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. !DSPAM:4e091889204441804284693!
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