Shonen fans are anime tourists, yuri fans are lesbians, and cosplayers use their hobby as an excuse for public nudity. Or so they say. Loona fans (Helluva Boss), we’ll deal with you next.
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An Ass Out of “U” and Me
We make certain assumptions about people. It’s hard not to. I figure it’s an inbuilt survival mechanism. A feature, not a flaw. We put people in the “safe” or “unsafe” box subconsciously, leaving our thinking muscle free to deal with dangerous freaks if needed. After all, what if all those statements about furries are true? Or the ones about goth girls. If you’ve got a Loona folder on your PC, you know what I mean.
Blitzo by Peachy Adele (no social account found).
Hot, Sweaty, and Undercover
But furries are normal people too, right? Right? (Yes, that meme).
I met my first furries at a LARP (live action roleplay). LARPers are, simply, cosplayers who love bonking. Ahem. Bonking people on the head with foam swords, I should say. As a community, they’ve got a lot of time for outlandish, weirder tastes. I met a practicing witch, an off-the-clock dominatrix, and a blogger specializing in adult Japanese pop culture. And all this while standing in line for Butter Beer.
Competition at the LARP was fierce, especially between the different clans. But the most savage clan was the Wendigo. They were a tribe of cheetah nomads, bear rangers, and wolf women. There were no wolf dudes. I’m convinced nobody had the balls for it. And every wolf woman considered herself the alpha matriarch of the clan. Their entitlement created an unspoken tussle for clan leadership, which in turn resulted in a relentless bloodlust that left the other clans fearing for their lives. Sure, it’s just a game, but it was getting harder to see the line between reality and play as the piles of life chits grew under each wolf mama’s totem.
Loose the Wolves of War
Many of the clans nurtured long-established rivalries. It was part of the fun. The Grayhold dwarves “hated” the Fey Forest elves. We called their enmity the Trope Wars. The loyalists warred with anyone who wouldn’t bow to their king, King Archibald. Archi was a braces-wearing, snot-nosed kid who wasn’t allowed to swing a foam weapon. Because mommy said so. And the free peoples fought with any and every faction until they inevitably got bored and had one of their fake orgies. Don’t ask me how LARP orgies work.
But every rivalry dissolved under the threat of the Wendigo pack.
I was a lone mercenary, one of a small band of sell-swords (two) that hadn’t bothered to read the bit in the 100-page lore document about the importance of clan fealty. Our survival, more than our in-game income, depended on finding the craziest bitch (her words, not mine) and offering our deeply discounted services. Two dwarven chumps, both around six feet tall, legging it after the pack.
Look, I’m not proud of the life chits we took that weekend, but it was them or us. Moon Claw, a black-furred, leather-armored she-wolf, was a harsh employer. But she was cunning enough to win every battle by charging her forces into fights when our enemy’s HP was low, their potions dry, and their magic spent. Dirty, but effective.
Her Loona isn’t only spot on; it left us panting for a Black Cat (Marvel) cosplay. It’s the hair. And the “you’re lucky to be alive” dangerous curves.
The Proof and the Prof.
Of course, all good things must come to an end. And, by inference, so too must bloody weekends hounded by the jaws of fur-suited lunatics with foam battle-axes.
The bus ride home was quiet, with a general air of exhaustion. The geeky enthusiasm of the Friday and full Saturday had dissipated, and the zombified passengers managed only a few stilted conversations between dozing. I did, however, catch one conversation between the two petite women seated in the row in front of me. Both wore thick glasses under their black fringes, which showed mousy brown roots.
“Moon, is it true you’re a professor of Library and Information Science?”
The second looked down at her small hands (much smaller than they’d appeared in costume). “Yeah, I love libraries. So peaceful.”
It’s always the quiet ones.
That’s not a dig at Canadians. All I’m saying is that Canadian goths get more sunlight than the rest of the world’s goths.
Do you like a nekomimi maid waifu as much as the next dude? What about full-blown fur-suit furries? Are you anthropomorphic-curious, or do you keep a tight leash on your wild urges? Don’t tell us in the comments; none of us are furries. Promise.
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A new season is here, and J-List has a new Autumn Sale for you! Through September 21st, enjoy 15% off of all in-stock products shipping from Japan! You can pick up all the high-quality ecchi toys, manga and doujinshi, and hentai anime you could want! Browse all sale products here!
