catte fic

before the sun set on me

I never actually understood the giant ball of flaming hot gas in the sky...

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I left behind the mauled form of the Laminax employee. In my defense, he attacked first, swung at the poor Catte eating his ice cream and minding his own business. Was he a scientist? A guard? Janitor? Who knows, it wasn't my problem to deal with anymore.
Well, that was in the past now. I start walking back towards the small hole in the crystal cove I called my 'home'. The knife I retrieved from the scuffle fits well in my paw, and the craftsmanship is something I can admire, the blade sporting a stylish leather sheath. Swinging it about to test how it feels, I resheath the knife and put it in my bucket.
Sliding a very beaten looking wooden pallet out of the way, I climb down the newly revealed hole.

Our man cave wasn't all that well decorated — you could see about two photos and a plant, and that was it. There was a small boulder in the corner of the room which we called the 'food rock' (frock?) because that's where we would put the dead slimepups we were going to eat. Or half ate. Look, it was all food on top of there. Except for that one time Dusk brought back a strangely accurate model of a swordfish wearing headphones. I still have no idea where he got that from.
Speaking of Dusk, he's the panther that lives with me in this glorified dump. Friendly, but... well... yeah. Just friendly. Too friendly, actually. Probably would collapse like a house of cards and start sobbing if he was insulted enough. Actually did collapse like a house of cards and started sobbing because he was insulted enough.
Both of us barely remembered snips of our human lives, let alone our names, so we both chose names after we had found a dictionary stowed away in one of the scientist's offices we had raided. He took Dusk—a time of serenity, when the sun goes to sleep. I never really had anywhere I felt at home, anyways. Even my room from what I could remember of the surface above felt foreign after so long...
Nomad does sound like one of those strange, edgy names you find in crappy fiction, though. It was just a bit funny: he chose a beautiful, symbolic name and I chose a name representing my dislike for this shithole. Can't dwell on it too much, though.
Right on cue, Dusk rised from god-knows-where on the floor (when did he get there?) and groggily croaked out a "good morning".

I felt like going out for a bit, just to take a walk (which I really was, but I also wanted to hunt some slimepups). So, being reasonable for once I decided to actually write a note, and left it on the 'food rock'.
Which is precisely when Fate herself decided it should all go to shit, in the form of a guard falling down the hole into the crevice. Bits of splintered wood rained down onto his head, and you could faintly hear the calls of his mates above, but it all seemingly went straight though his head as he stared at me in a mix of shock and fear. And then, for the final act, the nail in the coffin, another one of his buddies decended down into the pit with a rope and laid eyes on me.

Well, fuck.

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word vomit successfully cooked up fresh

barbecue this in the comments i feed on the dismay and complaints of those who oversee the advancement of this work
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