Ecce Romani [c]

There was a place all cats feared, where a wicked twoleg trapped in her den helpless victims who drew too close, never to see the light of day again. They say the cats in there are so starved they eat each other's kittens. Quintus Caecilius Regius was one of those unfortunates, and he could attest that he himself was nibbled on at least twice.

The first thing he saw was the dull sunlight of morning. Right now, with his eyes half-closed in sleepiness, Quintus could imagine he was in his childhood home, cuddled up in his favorite bed. Then his eyes opened further and saw the ugly truth. Dozens upon dozens of scraggly, mange-ridden cats crowded every available surface. The rancid stench of dung and trash weighed heavy in the air. That light he saw was coming through a dirty cracked window that looked like it hadn't been cleaned in years. "Day thirty," he sighed. Has it really been thirty days? Or has he been here forever? He couldn't tell the difference anymore.

Well, time to go through his daily routine. Quintus got up. Bumped into five different strangers surrounding him. Tried to stretch. Stepped on someone's tail. Got hissed at. Hissed back. Checked the food bowl. Bowl had been empty for two days. Squeeze his way towards the window, where he liked to sit. Squabbled with a black cat for a spot. And finally, finally, sat down and got to breathe.

Quintus could check his appearance much better in the sunlight than in the darkness that drenched the rest of the house. It wasn't looking good. His fur, once cream and soft with regular brushings, was now a rangy brown. His oversized claws desperately needed a clipping. Seeing himself in such disrepair left a heavy feeling in the Siamese's heart. He used to be taken care of. He used to live in a nice neighborhood with cheerful neighbors who spoke of faraway groups of cats. And then he had to be a fool and look for them.

It wasn't like he could do anything about it now. He was trapped here for the rest of his life. The end. Ready to relinquish his coveted spot on the windowsill, Quintus Caecilius took one last mournful look outside.

Wait a second.

Was that...

"... A cat?"

He could barely see it through the warped glass, but he swore, he swore there was someone on the other side. He didn't know who or what or he or she or anything, but they were most certainly there. "Hey," he whispered, and then-- "HEY!" He banged his deformed paws on the windowsill. The loud noise startled the other cats, whose yowls joined his own. "YOU! CAT! Don't leave us here! Save us!"

It was a shot in the dark, but it was a shot he was going to take.

Harvey hadn't been able to go on a walk in a while.

He had gotten a little too comfortable going out every night, it seemed- it was only a matter of time before he lost track of when are where he was. The big monster he had been thrown into stunk like fear and made his hair stand up for days. Worse still, he spent two days in a terrible nest full of skinny, mange-ridden cats who swiped and hissed at him until his owner had found him and took him home. He was starving, in pain, and afraid, but his owner still seemed to be upset with him- they had clipped his nails (the first time they had ever done that to him) and had sheathed them in terrible little prisons. They were uncomfortable and clacked against the floor when he ran, and Harvey hadn't been able to get a firm grip on anything since he had been brought home.

He hadn't left his owner's side for at least a week out of fear. Though, of course, it has been proved time and time again that it was exceedingly difficult to knock the adventure out of little Harvey. His owner had slept in today, and Harvey had slipped through a hole he had managed to dig himself. His fence hole had been patched, unfortunately, and it had taken quite a long time for Harvey to dig with these claw prisons on.

Though finally free again, Harvey was still wary of staying out too long, so he had supplemented his usual leisurely pace for a quick dash. The wind felt wonderful on his face, the soft dirt on his paws- he hadn't felt that in forever it seemed. He almost ran into a tree once or twice, but that was to be expected with his focus leaving him for simple joy. House cat life was much too stuffy, food too bland. This was what Harvey lived for. Running wild.

Stumbling into a clearing, grass scratching at his flank, Harvey slowed his pace to a creep. He had never been this far.. how long had he been running? He lifted his head and twitched his whiskers. The wind was still, and the quiet was almost eerie. Bright sunlight filtered into Harvey's blurry vision- he could see the outline of a twoleg nest nestled into the treeline. That was strange.. Harvey was almost certain no twolegs built nests this far. Creeping closer with his belly low, the kittypet kept his ears and whiskers alert for any sounds or movement, gathering nothing but stillness until-

Was that a cat.. yelling at him?

Harvey's head shot up and swiveled around wildly- he had to find where this voice was coming from! He sounded like he needed help, and Harvey loved to play the hero. His ears flattened a little; if this cat needed help, this twoleg nest must be dangerous! Harvey couldn't stay here long- heroes aren't much help if they're in danger too.

"Hello? Harvey called out, a little louder than he intended. Too late now, he supposed. "Where are you? I can't see real well, you see, but- well- I can hear! I can try and follow your voice, if that's okay! My name's Harvey by the way, to the rescue!"

Quintus felt a huge weight lift off his shoulders when the stranger, that coveted stranger, responded. It wasn't just his imagination. A sudden flash of fear swept through his body-- what if the old lady heard them and captured him too? He looked behind his shoulder at the dingy entranceway to the bedroom, which was overflowing with trash. Still snoring. Good. They should be okay-- for a while.

"Hi Harvey!" Quintus pawed at the glass, trying to smear some of the dirt away. It was partially successful, so now if he really squinted he could make out a tortoiseshell tom. "I'm Quintus! I'm stuck here, uh, in the house! With a lot of other cats!" He normally wasn't this nice, but he needed this opportunity to stay desperately.

He strained his head to see the edge of the outside windowsill. The other cats were staring at him bizarrely now, muttering amongst themselves. "There's a... hmm... well, there's a wall, I can tell you that! And a window, where I'm at. I can't see any way to get through..."

He noticed a rat scurrying outside. It disappeared out of view, and then a few moments later was inside, squirming among the cats. "The rat holes!" he gasped. "Er-- I'm inside, so I can't do anything, but there are some cracks in the walls the rats come through! If you could do something to open it up, that would be great! Maybe something in the trash can help?"

"Or, you know, you could crash through the window. That could do the job too."

This had to be the most excitement Harvey's felt since the time a bird got stuck in his owner's kitchen. There really was a cat there, and he needed saving! He said he wasn't alone, which was a little nerve wracking, but there was no way the tom would back out now. He finally found an adventure, after all this time. The mystery cat mentioned rat-holes; Harvey was a self proclaimed expert of those! Trying not to look too giddy, the small tom stumbled a ways forward until his whiskers touched a cracked wooden wall. Trash littered the ground and the foul smell emanating from the house started to make Harvey's nose twitch, but he continued to press forward until one of his capped paws found a small hole. Too small for a regular cat-- too small for even Harvey-- he realized with a sigh, and the kittypet rested his paws on the paneling to push himself forwards and continue on. He stopped dead when he felt and heard the wood crack and splinter under his weight-- The house was so old and decrepit the wood was rotting away! He pushed harder, his nail caps breaking with the wood, and after a few moments of prodding, Harvey could stick his head through! Another push, and his shoulders go next-- the smell was overwhelming now, and Harvey blanched-- allowing his slim body to completely wiggle through into the house. His senses were in overdrive, trash and smells and cats everywhere, but he managed to make a few movements forward. A couple skeletonized cats were in his way, unable to move, and he tripped and fell all over them. They hissed and spat and clawed at his face, but Harvey managed to squeeze into an area where the light could enter his eyes. The blurry silhouette of a cat stood on the windowsill, in better shape then the others but surely not doing too well.

Harvey couldn't contain himself. "Hey! I managed to break through, but I'm not sure if it's big enough for you! It took a bit of squeezing for me, and I'm pretty small!" The tortoiseshell tom grinned a toothy smile in what he hoped was the other toms direction. "What's your name? You seem pretty lost! Are you a house cat too?

A heavy blanket of silence fell over the hoarder cats as Harvey popped out of the rat hole, dozens of eyes staring straight at the intruder. All prior activity stopped. This uncomfortable staring contest continued for several awkward seconds until Quintus broke it with a shout of glee:

"Thank Nero, thank Nero! Harvey, you did it!"

Up came an uproar. The cats had seen plenty come in, but never voluntarily. They began to shout over each other, demanding answers, asking questions.

"Who are you?!"

"Where did you come from? Are you from Outside?"

"You!" The black cat from before spun to face Quintus. "What have you brought upon us?!" He felt the hairs on his back bristle at the question. "I'm trying to--"

All attention was immediately seized by a loud THUMP. A skinny stray, one who had seen the outside world before, launched himself at the rat hole only to get his head stuck in the small crevice. His claws skidded on plastic bags as he tried to free himself. "Well, there goes the exit," Quintus raised a paw to his forehead. It wasn't like he could've used it, anyways-- as Harvey said, it was too small for him. "But yes, I am Quintus Caecilius Regius. And no, I am not lost. This is where I am trapped. The blockheads around me are my fellow prisoners. We've been here a while. You can thank the Woman for that."

The stuck feline pulled his head out with a crack of the rotten walls. Worse was the groaning now coming from the bedroom, a sign the owner of the house was waking up. Everyone stopped in their tracks. Quintus' heart jumped into his throat. "The Woman," he whispered. She certainly wasn't up yet, but she would be soon, and any action they make would only hasten the process. And if she saw Harvey...

Quintus looked frantically around. Trash. Cans. More trash. The front door, which she only ever opened in emergencies. Hmm... "Harvey-" his voice was urgent, but quiet. "There's a twoleg in the next room who will trap you here forever if she sees you. There's also a door some... say, ten leaps in front of you. I've only seen her open it twice. Most of us feel hopeless against the Woman- some have never seen the outside world, and those that have forgot what it looked like long, long ago. But you have, haven't you? You have a collar, and you said you are a house cat. If you can tell everyone what it's like being out there in the sunshine, having someone love you, really rally them up... maybe we can chase her out of her own home. And then we'll be free."

"Of course, that's a lot to put on your shoulders. I just met you, after all. If you want to leave, the hole's still there, and I won't blame you."

---

OOC: lmk if you have any questions because whoo boy i have no idea what i'm doing with this post. Snail would like to post after this with Gnat, if that's okay ^_^

Gnat had been nestled in their favorite hiding spot- the ratty, stained sofa that smelled Extremely Unpleasant. The gap underneath it was large enough for the smaller residents to fit under- kits and rats, namely. The rats proved fierce competition, but Gnat found it to be unoccupied this morning, and took solace in that.

They pawed at their bad ear, and then at their used-to-be-good-but-now-its-also-bad ear. Foul smelling liquid welled from either ear, and the left one drooped from swelling- swelling that rendered them utterly unable to hear from that side. And with the other ear following the same route, all sound was muffled and distant, like someone had crammed their ears full of stuffing. But the swelling of voices broke through, and they could see the hectic activity pause, which was unusual and rather eerie. A rat took this opportunity to scramble under the couch and snap at Gnat's tail, chasing them from their little safe-haven. They quickly looked around, looking for somewhere new to hide. Or maybe someone to hide behind. They scanned the crowd- Big mean black cat. Brownish cat with weird paws. Dusty white-furred cat who they swore was growing mold. Black-and-orange stranger with creepy eyes. The weird-pawed cat seemed to be talking the most, and looked like he knew what he was doing, so Gnat scrambled over to him, and then paused to take in the scene.

Everyone was staring at the ghost-eyed cat. One of the rat holes had been torn open behind him, and a cat stuck their face in and struggled to free themself. He obviously couldn't fit, but Gnat was only moderately bigger than a rat. They could squeeze through, assuming that a rat didn't contest them for the position like with The Smelly Sofa.

Freedom?

But what was even outside? They didn't like the uncertainty. But- it HAD to be better than this, right?

Harvey almost completely relied on his ears and sense of smell and touch to get around. It had been like that since he was just a kit, and it didn't hinder him much, except for moments like this. He was drowning in fur and sound, trampled on and screamed by atrocious smelling cats while the small tom tried to wiggle his way closer to the fuzzy shape of Quintus. He had the high ground and authority laced in his meow, yet was telling poor Harvey to incite a riot? From what little light reached his eyes and the rancid breath that fanned his flank, these terrible cats towered over him. They swarmed him like flies, blotting out the bright sun and what little of Quintus Harvey could hold on to-- sharp, cracked teeth nipped at his legs and ears, claws scratched at his sides, wide maws yowled incoherencies. The kittypet truly was drowning. It was getting much harder to breathe.

Amongst the chaos, a little body had wormed its way into Harvey, though didn't go on the offense like he had expected. They just seemed to be huddled there, shaken. How had he managed to get over to Harvey anyway? He had to have been tiny.

Just what Harvey needed. The kittypet briefly prayed to whoever would listen that the little kit would pity him.

"Hey you!| Harvey whisper-yelled into what he hoped was the kits ear. "Can you help me? I need you to get up on that windowsill, seriously-- that cat up there needs you to help him, 'cause I'm pretty stuck right now. Please?"