FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

"And you are?" She heard a timid, fragile-sounding voice tried its damn-est to be firm and official.

"Oh. Um. Isabella Armana?" She couldn't see anything. The light was still blinding her, and she had the prickling sensation of at least a hundred stage-lights spotting down on her nude form at once, radiating enormous heat across her fur. She felt perspiration dripping down her neck and across her bare breasts. There was a temptation to swipe at it, but she'd been told to hold as perfectly still as possible.

"Which one, for goodness sakes? There's a hundred and twelve!" came the harried reply.

"Oh. Um, K-Kensington, United Kingdom?" The vixen shifted her footpaws nervously. "Corner of Briar Lane and Summit, Flat 105?" She heard furious typing for a few moments, and perked an ear curiously. "You have computers...here?"

There was no answer but the light did finally fade enough where she could squint into the darkness ahead of her. There were two shadowy shapes there. One was short, squat, and rectangular, and resembled a brobdingnagian desk. As the light vanished and Isabella could open violet eyes normally, she could see that the desk was dark brown oak, richly dotted with ornate carvings of demon-wolves taking wing. As she stared at one particular etching on the desk, one of the wolves stuck out his tongue at her before shifting back to his original pose.

The other shape sat behind the desk, and it too was short and squat, but not as rectangular. Antique silver spectacles on a silver chain sat on his beak, and his white-and-black short feathers were covered by a ratty-looking shawl. From beneath the scant article of cloth, long gray, spiky hair trailed like vines.

"You're a...a penguin?" Isabella couldn't help but notice, and took a step closer to the desk.

The penguin tilted his head up at her, as if she'd asked the most daft question in the world. "Bless my soul? Am I?" He snapped at her, and then bent his head down to continue typing on a computer that looked at least thirty years old. He stabbed down on the "enter" key and the computer made loud whirring noises, threatening to explode. Mercifully it just beeped three times, and something like a smile traced across the penguin's beak. "There. Finally." He reached inside and pulled out a five-and-a-quarter inch floppy disk. He waved the floppy disk a few times in a finned hand and it disappeared in a poof of red smoke. "Alright, Miss Armana. You may take a seat now."

The penguin pushed an unseen button underneath the huge desk and a sturdy metal chair appeared up from the floor. Isabella looked around her before sitting down shyly, trying to cover her breasts with her arms.

"Oh, knock it off," the penguin scoffed, shaking his head. "We'll have none of that here. Clothes do not exist here. Everyone is bare, and that is just the way they are meant to be. You'll get quite far in your new life if you remember that."

Isabella nodded. "I see...but...you're wearing, well, a shawl." She ignored the pained expression from the penguin and carried forward in a rush. "And you're a penguin. It seems absurd that you would be in such a place as this. Shouldn't you be where it's cold? In the ice and snow? And what about me? This is absolutely ridiculous! I don't belong here! I'm a good vixen! I stayed out of trouble all my life and I-"

"Ms. Armana, everyone asks me why they are here, and I answer the same way. You are here for a reason. And that is that." He said no more, looking at her with cold, expressionless blue eyes, magnified comically behind the spectacles.

"And do they ask what the reason is?!" The vixen retorted, growling.

The penguin sighed heavily. "Yes, but I cannot answer that. It requires me to finger my way through files, countless documents, and complicated testimonials, and frankly, I don't like to do it."

Isabella folded her arms. "I demand to know what the reason is for my being in Hades, Mr. Penguin. And I shan't move from this spot until you tell me."

The old penguin looked disgusted at her, then sighed again and pressed another unseen button. A large, long lick of orange flame billowed out from a spot in the ceiling, and had the vixen not scurried away from her chair in fright and rolled to the carpet, she'd have been toasted like a crumpet.

"Very well." Isabella got to her feet, seemingly un-fluffed and unfazed. "I shall not move from this spot until you-"

Another billow of flame burst from the ceiling and the vixen again had to duck and roll away, landing unceremoniously on her back this time, looking wild-eyed. "Alright, alright! You made your point."

The penguin smiled. "They usually get it eventually." He got up magnanimously from his chair and waddled over to the girl on the floor. For some moments, he looked at her intently, from the long, black hair, to the soft russet-and-brown fur, to the two petite white-furred footpaws. "Miss Armana, you are here to stay, and there is nothing you can do about it. However, you do have several options, and if you'll be so kind as to get back in your seat, we can discuss them at length." He gestured to the chair, kindly this time, then waddled back to his desk.

Isabella sat up from the floor and rubbed at one of her singed ears, then still glaring at the penguin took her chair, keeping her eyes plastered to the ceiling - which was made of red and ebony streaked plaster. "Alright," she said quietly, "I'm listening."

The penguin nodded and sat back in his chair, perfectly content to be back in charge of the situation. "Miss Armana, what do you know about demonology?"

The vixen crinkled her eyes. "Um...the study of...demons...?"

The penguin rolled his own. "And apart from that?"

Isabella sighed exasperatingly. "Nothing, alright? It wasn't exactly part of my education in Catholic school!"

The penguin looked surprised. "Oh, you're part of the Catholicism nonsense, good. That actually plays in your favor. And you're still a virgin, according to our records, which is another plus."

The vixen snorted. "I'm shocked. You know I've never had sex, yet you don't know my religion."

"We tend to keep that a personal, private matter, Miss Armana. A shame you mortals never caught on to that, wot? Anyway, time is wasting, and I've several others to see today." The penguin got up from his chair and went towards the back of the dark room. Isabella heard a file cabinet open and slam shut, and he reappeared out of the blackness holding several pieces of red paper.

"Here now, what's this then?" Isabella curled her legs up in the chair, suddenly worried.

"This," the penguin placed the papers on the desk and pushed them towards her. "is an application, my dear girl. You are just over eighteen, thus past the primary age of consent. You are allowed to, shall we say, come into service here in Section A157U-38-4197-56."

The girl blinked stupidly. "Section...what?"

The penguin tapped the papers. "I'm not going to bother repeating myself, Miss Armana. I just need you to answer one question for me, and it is a simple yes or no answer. There is no obligation, of course." He watched the vixen pick up the papers and look through them carefully. "Miss Armana," he asked slowly, "Would you like to join Infernal Affairs as a third-class demon?"

The vixen stared at the penguin for a moment, looked at the complicated application form she'd been given, then at him again. "Well...I...I really don't know..." She bit her lip in thought. "What's it pay?"