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My second entry for the 
FurWritersGuild Thursday writing prompts. Check them out http://www.anthroaquatic.com/forum/.....php?board=13.0
Will scarp later.
The door to the bedroom opened, and Miles quickly scurried under a loose piece of paper. Shy as he was, he typically pretended to be asleep when his human came home, just in case she was in a bad mood. The high-schooler walked past his favorite place on the desk and plopped down on the bed, looking totally bummed out.
“Ulg, it’s not fair!” said Valerie, her voice a petulant shrill. She sighed and slumped down.
Miles poked his muzzle from under the paper and watched her for a second, his carbon-fiber whiskers twitching. He could guess what this was about. His shiny, scarlet coat caught Valerie’s eye, and with nervous resolve, he held up a forepaw to her.
“It’s not fair!” repeated Valerie again in a sob, “They promised my dad would be home next week. They said for sure he would be home for my graduation.” She started to cry in earnest.
“No, no it’s not,” said Miles in his high-pitched, hamster-ish voice, “but don’t let it get you down. Please tell me all about it.
Valerie sighed again, but seemed calmer. She looked up at the bio-pet on her desk and forced a thin smile. She had owned little Miles for about a year now, and he was her first, and the only one for her. She had tried making friends with other bio-pets at her friends’ houses, but none of them could come close to Miles in her mind. She just adored his fox-ish snout, bushy tail, and puffball body. Of course, every one of them was completely different from the next, as breeding them produced completely random results. After the import of bio-pets had been embargoed, she’d loaned him out to friends that were into breeding, but had never for a second considered getting rid of him.
He was always there for her during whatever she was going through. He was kind, funny, and always helpful with her homework. She’d spent many a night listening to inde-punk rock with him, or playing word association, or just chatting about relationships. She knew he would never betray her secrets. No, he was more than a pet, he was a friend.
He smiled over at her, then carefully leapt down from the desk the same way that a cat would. She hung one arm down, then cupped her hand near the floor while he scampered into her palm.
“I suppose you’ve been keeping up on current events?” she said to the little kit, and he just smiled.
“Of course,” he said, “you told me I should always watch the news so I could give you ‘the skinny on it’,” he finished by trying as best he could to imitate her voice. “I remember that the navy has been running training exercises throughout the Pacific, and both sides are showing no signs of backing down.”
“Yeah,” sighed Valerie, “and my dad is a Captain, so he’s been right in the middle of it.”
“So what’s changed?” said Miles, looking now with interest.
“Looks like things are getting serious,” said Valerie, her voice low and hollow, “I talked with him on a secure phone just now. He said the that the main fleet was headed north, but that a small group would break around to the west. I think they’re hoping that one of the islands declares independence, and they can swoop in to offer protection.
Miles’ eyes were wide. When he spoke, it was in a solemn tone. “That is serious Val… I’m not sure I’m up to thinking though what that means.”
Val nodded and bit her lip. “Don’t worry about it Miles. There is nothing you can do to make my dad safer. It’s nice to just have you here to listen to me.”
“Of course Valerie, anytime.”
Miles snuggled up to his human’s hand and quivered there, a warm comforting pillbug. He crooned softly as she stroked his little body, feeling restless energy. It was all he could do to keep still enough not to bother her. Their conversation slowly drifted towards more mundane topics: school, boys, the next great band. Eventually Valerie started to nod off.
Miles gave her check a tiny, wet kiss, then stealthily inched away. He hurried back to his favorite spot on the desk, a compulsion stronger than instinct driving him forwards. From a piece of paper, he uncovered the crude radio transmitter he had so carefully concealed, then connected a battery he’d stolen from a flashlight. Its signal would be weak, he knew, but others would pick it up, and retransmit it. Half the neighborhood owned a bio-pet. Eventually, his signal would reach one who had access to secure internet. His homeland must be alerted to enemy maneuver he had just learned. He looked back at his human; there would be time to console her later if his action meant her father’s life. His espionage mission must be fulfilled.
He began his broadcast.
FurWritersGuild Thursday writing prompts. Check them out http://www.anthroaquatic.com/forum/.....php?board=13.0Will scarp later.
The door to the bedroom opened, and Miles quickly scurried under a loose piece of paper. Shy as he was, he typically pretended to be asleep when his human came home, just in case she was in a bad mood. The high-schooler walked past his favorite place on the desk and plopped down on the bed, looking totally bummed out.
“Ulg, it’s not fair!” said Valerie, her voice a petulant shrill. She sighed and slumped down.
Miles poked his muzzle from under the paper and watched her for a second, his carbon-fiber whiskers twitching. He could guess what this was about. His shiny, scarlet coat caught Valerie’s eye, and with nervous resolve, he held up a forepaw to her.
“It’s not fair!” repeated Valerie again in a sob, “They promised my dad would be home next week. They said for sure he would be home for my graduation.” She started to cry in earnest.
“No, no it’s not,” said Miles in his high-pitched, hamster-ish voice, “but don’t let it get you down. Please tell me all about it.
Valerie sighed again, but seemed calmer. She looked up at the bio-pet on her desk and forced a thin smile. She had owned little Miles for about a year now, and he was her first, and the only one for her. She had tried making friends with other bio-pets at her friends’ houses, but none of them could come close to Miles in her mind. She just adored his fox-ish snout, bushy tail, and puffball body. Of course, every one of them was completely different from the next, as breeding them produced completely random results. After the import of bio-pets had been embargoed, she’d loaned him out to friends that were into breeding, but had never for a second considered getting rid of him.
He was always there for her during whatever she was going through. He was kind, funny, and always helpful with her homework. She’d spent many a night listening to inde-punk rock with him, or playing word association, or just chatting about relationships. She knew he would never betray her secrets. No, he was more than a pet, he was a friend.
He smiled over at her, then carefully leapt down from the desk the same way that a cat would. She hung one arm down, then cupped her hand near the floor while he scampered into her palm.
“I suppose you’ve been keeping up on current events?” she said to the little kit, and he just smiled.
“Of course,” he said, “you told me I should always watch the news so I could give you ‘the skinny on it’,” he finished by trying as best he could to imitate her voice. “I remember that the navy has been running training exercises throughout the Pacific, and both sides are showing no signs of backing down.”
“Yeah,” sighed Valerie, “and my dad is a Captain, so he’s been right in the middle of it.”
“So what’s changed?” said Miles, looking now with interest.
“Looks like things are getting serious,” said Valerie, her voice low and hollow, “I talked with him on a secure phone just now. He said the that the main fleet was headed north, but that a small group would break around to the west. I think they’re hoping that one of the islands declares independence, and they can swoop in to offer protection.
Miles’ eyes were wide. When he spoke, it was in a solemn tone. “That is serious Val… I’m not sure I’m up to thinking though what that means.”
Val nodded and bit her lip. “Don’t worry about it Miles. There is nothing you can do to make my dad safer. It’s nice to just have you here to listen to me.”
“Of course Valerie, anytime.”
Miles snuggled up to his human’s hand and quivered there, a warm comforting pillbug. He crooned softly as she stroked his little body, feeling restless energy. It was all he could do to keep still enough not to bother her. Their conversation slowly drifted towards more mundane topics: school, boys, the next great band. Eventually Valerie started to nod off.
Miles gave her check a tiny, wet kiss, then stealthily inched away. He hurried back to his favorite spot on the desk, a compulsion stronger than instinct driving him forwards. From a piece of paper, he uncovered the crude radio transmitter he had so carefully concealed, then connected a battery he’d stolen from a flashlight. Its signal would be weak, he knew, but others would pick it up, and retransmit it. Half the neighborhood owned a bio-pet. Eventually, his signal would reach one who had access to secure internet. His homeland must be alerted to enemy maneuver he had just learned. He looked back at his human; there would be time to console her later if his action meant her father’s life. His espionage mission must be fulfilled.
He began his broadcast.
Category Story / Macro / Micro
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 120 x 120px
File Size 4.9 kB
Rare to see the humans not be the micros in a setting with anthros.
Heh, it's funny, as she was telling Miles about what her father was up to I was thinking "She's pretty much just giving out military secrets, eh, I guess there's no harm since shes just telling them to a micro pet she sees as a close friend" ... then that twist at the end.
Heh, it's funny, as she was telling Miles about what her father was up to I was thinking "She's pretty much just giving out military secrets, eh, I guess there's no harm since shes just telling them to a micro pet she sees as a close friend" ... then that twist at the end.
Oh, I fully agree. Humans are almost always the designated micros, whether all micros are human, or there are both human and anthro micros, the macros are almost always anthro-only.
I also agree that they would be adorable! I mean, for most predator species their mind would probably think: "small furry creature = easy prey"! But most humans would probably go: "small furry creature = Awww, so cute! "
That's why stories like this catch my eye, especially since most macro pictures and stories no matter what species do or do not exist tend to be on the violent side, I am intrigued how the human's attitude towards the smaller ones is depicted when they aren't all ankle-high to everyone else.
I also agree that they would be adorable! I mean, for most predator species their mind would probably think: "small furry creature = easy prey"! But most humans would probably go: "small furry creature = Awww, so cute! "
That's why stories like this catch my eye, especially since most macro pictures and stories no matter what species do or do not exist tend to be on the violent side, I am intrigued how the human's attitude towards the smaller ones is depicted when they aren't all ankle-high to everyone else.
I'll consider following it up. In this story, I tried to imply the micros were genetically engineered to be pets, but I might tackle how humans might treat a naturally occurring micro. The only story that I can think of off the top of my head with humans and natural micros is 
4ofSwords's "Autumn's Hobby, which could be found here http://aryion.com/g4/view/250791 Unfortunately for you, that story is fairly pessimistic about human nature and tends towards the more violent.
4ofSwords's "Autumn's Hobby, which could be found here http://aryion.com/g4/view/250791 Unfortunately for you, that story is fairly pessimistic about human nature and tends towards the more violent.
Oh, I didn't mean it was just based towards this story, I was just talking in general. And yeah, I got that they were genetically engineered, since it referred to him having carbon-fiber whiskers and they actually being called bio-pets. Didn't realize there were also natural micros in this setting though.
I have seen two such stories posted on M recently actually, where the humans aren't the micros I mean.
I have seen two such stories posted on M recently actually, where the humans aren't the micros I mean.
An effervescently twist-intensive story, to be sure. First, the seemingly pastel, faux sci-fi teenage sitcom opening turns to a fairy mature parental drama that then proceeds to morph into a political thriller - and all in the most draconianly limited time. Bravo, even if you'd had a long time to formulate this before the session.
The concept of a mass-produced small sentient being could be traced back to "On The Rocks", if the addendum of our discussion of that story could be said to possess any sort of relevancy. It does make one wonder, though, how vulnerable are all kinds of highly popular consumer technology to exploits like that. On a more flagrantly consumerist level, it also makes one speculate as the approximate date of release for the first accessible fully voice-interfaced data processor, what with the newest tendencies in the gadget industry.
As a point of curiosity, was the naval maneuvers and volatile political background by any means inspired by the recent crisis at the Crimean Peninsula and the ensuing escalation ? Thank you in advance.
The concept of a mass-produced small sentient being could be traced back to "On The Rocks", if the addendum of our discussion of that story could be said to possess any sort of relevancy. It does make one wonder, though, how vulnerable are all kinds of highly popular consumer technology to exploits like that. On a more flagrantly consumerist level, it also makes one speculate as the approximate date of release for the first accessible fully voice-interfaced data processor, what with the newest tendencies in the gadget industry.
As a point of curiosity, was the naval maneuvers and volatile political background by any means inspired by the recent crisis at the Crimean Peninsula and the ensuing escalation ? Thank you in advance.
Thank you as always for your interest in my stories. This concept was one that I had originally intended to take in a different direction. I won't spoil it now just incase I come back to my original idea, but I will tease you by saying that when the espionage and technical improvisation capabilities become known to the military, they come to be known as 'gremlins'. So in that regard, you might say they afford a few more possibilities than recording conversations as shown from the Showden leaks. I would also like to point out that the concept, at least in my mind, could lend itself to a sort of ''your character here' cameo, should anyone be interested. After all, a semi-designed creature could very well be made for just about any fursona you could find here.
It's a shrewd business idea - introducing the YHC model to the writing world(if it hadn't already been introduced). If only the light bulbs in the spotlights that the literary segment of this site enjoys packed the same punch as the ones in the projectors illuminating the visual artists.
The revealed name for the creatures speaks volumes on their potential functionality, if the corresponding cultural cross-referencing is to be trusted. If their numbers are sufficiently large, and with an inbuilt ability for reproduction, any military conflict relying heavily on the use of these 'gremlins' would be bound to stop halfway after the creatures realize that they are doing most of the fighting. A perfect resolution for that scenario would be the uniting of the 'gremlins' working for all the opposing sides and issuing their ultimatum to the human civilization, holding them hostage for information and the threat of a terrorist war on an unheard-of scale.
The revealed name for the creatures speaks volumes on their potential functionality, if the corresponding cultural cross-referencing is to be trusted. If their numbers are sufficiently large, and with an inbuilt ability for reproduction, any military conflict relying heavily on the use of these 'gremlins' would be bound to stop halfway after the creatures realize that they are doing most of the fighting. A perfect resolution for that scenario would be the uniting of the 'gremlins' working for all the opposing sides and issuing their ultimatum to the human civilization, holding them hostage for information and the threat of a terrorist war on an unheard-of scale.
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