FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Hello everyone. Yet again, it's another off-the-top-of-my-head story. This time, I copied it down as I thought it up and did some revisions. This story is muchly based from a game called Alice, which, in retrospect, was pretty much Alice in Wonderland on crack, weed, acid, and meth all rolled into one, with a side of monkey brain stew. Take it from me: Creepy. This is a little parody I wrote, depicting the adventures of a boy, Jacob Wilkins, and his adventures through a mind-based world called Dnal Rednow, which spelled backwards says Wonder Land. It features the all-too famous characters ranging from the Cheshire Cat to the Mad Hatter all the way to the Queen of Hearts, all in my own style of how I imagined them, and all a bit furry. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Jake tossed and turned in his bed. He couldn't seem to get to sleep. Of course...who could, when the strangest things visited ones imagination? See, Jake had no problems with money, food, shelter, or anything. His only problem was that...well...lets just say he had a very active imagination. Jake could spend hours doing nothing but imagining things. People, places, things, odd creatures, magical lands, evil villains. You name it, he had probably imagined it. And that is exactly why he was currently in the insane asylum he was in. His parents thought it was for the best, since he seemed to care more about his art, his imagination, and his fuel of cartoons and suger cereal than anything else. Especially at his age of 17, he was considered beyond childish. He was considered downright looney! So off he went, the men in their nice white shirts dragging him, screaming, down the pathway to the car. Strangely enough, when they reached the asylum, a raggedy black cat began following the boy as he was forced into the asylum doors. The cat stared at him with eyes that seemed to suggest, "Don't worry...we'll keep in touch..." And so, here sat Jacob Klinestin Wilkins of 67 Broadview Pines, in a small, rarely-visited area of Britain, located exactly a half mile from the nearest bakery, 3 miles from the hobby shop, and 47 kilometers from the asylum. He wasn't insane and he knew it. If only he could break out! If only he could somehow defy physics! If only he could...if only. If only!? IF ONLY, IF ONLY, IF ONLY, IF ONLY! That was getting him nowhere! He needed action. However, that was going to be difficult with the strait jacket on. "Hm...maybe I can be of assistance?", said a peculiarly pleasant voice from nowhere. "H-hello?", said Jake, in a stammering voice, "Who's there?" "A raggedy old black cat, and nothing more...", said the raggedy old black cat, who sat upon the window sill. "A talking cat? I must be insane, then. Crazy. Loopy. Odd. Strange. Mad-as-a-hatter!", said Jake, laughing. "Mad-as-a-hatter, you say? No...the hatter is much madder than you. As for insane, you must be, if I'm talking to you, correct?", said the cat, smiling in the odd way that he did. "Must be. So tell me, any way out of this jacket? I believe I'm not insane, and yet I must be. But the jacket is quite tight," he said, standing up. "Well, I'd say there is. You're insane, correct?" Jake nodded at this statement. "So then, logic has no true hold on you, correct? Now tell me, you saw the orderlies lock the jacket tight, correct again?" Jake nodded again. "Well, since logic has no hold on you, it must not be locked." Jake thought about this. "But...I SAW them lock it. It's tight around me!" he said, almost screaming it. "Yes, so it is. Maybe not, though. Logic would tell you that the lock is locked and you're locked within the lock's locking embrace. Well, for an insane man such as yourself, that must not hold fast, since it is obviously unlocked...", said the cat with a smile. Jake thought this through, then walked over the windowsill, pointing a finger at the cat. "Now listen here! I saw them lock it and..." He stopped and looked down...there was no jacket on him anymore. He turned and looked behind him. The jacket lay on the bed, front-down. He could clearly see the lock still locked on the jacket. "Oh...well...that's interesting. I suppose there's more than one way to skin a cat, eh?" The cat simply stared at Jake, "A very unpleasant metaphor, please avoid using it in the future..." Jake sighed, "Eh...sorry then. Anyway, how do you propose I get out of this room then?" The cat smirked and laughed, "Who said you were ever in the room in the first place, Jacob?" Jake thought again. Yes. Who said I was ever in here? I heard noone say that 'Jacob is in room 11B'. Whats to say I'm not...in a far away land where I can be...whatever I want to be? He almost seemed to float on air as he now stood near a huge round table in what appeared to be a military tent. Surrounding him was a group of furred men, all dressed in what looked to be armor, though not very heavy looking. A tiger, a clydesdale, a white-tail deer. Many others, as well. They all stared at him, looking anxious. One, a small field-mouse furry, spoke up, "Well, sir? What's our plan?" Jake stood there, dumbfounded. Plan? What plan? Jake began to speak when a white vixen walked beside him, "Don't expect a plan so soon. He is, after-all, just a novice commander. Go about your duties for a bit and let him gather himself...you're dismissed,men." They all grumbled a bit and walked out. Jake turned. "Thanks, miss...uh...what's your name exactly?", he said, still a bit confused. "My name is unimportant, really. But if you must know, I'm Amelia Duble Dee," she said, smiling a bit, "And you would be...?" He stammered a bit as he spoke now, noticing that her uniform was a bit...revealing, "J-Jacob Klinestin Wilkins, ma'am." She smiled, looking at him up and down, "Hm...Commander Wilkins? Not much of a ringer, is it? Well, you are obviously confused, aren't you? Who sent you? Mad Hatter? Cheshire Cat? Dor Mouse? March Hare?" He thought for a second, brows furrowed a bit. "Um...I suppose it was the Cheshire Cat? I'm not sure..." "Well, are you insane or disturbed?" Jake said he didn't think so. "Are you over-hyper or over-talkative?" He shook his head. "How about emotionally unstable or slow-witted?" He shook his head again. "Creative and keep to yourself?" He nodded. "The Cat, most likely. He goes after creative people for recruiting, mangy old cat..." "Heh...could you please explain whats going on?", he said, hands shaking. Amelia nodded and walked behind her to a door leaning against the side of the tent. She waved for him to follow her and opened the door and stepped through,closing it gently behind her. Jake shook his head, as if clearing something from his mind and looked behind the door. Nothing was back there. He walked to the front of it and opened it to find a room behind it, leaning slightly downhill. He stepped inside and closed the door to find that the room wasn't tilted. It was just...strange. It looked like an office, with a window that showed a city behind it. The vixen, sitting at one of the two desks in the room, smiled. "Ah, surprised? Logic would say this room doesn't exist, wouldn't it? Well, my new friend... tell your logic to go home and lock the door. It has no rule here in Dnal Rednow, Jacob." He quickly asked again for an explaination. She finally explained that a war was going on. People thought they were safe in their own minds, when in fact, their minds were interconnected and formed the world he was now in. Dnal Rednow was made up of nightmares, dreams, conjurations, and all sorts of things. His own imagination dictated his own personal "aura". He could become anything, within reason. His own subconsious, though, limited what he could do and what he couldn't. Such as, if he were afraid of spiders, he couldn't become a spider unless he conquered that fear. If he had a fear of ghosts, he couldn't turn semi-solid and pass through walls. It was a strange thing, to say the least. Her? She was his conjuration, to be honest. He suddenly remembered when he was 15, he drew a picture of her. He was into furries, a lot. He had even named her. He smiled a bit at the memory. She looked at him again, smiling as well. "So...you'll need a new identity to fit in with this crew, Jake. See, they're all the conjurings of a certain war-furry fiend by the name of Marcus Haltnie. I believe you know him, correct? A certain friend you have in high school? Anyway, he created them and...well...we're involved in a war-of-sorts. His conjurings are fighting against the conjurings of...well...an 11 year old anime fan who loves giant robots. Its pretty one-sided, really. But, you're a commander now, so..." Jacob looked out the window. There was indeed a city, but...it was almost destroyed completely. He noted that way down on the street, furries and gigantic machines were fighting, the machines clearly winning. He also saw the tent he had been in...faaaaaar below him. He gulped a bit and turned, "Uh...so...I should become a furry? How, exactly?" She stood up and hit him across the forhead with a paw, "Use your head, how else?" She giggled then, and walked out, leaving him alone. He sighed and slunk to the floor, back against a wall. Use his head? Use his...of course! "Yes! My imagination dictates this place, duh! Its simple!" He stood up, smiling, and thought of the one image he knew better than anything else. He closed his eyes. When he opened them, he stood wearing a militant uniform and was covered in white fur. He looked...exactly like Amelia. White hair, white fur, huge tits, long fluffy tail, and a taste for dick. He shrugged and, after a few alterations (more tails, more male-like, a sheath and sac, no big tits,and a cooler uniform) he stood as a white-furred kitsune male, instead of a white-furred vixen prostitute. He smiled again as his hair turned black and grew into a sort-of mane down his back, blending into his back fur. Stretching a bit, he walked out the door and back into the tent. Amelia, standing there, looked at him with surprise. "Wow...you do dress-up nice, don't you? Very...how do I put this? Sexy. Yes, that's it. But, no time for cock, only time for attacking. Better come up with something good. Might want to hurry, too." She walked out of the tent, leacing him alone again. He walked outside into a small base-camp, where furres stood, staring at the kitsune. He looked up and around. He wasn't used to this, so it took him awhile to figure something out. "Ok, men. Its pretty cut-and-dry. We're gonna blow up that huge office building and send debris and about 89% of the building smashing into the robots, which are conveniently places below it. Any questions?" One, a bulldog with a scar over his left eye, barked a bit. Everyone looked to him as he spoke, "Eh...And how we gonna do dat, eh? Not like we gots anyone stupid enough to strap explosive to demselves and go runnin' onto da battlefield to blow onea' dem support beams out, ya' know what I'm sayin'?" And only 15 minutes later, that same bulldog stood with a vest of explosives strapped to his chest, detonator in hand. Jacob smiled and spoke, "Heh. We'll miss you, buddy. So will New Joisey," he said, mocking the dog's Jersey accent. He sent the dog on his way, not paying attention to his grumbling and turned to face the troops, "What's everyone looking at? Nothin' happening here. Back to your tents. Take the day off." Everyone cheered and rushed to their tents. Jake walked past the vixen, smirking. She turned, watching him, "That was a fine plan. Creative, too. And humorous. See you later then?" He nodded and walked into his own tent. Inside, a grey-black cat furre stood, looking at him with a wide grin, wearing military fatigues and a green vest that was as tattered as his fur. "Cheshire Cat, I presume?" said Jacob. "Cheshire is such a wrong term. I like to think I'm at least noble, dispite my appearance. You've survived the first trials and tribulations, Jacob, but more lie ahead. That bulldog was a nasty fellow, true, and deserves his fate. And quite a good look for you, too. The fox-dog skin you wear, whitened fur and blackened hair. Let not fate decide your path, but screw some chicks and get some ass. A little something for your travels. We'll keep in touch, dear boy. I'm watching you, so sleep with one eye closed and one on the darkest corner of the room." He said this, then dissapeared into shadows. Jake sat on his cot, then lay down just as Amelia entered the room and climbed onto the cot on the other side of the room. Soon, both were asleep. Yes, creator and guide. Times would soon change further for Jake. The next morning, he awoke to a surprise, as he was now lying in a large, lush bed of fine silk, Amelia next to him, both nude. The room was white, sterling bright, and full of lavish objects. The door opened across the room and a dalmation wearing a headset looked through, "Five minutes, Mister Wilkins! Five Minutes!" Jacob simply stared and groaned, laying back against the fluffy pillows. He turned to look at Amelia, "Let me guess...one problem solved..." "...And another begins. Don't worry, though, Jake. I'm here to guide you. Why else would a beautiful vixen such as myself hang around with a comic-book endulging, video game-loving geek like you? Wanna know? I'm YOUR creation, Jacob, and I love ya', " she giggled again, "and besides...with a sheath like that, I can't resist you. I don't imagine ANY girl could." "Yes, Jacob..." said the Cat, who sat in the corner, "You've become a Creator Journeymen. There are four types of Journeymen, boy. The Shatters, insane people brought in to destroy dangerous thoughts. The Amoks, who are hyperactive people who come here to confuse the enemy. The Demolishers, emotionally unstable beings who can obliterate thoughts that even Shatters can't handle. And...Creators, " he pointed a long, chipped claw at Jacob, " who take positions in the worlds and solve problems without destruction of the thoughts. And since you were a major fan of these furres, you'll be helping other fanatics as well. Just be careful, Jake, my boy. The obvious is quite often as unimaginably obscure as the mysterious, while the amazingly strange is often the obvious, without the obscureness to it. Beware the Jabberwock, avoid the gaze of the Pawns, don't eat the mushrooms, caution for the mundane. And most of all: Avoid the deck of cards, lest the Queen of Hearts find you." And he dissapeared, leaving these cryptic clues behind. Jake looked to Amelia again, confused, "Uh...who exactly IS the enemy?" Amelia smirked, "Well, Jacob. I'd say it's the Queen of Hearts. She who controls nightmares, commands creatures, and eliminates troublesome interlopers...it's a who's who game of guess the villain...and you're playing for your life." Jacob shook his head and lay back on the bed. Queen of Hearts? Hm... * * *

Deep in the gigantic castle of stone and nightmarish material, the Queen sat on her throne, cloaked in shadows. A guard, who resembled a large playing card with a heart on it, walked calmly to the throne and bowed respectfully. "What news do you bring me!?" said the queen in a forceful yet sensual voice. "There's another Creator, Your Highness...and by the looks of it, a powerful one. He's in the Realm of Furres. He conquered one dream already...he may yet save more." said the guard without a moments notice. The Queen's eyes glowed red and she leapt from the throne in fury, the guard's head now lying at her feet. One of her arms, a nightmarish scythe-clawed hand covered in black oily skin, was now slightly stained with blood. Her face was beautiful, with crimson eyes, and her hair was long and black-as-coal. She wore a lovely garment of crimson silk, with fur trimmings. She growled a bit, looking up at a group of other guards, "Well!? What are you waiting for!? GO GET HIM! OFF WITH HIS HEAD!" She said. She shouldn't have been so worried, but she had a feeling about this Creator. She stood, her arm returning to normal. Her eyes became darker as she turned into a Badger furre, except with red fur instead of black. She walked towards the door, teeth gleaming, "But...since he'll most likely kill you...I'll have to follow along, boys." She laughed an evil, malice-filled laugh and shut the doors on her throne room, leaving it empty except for the corpse of the guard. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ah...the art of story-telling! More chapters to come though! Jacob has more in store,since things become wierder for him as he meets a draconic hero, the maddest hatter of them all, a king of clubs with a divorce problem, a little lizard girl trapped in her own mind, a stuttering Jabberwock-kin, a ninja with a urinary-tract infection, an elf-chick who can't get a clue, a falcon-boy whos having an identity crisis, and the cost of true love: his head. Stay with me on this, as this is sure to be full of fun and hot yiffing! This is a true labor of love, people. So see ya in Logic Takes a Flying Leap Chapter Two:The Knight, the Lizard, and the Theatre.