himself down, distract him from the pain, don’t work anymore.

He wonders if they ever will again.

It’s very cold out here.

"My feet hurt."

The hiss of an irate ice spirit, always on the wind, ever watching, yanks him out of his rest. He’s got work to do, he knows this. This is the price he must pay for his life. He starts the long trek into Catalena.

He’s long stopped wondering who, or what, the ice spirit might be. Maybe it’s the remains of an furious Catalan mage. Never satisfied, but ever-cruel to those in its snare.

Maybe it was once a freezesprite. Killed by cats and now on the hunt for those foolish enough to do its bidding. Like him.

The path is unforgiving. Sharp gravel sticks under his paws and reopens gashes with his steps. No matter how much he digs the rocks from between his toes, new ones take their place. It’s a path he knows well.

It’s not one he loves.

"My ears hurt."

Hours, hours later. And he hears it start. Amidst the life, the warmth of the movement, the whispers of the catalans in the heart of the city reach his ears. And only when he walks by.

No one walks in his path, sensing that he’s just the slightest bit— off. He pulls the cloak tighter around his ears, like it could drown out their words. He approaches a shop keep. She’s wary as well, and her snappish voice remains suspicious.

Speak up, she bites, you daft tom, my word. His ears shrink between his shoulders. Even in life, he could never grow bolder, and now they dismiss him for it. He gets what he came for, clutched in knuckles gone pale. The shopkeep keeps her distance, and her eyes merely follow his paw as he places the coins, given to him by the ice spirit for this only task, on the counter.

She won’t touch his fingers. He turns away as quickly as he comes. The whispers continue.

"My eyes hurt."

He returns to the spirit’s keep. The blast of cold air hurts his eyes.

He’s learned to hate the cold, and the icy beauty only makes it crueler. He feels he would love it, in any other circumstance.

The cloak does nothing for the chill in his bones. The city, even with its whispers, let him forget. Even for a little while.

He hates this pain. This ever-lasting, biting cold. Never quite to the point of numbness. No relief. No escape.

He blinks away the film.

"My skin hurts."

He’s given no warning.

The spirit hisses again and snatches the item out of his paws before it dissipates. It leaves nothing but crystalline, piercing ice on his paw pads, and he frantically brushes it off with trembling, frostbitten paws. It always comes as a shock to him, no matter how many times it happens.

Where everything else in this place remains cold, lifeless, in this one time. This one instance.

It burns.

"My mind hurts."

The spirit steals the cloak from him whenever he tries to enter its domain with it. Shreds it to pieces right before his eyes, and leaves him bare until he’s able to steal another threadbare sheet from the city again. He’s learned to hide it on the rocky trail into the city.

He knows why the spirit does it. It isn’t like he needs the cloak. And definitely not where it could sully the purity of the spirit's keep.

The ice hurts, but will never kill him. He’s died once before to it.

It won’t claim him again.

But it’s the only thing he has. The only thing he can keep. His only shield.

He’s been reduced to an instrument, and he wonders why.

Why did he agree to this? To what end is he to be an eternal fetchboy?

As he lays down, the train of thought enters his mind like clockwork, each and every night.

And leaves, sluggish and tired, much the same way.

And the circle begins anew.

"My heart hurts."

He sleeps in the way that one who can never quite sleep drifts off. As still as the day he died, he thinks. He nightdreams, in the way most cats might daydream.

He imagines the pitter-patter of paws against the earth around him. The mews of merry voices filling his ears, crooning his name, calling for him. The nearly-forgotten memory of warmth. The image of breaking from his chains. Escaping the spirit’s pact. Living once again.

The thoughts bring no comfort.

The chill settles deeper into his heart.

He wakes in the way...

"You think I'm a crybaby… but is it so bad?

That I want just a touch of relief?"

_____________________________________________________________

Shiloh’s eyes widened. The heat emanating from Pyrites paws left pinpricks against Shiloh’s skin as the tom pulled Shiloh onto the higher cliff.

“Great stars above, your paws are like ice.”

Shiloh struggled to meet Pyrite’s eyes as it was, and now he felt the seed of embarrassment grow in his stomach and the familiar pressure behind his eyes. When he was stable, the move to pull back his paws from Pyrite’s grasp was instinctive as it was quick, and he nearly locked his arms to his side before Pyrite snagged his hands back. So warm. “Nothing wrong with that! Sorry, my mouth just goes sometimes, I know you look miserable enough as it is. Nothing wrong with that either, I mean—“ The tom cut himself off with a click of his tongue, and dropped Shiloh’s paws anyway. “Just, come on. We don’t have to stay out here any longer than we have to. You need more help up this way?”

Shiloh shook his head. Just the fact that he was on this trek was jarring and surreal enough as it is, but this place, this rock formation looked at least a little bit familiar. He could do this much, at least. It was close to the trail he took that lead straight to the city. “We should be good from here,” Shiloh started, and walked to heave himself over an icy, jutting rock, “There’s a trail that leads…” Shiloh stilled as he took in his surroundings.

“Leads where?”

“The trail, it’s… it’s supposed to be right here. I know this area.”

Pyrite passed him an odd look as he joined the silvery tom up on the boulder. “There isn’t a path or natural road for kilometers. I sure as hell would’ve needed it coming up this way,” The dark tom trailed off with a grumble. “For such a bleak place, it’s like a maze.”

“There’s always been a trail here.” Shiloh didn’t think that the lack of something so simple, so static, could make him feel this lost. His tail found its way into his trembling fingers. 

“Must’ve been connected to that ice spirit we cast out.” Pyrite’s voice snapped Shiloh from the fuzz in his mind. “Good thing we killed it in time. If it had the power to maintain a physical trail just with its presence, there’s no telling what it would’ve done if it kept expanding its influence.” 

Shiloh swallowed around a dry mouth. Was I aiding its growth in power this whole time? 

Shiloh violently flinched when he felt the brush of heat against his shoulder. Pyrite, to his credit, only twitched at the movement and held his tongue at Shiloh’s silent distress. Pyrite moved to brush the barest hints of snow from the silvery tom’s shoulders. Even that slight touch was warm. “That thing’s dead now, it won’t do anymore damage. But, your magic will keep leaking over if you stress yourself out. If you keep icing yourself over you’ll give yourself hypothermia before we even leave this snowy domain.”

My magic? Sure enough, when Shiloh peered at a bare shoulder, crystalline ice formed on his fur right before his eyes. But… 

He should be grateful that the banishment of the spirit meant he finally got his powers back, powers he lost long ago, but the sight only made him nauseous. The prickle behind his eyes came back anew, and he quickly averted his eyes. Pyrite was silent for the few heartbeats of Shiloh’s realization, and when the silvery tom looked up, Pyrite's mismatched eyes were unreadable. 

“Here, don’t worry about us getting out of here. I left a few markers here and there on my way in here, and I can get us both out and back to civilization no problem,” Pyrite mewed, “We can figure out what to do from there. How does that sound?”

“...Alright.”

[soupnsalad]

i fell sick so this is a bit late, sorry!! but this is now closed. i'll get around to judging tmrrw.