Think I accidentally sent this to Misha only the first time...

Begin forwarded message:

> From: Nathan Pfaunmiller <[email protected]>
> Date: June 27, 2011 19:44:12 EDT
> To: Christian OKane <[email protected]>
> Subject: AC news
> 

> Just got back from AC, and wanted to give an update.  I was able to get up 
> with Matt, Hallan, and Kanren a few times during the con, including the first 
> night when they rescued me from the airport (Thanks, guys).  I also got some 
> awesome art, which I will send to Vir as soon as I can get it scanned.  
> Finally, I wrote a story about some things that happened this year.  Some 
> artistic liberties were taken in the telling, but I'll let you figure out how 
> much is truth, and how much is fiction.
> 
> ________
> 
> Squeaky Tail
> 
> This is a story about me, and what it was that broke me out of the shell in 
> which I used to hide.  You see, there was a time when I wouldn't dare mention 
> the concept of being furry to anyone outside of the fandom.  Now the only 
> reason I would avoid mentioning it is because it isn't immediately important. 
>  What happened, exactly, and when exactly did this change take place?
> 
> It was my second time at Anthrocon, and after my first year's experience, I 
> wanted to get things moving right from the start.  I didn't have too much 
> memorabilia from my first year, so I didn't look much like a furry on my 
> first day.  Determined to change this, I went hunting for a tail to match my 
> fursona on the first day.
> 
> I was disappointed for the first day.  Between the ubiquitous fox tails, 
> competing cat tails, and numerous rainbow-colored tails of all descriptions, 
> I had no success in my search for a wolf tail that matched my style.
> 
> The second day started much the same; I searched throughout the Dealer's Den 
> for someone who was selling the kind of tail I wanted.  Finally, I found a 
> new table that had opened sometime during the day.  Their tails were 
> significantly more varied than those that were being sold elsewhere, and one 
> of the tails was the perfect color for me.  It was long and fluffy, a light 
> brown on top with a white bottom.
> 
> "How much is that tail?" I asked the dealer, pointing to the one I had 
> spotted.
> 
> He gave me the price and took it down from the rack so I could see it closer. 
>  "This is one of our better tails," he told me.  "And all of our tails squeak 
> when you squeeze them." He demonstrated, then handed me the tail so I could 
> look it over.
> 
> Now, I have no problem with furs who go around with squeaking tails, noses, 
> or even entire suits, but it wasn't exactly my style, as I tend to be just a 
> bit more restrained.  Still, the tail was perfect, and there was no outward 
> indication that it would squeak, so I decided to purchase it.  Before long, I 
> was walking about the convention center, wearing my tail proudly.
> 
> The fact that it squeaked was rapidly forgotten as I managed to learn how to 
> work with it rather quickly.  Sitting was an interesting exercise, but 
> certainly did not cause too many complications.  At any rate, wearing the 
> tail was a bit of novelty, and I was enjoying every minute of it.  All the 
> while, no one who saw me wearing the tail suspected it of being anything more 
> than a cool looking tail.  I was quite pleased with it, and never thought 
> twice about wearing it to the con on the third day.
> 
> It wasn't until I went to lunch that anything noteworthy happened.  I was 
> standing in line to order my lunch, when I felt a tug from behind and heard a 
> squeak from my tail.  I turned to see a border collie fursuiter behind me, 
> acting embarrassed as he hid his face behind large, cartoony paws.  I 
> grinned.  While I had not intended for anyone to find out about it, I wasn't 
> about to spoil the fun.  I tapped him on the shoulder, causing him to peek 
> between his fingers at me.  I held my arms wide, and he gave me a hug with 
> little hesitation.  My grin remained in place all the way through the line, 
> and I waved to the suiter as I took my food to my table.
> 
> As I sat down, I easily move my tail out of the way without even using my 
> hands.  I was starting to get used to having a tail, and was feeling quite 
> accomplished for it.  As I considered this, I felt my tail swinging back and 
> forth.  I looked back, expecting to see another fur batting at it, but was 
> surprised to see it moving of its own accord.  I jumped up, forgetting my 
> food, and walked quickly to the restroom.  I found it empty, and so stood in 
> front of the mirror, turning awkwardly so I could see my tail.
> 
> The first thing I noticed was that, not only did it still effectively obscure 
> the place where it was strapped to my belt, but the way it sat now made it 
> definite that it could not possibly be attached in that manner.  Perhaps it 
> could have been cleverly attached to my jeans, but the fact that it flicked 
> back and forth in response to my thoughts destroyed that idea entirely.  It 
> couldn't be; my tail was now a part of me!
> 
> It did not take me long to realize that, although it reacted as though it was 
> real, it was still clearly a fake tail.  While it had been designed well, it 
> was, perhaps, a bit too perfect to be real, and the fur fibers were still 
> just clever imitations.  I gave it a tentative squeeze, and felt a tug at my 
> back, but no sensation from the tail itself.  The squeeze also activated the 
> squeaker, and it sounded again, confirming once and for all that it was fake.
> 
> As I squeezed, though, I felt a strange warmth around my feet.  Looking down, 
> I saw a pair of large, cartoony paws instead of my walking shoes.  I lifted 
> each of them, and found as I set them down that I felt again that they were 
> just imitations, with some muffled sensation coming from my real feet.  
> Still, their sudden appearance tipped me off to the cause of the changes.  I 
> grabbed my tail, looked in the mirror, and squeezed again.
> 
> As the squeak sounded in my ears, the touch of my tail's fur became muffled, 
> and I saw a pair of paw gloves appear from nowhere on my hands.  They had 
> only four digits, but my hands fit them perfectly, almost as though my real 
> hands now only possessed four fingers.  I waved to myself, and saw the pads 
> on the gloves, designed to my own preferences.
> 
> Shock had given away to happiness and curiosity.  I gave my tail another 
> squeeze, and the body of my suit appeared from nowhere, suddenly taking the 
> place of my regular clothing.  It was designed to match my fursona, with 
> perhaps a bit more of a cartoony appearance than I usually envisioned, but 
> that consideration was hardly an issue with me.  I wanted to see the full 
> effect, so I gave my tail several more squeezes in quick succession.  
> Instantaneously, a fursuit head had replaced my own in the mirror.  I looked 
> and felt like I was wearing a high-quality cartoon wolf fursuit, except my 
> vision was unhindered, and I didn't feel an uncomfortable amount of heat.  I 
> tried to say something, but covered my mouth with large paws when I heard a 
> familiar squeaking noise.  Instead of speaking, it sounded as though I had 
> squeezed my tail again, except this came from the mouth of the suit.
> 
> It took me a moment to realize that I had expressed my shock in a manner very 
> similar to many fursuiters, by pantomiming a gasp into my paws.  Rather than 
> feeling any more shock or surprise, however, I let loose a few quick, 
> squeaking laughs, still accompanying them with a natural pantomime.
> 
> I felt great!  Being at Anthrocon had already been a great experience, but 
> this was altogether different, an even fuller feeling of happiness than I had 
> ever felt before.  I felt much more free, almost as if my change had gotten 
> rid of my usual calm stoicism and replaced it with an almost giddy 
> excitement.  I wanted to share this with someone somehow; even if they could 
> not experience the same change, I wanted to share how much I enjoyed it.
> 
> I came out of the restroom, waving to everyone that I passed.  My food was 
> left on the table as I made my way back to the convention center.  Partway 
> there, I ran into a familiar suiter, the same who had squeezed my tail to 
> begin with.  I offered him another hug, and he again obliged without 
> hesitation.  As we stepped back from it, he grabbed his own tail and squeezed 
> it.  As it gave a familiar sort of squeak, he pointed to me. I knew what he 
> meant; he had changed the same way, and wanted to know if I had done the 
> same.  I nodded enthusiastically, and he gave his own squeaky laugh.
> 
> The two of us spent much of the rest of the con hanging out together, letting 
> people take our pictures, offering free hugs, and generally doing things I 
> never would have been willing to do before I changed.  It was as though the 
> suit that I now occupied had also changed my personality to be more 
> happy-go-lucky. It was no dramatic mental change, no animal mind replacing my 
> human one, and nothing that I would have resisted given the chance.  I simply 
> felt more free, more alive, than I ever had felt before.  The things I was 
> now willing to do were nothing more than the things I wished I could bring 
> myself to do before, but had been too withdrawn to try.
> 
> The last two days of the con passed in a blur.  Late the first evening, I 
> discovered that squeezing the tail reverted my form back to normal at will, 
> and just as easily changed me into my fully suited form.  The knowledge of 
> how to change back was helpful, but rarely used.  Only when I slept and at 
> the end of the con did I change back.  Just before I left, I exchanged email 
> addresses with my border collie friend, and we both agreed that we had to do 
> it again as soon as possible.
> 
> The day after the con, I stood outside of my gate at the airport, waiting for 
> my flight to leave.  Exhilaration and happiness had given way to exhaustion 
> and regret for the end of a great con.  I had two more hours to wait, and 
> everyone around me looked as exhausted as I felt.  I sighed, thinking of ways 
> I could brighten everyone's day, but was still too shy to do anything myself.
> 
> A now-familiar tug from behind caused me to turn around and look at the young 
> girl who had curiously pulled on my tail.  She couldn't have been more than 
> three years old, and her bright, curious eyes seemed to carry a certainty 
> that my tail was real.
> 
> Instead of releasing it as I turned around, the girl hesitated a moment, 
> before giving it another firm tug.  This one was strong enough to squeak it, 
> and I felt the sensation of change once more as my body was overtaken by the 
> fantastic costume.
> 
> The girl stepped away, wide-eyed as I changed, but no one else noticed me 
> until the change was finished.  I squeaked a laugh, and knelt down with my 
> arms held wide for the girl.  She hesitated only a moment, then jumped into 
> the hug with a happy giggle.
> 
> Two hours seemed like far too short a time now as I went about the gate area, 
> doing what I could to entertain my fellow travelers.  By the time the gate 
> had opened for boarding, I had gathered quite a following of children, none 
> of whom could get enough of my antics.  As I reverted to my normal form, no 
> one seemed to notice anything wrong with the sudden change, although everyone 
> knew I had been the man in the suit.  Several parents thanked me for keeping 
> their rowdy children busy, and even though some grumbled about me being too 
> odd for their liking, I couldn't have been happier.
> 
> As far as I'm concerned, if I'm odd, then the problem with the world today is 
> that it isn't odd enough.


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