Scenes from the Movie of My Life -- Hotel Lobby

Story by Tristan Black Wolf on SoFurry

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As I have mentioned elsewhere, I will sometimes post things that are mere scenes, not quite whole stories. Things that are more autobiographical than not will appear under the heading of "Scenes from the Movie of My Life." What follows is a piece of my heart; it may not be to everyone's taste.

Rated "Adult" for language.


Hotel Lobby

The hotel lobby is huge, reflecting the relative size of the hotel and convention center itself. It would have to be huge to hold this many people... and other-than-people. I sit in a chair, out of the main flow of traffic, far enough away to be less than visible. I've no wish to solicit attention; I wish to see. I have wanted to see for many years, and this is my first opportunity to see. I can hardly believe it.

At other cons that I've been to - some sci-fi cons, a lot of anime cons - I've seen people walking around with tails attached to belt loops, or sometimes in specially designed pants, where it looks as if the tail is actually coming from inside the pants. Nice costuming. And of course, no anime con would be complete without a few cat girls, some being cute, some positively alluring. But this is the first time that I've seen so many fursuits in one place.

I am tempted to exaggerate, because it seems like so many are here. Thousands? No, of course not... but a few hundred isn't out of the question. Lions, and tigers, and bears... oh my! And cats and dogs, and wolves and mice, and there's a charming white coyote, and there's a blue-furred husky, and a dragon, at least one dragon, maybe two, and so many colors, and so much paraphernalia and costuming as to make one think reality was blurring. There, a tall, brawny wolf with Native American costuming, some quite specific; I see twin eagle feathers, pointing downward - a wolf of peace, perhaps a shaman, if that pipe hanging with his leather pouch is anything to go by, and the flute along with it. And over there, the lion, poised, regal, his long flowing mane waving slightly in the occasional wind that blows in from the breezy outdoors.

("Get your paws off of me, you fat ugly old fuck!")

I blink and regain myself in the present. Everyone seems to be here in costume, in something more than a costume, in a state of mind that is willing the universe to conform itself to their truth, that there is more than merely human in this world, in this city, in this building at the very least. They hug each other, and pet each other, and move and tangle and intertwine with each other. Canines wag their tales quite convincingly. Hind paws step carefully yet realistically; I can almost see felines extend and retract their claws delicately on the carpeting. Voices are real and speak and bark and comment and mew and stretch language to fit their needs. They will be real, their will be done.

(...he doesn't know that his tail is in my face, if I could just move it to the side...)

Cheering. There are celebrities in any world, and this one is no exception. They come waving friendly hellos, hugging some, giving high-fives (or fours), laughing, joking. I should know that furson, he's famous enough. And oh, wait, could it be, could it be? There in the crowd, that bright red hair, the sweet green eyes, the expression of delight on that beautiful tiger's muzzle, is it Joshua? Is it he? Is that the tiger who gave so much art to the world, gave me so many hours of impassioned yet innocent desire, to hug, to hold, to cuddle with the wonderful fursons he drew?

I stay where I am. The crowds mill and flow, a river of better-than-human beings giving forth, sharing a moment of very special reality. The rumors fill my mind, the con sex, the fur piles, the carefully designed fursuits... I let them pass. They have nothing to do with me, and they aren't why I'm here. I'm here because he told me to be. I came here, needful, terrified, and I bought a cocoa and sat in a chair and watched. I look as best I can through eyes that are clouded and tear-filled.

("Get your paws off of me, you fat ugly old fuck!")

My beard and shirt are damp. I don't move. Everything around me moves, and by staying still, I become even more invisible. Some things are too big to see, or too unpleasant to look at. They're somebody else's problem. I wait and I watch and I let the reality wash over me. They're so beautiful. And Joshua, I finally got to see Joshua from a safe distance. (Well, I think chuckling, safe for him.) They're so happy, these fursuiters, these people who know that they're more than merely human, that they are so very much more. I smile, my cheeks rising to squeeze a few fresh tears from my eyes. They're happy, and they deserve to be. I wish them well, all of them. I wish them happiness, and hugs, and love, and much, much more. I would give all of my power to help them make it real.

Why are you crying?

The voice comes from beside me, and yet from nowhere. I don't turn to look. It would hurt too much to look. "Because I wish for their happiness, with all my heart and soul."

And what about you?

"I will go back to my world. I've been told here is no place for me here."

Do you believe that?

"I don't want to."

You have the desire to give all you have to them, to make their world real. Can you not make your own world real?

"They have each other to hold fast to their reality. I have no one's paw to hold."

Would you accept mine?

I smile softly. "I will. One day. Soon, perhaps. But not here. It would spoil the day, don't you think?"

You love them.

"I do."

Then know that you are not alone. I am here.

"I'll find you."

The voice left me to my invisibility, and I watched, and I loved them, and I let my heart be full.