<strong>Picklers</strong><br/><br/>Dionys had been sweating at the bars for half an hour now. The burly satyr was straining and huffing, a pole of metal in each hand, his eyes wild and rolling, sweat pouring down his forehead and across his gleaming shoulders. Forcibly, he stopped, and with a measure of restraint, looked closely at the bars.<br/><br/><em>Moved. Some, not enough. Need more. Tired. Can't be tired. Out. Outside. Voice. Move. Now. </em><br/><br/>The satyr was regularly losing his train of thought as it lapsed into delirium<em>finally! a voice! the voice of a thousand, the words of our dreams have manifest...</em>since the entrance into his mind. In weeks previous, Dionys had managed to convince himself that he was hearing voices, or that he had conjured up a sprite or fairy to keep his thoughts company, but none of those were as potent and urgent as the one he had heard today. It was clear, concise, and incredibly powerful.<br/><br/>Dionys hadn't heard something as strong in his entire life. After the initial thrashing and hollering, he had calmed down and tried to focus his mind in getting to work on escaping, but had only managed to come up with this very basic plan. The only thing Dionys was thankful for was that the bars he now sweated over weren't charged with electricity. The voice<em>what voice! what power! A goddess? No, three! A trinity of deities, begging us to come free and experience oblivion...</em>had jolted him and he promptly forgot about the feline female he had been lusting over, indeed Dionys temporarily forgot that any of the other inmates existed, but he remembered now as he had spent nearly all his considerable strength trying to pull steel alloy bars apart with his bare hands.<br/><br/>Panting, he looked at the others. All were in states of distress, clamouring at their bars. Dionys glittering eyes drank them all in now. A female doe, with a bloody and ripped ear, lay panting in exertion on her slim back. A feline male, crouched on the floor and pawing at his head, whom Dionys vaguely recognised. Another feline, this one a female, Dionys realised with a vague jolt that he had been leering over not long ago.<br/><br/>The ruffled satyr forced his slow and fornication-dominated mind to work in different ways. If he couldn't pull his cage apart by himself, then maybe<em>Maybe a fang! Maybe a light! Maybe a child with eyes so bright!</em>he could use the others help. Dionys had no doubt that the others had heard the same terrifying and fantastical voice as well, and must be aching to break free, more so than ever.<br/><br/>The satyr looked at the bars again. He had barely moved them, but he fancied he could squeeze one of his arms outside. With an effort, he did so, feeling his skin<em>skin and bone! SKIN AND BONE</em>bruising harshly as he pushed his arm between the resolute metal bars. Eyes still dilated, his thoughts still unclear, Dionys rejoiced in his body being outside of the cage of his own free will, even if it was only one limb. Now, he watched his arm, pondering what to do next.<br/><br/>Looking towards one of the cages, this one containing the male feline, Dionys tortured mind began working. He dropped his arm until his palm was on the floor, outside his cage. Pushing down, hard, he tried pulling.<br/><br/>Nothing happened.<br/><br/>Dionys put more power into his pull, veins standing out on his arms and neck, his face turning<em>roundandroundandroundandround</em>a mild pink. Slowly, his large cage creaked a nanometer forward. Despite the voices, despite the effort, despite the pain, Dionys grinned a little. Lifting his arm and placing<em>I know I can see them at night the ones with the biggest smiles and they ask me to lick their three eyes</em>it further forward, he tried pulling again, his muscles protesting at the abuse. This time, his entire cage moved forward a very small amount, in the direction of the male feline. Sweat was now pouring off the red-faced satyr as he, very slowly, moved his entire prison towards his fellow inmate. Operating on the prejudice that males were for strength (since the satyr didn't know otherwise), he hoped that when he reached the other cage, putting the two cages flat next to each other, the two male inmates could<em>paint the stones, make them red, stroke the humans till they're dead</em>force the bars apart between them.