{"sf1_id":1106773,"sf2_id":"znJglVB1","title":"Personal Introduction","author":"jechoes90","words":613,"posted_at":"2016-12-15T18:37:00.000Z","tags":["Bat","Costume","Disguise","Gloves","Introduction","Mask","debut"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/1106773-personal-introduction","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/znJglVB1","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/e6/49/e6494c9c-edef-4f79-b756-f371daadcbab","description":"DISCLAIMER: Please do not take anything you read here literally. I am not really missing my middle fingers, I just wrote that as a metaphor for a personal struggle of mine.\nBut yeah, here's my personal introduction. I will be uploading this story here, at weasyl, and at furaffinity. I'm trying to extend my audience as far as possible.","content":"Personal Introduction\n\nMy name is Jordan Echoes. Let's call a spade a spade: my last name is a pun.\u0026nbsp;No one else\u0026nbsp;in my family is a bat, though. My parents are straight out humans, my older brother is a tyrannosaurus,\u0026nbsp;my older sister is a bald eagle, and my younger sister is a scorpion. I guess I get to be a\u0026nbsp;bat by virtue of being the first to remove my human disguise (in front of you guys, anyway). I'm\u0026nbsp;not bragging, though. I still have to wear it in front of other people, although sometimes a patch\u0026nbsp;of fur sneaks out from under my gloves.\u0026nbsp;That's me over there, the blue\u0026nbsp;guy non-chalantly flinging the latex mask behind him. Not\u0026nbsp;much to look at, huh? I'm not great with the pen tablet. Or else, I'm using the wrong software for\u0026nbsp;the kind of drawing I was trying to imitate. Or I could just be plain ugly, with or without my\u0026nbsp;human mask.\n\nAnyway, I'm a leaf-nosed bat. In lieu of wings, I have webbed claws. I can't honestly say\u0026nbsp;I would use wings if I had them. God only knows the number of things I have that I don't use;\u0026nbsp;clothing, furniture, books... my mom once advised me against turning my room into the local\u0026nbsp;library. To hell with that. I already am the local library, and the rural one, too. I digress. On the\u0026nbsp;matter of clothes, the ensemble you see make me look something like a waiter. Appropriate. I've\u0026nbsp;pretty much been a lackey wherever I've been. I've never worked in the food industry; No, my\u0026nbsp;line of work involved shelving books at a library, and I couldn't even do that right.\u0026nbsp;More on that later, if I haven't already scared you away, like most of the other people\u0026nbsp;I've tried to befriend. You may have noticed my missing middle fingers. I sliced those off when I\u0026nbsp;was seventeen. Deliberately. The fact is, I'm so afraid of offending people that little thoughts like\u0026nbsp;that enter my head from time to time. That was the only time I've ever consummated it. My\u0026nbsp;parents made me buy a couple of prostheses for my human gloves, which makes the occasional\u0026nbsp;bird inevitable. Ironic, isn't it?\n\nThen there's the issue of my shackles and hand-cuff. I don't know if anybody else can\u0026nbsp;see them. You certainly can, and so can I, but what about the people I meet in person? They're a\u0026nbsp;survivor of my Baptist upbringing. Up until sometime last year, I've been a slave to my religious\u0026nbsp;community's convictions. I hesitate to say joining the furry community is proof of my liberation,\u0026nbsp;lest somebody from both groups stumble across this and challenge my assertion. I will say that I\u0026nbsp;have a fairly certain idea of where my cuff and shackles came from, though. I have an acute\u0026nbsp;awareness of how my childhood, teenhood, and collegehood culture has influenced me.\n\nDoes this all seem depressing? Do I sound like I'm trying to wring pity out of you? I\u0026nbsp;draw your attention to my handcuff-free wrist. That's my \"pencil hand.\" I believe that I can find\u0026nbsp;a way out. I found a way out of my spiritual confinement, and I found a way out of my\u0026nbsp;professional confinement, and I can find a way out of my social confinement. I couldn't do it\u0026nbsp;alone; I needed the help of a counselor along the way. And I'll take any morale support I can get.\n\nRight now, all I have to offer is my honesty. I know that words alone can only convey so\u0026nbsp;much, but my hope is that the semi-autobiographical short stories that follow will lend you\u0026nbsp;understanding and, God willing, lead to a little heart-to-heart conversation. I yeard for your\u0026nbsp;companionship. I've spent so much time hiding this side of my personality. I don't want to hide\u0026nbsp;it anymore.\n\n  \n  \n\n"}