Chapter 1: ----------------------------------- Your name was Anon and a week ago you had been displaced from the comfort and security of your low-income single-room apartment to the lukewarm streets of some sleepy southern city. This was no ordinary city however, this town was entirely populated by anthropomorphic animals as far as you could tell. Asking if there were other humans just got you strange looks, and people asking if you needed to go to the hospital. You found out quickly that the locals seemed to think you were a very sick or deformed chimpanzee, making references to your sparsely-haired skin and lack of a muzzle. Said locals were oddly charitable, your begging being met with a shower of bills until you had amassed a grand or so by your third day. Other bums in the city didn’t seem to make nearly as much as you did, and they would always give you the stink-eye. Thankfully none of them decided they wanted your money for themselves. There was one disheveled tiger who almost mugged you, but upon getting closer he stopped with his face twisted in fear before running away. This was a bit worrying to you, what about you was scary enough to send a fully-grown tiger running away? Four days ago you managed to secure a job, having walked into a hiring retail chain and obtained one without much difficulty. Your current homelessness wasn’t an issue evidently, and it only took a short trip over to some alphabet soup government building to get an ID issued. You were suspicious now that these people were treating you too well, but it also could just be how things worked here. You were an alien afterall. Maybe people were just far more trusting and the world a bit kinder to people down on your luck such as yourself. Two days ago you began to search for some form of housing, using some additional begging funds to secure a night or two in a cheap motel. It was far better than the outside, the cramps were an issue even if the temperature and mosquitos weren’t. With your current luck, you managed to secure a room in a shared flat not far from where you would be working. You weren’t a stranger to living with roommates, having done that in college. You were understandably nervous about the whole arrangement however, with his place being far more different than your own. What sort of social norms would you have to learn, what words, idioms and phrases would you have to stop using? Eventually you gave up on worrying about what ifs and resolved to learn as much as you could from your new roommates and community. Today, your paperwork was finally sorted and you were ready to move in. Whatever meager possessions you had were tucked away within a cheap duffle-bag that was currently slung over your shoulder. Thankfully the motel you were staying at did have a functioning shower, although it was arguably the grimiest thing you’ve seen in your life. You weren’t exceptionally groomed, but you didn’t smell like a bum either. You made your way through the town, sweating lightly under the warm morning sun. The apartment complex was a fair few miles from where you were currently staying, so after an hour or two of walking you arrived at the office. Quickly stepping into the air-conditioned bliss, you’re met with off-white drywall and tiles, with sparse decorations consisting of tropical indoor plants and some small landscape paintings mounted on the wall. You walk to the desk, and depress a button mounted in the counter before trudging back to plop your ass in a chair. After a few minutes, an old and thin alligator emerges from one of the back rooms. Dressed in a white suit complete with a black bowtie. You swallow the urge to comment on his Colonel Sanders attire and simply give him a polite wave, striding up to the counter. He gives you a little bow and similarly waves his hand in greeting. “Monin’ Anon, are you doing alright so far?” He replies in the thickest South-Georgian accent you’ve heard in your life. “I reckon I’m doing just fine Mr. M-” You trail off as you struggle to remember his very complicated and long-winded last name. He smirks and gives a dismissive wave of his hand. “Oh don’t worry ‘bout it. Everybody jus’ call me Gregory, only met a few people who’ve ever managed it on the first try.” The gator moves out from behind the counter to stroll up beside you, despite his old age he’s still much taller and a bit bulkier than you. “So, I’m assumin’ you’re here about your new livin’ arrangements?” He asked, strolling over to the front door. “Yessir.” You reply quickly, following him outside when he pushes the door open. You follow the landlord out to an old, dusty and beaten golf-cart. The blue paint has been bleached to a light cyan over the years. The old gator sets himself down and into the seat, you quickly hop in beside him and he wastes no time in gunning the vehicle forward. You quickly grab a hold of the seat as you’re lurched forward and speeding down the concrete path to your new home. There are six buildings in the complex as a whole, including the little shack serving as an administrative area. The residential buildings and the front desk are arranged radially in a hexagon-like formation. A concrete walkway connects each building to the other ones, converging in a circle with a massive oak tree stretching out over a maintained garden and a few benches. The rest of the space is filled with grass and smaller trees. You’re in Complex Two, in Apartment 2-B-7. Your landlord skids to a stop in front of the staircase leading up to your flat. “Remember Mr. Ymous, if you need anything, or’ve you got any questions. Just give me a holler.” You step off the cart with a shaky leg, and give him a polite nod. He wastes no time and promptly speeds off, leaving you alone with your duffel bag. You take a deep breath and begin to ascend the stairs to the unknown. You arrive at the door, and swallow the knot in your throat. You rasp on the door with your knuckles. Before you can even straighten your hair the door is flung open to reveal a young perky… rabbit with short, rounded ears and prosthetic feet. Her coat is a light brown and black mix with splotches of white scattered around, and she’s currently wearing a pair of baggy shorts and a tie-dye T-shirt that hangs loosely off her shoulders. She is much shorter than you, barely rising above three feet in your best estimate. Her smile falters for a moment as she sees you for the first time, before quickly resuming her cheerful expression. “Oh! You must be Anon. Gregory called us earlier to let us know you’d be moving in today. Well come on in, but please do leave your shoes on the rack by the door.” She commented, scooting back into the apartment to let you in. Stepping inside the dim hallway, you’re met with the heavy scent of sandalwood and vanilla. Not overpowering, but strong. Given that you’re living with a bunch of animals, it makes sense that they’d mask scents with fragrances. You kick off your shoes on the rack, only finding a couple of prosthetic attachments for the 'rabbit' and one person’s pair squared off in the opposite corner. The 'rabbit' bounces past you and into the common room, which is a living room with what looks to be a sixty five inch flat-screen mounted above a table with a DVD player or two set upon it, several speakers sit in the space below the table. Around the television is a seating arrangement of two worn but clean couches of differing color and upholstering, and a tattered recliner that despite its imperfections looks incredibly comfy. The kitchen sits opposite of the living room, divided by a small counter and a metal strip that separates the tiling from the soft brown carpet. It’s a normal kitchen with all the standard amenities that you’d have back on your own world. “The bedrooms are back this way, my and Luciana’s room is to the left at the end and the bathroom is before that. Your room is down to right at the end, with Henrik’s and Noah’s room before yours in that order.” The 'Rabbit' calls out to you from the T-shaped hallway, having moved there while you were taking in your surroundings. “Your room is a bit bare-bones at the moment, but the previous owner did leave some things for you to use so don’t fret too bad.” She adds hastily, giving you a genuine if nervous smile. “Thank you, although I don’t believe I caught your name Miss…?” You trail off, motioning with your hand. Her ears go erect for a split second before deflating. “Amelia, Amelia’s my name. Sorry, just got too concerned with getting you settled.” She sighed. “I’ll be at the dining table in the kitchen if you need me, or on the sofas. Luciana’s sleeping right now and Noah’s streaming, so Henrik’s the only person you’ll meet here soon when he’s done practicing.” You heard the faintest riff of a distorted electric guitar for a moment. ‘That must be Henrik’ you rationalize, and either he’s playing really quietly or there’s some great soundproofing in this apartment. You give a curt nod to Amelia before gliding down the hallway to your own room, passing by Noah’s room you stop to listen for a moment. Catching what sounds like a younger guy talking about a game of some sorts. Likely some Minecraft clone if the talk of ‘diamond sword’ held any water. Continuing forward and pushing open the door to your room, you're met with the standard off-white drywall and a room devoid of any form of decoration. A double-sized mattress sits beside the opposite wall, directly underneath a window. It sits atop one of those solid bed frames with doors opening up to underside space. Aside from the bed, a solid-looking oak dresser sits next to a closed closet-space directly to your right, and what looks to be a TV-stand of some sorts on your left against the adjacent wall. Like Amelia stated, it was devoid of anything save for the furniture left behind. You’d have to go out later and pick up some amenities then. You really weren’t looking forward to walking more, so hopefully one of them had a car and was willing to drive. That was another thing you’d need to do, get your driver’s license in this strange world. You toss your duffle bag into your room from the doorway and quickly close the door as you head back to the common area. Whereupon you crash on one of the sofas and attempt to nod off. Moments later you hear the soft clack of prosthetic feet drawing closer to the opposite end of the couch, and a soft grunt as someone sits down. You hazard to open an eye and spot Amelia sitting on the opposite end of the couch, giving you what looks to be a sympathetic gaze. “Sorry if I woke you up.” She hastily adds, flicking on the TV to some form of local day programming. She’s curled up in the seat, with a zoology textbook of some sort laid in her lap. “Oh no I’m good. Thank you for being considerate though.” You reply, straightening yourself out on the sofa before sinking into a more comfortable position. “While I’m here, is there anything we should know about? Like medical-wise, etc. Luciana has issues so don’t feel nervous about coming out with them, we’re a judgement-free apartment here.” Amelia makes a stroking motion on one of her arms, referring to your lack of fur. “Oh that. Yeah I get that alot, I’ve Ichthyosis so I don’t have much…” You stop for a moment, before the word comes to you. “Hair.” Amelia noticed the pause in your speech and continued looking at you expectantly. There was no point in hiding it, if you were going to live with them, they’d find out about it pretty quick. “I’ve dysphasia. Anomic. It’s better some days, worse on others.” You didn’t feel quite comfortable revealing your ‘tism, but with how good you had gotten at controlling it you doubt it’d ever have to come up. You also weren’t lying about the Ichthyosis, thankfully you only had a mild case. Amelia lets out a low ‘ah’ and jots something down on a notebook laid upon her armrest. “Thank you for letting me know Anon. I assure you that it won’t leave this household if you’re not comfortable with it. That being said, if you ever need any help at all. Let one of us know. We take care of each other here.” Amelia flashes you a warm smile before turning back to her books. Your gaze falls to her short, rounded ears and her rabbit-like muzzle and before you know it you’re already asking. “I haven’t seen your species before Amelia, which are you if you don’t mind me asking?” Amelia smirks before turning back to you. “I’m a Pika, American Pika to be specific. We’re not very common this far south and east. All our fur makes it uncomfortable, but I’m not nearly as fluffy as some of my family are. So it’s manageable so long as I keep myself trimmed. She turns to you, a gleam in her eyes. “What species are you? I can tell you’re a simian, an ape to be specific. Broad chest, brachiating shoulders, no-tail, etc. You’ve got really long legs and short arms for an ape though.” Recalling that no one took you seriously when you said you were human, or asked about them. You invent a lie up on the spot for Amelia. “I’m a chimp actually, really deformed though.” You motion to your lack of muzzle and your feet. “‘Was a small miracle I was even born,’ said the doctors.” Amelia gives a small, shocked gasp and immediately reaches to give you a pat on your shoulder. “I’m so sorry to hear that Anon, school must have been awful for you.” “Oh don’t worry about that. I’m out of that dumpster fire, and people here have generally been pretty nice to me. Appreciate your concern though.” You close your eyes and lean back on the sofa once more only to be disturbed by the sound of a door opening and closing, and the thump of heavy footsteps on the floor. You turn around to spot a massive bear with a dirty white coat splotched with patches of brown fur. He’s dressed in a white wife-beater, over which a thin black jacket with multiple band patches sewn onto the tough fabric. He wore baggy black shorts to match his jacket. Unlike Amelia, he seems to have a head of hair. The outgrowth of fur being a white mop atop his head that gradually turns darker and browner as it grows closer to his face and neck. He even has a pair of tinted round glasses perched upon his hair. He’s got to be a foot or two taller than you, definitely more than seven feet and eight inches. The massive bear locks eyes with you, and arches his brows in surprise as he spots you. “Damn, Greg wasn’t kidding when he said you were ‘baldish’.” He chuckles, walking up behind the sofa and bracing his weight against the back. “I hope that’s not communicable, gonna have to gas the whole building if that’s mange.” You open your mouth to protest and fight back, but Amelia beats it to you by shooting Henrik a dirty glare. The bear guffaws and steps away. “Oh don’t look at me like that, I’m just ribbing the new guy. And if you took offense Anon, I’m sorry.” He clarifies, stepping into the kitchen and rummaging through the fridge for something. You snort. “Nah it’s fine. Hell, I’d rather be bald than furry down here. Think I’d die of heatstroke otherwise.” “Heh. Isn’t that the damn truth. Anyways, what brings you to our lovely little abode Anon? Where do you come from, what do you do, all that basic stuff.” Henrik asks, slamming the fridge door shut and walking into the living room with a bottle of brownish liquid clutched in his paws. He strolls over to the shorter love-seat and falls down upon it, kicking his bare paws up and out. “Well. I was homeless for a brief stint after moving here. Lost my family, friends, home and job in a freak accident. So I just kept travelling until I ended up here with only a few dollars to my name. Begged around, managed to find a job and get some income and got enough for a down-payment here. Wasn’t very pleasant but I managed.” You reply, noticing Amelia fixing you with an even more sympathetic glance than last time. Even Henrik’s bravado falters for a moment in the face of your half-true story. “Shit man, that’s like… fucked. Brought my own mood down just hearing that.” He pauses and takes a swig of his drink. “If you ever need to talk about it dude, just let us know. A whole bunch of us here have tragic backstories and stuff. Seems like this place just attracts us, fate or some other bullshit like that.” “I don’t need a pity party, but thank you for the offer. I’m over it mostly.” You lie again. The truth was, being severed from all the people you had known and loved and being saddled with the thought that they were heartbroken from your sudden disappearance and inevitable ‘death’ really stung deep. After a few days here that realization had sunken in, and you had to stop thinking about it just so you could stay functional. “That’s alright Anon, was just an offer.” Henrik states, staring off for a moment before his head perks up. “Speaking of offers. If you were homeless I don’t take it you have much in the way of furnishings or personal amenities I’m guessing.” You nod to confirm his idea. “Then I’ll drive you over to the Walton-World to pick up some stuff. Or wherever else you really need to go. Sound like a plan?” You smile, nodding your head and closing your eyes as you truly collapse on the large sofa. Extending your legs out fully while still leaving room for Amelia. “Yeah, thank you Henrik. But first I want to take a nap, I’ve been walking since this morning and my legs are killing me.” Henrik gets up from the couch and starts trudging back to his room. “Understandable, just hit me up when you’re ready to go. I’ll be in my room, just give a knock before you enter.” After Henrik’s departure, the gentle hum of the air conditioning and the muted sounds of conversation playing out on the TV lull you into a state of relaxation and eventually sleep. You’re not sure what you’ll do with your life yet, but you do know one thing. This place is much better than a ratty motel and the streets.