Stories of the Big City
A gathering
Some important things are to be discussed and the two chiefs of the two most influent factions of the Big City, Fluffy for the cats and Bonzo for the dogs, call a gathering in one of the City courtyards. The two Rat Killers, one for the dogs and one for the cats, are on guard to avoid any eventual sudden strike from evil presences.
The chiefs’ bodies are very damaged and they both are near to another of their lives end, here you can see the Stray pushing Fluffy’s chair and Mocho helping Bonzo to stand. Their mutilations are here to remind them of their errors of the past, the most serious, having once divided the two tribes and having pushed cats and dogs one against the other for petty principle matters, weakening the whole City, leaving it to the attack of predator spirits, that the two tribes address as “Rats”, because of their long teeth, sharp claws, and fast, elusive shapes. But the resemblance ends here because the Rats are enormous, deadly bunches of wicked energy.
The City does what it want, you inhabit it as a bacteria inhabits a body. If it decides you’re being harmful, it will find a way to eliminate you. That’s the lesson the two tribes learned.
The Big City is just a single instance of the infinite ones that form the spirit world. It’s shaped as a slightly decadent european city of the twentieth century, of undefined extension and shape, surrounded by a forest whose borders nobody has ever seen, or has come back to describe, because the further you get into it, the more you lose control over your mind.
An historical, architectural dating has no sense though, the city has no past or future, because time has no meaning in the Spirits world. It’s always been like this and it will always be, because it lives in an eternal present.
Its inhabitants seem to be all shaped as domestic animals and other critters commonly found in cities, as mice, rats, pigeons. There’s no trace of humans though, nobody know why. It is said humans take the shaped of long limbed, golden furred monkeys, but there’s no proof it’s really like this.
In some parts of the City if you listen very intently, you can hear the sound of motors and echoes of voices.
Door to the Wild
One of the paths that lead out of the City, walking it you will find a door. It’s an old, plain wood door and is just there, stuck in the middle of a dirt path, but when you walk through it (or around it since there are no walls around it) you will be in the Forest.
The Forest it’s a wild place, and is basically, infinite. The deeper you walk in it, the lesser your rationality will get, until you totally forget yourself. You will become a wild thing with no memories or conscience.
Some people choose to stray the Forest on purpose, as they feel an affinity with the Wild, they’re called Ferals.
When you enter the Forest, you will also become something that can be hunted and eaten, so pay attention.
If you want to eat meat in the Big City, you have to hunt it by yourself. Good Luck!
Here, The Stray with Many Names (dog) and Silk Tofu (cat) show us how it works. See? Silk has already lost her ability to walk on her toes and it’s just on the other side! Amazing!
Silk by the way, is half wildcat, her father is a Feral that lives in the Forest by his own choice, and she herself has lived between the city and the wild through her whole lives, so she knows the territory quite well. Don’t do it if you’re not a bit experienced, kids!
Beware!
Cat sits on tree. The air smells like forest, he hears the sound of leaves, the insects’ buzz, the bark of the branches creaking and popping high above, water mumbling deep inside the ground.
Dog runs back and forth, dog smells little prey, she runs excitedly. Dog never catch any prey. Dog is stupid but cat loves her.
Dog stops, a darker spot forms on her already black fur on the back, where the hairs stand still. Her nose twitches feverishly. Dog smells like great fear!
Dog flee, fast, fast! Cat runs after her, but he can’t keep her pace on the ground, cat jumps over a tree, then from branch to branch, following dog from above.
Dog runs for a good while, at some point the trees get sparser, the paths on the ground get larger, cat jumps down.
Aspen now could smell something else amongs the scents of the forest, a bitter tang that didn’t belong. Asphalt, gasoline.
Ink stopped, panting heavily.
“What in the name of whatever have you heard there?”
“Oh Aspen, we almost got too deep! I was losing my sense of… existence? And something HORRIBLE was coming our way! Didn’t you heard it?!”
“No, no I haven’t… I’m still a bit confused. To be honest, I can’t remember why I was there. And I can’t remember who you are Ink, except I know you. I know you and I know who I am but… ah, I’m confused, I told you!”
Ink looked at the huge, grey spotted cat tilting her head a couple of times, then jumped all over him, frantically licking his face and dancing around:
“It’s true, it’s true! I can’t remember being with you when I first entered the forest, I was alone but now you’re HERE! And to be honest…” She stopped covering him in slobber and sat down, finally “I can’t remember knowing you too. Except I know you, yes. You reincarnated Aspen, yay! Do you remember something of your life before?”
Aspen tried to remember, there were a few disconnected images and sounds, humans dressed in white, something going beep, the smell of alcohol, sanitizer. Nothing more
“Ah, too bad. I can’t remember my past lives too, someday we will. We will remember all our lives and I can’t wait, it will be fun! Well of course, not all our lives were fun I’m sure but hey, everything will make sense!”
“Yes, it will it will… now I just want to go home Ink, I’m tired and I really need to eat and sleep” Now, the memories of his life in the Big City started popping in his mind, fitting perfectly one with the other, all the people he couldn’t remember meeting but were inscribed as a pattern of feelings in his mind, all the places he hadn’t been but he knew perfectly.
The Big City continuosly produced instances of things and people that instantanously fitted perfectly, like in a dream.
(Notes: the trunk that looks like Cthulhu does exist, and we’re friends, though I haven’t visited in a while: https://www.instagram.com/p/B_w_85L…..on_share_sheet **
I tried to convey the sense of overcrowding of plants of a “natural” wood, though there are almost no real natural woods in Italy, most part of the territory is covered in “income woods”, timber, chestnuts, hazelnuts etc. But still, the feeling of a not overcared wood is way different from a park, where you can walk without stumbling or climbing broken trunks everywhere)
Fresh Food
In the Forest you stop being people and you become, well, a wild thing. Some people choose on purpose to get there, because of INSTINCTS, but it’s not an easy place to live (not that The Big City is, huh?). When you go there, you become basically, food. Herbivores are food for carnivores that are food for other carnivores and worms, when they die of starvation, or injuries or whatever.
All the meat eaten inside the city comes from the Wild, obviously. Those that choose to be hunters have to kill their prey with claws and fangs because no weapons in the Wild, guys! No easy mode!
Oh, and when you enter the wild, your body will get… wild. Feral. The more feral the longer you walk faraway from The Door. And the longer you walk in the deepth of the Forest, the harder is remembering who you were, and the way home.
But when you get killed there, your body, even if brought back, will stay feral, because you’re a spirit and will go elsewhere, and that’s just meat! Yummm!
Silk, being half city cat and half wildcat, has some strong instincts that sometimes call her fluffy butt, so she has to leave her cushions and shampoos and go hunt something. Someone. Well.
Her gorgeous coat protects her well against the cold, and is frigging cold there, though it can limit her movements. She died a few times there, and someone probably still has tummy ache due to all that hairs.
Shopping in the Big City market means that it maaay happen that you find someone you knew on display as meat. But most part of the citizens are used to this. More than one eat cats and dogs, that are the most part of the City population, so it’s fair play. That’s life guys. They’re spirits and will probably come back someway, anyway.
The most scrupulous will cover the ugliest disfigurements that may have occurred during the hunting and killing, so you may not be too shocked, if you find your friend/lover/kid/daddy etc.
The Junkyard Dogs
The Junkyard is a territory, surrounded by a high metal fence, that borders with the Big City, and with other instances, though thorough exploration is impossible, so those territories remain unknown.
People from the Big City gather lots of precious materials from the yard, but the gathering is not easy. The Junkyard is constantly surveilled by an enormous pack of dogs, whose actual alpha is a wolfish female called Tundra. That’s what they call her in the City by the way, ’cause the Junkyard dogs don’t speak and don’t use names.
The Junkyard dogs live as feral animals, though there are historical evidences they can shift into bipedal, hand equipped and talking shapes. The only shape that is allowed inside the junkyard is the feral one, and the only animals allowed to enter are dogs. Everyone else is killed and eaten.
Dogs of the Big City have the task to gather materials from there, they must enter in small groups, in feral form, and take what they can without using appliances of any kind, while constanly monitored by the pack.
The enormous amount of trash don’t come from the Big City, thats for sure, as said before the Junkyard is enormous and surely borders with other instances, but exploration is forbidden by the pack.
Saints
Silene
Silene is the Saint of decomposition. She manifests as a green fox with her chest torn open, containing a big plant bulb, and a white Silene flower growing out of her left orbit.
Silene is the protector of those spirits that can’t leave their bodies immediately after death. She has a beautiful and soothing voice, and she’ll sing sweet songs about how bodies will turn into wonderful flowers, to make the imprisoned spirits feel less alone while they struggle to get free.
P. G. R. means “per grazia ricevuta”, “for received grace”. Those are little artistic things made by people that believe they’ve received a grace from some Saint to thank them, small paintings, trinkets, crosstitches etc. and you can find these hanging from the wall in many Italian churches. You may not believe – I don’t for sure – but this is some strong, energetic art.
The Cyclopes
All around the City, expecially on the paths nearing the Forest, you can find these small chapels with painted Saints’ icons, like the ones you can find here.
But there, they’re usually adapted as useful small temporary hostels for smaller animals, fruit bushes are planted all around, offering a refreshing snack to the pilgrims, and it’s quite common finding a mailbox nailed on one side, left open, where people can exchange messages. People in the city are all animals, but they’re quite civil and vandalizing common goods is basically unheard of.
Saints are very much tangible here. They’re spirits that have ascended a superior shape, and stay on the material world for their own reasons. They pretty much mind their business and won’t mix with normal embodied spirits much, but it sometimes happens.
The Cyclopes is the protector of non viable children. He protects their spirits and guide them toward their next embodiment. He’s usually painted with an helleborus flower, that represents rebirth. It’s said that he was a cyclopic, hairless cat that was able to survive despite his genetic condition and ascended to a superior state, but that’s quite unlikely, since holoprosencephaly that extreme is not compatible with prolonged life. It’s more likely that he was a Cambion ( https://www.furaffinity.net/view/44933490/ ).
The Cyclopes has appeared to Rughelia a few times, and even helped her. He seems to have a favorable attitude toward her, since she was born hairless as a feral cat, and her destiny at birth was to be left to die. ( https://www.furaffinity.net/view/46805639/ )
It looks like the crow chatting awakened the scops owl sleeping inside the chapel. I guess it’s karma!
Favonium/Favonio
Favonio, the Foehn Wind, the warm Wind that makes people crazy. This Saint shares his name with it, he’s the protector of the reckless animals.
When a dog jumps down a cliff, mindlessly running after a shadow, and lands without a single injury, it’s Favonius that has reached to grab him and make his landing safe.
When a cat runs head first at whole speed into a wall, trying to catch a small prey suddenly disappearing in a small hole, and doesn’t even suffers a bruise, it’s Favonius putting is paw between the silly head and the bricks.
An enormous, eyeless dog, with a friendly face, that’s Saint Favonius, watching over the crazy animals everywhere.
Translation of the quotes up left, from Italian: ” pushed by the wind of madness, he jumped and was saved”
Street Kitchen
“What’s that guy doing?” said the cat. At the corner of the street there was a young wolf, staring intensely at the street kitchen window, looking like someone that hadn’t eaten in a while. He had been roughed up, apparently, his fur was shaggy and a bit bloodied in a couple of places.
The story was common, the people living in the immediate outskirts of The Forest that surrounded The City, people that wanted to be feral, but still retained some self consciousness, knew well that The Big City was no place for easy hunting. But some youngsters didn’t believe it, they came through the Door all cocky and arrogant, believing the City was a place of softies easy to prey. They assaulted some small animal and discovered that The City has ears and eyes everywhere, and often even claws and fangs ready to defend. Collaboration was what made the City go on, it shouldn’t have been in any other way.
The offenders were never killed or severely mangled, just roughed up a bit. It was not necessary, in a place where karma existed and was LITERAL,and people lived full lives to expiate their bad deeds, in their horrible nightmares.
“Hey, are you hungry? Come here!” called the Spaniel mutt gal. She and the cat, a short male with siamese markings, wore a kitchen apron, both a bit greasy ’cause it had been an intense shift that night.
The wolf slowly approached, ears and tails low, he was still evidently shocked, afraid that someone would maybe have misinterpreted his intentions, this time, and beat him up again.
“I… don’t want to hurt anyone” whispered.
“I know, don’t worry. Are you hungry? This is a street kitchen, you know what is it?” Spaniel girl guessed the guy was at his first visit in the City, and probably hadn’t been taught nothing about the code of conduct to keep within its borders. Or maybe, he simply didn’t listen.
“He clearly don’t, I fear” the cat taking a puff from a long, thin pipe. The smoke smelled like Autumn leaves burning.
“Guy, if you’re hungry we’ll feed you. No need to kill people”
Wolf boy stared at both, insecure. “Yes, I’m hungry” said then.
“That’s good, sit here, I’ll bring you something then” said the Spaniel. She brought an old ceramic plate with some rough, irregular blocks of something on. The wolf sniffed, these smelled nice, very nice. A strange, mellow scent he had never smelled before, since he had never had anything baked with flour in the forest, together with something proteic that made him drool a bit. He was very, very hungry.
“You like this huh?” giggled the bitch watching him snarfing down the cricket cookies “there’s more if you want, in fact we just have these and a couple eggs left…”
“Lots of people tonight” said the cat distractedly, looking up at the kitchen tent, where someone was throwing scraps from an upper floor.
“…Thank you” said the wolf after a while, when he had enough food in him to start thinking again.
“You’re welcome, come back whenever you need!” said the Spaniel, bringing back a couple of empty plates to the kitchen.
“He’s cute” she whispered to the cat.
“Yep” answered him, taking a puff from his pipe “but he stinks.”
Shedding Season
Foxes can shed quite a lot and having a friend helping with all that undercoat is useful! Neem the corsac getting plucked by Ru the hairless cat. The Big City is full of animals so lots of shed undercoat gets gathered and spinned to make warm winter clothes for hairless and short haired inhabitants.
The Siren’s Pack
I almost never draw Big City dogs, and as I said before that’s not fair. They’re not always good boys and girls but they deserve attention none the less. This is a part of the Siren’s pack, that shares its territory with the cats of the Iron Tree Tribe. It’s an image of many ages ago, when their boss, Bonzo, the white bully, still had all his body parts together. (see: “A gathering” )
Cats and Dogs of these tribes weren’t definitely friendly at the time, living in a constant guerrilla state about territories domination. Then some common enemy happened and killed everyone except the two leaders that finally realized they were complete morons and that strenght lies in collaboration, but that’s another story.
In the meantime, here they are, the Elders of the Siren’s pack, young and healthy! From the left: Bowie, female husky, hunter. Zio, Schnauzer, warrior and nanny (can you call a male nanny?). Falco, male mutt, explorer. Bonzo, male bull-and-terrier, boss, wrestler, strategist. The Stray, female spitz/border mix, nobody has the faintest idea of what she does but she’s always in the middle. Ercole, dachshund, warrior, and Hermes, male cirneco mix, messenger.
Statues
The brave Falco of the Siren’s pack walking through a portal with many statues. It leads to different places depending on what statues have open eyes and what have closed eyes. You have to know the combinations well because some places it leads to are dangerous, deadly even.
Freely inspired by Frantisek Kupka, “The Way of Silence”.
Music
Ru and the Quinconce are singing together to the radio on a rooftop, a vole gal joins the choir from her spot in the attic.
There’s a single radio that airs music in the Big City, it’s a shortwave radio called, well, The Radio. It airs just music, all day and all night, no dj’s, no news. And the songs are in unknown languages, nobody knows from where the signal come.
Other frequencies, always on shortwaves as it seems to be the only band working, are used for communications inbetween the City’s quarters and the transmitters are known, but The Radio, nobody knows from where it originates.
As music it’s in unknown languages, covers in the City’s idioms are common, with completely invented lyrics, the City inhabitants love doing concerts on the streets.
The Quinconce is a mischievous spirit but he always loves some music and that’s the best way to keep him happy and unharmful. Ru knows it, and since she loves singing, there’s always occasion for a duet when they meet.
A Dance
Ru and the Quinconce are singing together to the radio on a rooftop, a vole gal joins the choir from her spot in the attic.
There’s a single radio that airs music in the Big City, it’s a shortwave radio called, well, The Radio. It airs just music, all day and all night, no dj’s, no news. And the songs are in unknown languages, nobody knows from where the signal come.
Other frequencies, always on shortwaves as it seems to be the only band working, are used for communications inbetween the City’s quarters and the transmitters are known, but The Radio, nobody knows from where it originates.
As music it’s in unknown languages, covers in the City’s idioms are common, with completely invented lyrics, the City inhabitants love doing concerts on the streets.
The Quinconce is a mischievous spirit but he always loves some music and that’s the best way to keep him happy and unharmful. Ru knows it, and since she loves singing, there’s always occasion for a duet when they meet.
Crossing the lakes
There’s a quarter of the Big City you can reach only traveling through a series of lakes. Sometimes you’ll walk through shallow waters, sometimes you’ll have to swim. The water is cold but strangely, not as much as it seems. Everything seem to lose color when you’re there.
It’s not so important for Zoe, as she’s already as grey as fog.
If you try to reach that quarter walking around the lakes, the quarter is not there so you can’t avoid doing the long swim.
The reasons why someone should get there are many, and different for everyone.
NOTES: I wanted to do a very slightly colored watercolor, an “almost-black and white”. Grey is one of my favorite colors and I think is very calming, if a bit sad. Also, it reflects colors as no other colors do.
When I was a kid I was completely fixated about foxes. I stopped drawing them as I grew up, and I now look back and I think it was one of the many ways I used to conceal myself and what I loved from the world, a concept that other neurodiverse persons will probably find understandable. I’m getting back to draw them after a long time now that I’ve worked a lot on myself and they seem to drag out lots of very hidden feelings about grieves and the relief of expressing them.