• She/Her

18+ Only.
30 year old Transgirl furry anarchist who doesn't know what to do in life.
Dragonuki (Dragon-Tanuki) therian. ΘΔ
Equipment Supply Liason at CESA
(I transform into things people need)
Lots of dragon and yinglet sharing, plus some NSFW.
Plural but my headmate, Nidea, is shy so don't expect to see her much.
In a closed poly relationship.
name-color: #9320DC
A pink chocobo next to the words "Chocobo Ranch"


batbeeps
@batbeeps

I had a dream last night that I was penpals with @mynotaurus.


But it was weird, we communicated using printed email threads that despite being on paper could still have clickable links and attached files.

Writing with Myno could be hard sometimes. She didn’t always know things I considered ‘common knowledge’ or understand references to contemporary culture and events.

Still, we got on alright, and eventually we decided to meet in person.

It just so happened that Myno lived in a town that I had formerly lived in, so although it took me some time to travel there, I was generally familiar with the area.

Upon arriving at the given address, there was no sign of her though. The only thing even close was a sticker tagged onto a nearby bus stop that vaguely resembled an abstract yinglet head in her colours.

I snapped a photo of it and sent it to the phone number I’d been given along with a message asking where she was at.

I didn’t get a response immediately.


It was at this point that I was recognised by someone I was friends with during my own youth growing up here.

They ushered me towards a barn nearby (this area was right on the edge of town, so not far from some farms) where we used to roughhouse by transforming into Pokémon and fake-battling one another.

A practice we had ended when they, as a Charizard, had badly bitten me and left significant scarring around my right elbow, and which had ultimately caused us to drift apart from one another.

They’d brought me here to deeply apologise and to symbolically apply a topical cream onto the scars.


That piece of personal history wrapped up, I returned to the location I was supposed to meet Myno at, not having to be there for long before receiving a video call, which somehow projected from my phone to a large holographic display.

The lil yinglet was sat on the step of a porch, demonstrating a small robot she had made to pick up parcels that had been left there and to carry them into the house.

Through the front door that was splintered and broken, with half of it being entirely missing.

Into the house that was barely more than a few standing walls and otherwise rubble.

Through the holographic display I could see that the porch and front door were those of the house I’d been waiting next to. I was at the right place.

I was at the wrong time.

It turned out we had been penpalling through time. I in the present day, Myno from some post-apocalyptic future where the land had been devastated by something or other and was only now rebuilding.

And that’s where it ended because my dreams don’t believe in epilogues apparently.


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