
After a while, she turned on the TV at a low volume, channel-surfing 'til she ended up on a foreign-language news broadcast featuring some weaselly guy in a God-awful polo shirt. It was hard to stay focused - so much more comfortable to just lie here bundled up as she kept gently scratching - but I gathered that this was the president of some South American nation, and I realized with a sigh that, like about 190% of all news stories these days, it was about the pandemic.
Even if you were perfectly healthy, took all precautions, and stayed totally isolated, there was just no escaping it. Government schmucks, pontificating pundits, TV preachers, special reports on the emergence of catgirls as an identifiable demographic/interest group...I was starting to think I might go crazy from constant exposure to it all. It sure wasn't doing my stress level any favors; I wanted to grab the TV off its stand, shake it by the figurative lapels, and yell: none of this has anything to do with me, damn it! Leave me ALONE!
But...I couldn't tear myself away. I didn't enjoy rubbernecking, but I didn't want to not be informed; there was always this nagging suspicion that it'd be the one piece of information I didn't absorb that'd lead to the critical slip-up, the mistake that'd take away everything I knew and leave something else staring back at me from the mirror... With a shudder, I tried not to think about it.
A voice-over was translating, but it was hardly necessary. Many politicians whose support was based less in knowing how to manage a country° or being able to articulate a vision for a better tomorrow°° than in selling themselves as being Take-Charge Macho Men°°° who Knew What To Do°°°° weren't taking well to an opponent that couldn't be bribed or threatened, didn't care about polls, and required no funding to operate. For authoritarian cretins whose whole brand lay in being seen as In Control Of The Situation, its constant public reminders that they weren't were an existential threat.
° (Sort of.)
°° (However unrealistic.)
°°° (They weren't.)
°°°° (They didn't.)
And so more than a few tin-pot dictators and Very Legitimate Presidents-for-Life had begun to pretend that things were totally under control and any suggestions to the contrary were lies spread by their enemies - which would've been absurd in any case, but when people were ending up with actual cat ears and tails° it was sublimely ridiculous. These types always relied on telling people not to believe their own eyes and ears, but it's a much harder sell when an increasing number of your neighbors are no longer strictly human.
° (And, frequently, a brand-new X chromosome and accoutrements.)
"We don't have to worry about contagion," the translator was saying. I didn't really need to hear any more; once you were over being flabbergasted, it was the same old song. The virus was being overhyped, transformation rates were actually low, it'd probably just go away, blah blah blah; why did we have to listen to this? Feeling annoyed, I nuzzled harder into Nicole's lap, rubbing the top of my head against her thigh. God, why did my skull feel funny...?
She didn't seem to notice, absent-mindedly scritching while she watched the TV intently. Suddenly, she tensed,° leaned forward, and burst out with a laugh. "Therrre!" she cried. "Nyahahah, didja see it? He was totally about to lick his paw." She glanced down at me, grinning, her whiskers twitching. "Mya, you missed it? Wish I could rrrewind. Maybe it's on NyewTube."
° (This really gets your attention when the person doing it has their protractible claws on your scalp.)
I stared up at her for a moment, confused, until my brain caught up. I laughed, then felt bad, then felt weird about feeling bad. Laughing at a sick man might be in poor taste, but in this case, hadn't he earned it? If there was such a thing as karma, surely this'd count. And yet...
"Do...do you think he knows?" I mused. I knew the virus induced specific behaviors in the host to help spread itself, but were the infected aware of it? Well, Nicole'd apparently noticed her own addled behavior and self-isolated, so it must not prevent them from realizing, but would you see it if you weren't actively looking? Would that be better or worse, to know, to realize that it was too late, there was nothing you could do, that it was only a matter of time before your life changed forever...?
She gave me a funny look for a moment, and I found myself fidgeting uneasily; then she rubbed my head again, and I calmed down. "Well, hsssomebody does," she said, and growled softly, "'cause they cut away in the nick of time. Dunniaow if he's the type with 'handlers' keepin' him in the dark, but he's joinin' the club whether he likes it or nyat." She frowned. "Wait, is that jackass gonnya be the first cat politican? Can we get a do-overrr?"
"Nya, it got the goverrrnor of Florida," I said, trying to remember back across (what felt like) billions of headlines that I'd taken in since this all started. "And a congressman or two; nyat sure about heads of state. Prrrobably nyo avoiding the 'jackass' part, though." I shifted my hips under the blanket; for some reason, my tailbone felt funny.
She nodded, gently massaging the nape of my neck; that pleasant rumbling came back. "Guess those guys can just stay as isolated as they want. They've got the money 'n connections."
I shrugged. "Then nyagain, seems like that just makes 'em think they're invincible - like this shmuck. Guess it's less uncomfortable to be in denial than to realize they aren't as in-contrrrol as they think." She gave me another funny look at that; I wasn't sure why.
She killed the TV, and we sat there in silence for a while, but I couldn't get the question out of my head. I was hesitant to ask again, but Nicole seemed to read my expression. "I dunniaow what it's like for everrryone else," she said at last. "I don't think it can, like, prrrevent you from realizing, but at first I was just so blissed-out that I didn't think about it. And even when I did cotton nyan, it was the kitties that kept me from goin' nyout and sprrreading it. I think it plays on our loneliness; like, I knyew I was feeling funny, but I just wanted to be with someone. Lucky I had all my li'l 'someones' rrright here."
She gave an affectionate rub of the head to the calico, who'd jumped up onto the arm of the couch, and who proceeded to mosey on over and curl up atop me, pinning my arm to my side. I tried to free it, but he was positioned exactly so's I couldn't move without disturbing him. "I think Scrrraps likes you," Nicole chuckled. "He was as skittish as the rrrest when I was changing."
Something about the emphasis there struck me funny; but more than that, her description of the experience seemed naggingly familiar, yet I couldn't put my finger on how. Maybe I was just surprised to find out she had struggled with it? Honestly, when I realized she'd managed to self-isolate during her change, I'd sort of assumed she had an easier time maintaining control because she wanted this; like maybe if you didn't fight it, it wouldn't fight back. Clearly ridiculous from an immunological standpoint, but then this whole situation was ridiculous...
"'Likes me,' or just 'passive-aggrrressively clingy?'" I said dryly, after a moment of trying and failing to figure out what was bugging me there.
She laughed; her tail twitched distractingly again. "When nyew'rrre a cat, those're the same thing."
I wriggled my shoulder in a vain attempt to dislodge Scraps. "You're tarring yourself with that brrrush niaow, you realize."
"And you'll notice I'm nyat all clingy with you," she chided. "Nya just trigger my latent materrrnal instincts, that's all." She gently kneaded my scalp; it was a welcome relief from the weird feelings in my ears and skull, but I was starting to feel pleasantly drowsy again.
"Mrr, didn't mean it like that," I murmured, nuzzling into her touch. "'N I can take care of myaself, anyway. Just...'s such a cat thing, trrryin' to monyapolize someone 'n then nyacting all, all aloof..."
She let out a mirthful snort; I wasn't sure what she found so funny, but I could feel her trembling as she tried to suppress further laughter. After a minute or so, she settled down, heaved a sigh, and rose from the couch, sliding one of the paisley throw-pillows over for me to rest my head on. "Well," she said, "I gotta rrrun out for a bit; we'll need grocerrries anya couple other things these next few days."
"Wha...?" I glanced up at her, mildly annoyed. This'd felt so nice; why were we stopping? "Mrr, come back..."
She smiled empathetically.° "Mya, I don't wannya go either, but you're nyat in any condition to do it and this's the first chance I've had since you came overrr. I'll be back in a little while."
° (I was getting surprisingly practiced at reading expressions on such a distinctly non-human face.)
Despite the pleasant drowsiness, that discomfiting strangeness from earlier was beginning to creep back into my conscious mind. Nicole's attentions had soothed me and distracted me, but the sense of alienness hadn't really gone away; I was out of my element, out of my space, but my space was all weird and unfamiliar-smelling now, my body still felt like it wasn't fitting the way my brain expected, and something was nagging at the back of my mind that I couldn't put my finger on. "Don't, uh...don't go...!" I said, surprised at the urgency in my voice.
Nicole seemed a little surprised as well. "Sorry, I gotta. I really will be back as soon as I can, I prrromise." She thought for a moment, tail lashing, then turned the TV back on and switched it to some movie channel. "Therrre," she said, giving me one last head-rub. "Wouldn't want you getting lonely."
That struck me as a little odd, but before I could say anything more she was out the door and locking it behind her; a few minutes later, I heard her car fire up and pull out of the driveway. I, meanwhile, remained on the couch, pinned by Scraps. Not that I couldn'tve moved him, but cats have a way of making it seem wrong to disturb them even when they're in your way. After a bit, he stirred, stretched, and stepped across my face and down onto the couch cushion, where he slipped under the blanket and curled up against my chest.
We laid there a while. It was strangely comforting to have the little critter nestled against me like this; granted, he was probably just looking for the warmest available spot, but I couldn't complain too much. I scratched under his chin, beneath the covers, and he began to purr more forcefully than any cat I'd ever known; it felt like he was trying to do enough for the both of us. What ridiculous li'l creatures they are, I thought, as that pleasant rumbling started in again; they go out of their way to look all poised and detached, then the next thing you know they're losing it at the merest scent of food, or getting weirdly clingy, or kneading your-
I squirmed, let out a churr of annoyance, and shifted so that Scraps was further down, against my stomach; he was "kneading" right into my nipples, which were still tender. "Mrr, watch it, nya damn cat," I murmured.
The drowsiness wasn't quite as overpowering this time, and I found myself drifting towards sleep more gradually. My mood was improving a little as well; fuzzy cat time was definitely helping, and while I still felt a little...unmoored? from my body, it was getting to be less alarming and more just strange. Nicole's living room was dark now except for the TV; I hadn't really been paying attention, but as I slowly nodded off, snatches of dialogue flitted through my brain like a half-overheard conversation in a restaurant.
"-afraid to be destroyed and re-created, aren't you?" But that was normal; who wouldn't be? Would you still be you if that happened, or someone else? Even if you were, what was the purpose in-
"-with a purpose, wouldn't you say? Maybe not such a bad disease after all." No, that was absurd; it was turning everything upside-down, robbing people of their identity, forcing them into hiding, making everyone worry...
"We don't have to worry about contagion anymore-" I frowned, confused; wasn't this that thing on the news earlier? Had the evening somehow lapped itself, or was someone else out there trying to pretend that this was-
"-not too terrible, is it? Most people would give anything to be turned into something else." Ridiculous - sure, people might go to absurd lengths to look younger, taller, more fit, but wanting to be what they imagined to be a better version of themselves wasn't the same as wanting to not be them, was it? And who would do that to you, destroy what was fine the way it was only to re-make it as a different thing, like...like you were just so much clay...
I might've dropped off for a bit; the next thing I remembered was Scraps stirring beside me and slinking out from under the blanket to go off who-knew-where. I shivered and pulled the covers tight, feeling a little apprehensive as I finally succumbed to sleep.
"-dreamt he was a man, and loved it. But now the dream is over..."
Truth be told, publishing this fragment of the story totally failed at the intended purpose of getting it off my chest and off my plate. I knew, back at the start, that "Nyandemic Story" had some issues that I was having trouble figuring out, and I really did think that it'd be better to axe this story and move on to another project that seemed to be shaping up better.
But...no sooner had I started publishing it than I found myself falling back in love. Because there really is a lot that I like about it - the cast, the setting, particular funny bits, etc. And as it turned out, the new story needed a lot more development than I anticipated, and there were things I couldn't really figure out about that...
And so I find myself still working on "Nyandemic" in spite of myself. Which, on the one hand, I'm perfectly happy with. There's stuff I want to get to in this story that just wouldn't fit somewhere else, and I don't like the idea of never getting around to it.
But on the other hand, there's still stuff I never figured out here that I'd need to properly address if I mean to continue it, and now I've gone and completely emptied my buffer, to boot - and I still need to finish the book project for "Probability Experiment..."
I'd like to be able to say outright that "Nyandemic Story" will continue, because I certainly intend it to, but I don't want to make promises before I know I'm prepared to deliver on them. It's a bit of a pickle, and I feel like a dope for putting myself in this position - but I think it's been worth it, regardless. I've really enjoyed getting to share what I have with you folks, whatever happens next, and if and when it isready to resume, I hope that you'll join me - same cat-time, same cat-channel ;)
(God, with schedule slippage like this, I should've just started a webcomic...)
Nice story just wish I got to see the reaction to being a cat.
Hopefully you will, in time ;)
Ah! I was hoping that the protagonist would hit realization before the buffer ended. So close, they were *so* close here. Nicole can't make it more obvious without just outright saying it at this point.
Denial is a helluva drug...
i really liked this!! i hope this doesn't come off as too whiny but thats such a rough place for a cliffhanger,, i was looking forward to the catharsis of the protagonist realizing what was happening
Yeah, I get it - one of the issues I've had with the story was that it took too long to get to this part in the first place. (A slow burn seemed like the only appropriate way for a pandemic-themed story to go, but still!) My hope is that that'll be a good place to pick up when I've got it all dialed in and ready to resume...
@nothingspecial eagerly awaiting that :)
@melodylastname Likewise ;)
Interesting stuff! I can definitely empathize with the feeling of being stalled out on writing projects before. Do you have a sense of what the primary hangup on this one is? A lack of clear direction to go post-transformation? An uncertainty of what Kit's own processing and eventual self-understanding of their identity would need to look like?
Given that this story is so deeply tied to the feelings of being stuck and isolated in the midst of a pandemic, I'm curious if the actual course of reality has affected your thoughts on the narrative. If you were to straightforwardly follow the real-life trend of events, then the pandemic *doesn't* really end--a simple callous lack of willingness to safeguard other people at the cost of personal inconvenience leads to a world where the lockdown conditions gradually get loosened further and further entirely separate from the actual rampancy of the virus while the few places that did implement and maintain stringent lockdown conditions gradually come to be perceived as the bad guys for it. The disease becomes a fact of life, an assumed inevitability that's undesirable, but just not regarded as something really worth protecting against. Looking back to your own setting, would that result in a true status-quo shift of the entire world? A global population careening towards becoming majority catgirls that have to rush to develop new reproductive tech to avoid a future crisis, or perhaps the evolving virus mirrors our own, becoming even more viral at the cost of some of its own power: "Sure catching the bug will change you a bit, but hey, the new strains don't even turn everyone into women anymore*! It'll probably just be ears or a tail at worst, so stop being such a buzzkill." [*Most of the time. Probably. For certain values of "woman"]
Considering more optimistic alternatives, maybe a vaccine will be developed (one perhaps a little more lasting than our own), the pandemic mostly (outside the people who refuse to be normal about vaccines) fading into memory as a strange little bubble of history that left a permanent mark on an unlucky chosen few (our MC included) which leaves them unable to simply "put it behind them" and go back to normal. Perhaps researchers eventually develop a full-on *cure* which will force Kit to confront whether they actually *want* to change back by the time that becomes and option for them.
Focusing down at a character-level, what did you want to have this story say about Kit and how they represent one's relationship to the pandemic at large? My own personal observation from the real pandemic was that those who already had some kind of semi-robust form of online community and interaction were able to handle things far better than those without who usually struggled to make that transition without having an extant foot in the door. Kit seems to already have that to some extent, but it's clear that they've always had trouble connecting with other people, and now they also at least have the small luxury of (at least presumably) not being at risk of the virus *a second time*. With everyone (well, Parker remains to be seen) there being transformed, perhaps the whole housing complex finds themselves becoming closer together, leaning into the inherent weirdness of being a cat-person to overcome the social barriers preventing them from having meaningfully connected before. After all, if people are already gonna think weird things about you, why *not* host neighborhood potlucks with mutual ear-scritching circles? It would also make sense that support groups would start popping up in response to the dramatic transformations (including ones specific to those who've had their gender bendered I imagine), and that could also be an avenue for Kit to find camaraderie and community in. At minimum, Kit will probably appreciate having someone like Nicole in their life who can help them pick up the ropes of womanhood (and cathood as well). Kit's parents haven't really gotten mention, but I'm curious what the proper etiquette is for having to open your bi-weekly phone call home with "Hey Mom, I'm uh, a catgirl nyow." :v
Which leads into the other big question for the story to answer, "Who is catgirl Kit?" Like Nicole alluded to with the bit about how "I think it plays on our loneliness", I think one can make a strong argument that a lot of the things Kit is most terrified of aren't actually particularly *new* at all or specific to the cat thing, they're deeply *human* behaviors, urges, and instincts (or at least ones broadly shared by most mammals) that have been pulled to the forefront in a cat-flavored wrapper and made harder to shove down into a little corner where Kit can pretend as though the longstanding lack of basic human physical and emotional intimacy they've become accustomed to hasn't been weighing on them since long before the virus ever entered their life. One of the core conceits of this story is the basic comparison of how "Hey, isn't having ADHD in the middle of a pandemic kind of like being a cat cooped up in a cage--the way your mind works rendering you even less suitable to a new environment where constant isolation begets mind-numbing ennui and restlessness?", and as a part of that, this whole slow-burn story so far has been filled with little bits of characterization and red herrings of potential infection which make it clear that, no, Kit is just *already like that*. As someone who also has ADHD and has lived through the pandemic, it's intensely relatable. And that's on top of all the ways that Kit's inner monologue reminds me greatly of my own pre-transition self--particularly how I felt unmoored from a concrete sense of identity, specifically gendered identity, experiencing internal confusion at displays of machismo around me because I simply could not comprehend what it really meant to securely feel masculinity as a core or meaningful part of one's sense of self. Kit's anxieties about womanhood definitely feel less informed by the fear of losing a secure part of one's sense of identity, and much more by *insecurity*--the fear that any major change would reveal the underlying truth that they never possessed a strong sense of who they really were in the first place. Ultimately while changing genders and gaining cat traits aren't something that can just be casually brushed off, in the core ways that matter most (and the ways that Kit is most scared of), I get the impression that Kit *could* more or less return to "business as usual" after all is said and done. The question Kit is then going to have to ask themself is whether "business as usual" was actually something that made them happy or fulfilled in the first place.
I personally know a number of people for whom lockdown created a specific environment where they couldn't avoid doing the kind of self-introspection they were conveniently able to dodge before, and that ultimately led to some difficult but important self-realizations about their gender, sexuality, or even just more broad sense of self. There's not really a world in which one can be properly *grateful* for the pandemic, but you take silver linings where you can find them. Being able to come out the other side of the pandemic with a better sense of who you are, what you want for yourself, and a stronger support network of friends because you've had to cultivate the skills to foster those relationships actively rather than relying on them being there passively, is about the best one could hope for.
Thank you for writing!
Ahahaha I was waiting for you to get around to this one; always enjoy reading your dissections :) And yeah, I think anyone who writes hits this point now and again (I'm still holding out for the next chapter of "Satan's Little Helper," though ;D) Back when I was starting out on Fiction Branches I'd just jump to a new story when that happened, but there's too much I like about this one and too many bits I want to write but haven't gotten to yet for me to let go of it...
The biggest functional block from the start has been that I have a lot of *bits* that I want to do, but not so much of a clear story structure into which to fit them. That's been changing (there's a couple running threads with certain characters that I think will serve as the framework for the "what comes after" part of the story, one of them involving An Event that, shall we say, is going to take a while and may as well serve as part of the timeline,) but I'm still hashing out the details; but I started in on the story before I had a good idea of it, and the process of writing ended up taking so much of my time/effort that I never got around to finishing the planning phase...
(I got lucky/spoiled in a lot of ways with "Probability Experiment," and one of them was that the natural rhythms of college life gave me that framework right off the bat.)
As far as the course of the pandemic, it's interesting to consider but I think it's more of an instigating factor and opportunity for satirical observation than a proper framework for the story. One of the things I figured early on was that, ironically, it probably *would* be easier to get people to take a virus seriously if it left you alive and well but potentially altered in ways that might call your sense of identity into question and would *definitely* flip your entire social context around - so I expect that, when they do come up with a vaccine, they're going to have a lot less trouble getting people to take it, and they've probably gotten less flack over the lockdowns as well. (Of course, there's always *somebody,* but we'll get to that later...)
But even if/when the virus is gone, its effects are gonna stick around for a long time, which is the concept for the "after" part of the story (and making the switch from the "cabin fever" phase of the story to the "so you're a catgirl, now what?" phase in a natural way is one of the other minor challenges here.) Whether or not there's ever a "cure" (the transformative potential of the virus is certainly going to be a major avenue of research going forward, so it may well be possible,) Kit & co. are gonna have a lot to adjust to in the months/years to come; luckily, as you note, they have each other to lean on...
...or would if Kit were comfortable letting himself lean on anybody ;) You're right on the money with the observation that a lot of the fears that drive his reactions have less to do with the idea of being a cat or a woman *per se* than with the fact that he's really just not super comfortable with human social dynamics and tends to avoid people more than is probably healthy as a result, and this is really nothing new. To a certain kind of person, it's less painful to remain isolated than it is to deal with the fear of screwing up/looking like an idiot (in the short term, anyway,) and Kit is definitely one of those people (as am I, by nature.)
Of course, Kit post-transformation is going to have to deal with a lot of new instincts and a whole set of unfamiliar social norms that make moments of looking like an idiot pretty much inevitable (spoiler alert,) whether (s)he likes it or not - as much as she might try to go back to "business as usual," she's probably going to find that it's not so usual anymore ;) But that's only fitting; cats are, after all, nature's tsunderes...
(Family's also gonna be a fun one to dig into. Kit is definitely on better terms with his parents than Stu was, and his issues have much less to do with their expectations of him - or his notions thereof - than with how he wants to think of himself and be seen by others, so it's probably gonna be easier for her to face up to them. The real trouble there is gonna be the moment when his younger sister realizes she's no longer the *little* sister...)
I'm happy to hear the story might continue :)
Good luck with juggling all your projects
Many thanks - and thanks for joining me :)
This was delightful. After reading through your previous work, all I wanted to do was go and find more of what you'd written as fast as possible. That this may never be continued past this point is tragic, in a way, but as a writer I've been in those exact shoes. I'm glad we got what we did, I'm hopeful we'll see more one day.
Thanks - I'm very glad you enjoyed it :) I'm hopeful as well - despite what I wrote in the foreword, I'm finding that this one is *probably* too stuck in my brain to not continue at some point, but it's gonna have to wait until I've figured out the aspects I got stuck on. Until then, I'm keeping my fingers crossed ;)
Aww, made it to the end. Well, I thought it was good so far.
Glad to hear it :) Thanks for joining me!
I'm really enjoying how slow your taking the story. I like looking into how the Mc thinks. And please take your time! I know how it is to write a story but not know exactly where it's going... yeah...
Yeah, it's kind of a challenge pacing a slow-burn story like this, but I do like the opportunities it gives to really dig into Kit's headspace. Glad you enjoy it :)
Thanks for the chapters, always enjoyed seeing it in my updates list, such a cute little story, too bad we didn't get to see kit's realisation before the backlog ran out but i'm sure you'll manage to get your think on and produce more wonderful chapters like this one <3
Here's hoping ;) Thanks for joining me along the way :)
We've never seen "The Fly" (1986), so it was actually kind of a surprise to us to search the quotes and discover they were from an actual movie that had nothing to do with involuntarily turning into a catgirl - they fit *super* well!
I mostly know it by reputation (it's been on my to-do list for ages, and most of my familiarity comes from a "Narbonic" storyline riffing it,) but it seemed like a funny thing to have playing on the TV - and then I went looking for some quotes, and was likewise blown away by how well they fit :)