"Are you sure you'll be fine?" Jiffies asked for the umpteenth time.
Hakar sighed softly "Yes hun, I will. You'll only be gone for a day, and I'll be
sitting here reading or something. I'm not a little cub you know."
Jiffies started to say she sometimes doubted that, but Hakar's kiss on hir
muzzle stopped her. He was partially right though, shi was going to spend the
night with a friend of hirs, leaving hir mate alone in the house. While he was
indeed an adult, he sometimes managed to get himself in all sorts of problems.
The fox stepped back, letting his eyes look over his mate's beautiful body. Shi
was in her wolf form right now, just like most of the time these days, and
dressed in a short skirt and top.
"Cmon hun, don't worry about me." he said, knowing very well shi'd be worried
anyway. "You go and have fun."
Jiffies stepped forward and embraced Hakar, pressing hir ample breasts against
his chest. Shi kissed him passionately, and he returned the kiss immediately,
and they stood there for a few seconds before shi stepped back. Shi nodded and
turned around, walking down the path away from hir home.
Before entering the forest shi looked back, blowing a kiss at hir mate who
smiled and waved at hir. Shi was still a little uncertain, but what could go
wrong?
Closing the door behind him, Hakar returned to his desk. Sure, he'd miss his
mate, but they were apart often enough that it didn't really bother him. And
they had been apart for longer than a day a lot more often.
He sat down at the chair and grabbed the book he had been reading before Jiffies
had left, and after a few moments thought, he put his feet on the desk.
After he had finished the book, a glance at the clock revealed only about 60
minutes had passed. So he put the book on the desk, thinking to put it in its
proper location on the shelf later on and removed his feet from the desk.
At that point, the chair he was sitting on collapsed, and folded up around his
butt.
Off course, this meant that the entire chair fell over, carrying the yelping fox
with it. With a loud "Ack!" Hakar thumped onto the ground, unable to use his
legs, with his nose buried in the carpet. Blinking a few times, he turned to
look at the furniture sticking to his bottom, and since he wasn't feeling any
pain he tried to yank it off.
"Yiaaaarg!"
Instead of coming off, the chair seemed to hold on to Hakar, pulling fur, skin
and nerves with it. Quickly he let go, whimpering a little and pondering his
options.
He could use senseless violence, but that rarely helped and might prove less
positive for his reproduction parts. Pleading and begging was out of the
question, not in the first place because the chair wasn't sentient.
Waiting for the chair to fall off on its own, while the least strenuous, would
take too long, so Hakar started prodding and pulling random bits, in the faint
hope the chair would unfold itself.
A wheel here, a lever there, nothing he pulled or turned helped. One wheel had
tightened the grip of the chair, but turning it the other way didn't release the
chair. It was obvious he would need the manual for this thing, but where was it?
Off course it wasn't right next to him, but he remembered it to be somewhere in
the bookcase... at the top... in a drawer... filled with other pieces of paper.
Muttering, he braced himself against the desk and managed to get into a
semi-upright position. What was the world coming to when even chairs needed
manuals? What was next, manuals for cookies?
He looked up at the bookshelf, then at the other one against the south wall. It
was immediately obvious that no matter where he looked first, the manual would
be in the other location.
But lying on the floor all day wouldn't solve things either, so Hakar started to
climb as good as he could, aided slightly by flapping his wings. Several books
were knocked down to make a path, and he was making slow progress. Eventually,
and against all expectations (well, his' at least), he made it to the top.
The box with manuals slid easily from its location on the shelf, and as Hakar
eagerly grabbed the one he needed he completely forgot the box itself, which
took its first dive. Off course, Hakar was in the way and got hit square in the
head by the box, causing him to loose his grip and fall down.
He landed heavily with the box on top of him, all the loose papers and manuals
pouring free from their prison, burying the poor fox.
Upon regaining consciousness, Hakar felt he was still grasping the manual to the
chair, and brought it down (up?) to his face, succeeding in smacking himself in
the process.
This didn't do his mood any good, nor did the fact that the manual was actually
for a toaster, and not the chair hugging his ass.
A snarl emerged from his muzzle, and he turned to gnaw the wretched thing off,
only to find the fall had caused it to spring loose.
After discarding the folding chair on the ground, Hakar stretched, rubbing his
paws over his freed butt. All this exercise had made him hungry, so he walked
to the kitchen to make some food.
A quick browse of the fridge revealed some left-overs from the previous day, a
bowl with potatoes and vegetables. A simple meal just like Hakar liked it,
especially if he had to make it himself.
Tail wagging and stomach rumbling softly, he grabbed the lighter for the cooker.
After turning on the gas, he remembered he hadn't gotten the butter yet. So he
went to the fridge, sliced off a piece of butter and put it in a pan, placed the
pan next to the cooker, and used the lighter.
With a loud bang the gas that had poured out during his trip to the fridge
exploded, singing Hakar's face.
"Aaaaaaaaaagh!" he yelled, running to the sink and sticking his head underneath
the tap. Instead of the refreshing he expected, the water pouring from the tap
was boiling hot.
"Ayieeeeeeeee!" he yelled again, stumbling back and tripping over the small
steps Jiffies uses in the kitchen when in a smaller form, falling over and
crashing into a table. Upon opening his eyes he saw several sharp knives,
ranging from a potato-knife to a cleaver, falling towards his face.
Fortunately for him, they impacted before he could move or cover his face, and
he only suffered minor cuts as the ironware impaled itself into the table around
his face.
Hakar took several quick breaths, convincing himself no more knives were falling
towards his soft belly. A quick glance left and right, slightly hindered by the
knives, told him that he was not hit. Carefully getting up, his paws landed in
something warm and wet.
Fearing the worst, he slowly looked down, relieved when it turned out to be
water.
"Its only water." he though, "..."
"Only water?! What the hell is it doing on the floor?"
In his excitement to escape the hot water scorching his face, he had neglected
to turn off the tap, so it was now happily filling the kitchen. Off course, the
kitchen opened up into the living room, and there was a large recessed area
where the water could theoretically pour into, but Hakar realized he needed to
turn the water off before that happened.
The only, but off course very limiting, problem was that the tap was already
covered in hot water, as was a great portion of the floor.
Spreading his wings while sitting on the table-edge, he lifted himself up and
floated towards the counter, carefully sitting down on it, underneath the
cupboards. Straining, he leaned to the left and grabbed one of the washing
cloths hanging from the wall, and used it to protect his paw while he turned off
the water.
There he was, sitting on the counter in the kitchen, half of the floor covered
in water, a table perforated with knives, the cooker still on, and he was
hungry.
His prospected dinner was still sitting next to him, in the pan and cold. He
crawled over, cursing his wings that kept getting in the way, and put the pan on
the cooker.
After that, he used his wings to stabilize him while he curled up and took a
plate from the cupboard overhead, and after sitting back started stirring his
meal.
A couple of minutes later, his hard-earned food was warm and ready to be eaten,
so he turned off the cooker and dug in.
With a contented sigh, he placed the plate down next to him on the counter, and
licked his lips.
"Well, at least I got dinner."
The water had already cooled down, so he hopped down, took a mop form a closet
and started cleaning up. The knives were placed back where they belonged, and
the table pushed back against the wall.
After all this hard work, he figured, he deserved a nice warm shower.
Ascending the ladder, Hakar poked his head trough the floor of Jiffies´ end of
the bedroom. It was, like always, rather messy, Jiffies rarely bothering to
clean it up.
His end of the room was on one side, with their bed in the middle, and a set of
stained glass doors marked the entrance to their bathroom.
Careful not to slip on anything that might be lying on the floor, he made his
way to the doors and entered the bathroom.
The bathroom was rather large as well, with two sets of sinks, two urinals, a
toilet, large bath, shower and fur-dryer littered across the room. Since a bath
would take too much time, Hakar walked to the shower, discarding his pants in
the meantime.
Again he softly cursed his wings, their large bulk preventing him from closing
the shower-doors. Off course, there wasn't anyone else in the house right now,
and if Jiffies would see him naked... well shi wouldn't see anything new right?
Unlike some furs, he and Jiffies didn't have a digital pad to regulate the
water-flow and temperature, especially Hakar finding the process of turning a
large knob far more satisfying.
He turned the heat-knob as far as the safety-button would allow, then back a
little notch. This would provide the water at a comfortable 37 degrees.
Unfortunately for the fox, he forgot the first few seconds of water would be
ice-cold, since that had already been in the pipes. So when he turned the
water-knob to full, he was greeted with cold water spraying all over his fur.
"Yiiiiiiiiip!", his fur on end, Hakar jumped out of the shower and landed on his
stomach on the floor. He remained there for a few seconds, eyes wide, his body
recovering from the shock.
When warm drops of water began landing on his ass, he snapped out of the shock,
and after shaking himself dry he finally stepped in a warm shower.
"Hmmmmm, much better.", rubbing the warm water all trough his fur, Hakar soon
felt refreshed and comfortable. Off course, he had to keep his wings dry, but
since they didn't fit in the shower anyway that wasn't such a problem.
Slowly, his mind began to wander to a sexy skunkette. He imagines rubbing her
warm, soft fur, slowly laying her down on the bed. His tail started wagging in
delight, and a quick glance down showed his body was enjoying the fantasy as
well.
So he decided to take the fantasy to the next level, lay down on the skunkette,
gently making love to her. Unfortunately he didn't not have a skunkette handy
outside the fantasy, so his paw took her place.
His tongue tip poked out as the lovemaking got more intense, and his back arched
a little, the water spraying over his face forgotten.
*Ding-Dong!*
Hakar watched in agony as his fantasy was cruelly ripped apart by the doorbell.
He stood there for several seconds, the shower continuing to rain on his fur.
*Ding-Dong!*
"Yes yes, I´m coming!" Hakar yelled downstairs and walked trough the doors and
started decending the stairs. "Though not in the way I had in mind." he added in
his thoughts.
Opening the front-door revealed a lioness Hakar had never seen before. She had a
glittering coat of yellow-orange fur, which turned pinky creme over her belly
and throat. A dark blue top barely contained her luxurious cleavage, the fabric
clearly struggling to protect it from gravity. In one paw she had a small
coffee-cup, dangling on a finger by the ear. Her tail tip flicked left and right
as she smiled at Hakar and asked...
"Hello sir, I´m new in this neighborhood, and I was wondering if I could borrow
a cup of..."
Her voice faded away as her gaze lowered from his face towards a rather
prominent feature of his body.
"Pervert!" she yelled, and Hakar received the cup in his face, the hard
porcelain shattering against his nose bridge.
Yelping in pain, he grabbed at his face, opening his eyes just in time to see
the angry lionesses back, quickly walking away from him and disappearing down
the trail.
It didn't take him long to figure out her reason for this outburst, and as he
looked down at whatever she saw before smashing his face in, it became apparent
the skunkette was still swooning at the back of his mind. Yet as the icy truth
became clear to him, that which had angered the lioness quickly shriveled into
nothing, leaving Hakar dripping on the porch of his house, naked and rather
cold, his fantasy shattered, his muzzle bruised and the sexy new neighbor likely
to maul him if she ever saw him again.
With a soft sigh, he returned to the shower, quickly warming up a little before
turning it off and stepping into the fur-dryer.
He didn't bother putting his shorts back on, instead sitting down on the bed,
idly rubbing his muzzle and pondering what to do next.
His gaze fell on his Warhammer table, and he recalled miniature he had been
painting the last few days only needed a few more licks of paint. If he worked
hard, he could finish it that day.
So he sat down on the crutch, wrapping his legs around it and picking up the
miniature to see what paint it still needed. Selecting his favorite brush and a
shade of red, he started painting small details on it, eyes squinted in
concentration.
Several painstaking minutes later, he was at least satisfied, and after placing
the miniature down he selected another color to use next. But the pot appeared
to be stuck, and no amount of force seemed enough to open it. Placing the brush
sideways in his muzzle, Hakar pulled and twisted as hard as he could, but every
time his paws would slide off.
After a hard stare, he slammed the head of the pot against the table in anger.
Nothing.
With a hard bang he placed the pot down on the table, only to notice that in his
struggle he had managed to bite his brush in three pieces. Two of those lay on
the ground, and the third was lodged between his teeth. Whining softly, he
removed the deceased brush from his muzzle, softly caressing its length. This
brush had served him well over the weeks, and even helped him win a painting
competition.
Desperately he picked up the other two parts and tried to put them back
together. To no avail, no matter what he tried the brush remained just as broken
as before. So with a soft sigh he dumped the bits in a nearby trash can and
opened a drawer, picking an identically looking brush from a few dozen
identically looking brushes.
After placing it to one side, he once again took the deviant paint-pot and held
it at eye-level.
"This time its personal."
Once again he started twisting the cap, and he could feel it slowly turning,
until with a loud snap the dried paint broke off and the cap swung loose.
In horror, he watched the large glob of paint flow out of the pot, in a direct
course towards his lovingly painted miniature. His paw flashed out to safe it,
but he was too late, the large mass of paint splotching its surface. To make
things worse, the paw he had tried to safe the miniature with instead knocked it
backwards, where it smashed against the wall into several pieces.
The pieces fell down behind the table, smashing into even smaller pieces with a
sickening crunch when they impacted onto the ground.
Hakar quickly ducked underneath his table to see if he could safe anything, only
to see several paint-pots that had been knocked over fall behind the table as
well, landing directly on the shattered remains, shattering them more and
driving some of the smaller components into the carpet.
He did not move for almost a minute, his eyes fixed on what only minutes before
had been a masterpiece, the result of hours of careful filing, gluing, modeling
and painting.
Finally he averted his eyed and got up, only to be cruelly reminded he was
sitting underneath a table.
Opening his eyes, he noticed his muzzle was buried in the carpet, several hairs
sticking into his nose. Resisting the urge to get up quickly, he instead
wriggled his was backward, merely knocking the crutch down.
He put his muzzle on the edge of the table, surveying the carnage he had caused,
whining softly. Most of the paint pots had been knocked over, as was the beaker
with water. Fortunately, all but one of the pots had been closed, and there
wasn't any miniature on the table. Off course, he couldn't paint on a wet paper,
and there weren't any in the house right now, so that ended his painting day.
All that was left was putting the pots back in place, and after throwing the
paper in the trash Hakar slumped down on a couch downstairs, ears flat against
his head in annoyance.
After a few minutes sitting there, he decided to see what was on the news. His
paw reached out for the remote, but instead of the re-assuring piece of black
plastic it ended up on something sticky.
Sighing, he looked at what his paw was grasping, which appeared to be an old
slice of pizza. Without a moments pause, he threw it over his shoulder where it
splutted against the wall, slowly dripping downwards while Hakar rubbed his paw
against the couch to get the pizza-residue off.
A bit of fumbling finally rewarded him with the remote, which had been stuck
underneath the pillow and glued to the couch with some chewing gum.
"Boring. Boring. Old. Boring. Very boring. Dutch. Boring. Annoying. Old badger
lady telling me about her knives. Boring..."
None of the channels seemed to show anything interesting, but with such marvels
like "The Wallpaper Channel" who could think otherwise?
One channel had shown a porn movie where two wolves were getting quite excited,
but before anything really interesting was shown, a commercial break appeared
with the happy note "Coitus Interruptus". The Yiff channel wasn't known for its
canny one-liners.
The next channel was Cartoon Network, and to Hakar´s horror they had decided to
dub I Am Weasel in Dutch. "Great, first Dexter´s Laboratory, then The Powerpuff
Girls, and now I Am Weasel?"
Pressing the `Next Channel´ button in disgust, he was once again treated with a
badger-lady telling him that her particular set of kitchen knives was the best.
"No thanks lady, I´ve seen enough knives for one day."
MTV had nothing, TMF had nothing, The Box had nothing. It was becoming clear
there was nothing on TV. As a final act, he switched back to the yiff channel,
only to see the old badger for the third time.
"Doesn't she ever get tired of herself?" he thought.
A glance at the rack of videotapes showed only movies he´d already seen, or in
the case of the porn movies, he already knew what was going to happen.
Nonetheless, he picked one of the tapes with the ZigZag logo on it, and moved to
shove the tape into the VCR.
It was then that a little light-bulb appeared above his head, and thinking back
at what had already gone wrong, he decided not to risk losing this tape.
And as fate would have it, nothing bad happened when he put the tape back in its
case, and the case back in the rack. Even after Hakar looked at it for a minute,
the tape remained in its place.
According to the clock, it had only been three hours since Jiffies had left, and
it would be hours before he could go to sleep. There had to be something he
could do without it going wrong? Off course, he decided to go online.
The pc was whirring happily while Hakar glared ominously at the Windows logo,
the pc taking way too long to boot to his liking. Finally the desktop appeared
and Windows could begin the task of starting every nifty little program Jiffies
had installed on it. He preferred his own pc upstairs, but couldn't be bothered
to go there and look at the mess on his desk. This desk was fairly clean, and
besides the bare essentials only had several magazines which he had piled up on
the edge.
Somehow, Hakar had managed to convince both his download manager and his
file-sharing program that using one directory on this computer, even if he ran
the programs upstairs, was a good idea. Because of that, all downloaded files
ended up in a directory on this computer, and both computers could resume from
where the other might have stopped.
He clicked the connect button, and Windows went online rather quickly, both the
download manager and the file-share beginning their work. After starting
Internet Explorer, he started browsing the web a little, not in the mood to go
to IRC. Then he noticed the download manager was reporting a transfer rate of
0.00K per second.
Opening its window revealed both servers he was downloading from were down. A
small nag in his brain made him open the file sharing window, revealing 4 people
online. And it seemed these people were merely interested in Britney Spears, and
not in the things Hakar was interested on. This would explain why none of the
downloads in his list were running.
With a growl of disgust, he closed both windows, then closed them again when
they told him they couldn't find anything by re-appearing.
Internet itself didn't yield anything interesting either, his regular Warhammer
forum filled only with stupid questions and remarks, the comics he read not
updated since last time he checked them, no new art anywhere and nothing
interesting elsewhere. He idly wondered why everyone was always going on about
how Internet was such a great source of information, and anything you wanted to
know was on there. In his experience anything you searched for either yielded
almost no results or over a thousand, and at least half of these didn't work or
redirected you somewhere else.
Perhaps he could play a game?
Unfortunately Hakar had an extremely short attention span when it came to
computer games, and most didn't manage to hold his attention for more than a few
days. So despite the fact that he was downloading them all the time, he rarely
ever played one.
But Dungeon Keeper might provide him with some amusement. With more than a
little dread at what could go wrong, he started the game, and was rather amazed
when nothing bad happened.
He started a random level, and 10 minutes later his opponent had found him and
was destroying his rooms while his minions were butchered by a high-level hero
on the other side of his dungeon.
Another game was started, and this time he spent an hour training his minions to
the highest level, only to find out his opponent was a weak little imp whom he
defeated in less than a minute.
Pinching his muzzle and ignoring the pain from the teacup´s wound, he tried to
calm down, and closed the game.
With a little yawn he slowly browsed his hard-disk, neither the comics, art or
porn exciting him much. He had seen it all before, and it was becoming old.
Finally he shoved the seat back and walked away, leaving the pc to repeat its
attempts at downloading for all eternity.
He spent several minutes staring at the coat-rack, and wondering why they had
one. No-one wore coats anyway. The mat at the door that read "Welcum" didn't
provide him with much amusement either.
This was insane, normally he was able to spend entire days without getting
bored. And now, just because some things went wrong he was at a loss what to do.
Stepping into the garden once again, the sun was already beginning to set, the
cold winter air chilling his flesh despite his fur coat. All around him a forest
spread over the land, one of the many wonders of Tapestries.
Except for the evergreens, the trees had lost their leaves, creating a brown
carpet on the ground.
Spreading his wings, he launched himself into the air, his house falling down
beneath him. Still he could see nothing on the horizon besides the forest, so he
teleported to Fox Plaza.
True enough, apart from a sleeping dragon there was no-one present. So he took
several minutes to fetch some more V-Tails, his total now at 2400. He wondered
how he was ever going to spend them, since all auctions were at a time he was
asleep. Still, with 2400 he should be able to buy a nice skunkette.
The dragon was still sleeping when he returned, and didn't seem to be planning
to wake up any time soon.
Here too the air was cold, yet he flew off in the air, casting his gaze over the
town. This was actually one of the biggest mysteries of Tapestries, at least to
him.
There was a huge town here, and on average 300 furs online, yet when walking
trough the city you´d think the average was 3. Normally everyone was holed up in
the tavern, somewhere Hakar wasn't planning on going. I was far too crowded for
his liking.
On his flight over town he encountered several other flying furs, all asleep off
course. Perhaps if he were nocturnal he´d meet more people.
With a soft sigh he returned home, where the clock told him it had just become
evening. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep for several more hours, so he
slumped in front of the TV again and started looking at random channels.
"I do hope Jiffies is having more fun than I am." he thought.
After radiating his brain a little with the television, he grabbed a random book
and read 10 pages before that too bored him.
There had to be something he could do.
Hakar draped himself over a couch in the middle of the room, warming himself at
the large fireplace in the center. The reflective tiles on the floor and walls
of the recessed area helped spread the warm glow. This was truly one of the most
relaxing parts of the house.
Leaning back, he finally had a chance to relax. A lot of things might have gone
wrong today, but if he just lay here he would be fine. In the background, the
clock was softly ticking the time away, every tick slicing another second off
eternity.
He didn't know how long he lay there, but after a while the fire started to seem
especially hot, and it seemed something was burning. A rather pungent smell was
reaching his nostrils. Lazily he lowered his gaze, to see the tip of his tail
had landed in the fireplace and was aflame. Glad to see nothing was wrong, Hakar
leaned back once again, enjoying the hot flames.
Several seconds later, some of his brain cells notified him of the fact that
having your tail on fire was not a good thing.
"Ayieeeeeee! My tail is on fire! My tail is on fire!"
Flailing his arms madly, Hakar ran in circles around the fireplace, trying to
somehow escape the fire on his tail. In the end he tripped on something, landing
squarely face-down on the ground. He quickly reached back and smothered the
flame, whimpering softly as he watched the charred remains of his once white
tail tip.
After checking to see if the tap was set to cold, he held his tail underneath it
and flooded it with cool water. "Oh crap, cant anything go right today? If only
I could at least watch something interesting on TV."
(
geocities.com/hakar2002)