Become Your Fursona

I started the app, holding my phone towards the wall in both hands. It was dark there, so I turned towards Jen where she sat on the bed. Then I stared.

She was looking up at me, bemused, but that’s not what I was staring at. I could see my wings — huge brown and tan primary feathers, protruding out from my arms. One of my fingers got in front of the screen, and I could see a bird’s scaly, taloned digit. (The jewel on the nightstand looked normal, though … I checked.)

“How is this possible?” I asked, waving one hand in front of the lens. My hand felt the same as I clenched it, and wiggled my fingers around. But it looked like a hawk’s foot, shaped like a hand.

“It isn’t,” Kath said.

“What do you-” I jumped back, dropping my phone. I’d turned to look through it at her, and had seen a white fox’s face, and three fluffy tails right behind her.

Invisible Wings is a commission for Arrow Quivershaft. Here’s the summary:

Growing wings sounds like it’d be fun, but it wouldn’t be very convenient … especially if you couldn’t see where they were! But are they a sign of something greater?

Many thanks to everyone who donated in last week’s drive. Over $150 was raised this way, hopefully enough to pay for the move at least. Donations are still being accepted, so if you have the money to spare then please do so (did I mention that if you donate $20 or more you can have your character appear in one of my stories?):

Your well-wishing and support have also been invaluable, and for that I thank every one of you. (I already have, individually, but thanks again.)

In other news, the site’s theme has been updated, to one that should be a bit easier on the eyes. More updates are on the way, and I’m open to suggestions if any of you have any! I’m also on a handful of art gallery sites if you want to +watch me there:

• DeviantArt
• FurAffinity
• Inkbunny

Only my FurAffinity account is actively updated right now, but I’m going to start uploading my work to the other sites!

Many thanks once again … oh yes, and read Invisible Wings. ~.^

Click here to read the last part of As I Am.

The last few stories have been about suicide, troubled family relationships, and bad religion for a reason. When I had to live with my family back in 2008, I would self-injure and scream insults at myself in my head, and I came close to killing myself. There were a lot of bad experiences, and I’m trying to forget them.

Since moving out I’ve become much healthier and more confident. Unfortunately, by the end of March — April at the latest — I’m not going to have a place to live anymore. My family might take me in again, but my father has made it clear that I’m no longer a part of his “eternal family,” and that he disapproves of my “lifestyle.” He does not mind threatening me, and I’m scared of what he and the others will do to me.

I don’t want to go back there.

I’m going to move to the Research Triangle of North Carolina so I can be close to my mate, Yurodivy. I don’t have a lot of money, though, and I’m going to have to work very hard to write enough articles to pay for a room. I’m going to try to get government food and housing assistance, but I don’t know how long that will take.

Here’s what you can do to help.

1. Donate money by Paypal by clicking here:

I’m not taking commissions right now, but if you donate $20 or more I may work one of your characters into a story I’m writing. Anything would be appreciated — I don’t know how much I’m going to need just to move.

2. Spread the word by posting links to this on your journal, your Identi.ca / Twitter account, or wherever you usually post things. If your friends have enjoyed a commission you’ve bought from me, let them know too.

3. Help me find a place to stay until I’ve rented a room. The Triangle is 8 hours away from here, and I’m going to need a place to sleep and some kind of transportation in order to look at rooms. If I have to stay at a motel for this time, that will make things even harder.

I will be at Furry Weekend Atlanta this year in case you would like to meet me in person before letting me crash on your couch.

Thanks, and I hope you’ve enjoyed my stories so far.

“Carol, are you alright?”

“I appear to be.”

More cicadas, more crickets. Liz glanced across the well-manicured lawn up at the house, making sure that no one had gotten up to check on them. The lights were still off.

Liz looked back up into the tree. She couldn’t see anything. “What happened?”

“Don’t want to talk about it.”

“Carol, what happened?“

Apparently, she’s not dead yet! Chapter 3 of As I Am is now up.

I’ve been taking some time off for mental health purposes, on account of something that happened this week. I know where I want to go with Arrow’s story though, and I will hopefully be able to start posting it as soon as As I Am is finished.

Carol lay there for what seemed like forever.

People walked right around her. People coming in and out of class. Most of them gave her a wide berth. One person kicked her, and another stepped on her tail. She did nothing.

Carol’s mind hadn’t changed, which confirmed her suspicion that she’d been an animal on the inside all along. Her body had only gone partway, though, which was the way that it happened for so many weres. She was still wearing her clothes, and her thoughts didn’t seem strange to her at all. For someone gone catatonic, anyway.

I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m dead. I’m dead. That was all she could think …

Read part 2 of As I Am.

In other news, my commission price has been raised to $50 USD for 5,000 words minimum. I’m considering having an option to pay more to get a longer story — perhaps $80 USD for 10,000 words — because it seems like the planning is what takes the longest. Any suggestions?

Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open and walked inside, going behind all the rows of seats lined up and over to an unused desk. She sat down quietly, ignoring the squeak in her chair, and tried to be as small as possible as she got out her notebook and pencil from her backpack.

It wasn’t until after she’d done so, and started thinking about what to draw during class, that a couple of things occurred to her.

One, the teacher had stopped in midsentence a moment after she’d stepped inside.

Two, everyone in the room was watching her.

Not “a few people had turned their heads to look at the person who’d just sat down.” Everyone in the room was watching her.

As I Am is a story about a college-aged girl with Animal Syndrome. Did you know that 1 in 150 children are born with either Wereism or Animal Syndrome? It’s a tragedy, because no one could ever accept an animal into human society. Especially not a Bible-believing Christian, who knows that only humans are made in God’s image and have souls.

Read the first part of As I Am now!

Also, a quick update: Arrow Quivershaft’s story is on the way, and it’s slightly less religiously-themed than this and the last few stories. >.> Those seemed to be really popular, though, so if you liked them check out these articles I wrote: The Gay Suicide Card (an MST) and How to Rescue Someone From a Cult (Including Yourself)!

“Merry Christmas,” the first voice said, although it didn’t sound like it meant it. Then the door slammed shut.

After that, there was silence.

Alexandre peeked around the corner, trying to squint through the snowfall to see who it was. Then he stared.

The person who’d just come out was not human at all, but had the face of a cat; some kind of wildcat, with small and thin facial features and long, tufted black ears. They flattened, as he glared across the street with his arms folded. And his tail swished, as he shivered beneath his coat and jeans.

Then he noticed Alexandre. And if he noticed that neither of them looked human, or that Alexandre was staring at him in a confused panic, he did not mention it. “Hey,” he said, his ears unfolding.

“Hel-lo,” Alexandre said, not sure if he should run or not.

A Seasonal Tale is a Christmas-themed story I wrote a couple of years ago. I removed it earlier this year because I no longer agreed with its moral, but I decided to rework and repost it today so you would all have something to read over your stockings. (I know, it’s just not Christmas unless there’s a new Become Your Fursona story, right?)

‘Tis the season to be inexplicably transformed! But when Alexandre finds another anthro running around downtown Salt Lake City, he grills him for answers … and gets more than he bargained for.

Read A Seasonal Tale now (or after you’ve opened your presents). And Merry Christmas!

Sam helped me across the street. I had to lean on her most of the way. But when we got up to the doorstep, I rang the doorbell and then stood up straight, on my own, to face the music.

It was a Janice Kapp Perry arrangement. The sound came out of the living room speakers, as my stepmother opened the door and blinked at me.

“There is beauty all around, when there’s love at home … ”

I stood there, red-faced under my fur and ashamed, too scared to even look up at her.

“There is joy in every sound, when there’s love at home … ”

I knew that she was ashamed of me. I knew-

“What do you want?” She sounded scared and suspicious.

She didn’t know.

She didn’t know.

Laurence, Sam, and Joshua’s story concludes in part 4 and part 5 of Endure to the End.

Writing this story and An Enemy To God has been the most difficult thing that I’ve done for this site. It’s been painful to imagine — and, sometimes, to relive — these things. It’s been scary to think how my friends and family will react. And it’s been unsettling to see the effect that these stories have had on some people I know. I think that they need to be told, though, and I’m glad for all the support I’ve received while writing them. Thank you, everyone. I’m sorry it took so long.

Read part 4 of Endure to the End now. And if you’re hurting the same way that Lawrence is, and feeling guilty for being the person you are, I hope that you feel better soon.

Laurel is slumped into the chair in her Sunday dress, with a shell-shocked look on her face. Beside her, her stepmom is red-faced, her cheeks puffy from crying. She has her arms folded and is looking straight ahead, glaring at the door to the bishop’s office. Other churchgoers walk past in front of them, ignoring them but knowing why they’re there.

The next day, Laurel’s high school Seminary teacher tells her class about how anthros, gays, and transgender people are sick, and they do sick things to each other. They only want to live their lifestyles openly so that they can shock people, and they only want to get “married” so they can have tax writeoffs. That’s why they pushed their agenda, to get the definitions of marriage and personhood changed in California, and it’s up to the members of God’s true church to stand up for what’s right. It’s up to the Latter-Day Saints to fight back.

Laurel barely makes it through the class period, then throws up in the bathroom outside. Someone comes in as she’s retching, and just as quickly backs out.

Laurel’s knees are shaking as she straddles the toilet seat, trying to catch her breath. She’s pleading with God in her head, begging him to make her whole. Begging him to take these wrong feelings away from her.

All of them.

Are you reading TF stories with the door closed? Naughty you! This one might be important for you to read, though … especially if you’re feeling guilty about it.

Endure to the End is an updated version of By Their Fruits, a story that appeared here briefly. It’s also a prequel to An Enemy to God, but you don’t have to have read that first. You just might recognize some of the characters if you have.

Those feelings that you have are wrong. You are damned because of them, and you will be separated from your family forever unless you stop having them, right now. And start being the person WE want you to be.

Read Endure to the End now! And if you feel bad about it, just remember to ask yourself … is it really your conscience telling you that?

Please excuse us if the place looks a bit weird for a while! *puts on a hard hat and gets back to work*

Wordcount has resumed, and after a brief edit I’ve decided not to throw out what I have of McMajik’s story so far. The progress in my FA journal’s footer has been updated.