out of alkatraz (open)

Ramone had smelled some truly terrible things in their time in this dog of a world, seen quite a bit too, and experienced even more. Some places good, some places bad. This place, though... whoever said it was always good to stop and smell the roses, they hadn't been here.

'This is the sort of place mom talked about? EUGH!' They could feel their pelt getting dirtier by the minute, and the thought of that dirty old baldy picking them up and tossing them in here, it was enough to make them want to vomit. The way their claws sliced so easily through its skin almost made it pitiful, but this den, no, this hovel was no less than horrendous! Flies filled the air, taking their pick between all the different rotting piles, whatever they used to be hidden beneath trash or otherwise so far gone as to be unrecognizable. It stank, too. The type of stink where it assaults your nose and throat with every breath, acrid and sticky.  Though really, the thing that stuck out more, the thing that stared them in the face... were the faces, staring them in the face. Ghastly and haggard, eyes gleaming like rats from the stinking refuse. Stealing and imprisoning so many cats - Ramone was no type to espouse justice, but this was unacceptable! Exhausted, starving, desperate, weak and half a hair from death or already there. Honestly, it wasn't the very obvious existential cries for help all around them that pushed the ruffled-furred rogue to act, it was just straight up indignation.

'I aint wastin' away in here, I'd never hear the end of it from her if I somehow died where she'd got out! ...Love you mom, for filling me with spite even now.' A self-directed snort escaped them as they descended into thought. What did she say? '"I dug through where the wood was rotted 'til I could squeeze myself through. Some o' the little ones came out after me, so I stole them away. Better than living in that ratpit. Y'know, I don't think I ever told them I wasn't their real momma. Oh well."' Well, they were a good bit bigger than their mom ever was, but hey, it was worth a shot. Maybe the rotting wood would smell better than whatever concoction festered deeper in the den.

It took a while, but Ramone found where a pipe wept through and down a wall, and their claws sunk into rather than dashed across the surface. It was time to get scratching. "If any member of the crew is worth their sorry tails, they'd better find me before I find them. I'll be smellin' this place in my nightmares."