FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Walking naked through a stone monastery with nothing but a bucket to hide my modesty was not how I was expecting to spend my morning. Mind you, what I was expecting was for the koala nun escorting me to yell for help as soon as we ran into another living being. Instead she just calmly walked by a kangaroo and wallaby who didn't do anything but stare at me and blush. I didn't pay them any mind, but after fourth or fifth time the sense that I needed to defend myself dissipated along with my adrenaline rush. By the seventh time, I really wished I had grabbed a bedsheet rather than a bucket.

It probably didn't help that all the way we are followed the same black speckled white seal that has been haunting these past two morning. The occasional "Arf arf arf" echoes at the people we were passing, reaffirming to me that we haven't lost the nosy little caboose. I honestly couldn't figure out why he was following us. He was just fed, so there was motivation for him to stay in the room. If he was just lonely then there were all the people we were passing. There was little to no reason for a fully grown seal to follow us through an entire building.

...the entire train of thought of which was me just hitting myself for not closing the door behind me, but I was still in the mindframe of expecting an attack at any moment at the time.

In any event, we walk in relative silence as the kola leads me to 83N. 83N... the rat who for some reason has taken refuge on a world without any men. There's a story behind that, but I'm still hopeful I can leave it to the boys in interrogation to extract it from him. I'm frontline muscle, both literal and intellectual. I am not a people person...

The kollala nun stops and turns around in front of a heavy wooden door almost identical to every other door we've passed in this maze of stairwells and stain glassed windows. "Well, here we are. I would say... well nothing I would say would be proper or true, so let's just hope don't bump into each other too much during your stay."

Striding past me, the nun takes a moment to fuss with the cheeks of the seal, "And you behave yourself around the grumpy ungrateful lass." I wince, through I can't tell if it's at the ungrateful or the constant feminine pronouns. As she continues to walk away, I turn back towards the door and brace myself. Hand firmly on the metal bucket, I breath out and compartmentalize any emotions as I prepare to take down the most elusive fugitive the MMIB has pursued to...

"Arf arf arf," the seal echos right next to me... literally, sounds travels like a sound chamber in these hallways. Mentally cursing the complete lack of surprise this creature is going to afford me, I push open the door and walk into the unknown.

What I find is a rather contemporary kitchen. Wooden tables, rug, laminate countertop... even what appears to be an electric stovetop. Strangely no signs of electric lighting or refrigeration. There's a stairwell up, and a stairwell down... and not much else...

Not knowing where the fugitive is I carefull reach back and close the door as silently as possible. The seal manages to slip in, of course, but as long as I don't make a sound I might still have a chance at surpri...

Suddenly a kettle on the stove starts whistling. Quickly glancing at the position of the furniture in comparison to the stairs, I make a judgement call and shuffle myself so that while crouching I'll be obscured from the stairwell going down. My fifty fifty choice is rewarded when a plump brown rat starts ascending the stairwell in a rush.

He's dressed differently than before, though since we're neither on a jungle polar cap nor a frozen comet space base a change of dress would be called for. Strangely he's wearing an orange and brown kilt, revealing... at least somewhat decent legs, though they'd have to be to haul the rest of him around on. He also has an orange T-Shirt and brown vest, both of which show signs of stitching that scream modern manufacturing. Topping it all off is the same thin framed glasses that for some reason bring a snarl to my face.

Pushing unprovoked anger aside, I silently slip behind him as he rushes towards the teakettle and turns off the heat. Hefting the bucket up, I prepare to clonk him on the head when he suddenly says, "You know ninjas reeking of fish might want to consider a change of careers."

The sudden acknowledgement of my presence gives me pause for a few critical seconds... which is all the perk needs to dash away a few steps and reach into his vest. "Right, maybe we can avoid suffocation or concussion this time..."

Before he can turn and draw his weapon, I advance and blindside him with the bucket. He goes falling towards the floor, but at the same time his hand flies out of the jacket and out into the air goes his black communication device. Looking at my black ticket home briefly hovering waiting for gravity to notice it, I don't hesitate at all in dropping my weapon and snatching the device. I all but walk over the rat to grab it in time, but I manage to catch it.

Staring in disbelief that it was that easy, I firmly put my foot down on the rat's ribs before get to work on hacking the device... assuming I could get it open.

It didn't make sense. I wasn't expecting the device to respond to my touch, even primitive twentieth first century technology have that level of security. But I should be able to force it to respond if I could open the casing... there just didn't appear to be any casing. It looked like the sophisticated dimensional communication device I fixated on wasn't modeled after a twentieth first century smartphone, but instead nothing more than a smooth black stone.

Behind me, the seal makes another resounding "Arf arf arf". I ignore it's call for attention as I try to puzzle the device out, checking it's surface for some sign of a seam. 83N stirs with a groan so I press a little harder, only stopping when I feel a crack. Good, maybe a few broken ribs will make him cooperative if I can't get this thing working.

There's another protracted moment of silence as I work fruitlessly, my mind going in circles as I try and think of how to avoid talking to the fugitive again. Suddenly, the device boops in my hand. Flipping it around once or twice, I find that one of it's blank surfaces is now displaying a white speech bubble. Inside the bubble is a very simple phrase of "It's not you. It's me." I fiddle around a little lower on the surface to see if I can make a keypad appear to type a response, only to have device boop again. Looking back up I see another speech bubble with the words, "Me as in the rat whose chest cavity you're caving in."

I pause, and then with slow and deliberate action look down at the rat below me. He waves meekish at me, provoking me to ever so lightly press down on him again. He squeaks in pain, snapping me out of my unexplained rage long enough to lift my foot up and put it down away from him.

Rolling over, 83N carefully gets up while avoiding bending his torso. Once on his feet, he dusts himself off theatrically before speaking up again. "Right, as I was saying, maybe we can avoid any more of these tussels if I can prove you're only way out is to corporate." He gestures at the device in my hand. "That, is just granite. Nice polish, pretty sturdy, keeps people from looking at my like I'm crazy in coffee shops. Point is it isn't a communication device, it's a prop."

I raise my eyebrow. We have an extended silence as I wait for him to continue and he waits for me to ask the obvious question. The silence extends long enough for the seal to go "Arf arf arf" six times as he pokes around the room for fish.

Eventually he breaks first and a sigh of exasperation, quickly followed by a wince of pain. When he recovers he continues, "It's not the stone. It's me. I'm my own communication device. I open holes into the pitch black nothingness between worlds, why would I need a phone?" The rat walks around me back to the teakettle and turns back on the heat under the now lukewarm water. "Honestly, I mostly use it because I get a headache from mental heads up displays, or worse... instinctual reactions. Seriously, if you think people have a problem butt dialing with open face pones, imagine trying to get the right number when order a pizza with your kidneys?"

There's another extended silence between the two of us which he eventually breaks. "OK, please tell me you aren't seriously considering cutting me open and dialing home on my kidneys?"

I smirk, finally feeling like this game isn't so one sided. "It's a tactical decision I'd like to leave on the table."

83N rolls his eyes. "Listen, you have two beneficial options here. Either work with me and maybe get home before someone needs to deliver an MIA letter to your husband." I wince at that last part, realizing that with all my time unconscious I have no idea how long I've been away from Nathan this time. "Or, pretend to work with me and maybe get me to stand still long enough for the MMIB to find where we're at. A process that will be greatly slowed down every time you force me to drag you to a more secure reality."

I close my eyes for a moment, mentally dissecting the proposal he just put in front of me. It's... tempting... to be able to go back home. I really don't think realized until just a few minutes ago how much my fear of being lost forever was motivating me. But there is a problem with that... I'm MMIB. The director's will comes first. And last orders I had was to bring this fugitive in. "Small hole in this theory of yours," I say as I open my eyes, "What makes this world of only women secure? Especially compared to a floating iceberg at the end of time."

83N, of all things, laughs... and then immediately clutches his sides in pain. When he recovers, he begins pouring the tea as he explains, "Oh trust me, this world is plenty secure. First thing, there's a reason we're in a monastery. World outside these walls... just won't be as safe for men. Oh, they aren't primitive, but unethical scientist and hedonistic sociopaths... there would be plenty of unsavory ladies out there that would hunt either of us down if they knew there were live men on this planet." The rat holds out a cup of tea for me to take. "The Mother Superior might like things a bit on the rural side, but she's as moral as they come. You'd be skinned alive or worth before you found a better sanctuary."

I accept the tea as I digest this, information. I wasn't as helpless as he was implying, but without MMIB it would be a long time home. A long exhausting time if my status as male on this amazonian world was discovered. Still, it wasn't as primitive as the monastery suggested... this was just a stylistic choice of the nuns. Outside these walls there was technology... possibly very advanced technology. To find it all I had to do was walk out of here with nothing but the cloths on my back and...

My eyes pop open as I realize that sometime in the moments between assaulting 83N and stealing his prop rock, I had completely forgotten that I was still stark naked. Looking over at the rat and the way he is pointedly looking at the ceiling, I realize that we is at least currently aware of that fact as well.

My eyebrow twitches as I suppress another surge of anger... I've been getting a lot of those with 83N, and I'm going to have to figure out why before I lose it and strangle the rat. Yes, he's antagonistic to my goals, but that's a given as a fugitive. I just shouldn't feel so... enraged when I look at him.

83N suddenly notices that I'm looking directly at him in silence. Not wanting reveal a potential weakness before I have it under control, I pointedly point my free hand downward. "Cloths. Now."

Despite himself, the rat actually follows the direction of my finger, resulting in him almost dropping his tea as he quickly looks away. Reaching his free hand into his vest, he pulls out a selection of black cloth bundles for me.

Accepting the present with a smirk, I go about clothing myself. It isn't long, though, before I find something off with the ensemble. "...what is this?" I ask as I hold up one of the articles of clothing for inspection.

83N carefully glances towards my hands, "It's a kilt. Mother Superior has a thing about wearing pants in a house of the lord."

He attempts to look away again, but I thrust the garment straight up in his face before he can. "I meant the color! It's... black on black plaid... hurting my brain just looking at it."

83N just rolls his eyes. "Just put it on. It's not like there is anyone here that you would actually want to be looking at your bum, and you certainly can't look at your own."

Not really able to find fault with that logic, I dawn the affront to reality as a mere garment. "How in the world did you find this place, anyway? I mean, your file is a bit unclear on your orientation, but your psych profile just doesn't paint you as someone who would want to be the last man on earth."

83N is silent for a moment before turning back around with a grin I could only describe as glee. "Cause and effect," he answers cryptically. I raise an eyebrow, which is all the motivation he appears to need to launch into monolog. "It's only natural. For every action there is an opposite reaction. Sure, on a microscale it really only applies to physics, but on a macroscale... like lets say an entire reality at once."

I raise my eyebrows as he pauses at this point, as if expecting a reaction... or reaction. But that's just circular thinking. There's no way there could be any point to this statement. The conglomerate works on a scale of entire realities all the time and... "...you have got to be kidding me."

"Yep," he says with a bit too much perk in his voice... and then he blinks as he realizes what he just said in context. "...I mean no, I'm completely serious. I mean yes... I... it's exactly what you think it is."

I slam my hand down on the counter, causing the teapot to shake. "You cannot possibly mean that whenever the Nexus Conglomerate has created a reality composed entirely of men that..."

"...an entire universe composed entirely of women has been created as well," the rat finishes my sentence for me. "Of course not. That would be silly." I sigh in exasperation, wondering what the point was before he suddenly continues, "...but, in an infinite universe everything is bound to happen somewhere. And given how often NexCorp creates entire universes full of men, at least one universe composed entirely of women was bound to be generated eventually."

I sigh, finally getting the whole point, "And such a universe would by happenstance be within the NexCorp inventory of realities but unregistered. Perfect hiding spot."

83N hehs, "Well, nothing is perfect but this is close. Helps that I hedged my bets further by looking for an alternate future where Australia has become so conservative that it's not uncommon to find little monasteries dotting the Outback like city states." Walking over to the table and finally taking a seat, the rat puts his elbows on the table and head in his hands before looking looking at me again. "So... willing to sit down and have a little chat finally?"

I squint my eyes to over emphasize my evaluation of the idea... and my evaluation of the rat before me. He doesn't have as much control over the situation as he thought he did. I could get out of here on my own: I had a degree in quantum engineering and could construct my down distress beacon given time. And the safety this monastery provided wasn't the rat's to offer but this Mother Superior's; if I could an audience with her, I could negotiate different terms. Not to mention that all that assumed that the Director didn't just show and BE the Director.

Which really left me with just one question I needed to ask. Walking over to the other side of the table, I put my hands on a chair and leaned, looming over 83N. "And once again... what makes you think talking to me will accomplish anything? I don't control the MMIB; I'm just an agent. The entire Conglomerate follows the Directors will, the Muscular Men... In..." I pause, the word muscular echoing through my head. Looking to the right I hold up my arm and flex it in a brief gun show position. Yep same bulging biceps as before... bigger, actually.

83N coughs, drawing my attention back to him. "Yeah, you've been unconscious for a few weeks. I knew... well more of assumed... that someone of your impressive physique might resent not only the downtime but the atrophy, so..." He trails off, waving a hand in the air as he drags on the sentence. "...I kind of injected you with life support nanites that not only fed your body but gave it positive effects of a full body workout over the course of twelve hours."

I make note of another unexplained anger spike, but it's easily pushed aside as by the magnitude of what he just said. "A full body workout every twelve hours?" Even one full body workout every day was self destructive without recovery nanites from NexSport. Even with nanites, doing two full body routines at the gym was all but living there. Turning the chair around, I all but crash into it backwards. "...twelve ...hours?"

83N looks at me with concern on his brow. "...too little? I could increase to eight intervals but doing so post injection might be... messy." Standing up to get himself more tea, he continues, "Honestly, if it's that much of a problem you could always work out more now that you're awake. The maintenance and nutrient functions of the nanites will keep up with your physical activity."

Still taking in all the implications, I don't say anything until he sits back down again. "How long?"

"...will they last," the rat asks after his first sip. "Rough estimate... about forever. Though if you don't want them I'm sure NexReach can extract them and make a few quintillion in property damages trying to reverse engineer them."

Breathing out slowly, I close my eyes as I force further questions on these little machines swarming in my blood and bones. "Right... so that is what you're offering? Technology you've picked up in your travels?"

"What?" 83N responds, cocking his head to the side. "No. I'm not out to make the Conglomerate a profit. " He pauses, scrunching his face and biting his lips with his large incisors. "...actually, no. I am out to make the Conglomerate a profit. I'm just not doing so by increasing their income."

I cock an eyebrow in his direction, basic economics running through my head, "...no."

"Hmm..." he responds with a raised eyebrow. "No what." It's a statement, not a question. He knows what I'm talking about but just wants me to get the rant out of my system.

I don't disappoint him. "No. You are not going to negotiate your way out of your fugitive status by reducing overhead. No. You are not going to convince me we can never catch you because the entire fact that you're opening negotiations means you're afraid. No. I am not going to crush your skull between my bare hands!" I emphasize that last point by crushing my tea cup. No blood; this isn't my first stampede through china town.

Coughing again, the rat stands up and pulls out a rag from his vest that he uses to begin cleaning up my mess. "To your second point," he says as he works, "Have you ever thought that I just don't want to mess around with you guys anymore. I run away from enough things in my life without having a bunch of muscled lugs chasing me whenever I stop by conglomerate territory to ping a few comments to the director."

Breathing outwards slowly, I chide myself for losing control like that. There is something about this rat that is just... infuriating. "How do you do that," I ask. He responds with a raised eyebrow. "Message the Director directly." Even with dimensional communication technology, it didn't make sense. The Director just wasn't someone you could contact unless he already knew what you were going to say.

83N, of all things, smiles. "Would you believe we're playing a game?"

OK, so maybe it wasn't quite so mysterious why this rat was infuriating. I cross my arms, refusing to play his game of back and forth until he answers my question.

Taking the cue, he continues. "Somewhere out there in the infinite universe, there is a reality of humans; and I know you know what humans are, as an MMIB agent you've had to be transformed into one a dozen times at least." True. It was always unnerving being human. Just so... naked without any fur on.

"Point is," he continues, "Is that in this reality of humans, there is something called the internet. And on this internet, the subcultures of humanity congregate into echo chambers of like minded individuals. One of these subcultures, just happen to be a group of furless apes who would look at even plump little old me with a level of envy: furries." I've heard of the concept before, but for some reason it rarely comes up in MMIB duties on a human reality. Strange, considering what we normally do to humans.

"Now, one of those human furries is a writer... in fact let's call him that, Writer. And while he has many readers, let's signal out one of them for this discussion to be THE Reader, shall we? The Writer writes stories and shares them with his furry peers, and the Reader reads them and post somewhat overblown responses. Now, this is where things get complicated... do you know what a fursona is?"

I raise an eyebrow, "...that sounds like a corruption of the word persona. The role that an actor plays while on stage. Also used in psychology to talk about the mask one presents to the world."

"Yes," the rat nods, "It's that last one that we're concerned about. A fursona is persona crafted specifically for human furries to talk to each other, essentially representing their true self while remaining hidden behind computer screens. True self doesn't even need to mean they furry actually believes their fursona to literally be themselves; everything carries a stigma with it, so in choosing certain character traits the furry helps define themselves to others. Even someone who chooses to be a god is saying something very particular to his peers, and it usually has nothing to do about godhood."

"So," I interject, "what? Are you saying that the Writer and the Reader's fursonas are you and the Director?" Yes, I know, spoilers but the direction this story was going in was obvious.

"Close, but you switched the order." OK, so maybe not that obvious. "The Writer's fursona is a world that very much resembles the director, while the Reader's fursona resembles me. Oh, some details are wrong, but such distortions are to be expected when someone's work of fiction just happens to reflect someone else's reality. Point is, that while me and the Director are very different types of beings, we both sense our counterparts clearly despite any perception inaccuracies on their part. We see their communications between each other, and we choose to mirror them."

"...why?" I ask in disbelief, "Why would the director of the most powerful multidimensional corporation in the universe choose to imitate some human in a beatnik pure human reality who merely happens to pretend to be a wolf who resembles him on the internet?"

The rat shrugs, walking away from the table washcloth in hand. "Who's to say. I'm not in the Director's head. I just know I don't have anything better to do."

I scrunch my eyes in evaluation, "But... if you don't have anything better to do... why do you even care if the MMIB is chasing you?" 83N is strangely silent after all that monologuing. He briefly raises a finger as if he's going to answer... and then just trails off without saying anything that wasn't guttural uncertainty. Eventually, after all this, he just shrugs. "...you are completely insane."

"Certifiably," he responds, actually reaching into his vest and handing my a high quality piece of paper. Before I can examine it, the seal breaks it's long silence with another "Arf arf arf." Realizing that it's been silent for far too long, I look over towards the noise to find the seal ascending up the downwards stairwell... with a bucket on it's head. "Case in point, exhibit B," 83N responds. By the time I look back towards him I may as well not have as he is getting up and walking over towards the seal.

"Just what is that seal, anyway," I ask as he fusses with the thing to get the bucket off it's head.

"This big baby," he clarifies as he reaches into his vest and pulls out modestly large fish to give to the seal. "He's a child star I'm trying to rescue from mediocrity." I tilt my head to the left and raise an eyebrow, prompting further explanation. After standing up, he eventually gives it. "He's Flipper, the Exploding Baby Seal Pup."

I real back a little bit, just staring in disbelief. I'm shocked out of my daze and my chair when Flipper barks out another "Arf arf arf," asking for more fish. Scrambling away from the beast without standing up, I find myself quickly backed up against the wall before I compose myself enough to stand up.

"Oh will you relax," the rat exasperates as he bends down to rub Flipper's neck. "Those days are behind him. He's an adult now, he doesn't blow up anymore... either that or he's now so explosive to be considered nuclear." Actually kneeling down to turn the rub down into a full hug, 83N continues, "I found him and a bunch of other deadly cute creatures in some librarians collection somewhere. They seemed well taken care of, but a little... bored. So I found homes for all of them. Well, most of them. Still haven't found just the right place for Flipper here."

As the rat continues to rub down the living bullhorn, I'm left with a trail of thought. I'm on a foreign world at the whims of a mad man, with a living nuclear bomb as a bunk mate, and an entire Australian Outback between me and any technology that can help me escape. I'm sorry Nathan, but I might not be making it out of this one.