In a room
The sign reads
"Welcome all new travellers.
To continue you must go through a series of doors.
After going through you will pick a costume. You will then become a half- human and half that creature.
After a week(100 mins a hour,20 hrs a day,10 days a week) has passed you may morph and get another costume. To start of with you will only be able to become 40% human to 60% human.
If you put on a costume you will then become that creature, be teleported to it's home town and have to wait a week before being able to morph.
After 50 costumes you may change into one of your other costumes and become 30% to 70% human. When changing costumes you must wait at least an hour before you can change costumes again.
100 different species/gender costumes allows you to gender-morph and become 20% to 80% human
200 different species costumes allows you to combine costumes and become 10% to 90% human
400 different species costumes allows you to return to your world with no more morphing
And 800 different species costumes makes a polymorph and allows you to morph outside of this world.
Also if you have a costume like a centaur then the human part will always be human and is counted towards the human percentage.
Any gender/species transformation magic of yours can only change your gender(if you have at least 100 costumes) and the animal part to a different animal.
When you change into a different costume (that you already have) you may teleport to that species home town but you will have the week penalty where you have no costume changes.
If you die while wearing a costume you will be reborn at the local inn (or appropriate location ). If you have more then 100 costumes you will lose the costume you had when you died and go to an appropriate place for your next costume.
If you fail to make it out in 100 years(100 weeks in a year) one of your possible forms will be chosen and you will be permanently stuck in that form(apart from magic) until you die. Also there will be no possibility of going back to your world.
Also, one final note: should you take a female form and become pregnant, you won't be able to change your gender until the child is born, though the other aspects of your form may change (the child will change to match.) That is all, and good luck!
You realise that you have to do what the sign said to do and go through the doors and grab a costume.
Alternatively you could use the key system to determine the room
Written by Catprog on 11 February 2004
Normal Land
You go through the door.
All of a sudden it slams shut and with no handle on this side it appears that you are stuck.
There are two more doors however and both of them have a sign on them saying
Costume room for
Element: Land
Type: Normal
Gender: ????
So which door do you want
Written by Catprog on 26 February 2004
Female Normal Land
You go through the door.
All of a sudden it slams shut and with no handle on this side it appears that you are stuck.<P/>There are five costumes in this room, all of them female, all of them are normal land creatures.
- Snake <li><span class="female">Wolf</span></li>
Written by Catprog on 26 February 2004
Vixen
You find a Vixen costume. You then read the instructions on the costume for how to put it on and you strip so it will fit properly. You start by slowly sinking your legs into the costumes having to make a slight effort to begin with to fill the slender egs.
Finally you get it put on up to your waist and slip your arms down into it as well. You pull the zipper up on the front and sigh a little the costumes chest feeling a little tight.
Finally you bring the hood up over your face and start to adjust it so you can see out the eye holes.
As you adjust the mask you start to feel a tingling sensation washing all down the front and back of your body.
You stare in surprise as the chest seems to swell and gain weight, though the tight feeling vanishes as the breasts grow to a large size. You reach a hand to touch the now heavy orbs and can't help but gasp as you feel the pressure of your fingers on the sensitive flesh of your breast.
The tingle washes over your groin now and a pleasure shoots up through your spin causing you tail to swish about with life.
You realise you are no longer wearing a costume, you are a Vixen.
As you adjust the mask you start to feel a tingling sensation washing all down the front and back of your body.
You suddenly feel a enjoyable sensation as an air current picks up and even now you are wearing a costume you can feel it. Then you realise you're no longer wearing a costume, you<spanSumTF>You</spanSumTF> are a Vixen.
Written by on 05 August 2005
And Then...
As you stand there and stare in confused awe at your new body, the world seems to blur around you, leaving you in a muddle of gray blurs. Waves of energy twist themselves around your body and fade away into strips of cloth.
When they have finished, you find you are now clothed in a simple cloth shirt and knee-length skirt. The shirt is white and the skirt is black, and the fabric is somewhat coarse compared to what you are used to. You haven't been clothed with underwear of any kind.
Reaching a tentative, curious hand up to your new breasts, you find that they support themselves just fine without the aid of a brassiere thanks to a layer of muscle just under the skin, and you guess that you aren't wearing any undershorts because they would be a pain to get over your tail. Still, it's disconcerting to have your privates left uncovered except for a skirt (notoriously vulnerable to light breezes) and to have only one layer between the rest of the world and the new features of your chest that you hope people won't pay attention to.
While you are contemplating this, the grayness starts to come back into focus, resolving into a picturesque hilltop overlooking a small village that might have come from the late 1920s back on your Earth. You realize with a start that part of the costume deal involved spending a week in your new form, in its native environment. Whether you like it or not, you're going to get a crash course in living as an anthropomorphic vixen. You wonder whether you'll be given a place to stay during your week. Living as a vixen is bad enough; you'd hate to have to be homeless while you're doing so.
Written by nothingsp on 25 July 2006
Your New Home
In a bit of a daze, you walk down the hill towards the village. Trying to look nonchalant, you stick your hands into a couple of pockets that you find in your skirt. In one of them, you find a crumpled bit of paper. You pull it out and uncrumple it. A street address is written on it.
Walking down into the village, you succeed in finding the address on the paper. It's a small white house, mostly nondescript. Walking up to the door, you knock. Nobody answers. The thought occurs to you that perhaps this is your house, but the door seems to be locked.
You check under the doormat, but no key is to be found. You're just about to give up and break a window when you feel something in...much as you hate to think about it, in your cleavage. Looking down at your chest, you find that you're wearing a small chain necklace with a key on it. You reach around the back of your head to unclasp it.
The key fits the lock, and you go in, shutting the door behind you. From the small coatroom, you make your way through the hall and into the kitchen. On the table is a note. Picking it up, you read.
Dear Player-At-My-Little-Game:
I, the person writing this note, am the creator of the costume house. As you may have guessed, I'm a reasonably powerful wizard. But this is all quite beside the point. You've taken your first new form, and I sincerely hope you're enjoying it. (If you aren't, I suggest you try to, as it will make your time in this form much easier, psychologically speaking. And should you find you like it enough, you could even forfeit the game and stay in your present form in this world forever.) You now must spend a Multiverse Standard Week (as noted earlier on, this is something closer to two Earth weeks) in your present form before moving on. To make this easier, lodgings suitable to your form have been and will continue to be provided. (Of course, "suitable lodgings" depends on both the anthropomorphism of your current form and the type of shelter standard in your new homeworld.
If you're in a non-anthropomorphic form, you'll be provided with a simple den matching the dwellings made by others of your new species. But if you're anthropomorphic, you'll have a homeworld-average house provided.)
You'll also be provided with a means of sustenance (reasonable hunting/foraging skills if non-anthropomorphic or placed in a primitive culture, a job if anthropomorphic.) What you do from there is up to you, but remember that you must make it out in 100 years (10,000 MSW weeks) if you wish to return to your own Earth.
When you finish reading the note, you sigh and look around. This will be your home for a couple Earth weeks. You have no idea what you're going to do.
Written by nothingsp on 25 July 2006
Travesty!
You pace back and forth a bit, looking analytically at the plush couches,heavy curtains and flimsy wood table of your new domicile. You run a paw over your vulpine face idly.
A wizard, then. A wizard that takes the time to communicate, no less. And *reasonably* powerful? If he's imbued 800 (or more!) costumes with transformative abilities with links to 800 (or more!) alternate dimensions, then... you'd hate to see a "powerful" wizard.
He's got you trapped here, trapped in this "game." But... as far as you can tell, it's not a game like the "games" that the guy on Saw liked to play. You haven't been hurt, and beyond the awkwardness of owning bosoms and a womb, you haven't really been inconvenienced. As far as you can tell, if you keep a steady head and play nicely by the rules, you'll be let go unharmed.
But, then... how to play right now? For a while, you play Sims, going to your closet and replacing your skirt and v-neck with tasteful long pants and a long-sleeved T-shirt. You look at yourself in the closet mirror.
Suddenly, you're excited. This is great! Essentially, you've been camouflaged, given the ability to observe this culture of anthropomorphic foxes, which you hadn't usually thought of as a culture but still! Maybe you can adopt a fake name and masquerade! Or maybe even tell everybody the truth--"Hello all, I'm an Earthling male" (right?) "and I was placed into a huge labyrinth full of transforming costumes and this is the first one I picked!
Tee hee!" That should be entertaining.
You want to see outside again, get out of the house. Your paw closes around the door handle and when it opens, there's a male fox all up in your grill, with his paw held up in a knocking position.
"Whoa! Hey there! Sorry about that! Are you..." the fox consults a piece of paper, "Is your name <WHOA it's a feminine version of YOUR name!>?"
"Ah... yeah. It is," you reply.
The fox leans forward and licks your cheek. You gather this is their way of shaking hands. It was good you gathered that because otherwise that would have been very awkward.
"I'm Bragho!" Bragho says. "I'm here to show you around the Northern workplace!"
"Bray-go..." you repeat. "Wait... work?!"
Hey, this is a friggin' quest, for crying out loud! You didn't come here to wash no dishes! Yet the note on your table said it was your way to sustenance and survival... considering the full extent of your transformation, you have a sudden paranoid foreboding about the kinds of "work" that will be offered...
"Oh, are you feeling all right?" Bragho asks, ears pricked.
<Play by the rules just hear him out play nice play nice...>
"Oh, ah... no, I'm fine," you reply. You look around reflexively for a bag to gather. Having none, you turn back to the black-vested vulpine.
"Ah... let's go," you say.
Off you both merrily traipse, through the 1920's esque-village full of happy foxes, fat baby sand glossy furred kits.
"So, ah... what do people... er... *we* do at the 'Northern workplace?'" you ask Bragho with not a little anxiety.
"Ah... we get a bad rap sometimes because everyone always breaks a pant, but really it's the best way to get Kitsoons" (currency?) "in the valley," Bragho replies. "When we get there, I'll show you all the nuances of -------------"
Written by Mr.Peaches on 14 November 2006
Name That Toon
"Say what?"
"Cartoon production," Bragho repeats. "You know, making movies."
"Oh." You feel a bit disappointed.
"Hey, it's good work. Pays pretty good too."
"Oh, it's not that. Just seems a waste to..." You realize what a good idea it will be to find out what he knows before you say too much. "What do you know about... The Game?"
"The Game? Been playing for about a year now. That's why I'm assigned welcome wagon duty. This (he points to his chest) is number sixty-eight."
"Sixty-eight! Do you even remember who you used to be?"
"Sure, I dream every night. But what was that about a waste?"
"I mean, getting into a costume and changing like this... just to sit and draw pictures?"
"Oh no, it's it that kind of cartoons. It's more like in that movie, Who Framed Roger Rabbit? You're going to be an actress."
Wishing he could have said actor instead, you ask the most important question to you right then.
"What... kind of actress?"
"That depends on the director's needs and what you'll accept," Bragho replies as you stop in front of a big building. He looks up at a red lamp with a sign saying Do not enter while lamp is lit and finds that it isn't. "Nobody's forcing you into anything. But if you wish, you should have no problems getting some... well paid roles. At least you have the figure for it."
Okay. You did not need to hear that. You are about to say something when Bragho continues: "As a newbie you'll be starting as an extra though. Standing in crowds, crossing the street in the background, boobs five and six..."
"What?!"
"Just kidding. Let's go in and..."
He is interrupted by a loud crash from inside and a shrill voice yelling: "Where has that furshlugginer vixen gone off to now? We have a scene to shoot, for crying out loud!"
Bragho looks at you and grins. "As I said, you'll be an extra - unless you happen to be at just the right time and place to replace someone. Let's go in and see what this is all about, shall we?"
Written by Won-Tolla on 21 June 2007
Quiet On the Set!
You nod to Bragho, and open the door to the hangar-like building the yell came from.
When you heard "actress" and saw a red light, and Bragho teased you about special roles, you felt ice all down your spine. Which was especially weird with your new tail. But these are cartoons he's talking about. And to act in a cartoon the way he described it -- does that make you a living cartoon character? Anything's possible. But your paws don't have the fuzzy glow you'd expect from one, as you step into the set.
And suddenly you're in a Western town where Napoleon is whapping someone with a director's megaphone. Well, not a French dictator, but a fox with way too many buttons on his fancy vest and with plenty of decibels for his size. The poor stagehand he's berating says, "Boss, wait! She's here!"
The director whirls and peers up at you. "Lenara? It's about time you... No, wait. Who are you?"
You start to give your actual name, but play along and use the version Bragho had listed. Before you can explain about the costume, the director says, "Close enough!" He snaps fingers at his assistants, adding, "Script, costume -- attack!"
Five bewildering minutes later, you're wearing some kind of motion-capture suit and another fox is coaching you on how to drawl a line about paintin' a wagon a'fore the cattle get here. Then you get dragged out to the fake street where a bunch of foxes are rehearsing an argument. But they're almost all in Western costumes. No, not 19th-century American stuff, since the fashions are different, but it's rugged and familiar just the same. "Hey," you say, thinking of your own outfit. "Am I in the wrong show?"
"Places!" the director bellows, and everyone scatters. A fox-man in a techno-suit like yours grins at you and takes your hand. He says, "Ma'am, you're over there." He's got this knowing grin like he's been in a hundred movies -- or he knows all about this costume game you've gotten into. And somehow you just know he's playing a cowboy, even without the getup.
So you run through a scene from a story you don't know. The foxes hear you talk about the wagon, and then they argue, and then the other suited fox breaks it up. Then suddenly you hear, "Cut!" and it's all over in one take. You were just getting into the role, wondering whether somebody was going to get shot or what.
"Not bad, ma'am," says the other suited fox to you. The "ma'am"s still distract you, but he makes them sound good.
"I thought this was going to be a cartoon," you say.
"Sure is! Whoever wants to play a lead role can watch it from your view or mine, or put somebody else's picture there while they watch it from the couch."
"Oh. That's not the kind of cartoon I'm used to."
He looks you over, making you conscious of the tight motion-capture suit and the way your tail curls inside it. "You're a costumer?"
You end up looking nervously aside, scratching your ear. "Ah... yeah."
"'s all right, ma'am." He turns to the director and calls out, "Hey, are we set for lunch yet?"
The director's been badgering everyone in sight about lighting and noise, but he stops and droops ears when the other actor talks to him. "Sorry, Wylan. Our caterer is having trouble."
The actor --- Wylan -- gives that same cowboy smile to him. "No loss. Say, Bragho and my new co-star have some things to discuss with me. So we're gonna grab a bite off-set, okay?"
"Yes, of course," the director says. "We'll get on with some establishing shots while you're away."
Wylan waves Bragho over to him and tells him the same. They get you to walk a bit away from the set, and then the two of them fall silent and look at you.
It's your first day among the foxes, and they feel like people to you already. There's a new world for you to explore, and it seems pretty nice so far -- especially if the house you've got is "homeworld average" like the costume-maker said. You could do a lot worse than this world. And it's not like you have to do this acting job forever. You can quit, or in a couple of Earth weeks leave the whole world and go back to trying on costumes.
Something's kind of bothering you though. Where'd this Lenara actress go, and how'd you get to be her stand-in so easily? Why's this place so Earth-like? And why is Wylan so intent on a private conversation?
Wylan waves a paw in front of your eyes. "You there?"
"Yes, sorry!"
He and Bragho walk with you to a restaurant outside the studio. The decor isn't any style you recognize, but there're benches and cushions around a big central firepit. Lots of roast meat spins on spits, and suddenly you realize just how sensitive your nose is to the sizzling roasts and faint charcoal smoke. You're about to start drooling by the time you get a bench and waiters come out with portable tables.
"So," says Wylan, with a strange expression. He glances at Bragho, who's staring at the food and sniffing. "There's something you'd best be telling our new guest."
"Yeah," he says, turning you to explain something about...
Written by Snow on 02 May 2010
Substitute Vixen
The fox-people sit with you to explain. Bragho says, "You've taken Lenara's place. You found a costume of our species, right? Well, the costume-maker set his game up to give you a place in the world you went to. And he did that by zapping one of the people from our world, into the costume-verse."
You boggle. "Does that mean someone's wearing *my* skin?"
"Maybe -- a costume of whatever you used to be. Close enough that they might pass for you at first glance. We're not sure whether the wizard takes people only through this species-shuffle, or what." He lets this news sink in while he attacks a plate full of cornbread and sizzling meat. "When I showed up here with costume number sixty-eight, a year ago, I took the place of a stagehand at the studio. And the stagehand suddenly vanished. Now, Lenara's gone and someone almost like her has shown up."
Your food arrives and you tell yourself things are too serious, that you're not hungry -- but lunch smells and tastes amazing. Maybe it's your new nose helping. "So I'm Lenara?"
Wylan cuts in. "No, ma'am. I don't know who you are, but you're not her. A fine vix she is, wherever she's gone to."
"She'll be fine," Bragho says. "Off on her own adventure, right?"
Wylan just nods, picking at his cornbread. "Thought we should tell you how things stand."
"And how's that?" you say.
Bragho says, "You're a substitute. You're stuck here for a few weeks before you go back to trying on bodies. In the meantime, it looks like you have a house standing where Lenara's was yesterday, and we need someone with her figure on the set. There's a movie to finish."
"Show must go on," mutters Wylan.
"I don't know about all this," you say, looking back and forth between them. And your lunch. "I didn't ask to get into this world, or to kick Lenara out of it. I'm not even female." A waiter happens by while you blurt that out, and ends up giving you a long appraising look. You try to ignore it.
Bragho snorts and hides a grin. But Wylan says, "We didn't ask to have our star actress, our *friend*, suddenly hauled tail-first out of the universe and sent on a lifelong walkabout for some wizard's fun." The cold stare he gives you is one you hope never to see again, especially if he's armed.
Bragho intervenes, waving a greasy black paw between you. "It's not her fault."
Wylan says, "It's not. I just want her to know where things stand, see?"
The actor's ears droop and his tail curls between his legs. So do yours, another feeling you're not used to. You find yourself starting to reach out a hand toward his shoulder, but you pull it back. What're you doing, touching people like that? "I'm sorry," you say.
"There's a movie to finish," Wylan says. "Shouldn't take more than a couple weeks. It'd be good of you to stick around for that, before you run off to be somebody else."
The three of you eat together and get back to the studio to work. Wylan perks up the moment he's back on set. You're not sure, but Bragho and the other stagehands assault you with new lines to learn. From what you gather, the movie's about a gang stealing cattle-like animals from Wylan's ranch and him going out to kick some tail with a crossbow.
Oh, and he's your husband. Not real-life, someone hastens to tell you, so that your heart can start beating again. It's just that viewers love seeing you -- uh, Lenara -- and Wylan together. You've got "chemistry". It doesn't feel that way to you, though. Wylan looks sad and angry beyond what having his cattle stolen would justify. But you get through a few scenes where he's telling you everything will be okay.
You leave the studio at sunset, go to your new house, and lean back against the door once you're inside. On closer inspection the place looks blank. No art on the walls, no family photos or junk lying around on the furniture, nothing in the kitchen, a few never-worn outfits in the closet. There's an envelope of what you assume is money on the kitchen counter. Everything's set up for you to do as you please, replacing Lenara or not.
For a little while you sit blankly on the couch, with endless possibilities in this world and no idea what to do with them. And then there's a knock on the door. "Who is it?" you say.
Written by Snow on 16 May 2010
Night Out
"Bragho," you hear. You open the door and see him in his black vest and shorts. "I was thinking, you might want company."
"How do you mean that?"
He waves a paw. "No, not a date. You don't know this world though."
You've spent almost the whole day with him, stuck in a movie studio and pretending to be someone you're not while everyone else resents you for being there. "Then I'd better start figuring it out for myself!" you say. You're still not used to your higher voice and the weird echoes of it through your muzzle. The local language comes naturally to you, probably the wizard's doing.
"All right," he says. "But be careful, okay?"
You wait in your house till he goes away. A few minutes later you've got your hair fixed up and are out the door.
Seems like you can see pretty well in the dim light. There's a whole town you've barely seen. The narrow streets are paved, the buildings made of wooden boards but with an unfamiliar sort of curved shiplike look. A few foxes stroll along or ride bicycles. Electric streetlights stand in a few spots where there're shops still open. You find something that could be a convenience store and peek in.
Three foxes are playing a board game. One notices you and smiles. "Hi, miss! Haven't seen you here before. Interested in a game of skulk?"
"Sure," you say, looking around at the shelves of merchandise. Games and books and magazines, mostly. "Mind if I look around first?"
"We'll be a few minutes finishing this round anyway."
You paw through some of the reading material. You're totally ignorant of the news, here, so every article is a puzzle. "Gorzam Trade Treaty a Success." "CP Solar Advances." "Carmelita Leads Coopers to 5-3 Win." Nothing totally alien at first glance but for the photos of dignified foxes giving speeches.
"Ready!" say the game-playing foxes, distracting you from another headline. You head back to their table and get into a game they teach you. It's something about hunting and trapping a monster. After a few rounds of that you're looking to do something else, though.
"Say, has anyone got a map?" Maybe you can do some traveling over the next few nights, and see a little more of the world.
Someone fishes out a map and you spread it on a table. A roads stretches out from the valley to a city and from there to a shoreline. It's too small-scale though for you to know whether this is Earth geography with different names, or a totally different place. That's something to ask Bragho. You sigh; there's work tomorrow and there's only so far you can go. You thank the foxes for the game and head on out.
You wander through the streets. It's quiet enough that you wonder why, and realize what's missing -- cars. There're a few bicycles and a motorized scooter or two, but that's it. Maybe they don't have gasoline engines? There's a fortune to be made if you can "invent" them here.
You find a glittering electric storefront and deduce that it's a movie theater. And coffee shop. The scent is wonderful. Inside, it's cozier than the megaplex theaters you're used to, maybe because it's a small town. The ticket booth guy smiles at you, saying, "Hey, Lenara! You look a little different tonight. New hair?"
You're not sure how to answer that. The director mistook you for her at first glance. You're not eager to explain that you're actually a visitor from another world who's accidentally booted Lenara into a convoluted magical trap. So you just dodge the question. "Hi. What's playing tonight?" But at some point you're going to have to explain, right?
"Well," he says, "the toon equipment's got a flea in the software, so we have to wait for an authorized technician. The regular theaters are up though -- 'Legend of the Chalice: Guardians of Glory' isn't as awful as it sounds."
You say, "Toons? Right, you mean the bodysuits. Want me to take a look at the equipment?"
"No way, ma'am. I don't want to get you arrested. You get your usual ticket discount though."
You fish money out of your pockets. "Sure. The fantasy one, please."
Yes, it is that bad. Awful script-writing seems to carry over between worlds. There are these big-eared ape monsters, see, and they go around ripping the pelts off foxes, and then this one fox gets turned into a were-ape and his girlfriend hates him but then he brings peace to the land. It's not clear where the chalice comes in, but there'll be a sequel.
You stretch your cramped tail and leave the theater, feeling vaguely superior. It's pretty dark now, so you'd better get some sleep. What a long, strange day!
It occurs to you that you're lost, when you turn down a dim empty street and hear footsteps behind you.
Written by Snow on 23 May 2010
Casting At the Darkness
"Looking for something?" says a deep voice behind you. There's a metallic click.
You freeze as you glance back and spot a figure in the shadows. It's more of an alley you've blundered into, and the street ahead is quiet and dim. And then, you run and shout.
Something whizzes past your ear and you stumble on a box. He's chasing you. You crash muzzle-first onto dirty pavement and the mugger is right there. With a yelp you flip around, trying to hit him, afraid of what he'll do to you...
Something explodes. There's a roar that lights up the alley and flings you back with your fur on fire. You hit your head and spend the next minute frantically swatting out the flame. Then you're crouched in the alley, clutching your skull while the scent of your own scorched fur hits you. Your attacker is on fire and he's not moving. The smell is terrible. You grab a filthy blanket from the alley and beat the thing against him until he's not burning. Then you run away, hardly able to see through tears in your eyes, until you find what you think is a policeman.
#
A little while later, you're sitting in an underground room. There's a lady fussing over you, draping a blanket over your shoulders. A man brings you a hot drink and says, "Tell us again. What happened, ma'am?"
You can hardly think straight. It was awful -- and you shudder, knowing it could've been a lot worse. You tell the cops everything that happened since you left the theater.
The two of them exchange a look. "It would explain the burns," the man says.
The woman curses. She covers her muzzle and goes back to reassuring you. "Let's keep the fire part between us, okay?"
"Can't hide it," says the man. "Ma'am, I think I know the answer, but I take it you're not already a known magic user?"
You look up at him. "Magic?"
"Didn't think so. People who've got the talent tend not to find it until they're under a lot of stress. So you hear sometimes about a suspicious fire, or someone getting melted out of an avalanche."
"And then the Fens come," the woman adds.
You shake your head. "I don't know anything about magic!" But then it occurs to you that you've had intimate experience with it, back in the costume place. You're not sure whether to add that detail.
The male cop says, "You didn't, yeah. So that puts us in a bind. We're required to report sightings of magical talent so that these people can get trained and employed for the good of society. Supposedly. I take it you've heard of the Fens' mage corps." He sees your blank expression. "No? Let's just say you'd be a second-class member of that, and get to help spread the Teachings by force."
What happened to the happy fun harmless world of fox people?
The cop turns to his partner. "Are you with me on this?" She nods and he looks relieved. To you he says, "There was some grease and a fuel can in that alley, and we're going to say we found that idiot robber with a lighter. It's better than having one of our people drafted. For your part, you need to keep quiet about what you did. It won't go well for you if your talent becomes well-known."
You feel dizzy just sitting there. "Did I kill him?" you say. It's a stupid sappy thing to worry about, but still. And you'd like to stop weeping.
"He'll live. And if he knows what's good for him, he'll go with our story. We'll need you to sign a testimony about" -- he coughs -- "what really happened."
You nod and let the two of them comfort you for a while. You'd been hoping for a good night's sleep...
The woman says, "If you'd like, I can send Officer Ren to patrol past your house for the next few nights."
"Me?" says the guy. "I think she'd be more comfortable with you than with some strange man prowling by."
You say, "It's okay. I just want to lock myself in my house for the night and forget about this." Not that you're likely to sleep.
"Okay. We'll take you home then. Oh, wait, my boss has the keys..."
The female officer tosses a keychain at him. "Just fill it up when you're done."
The police have something like a motorcycle. Officer Ren gets you into the sidecar, then speeds off from the underground police station through the quiet streets. It's the closest thing you've seen yet to a car. From the growl of the engine and the subsonic rumble you can feel at the intersections, you don't blame him for taking the scenic route. You end up back at your house with windblown fur and a grin on your muzzle.
"Good night, ma'am," says the policeman. He tilts his head. "Has anyone told you, you look a lot like Lenara Vale?"
You thank him and head inside alone, but you don't manage to sleep much.
Written by Snow on 30 May 2010
Outsiders
The next morning, the alarm clock startles you awake. There's a bad moment when you flash back to being attacked in the alley and somehow creating a burst of magic fire. Your fur's standing on end... which is your first reminder of where and what you are. Roughly another two weeks of being a fox, and female, left before you can escape. Sort of.
You open the generic curtains to a sunny, peaceful morning. The valley town feels different today. You sense that there's more going on than your tourist visit. Whether that's a good thing, you aren't sure. You don't want to wear your burned clothes to work, and your leg-fur is still noticeably singed, so you end up in the long skirt you had earlier. At least it has pockets.
At the studio, there's still a movie to shoot. You're not on for a few hours, so Bragho and one of the extras (in bandit getup) take you aside for an acting lesson in a vacant studio.
They're walking along with you when the lights suddenly shut off, leaving you in the big empty room in darkness. With your foxy eyes you catch sight of them as Bragho points and shouts, "Look out!"
You turn and see... nothing. The extra laughs. Bragho pats you on the back, saying, "Well, you can do a startle pose right. Hey, out there, get the lights!"
The lights come back on. "That's one lesson," says Bragho. "You've got to feel the role."
You feel your heart pounding, anyway. "Don't do that!" you snap. "You're lucky I didn't..."
"Didn't what?"
"Nothing, nothing." You glance at the extra. "Say, Bragho, who exactly knows about my situation?"
The extra says, "Him, me, most of the studio. Doesn't look like the newspaper picked up on it, which is probably good."
Bragho adds, "When I showed up, nobody much cared about the guy I replaced. I don't know who might be interested in investigating, though, if you made it widely known you're from another world. We can pass you off as Lenara and say you got a makeover. Anyway, we need to work on your emoting for the next few scenes."
You hold up a hand. "There's something I want to know first. Who are the 'Fens'?"
"Why do you care?" says Bragho. The extra shifts, tail flicking nervously.
"I've heard muttering about them."
Bragho says, "They're... in charge. The country got taken over about twenty years back, so we're part of their empire. Let's see. Do you know what a... math machine is? Runs on electricity?"
"You mean a computer?" You cover your muzzle for a moment, realizing the word you said is an unfamiliar rasping thing in the natives' language. You seem to know words you've never heard in this world. "The toon equipment uses them, right?"
"Yeah. You wouldn't believe what a 'toon' is in some of these worlds. Anyway, only the Fens are allowed to own computers, or even fix the things without a permit. Same with paper-copying machines and some other things."
"Why?"
The extra mutters, "To keep control." Bragho nods.
This situation doesn't sound like something you want to get involved in, not after the incident last night and what the police told you about your power. "Maybe we should get back to the acting."
They have you strutting around the empty set and saying ridiculous things, pretending to argue and carouse with Bragho and the extra. It helps take your mind off the trouble and make you feel like you might even have some acting talent. Also you realize you totally messed up that line yesterday.
Bragho's decently satisfied with you -- "for a first lesson" -- by the time you break for a quick lunch. You get back to the main set a little later, feeling relaxed.
The costume squad mobs you and gets you into the electronic bodysuit. The little director finds out you haven't been given the script for this scene yet and starts cursing people out. "I have a gratuitous bar brawl ahead, and my female lead doesn't know what movie she's in!"
While he's doing that, you read a copy, and blink. "'They kiss passionately'?"
"That they do," says Wylan, suited up already. "Don't worry about it, ma'am. It doesn't mean anything. Just a story."
In a way that makes you feel worse. Wylan sees you drooping and says, "You get used to it."
"Acting?"
Wylan hunches his shoulders and looks off into the fake, painted sunset. "I can pretend to be something I'm not. It's why people think I'm some kind of hero, when I'm just a pretender."
You realize something. "You and the real Lenara..."
"No," he says. "She was a swell lady, and I think she'll find a new place somehow. But the one I really cared for got taken from me, and I did nothing." Wylan gestures to the crossbows over in the prop chest. "Do you know how hard it is to pretend I'm brave enough to rush out and avenge someone, when I couldn't do it in real life?"
"Avenge?"
"My wife was in the war. When the Fens took over, they made an example of her." His ears and tail are held carefully still, but you can smell something clammy and frightening in his scent. "But that doesn't concern you. You're a tourist, if an unwilling one. Now show me how you pretend to be in love."
Wylan has straightened up and smoothed his exposed fur already. You glance at the script and see he's just gotten back from clobbering the bad guys and finding some lost treasure, which he left behind for your sake. So... get in character... do you really have to do this? There is the possibility of hiding under your bed for the next week or two.
No! You're going to do this right! Or at least get this movie done with, so you aren't making things in this world any worse for Lenara's absence. You bristle a bit inside your suit, step closer, and blush as he wraps an arm around you. You look up into his sad eyes, try not to bonk muzzles, and imagine him riding out to save you from a horde of muggers. He'd be good at it if he tried, with those muscles... You feel warm breath on your neck as the two of you touch, nose to nose.
Softly, the director says, "And, cut."
Written by Snow on 06 June 2010
Your Biggest Fan
You have time off in the afternoon. There's a library in town, you hear, so you walk in search of that. You're glad for the broad daylight as you pass the town's alleyways.
The library is styled like some kind of ancient fortress, even though it's only two stories tall. When you step in there's a lot of greenery, lit by sunbeams from the ceiling. They're growing vegetables in here.
A librarian named Jahnbuck greets you and shows you the history section. You're quickly confused, even after you remember that the pages go right-to-left. So why are you here again? Well, you'd heard about this country having been conquered, and there's the too-personal subject of how magic works in this place.
You bask in a pool of light, browsing a stack of dusty books that makes your nose twitch. It looks like these Fen people are from an empire of deserts and jungles, and have some religious "Teachings" too weird to explain. Apparently they're very convincing at swordpoint though. The empire isn't obviously killing people these days, at least not locally, but it's not particularly nice either.
A pair of ears twitches over the book in your hands. "Senorita?" says their owner.
You look up and find a long-eared, sand-colored fox. He's the first you've seen in town, actually; everyone local seems to be the red or grey-and-red kind. His clothes are odd too, with many buttons and pockets on his vest. He says, "The illustrious Lenara Vale, I presume?"
You freeze. First of all, if your sense of the local language is right, he's one of the "Fens" people here resent. Second, are you Lenara for purposes of talking with a strange outsider? "Um, hi?" you squeak.
"Bueno, senorita!" he says. (No, he's not really speaking Spanish. That's just the easiest thing to compare it to.) "I am Eloy Alejandro, visiting town as an admirer of your studio. A 'fan', yes?"
"You came here for a movie tour?" you say.
"Unofficially. But I am here as a repairman. I mend things that are broken. Computers, mainly. A surprise very pleasant to meet you here. It speaks well of your intellect."
You smile a bit. "Just studying history before getting back to work."
"I'm not interrupting you, I hope?" His ears droop in obvious pleading for attention.
Oh, what are you doing letting a man flatter you like this? A possibly-evil foreigner too? For the moment you say, "I have a few minutes."
"Well. I want to say, I've noticed the theme of your work, and think it brave of your studio. Do you know Zellon Fabrosi? His 'Chalice' movie is brilliant in its own way. But the interactivity of your cartoon productions is something else again. You get to feel the anger, the resistance in the way Wylan moves. Or yourself."
Lenara's been in other movies with Wylan, and they're these "cartoon" productions where someone can hop into first-person mode using the motion-capture machines. That means this Eloy guy has probably watched the things, and romanced you from Wylan's perspective. Or him from yours. Either way it's kind of disturbing. And he actually liked that Chalice thing? No taste!
Wait a minute. Evil big-eared things were the villains, and the paranoia plot was about someone getting forcibly turned into one? That's... more political than you'd imagined junky fantasy to be. "Thanks, I think. I'm not trying to interfere with the Fens, though."
"Of course not," he says with a wink and a tailwag. "But it's nice to see some among your people having an influence cultural on the empire. Many young Fens watch films, and over time, who knows where that leads?"
Time. "Oh! I need to get back to the studio," you say. It's strange to think about your having an influence on the world situation here, just by performing.
Eloy bows to you. "Glad to meet you, in any case. I hope to take a studio tour later, if they'll allow it...?"
"I'll try to get you a pass." His eyes light up at the offer. Fanboy fox!
As you get up, the foreigner moves to fetch the books you've pulled out. "I will return these for you, senorita." He glances at the titles. "Oh, planning a magical tale next?" One of the books is a guide to magic.
"Maybe," you say with a nervous smile that you hope gives away nothing.
"Excellente! I shall look forward to it. Good day!"
You get out of the library, feeling flustered several ways at once by the foreign man with his odd compliments and questions. You hurry back to the studio. For the moment your next actions are obvious -- get back to work for the rest of the day's scenes -- but then what? And how are you feeling about this whole situation?
Written by Snow on 13 June 2010
What's My Motivation?
The rest of the work day is easy for you. The director bellows at you to stand right here and say your lines with "more zest" or "more pathos". Come on, you're talking about cattle! You catch some of the stagehands smirking about it, and share in making fun of him when he's not looking.
You're comfortable here in a way. You've got a job, a house, and friends. People admire "your" work and think you're having a good effect on the country. On the other hand... or paw, you think...
In an idle moment you stare at the black-furred, clawed hands this world gave you, and can't help glancing at your chest. The body's not what you're used to, and it means a different life than you ever expected. Is that so bad? Maybe your attitudes have shifted a bit. Depending on your feelings before you got zapped into the costume place, you might be disturbed to notice that guys like Wylan are actually... attractive, and that it's because of a random costume you put on. Who has the right to mess with your head like this? Then again, would it be any better if you'd hated every second as a half-animal woman and ended up killing yourself? Or if you'd gotten stuck with some kind of fish-monster costume, or replaced the Pretty Pink Princess of Pig World? In this form, you've got a choice about what to be and how to act. And there's always the chance of going back for a different costume, a different body and world.
But you can probably never go home again. You want to meet this wizard behind the game, and find out why he did it.
The filming for this movie is almost over. Turns out you're actually pretty good at this acting stuff. You definitely could use more lessons though.
That's your excuse for taking a walk with Bragho in the studio grounds that evening. Besides the two main studio halls, there're some shacks, a cafeteria, and so on. Some of the studio's land is left in natural forest, which makes the whole scent of the studio more peaceful. You're still not used to your sense of smell. It's not as powerful as you might have expected, but then you've kept your color vision. If the fox-folk were colorblind by human standards, would their screens use only red and blue?
"What're you thinking about?" asks Bragho.
You say, "This costume thing. How long have you been in this world, anyway?"
"A few years. I got tired of the game, and this place is all right."
You look around at the sunset over the valley. "Could've been worse. What were you to start with?"
He scratches his ear with a timid expression. "Let's just say I had cute little facial tentacles. Had my own spaceship back then, too... But those days're over." Together you walk into a prop warehouse, where in the dim light you spot dozens of ordinary movie costumes. "Since then I've been plenty of things. One time, I was a monster guarding this tower that got invaded by adventurers during a rainstorm. Then I was some kind of leather-winged guard working for a pink-skinned race with no claws or anything."
"Humans?" you say. "That's what I am! Was."
"Yeah, that was the species name. Same world then? Elemental magic, black hole looming in the sky?"
"No." Your ears droop. "So even if I find a human costume, I still might not get home."
"Not sure that's how it works. The costume was for the winged race, remember. Maybe the world counted as their homeworld. There's always a chance you can get back to your original world by finding the right outfit."
"So why haven't you --"
"I said because I'm sick of it!" snaps Bragho. He grabs a sequined cape from a rack. "Listen. You'll never see your world again. Not realistically. Either be Lenara, or run off and live under that other name, or resign yourself to dozens, maybe hundreds, of other worlds. Some of which are terrifying." He looks about to tear the cape in half as he holds it over his face. "You can't see what's on the other side. It's practically random. Is it worth giving up what you have here to get whatever might be behind the next door? Would you pick up a script and commit yourself to that role without reading it?"
"But you do get to read it when you jump in, and go back to the costume place if you hate it."
"Small consolation," says Bragho, and he puts the cape back. "From what you've told me, this is a good gig for you. Famous, gorgeous, and -- ah, never mind."
You blush, thinking again about the "deal" you've gotten here. For Bragho, maybe this species is monstrous.
He says, "Anyway, if you do go world-hopping, there are bonuses. I have a shapeshifting ability now, since this is my sixty-eighth outfit. But I'm done currying favor with the master wizard to get magic powers. If I ran that costume-world, it'd be different!"
You nod. "This is a lot to think about. Thanks, Bragho. I'm glad to have somebody that knows what I'm going through."
"Yeah," he says, looking off to one side. "If you need help with fox stuff, or girl stuff, or the local culture, ask. I've been through it."
"What about this empire -- the Fens?"
He shrugs. "Doesn't affect us much. Now the world with the black hole, that had some evil empires. This one's just mildly oppressive."
You tell him about Eloy. Bragho says, "Sounds like a fop. Fens usually are. Just don't tell him about the costumes, or you might get drafted as a supposed magic-user."
You laugh nervously. "All right."
"How's your house, by the way? Looked pretty bare from what I saw."
"I've hardly noticed, but yeah. Didn't come with Lenara's things."
"That's typical. Want to do some shopping? Holy day's tomorrow if you don't know; can't act then. We could go into the city." He pauses from his nonchalant inspection of more costume racks. "Although, it's kind of pointless to buy anything if you're leaving by month's end."
You frown; he's right. "I do have free starting money though."
"Yeah. You could treat it as just a game if you want. And you've got wages coming."
It could be fun to see more of the world -- that city you saw on the map earlier. Tonight you should probably stay off the streets, after what happened the other night. What do you want to do on your day off tomorrow?
Written by Snow on 20 June 2010
