Omaneko SOS (Patreon)

[The following story is a fanfiction for the mascot character, Omaneko. It features a male cat-furry that can become 40 meters tall. The story contains themes of growth; nudity/fur; gentle; teasing/playful behavior; destruction/crush; paws/feet; ass/hips/crotch; handheld/carrying.]

It was a city-wide emergency unfolding beneath the blackened sky. Broadcasts called for immediate evacuations. Sirens wailed from every street corner. Signal lights flashed over a mob of traffic.

But the storm was worse than they had ever thought possible. Its howling winds first bombarded the coastside before unleashing vicious rains upon the populace, rapidly expanding into a typhoon that swept citizens off their feet and carried waves deep into their roads. More quickly than they could escape, the waters rose higher and higher, washing away automobiles and submerging whatever did not drift. Before long, the streets were hidden underwater – turned into rivers of a mucky brown, debris and litter floating between wild currents and sudden vortexes. From the rooftops where people sought shelter, they despaired over the destruction below, afraid they too would fall victim to the tragic weather as it chased up to them.

Beams of light scanned the cityscape, revealing the crowds of refugees from the darkness of night atop the powerless buildings. Zipping through the storm were metal angels – rescue helicopters flown in from the air force, braving the dangers to save those left behind in the most heavily hit areas. They spread across the sky in a fan-out maneuver, yet despite their arrival, the dread of citizens was no thinner; hopeless in their situation, there was a grim doubt the few aircrafts could truly save the day.

As the beating of their blades hummed farther away, a rumbling followed after them. It was mistaken as thunder, until the rhythm and direction pointed onlookers not towards the lightning and thunder, but from within the city. Hearts fell faint as citizens expected the shock of an earthquake – what appeared between the city buildings, however, was a titan, a savior. It was a feline beast, a bipedal creature that stood four stories tall, coated in blue-gray fur with stunning heterochromic eyes. Though his towering presence was intimidating, the locals were enlightened by his rumbling arrival, cheering his name as he marched towards the dangers he would save them from: “Omaneko!!”

That morning began as a reprieve from the rainy season. Rather than rain that early, the weather instead unrolled a fog across the puddled plains and low hills surrounding the air force base. The location was stiff and orderly as sunlight dawned upon the routine of its soldiers, an agenda that started with morning announcements and debriefs, requiring the uniformed men to leave the barracks and report to administration. There was a consistent rhythm to how everyone marched about and prepared for the day, their attitudes beginning as dull as the gray clouds in the sky, ready to run through yet another ordinary schedule like cogs in a machine.

But as packs of soldiers rounded the hill between the barracks and the admin hall, they were charmed by the image that greeted them above the fog. Amusement trickled down the lines as they looked to the landmark radar tower, where the iconic structure was found to be in an odd bind. Some laughed with remarks of it happening again, but the sternest of the soldiers were not so enthused to come upon the air force base’s feline mascot lounging against the facility – his 40 meter-tall form hugged around the building, his face lazily nestled atop the iconic radome with his arms wrapped around its flanks. Pure satisfaction was well-stated by his melty expression, despite that it was just as much time for him to begin the day. As much as Omaneko was a mascot for the base, he was also among their ranks – a special reserve unit, though his carefree attitude would suggest something less than a vigil soldier.

Obtrusively, Omaneko was seated in the path to the admin hall, his split-ended tail stretched across the dirt road and around the outer slopes. He was a blockade while he blissfully rested, preventing the soldiers from continuing; the first pack approached close to the long extent of fur, investigating its limp status with wonder if it would jump to life or not. Meanwhile, another squad went to Omaneko directly – as directly as they could be to a giant, approaching his seat on the radar tower’s base. They hollered up to his pointed ears to stir his attention, but when that failed to make him budge, they bravely pushed into his wall of fur, shoving themselves against the broad and firm muscle of his ass, disappearing into the hairs when they pushed. Though far from being able to lift him away, their effort fared enough to tickle their mascot into opening his uniquely-colored eyes – and trigger his tails into twitches, swaying suddenly side to side and knocking over those curious soldiers.

The rest of the ranks stood impressed by Omaneko’s morning movements then, watching his plentiful fur tingle as he stretched awake in little spasms. All his shivering, from his toes to his neck, led to an easygoing smile that turned to greet his comrades. Omaneko shifted, removing his head off the radome and setting his arm there instead, reeling his legs out from around the circular tower. Such simple motions consistently stunned the soldiers whenever he was in that gigantic form, for even the smallest adjustment was heavy and momentous, like watching out for a driven tank – except these tanks were paws that leapt through the air and hammered the earth, exemplified then as Omaneko stood to his full height, eclipsing the morning sunlight with his slender figure while his long hair cascaded past his shoulders.

Then, after casting a wave hello to the soldiers in his shadow, he diminished away. In only seconds, Omaneko left his towering scale and returned to his normal height – as normal as a size-shifting cat creature chose to be, deciding always to be just a few centimeters taller than his peers. The transformation was both remarkable and dizzying, a supernatural effect that was odd to make sense of; only a moment ago, his tail was playfully pushing around soldiers, and now he stood among them, that same tail stiffening behind his naked back. His clothlessness was most noticeable when he was not a looming monster, and only then did it earn reactions from his comrades, their faces blushing and gazes turning away. As usual, Omaneko met their bashfulness with natural confidence, his smile unchanged regardless of being nude – he figured the fluff of his chest and crotch were considerable enough to suit human customs. Yet, for the comfort of the air force crew, he did don a camouflage pilot’s jacket that he kept fully buttoned, at least for as long as his chosen height fit into it.

Once he was in that much of a uniform, Omaneko saluted his superior, took his scoldings smugly, then trotted behind the ranks to the admin hall. It was that exact attitude that concerned the air force’s leadership, that his lazy and obstructive behavior would be a hindrance to the base’s operations. He was a unique asset, adopted into the air force since he first appeared on earth, but there were perpetual doubts that he had the right mindset for a real mission – where real lives would be at risk.

The humidity left behind by the earlier fog made the morning exercises that much more intense, most notably for the miles-long jog around the perimeter. Soldiers were soaked in their own sweat by the halfway point, powering through the thick air with concentrated breaths cycling from each of them. Even the sturdiest runners were made slow by the heat, and there was only less motivation farther down the pack, where the most drained of the soldiers lagged behind. By the last quarter, the energy was dim, the soldiers seeming to finish the run with dragged feet.

But Omaneko had spirit to spare. Whereas his human allies were growing heavier under the atmosphere, his feline body proved to be just as limber as when they began. From the back of the pack, he gradually sped his way to the lead, passing by everyone with a reassuring smile – a grin that had his trademark coyness, his eyes gleaming for a challenge. He asked the best runners at the front to a race, but the moment he said “go,” he boosted ahead by a steep margin, leaning low onto all-fours for extra speed. Before his rivals could tap their reserve energy to compete, Omaneko was already far ahead, proving he had been holding himself back to a human pace the whole time.

He would have won his race, too, but stopped near the end – distracted by cattails growing by the creek, their bounciness in the wind attracting his playful instincts. He would turn out to be last to finish the morning jog, thus punished with another scolding, yet seemed content with his prize: two cattails added to his shoulder pocket, to be toyed with throughout the day.

It was nothing new that Omaneko liked to show-off his physical strengths to his human peers. Even during routine maintenance of the base’s variety of aircrafts, the feline made a contest out of every chore, from refueling gas tanks to replacing armor plating. It was a performance the way he maneuvered around the machinery, nimbly leaping from the runway to wings to cockpits, handling his tools with expert dexterity. His teasing personality shined with how he rocked his hips while using a drill, how he hugged fuel pumps up to his breast, how he crossed his legs on the nose of a plane after finishing first – because everything turned into a competition around him.

Of course, much of why Omaneko sped through his tasks so efficiently was for a selfish purpose: the sooner he was done, the sooner he could take off his coat and play. That was according to his whimsy, not the superior personnel; no one could reasonably prevent him from growing to his giant form there on the airfield, laid out on the pavement where he blew up to the length of three fighter jets. Lounging on his side, it was as if he was upon a bedspread of toy aircrafts, made more convincing when he claimed one such plane for himself to cuddle – an affectionate gesture that startled the team maintenancing that very vehicle, suddenly jostled from their work to be embraced in a furry hug.

Omaneko would not distract them for long, as he himself got distracted with a helicopter hovering for a test flight – bobbing in the air just like the head of a cattail. His eyes locked tight onto his target, but instead of pouncing his prey, he swiftly reached forward and batted at its bottom, his tongue peeking mischievously from his smirk as it swayed in midair. The pilot was hardly at risk, but still had to recalibrate the vehicle’s balance; Omaneko knew better than to intentionally threaten an aircraft, but that made him no less a danger through an accident–

Crrrrnkrk! The metallic crunch made Omaneko’s paw flinch up from where it had stepped. Soldiers had tried warning him, but their voices were too late to stop their mascot from putting his foot on top of a grounded plane. Omaneko grimaced apologetically, moving his paw aside to see the crippled wing and peeling armor plates. His tails dropped with embarrassment; he circled his fingers together nervously, shakily smiling as if the accident could go unnoticed, but soon enough was a superior calling out to him via megaphone – another scolding, to which the giant Omaneko endured by scratching the back of his neck. He accepted his penalty as fair, shrinking back down so that he can get to fixing what he broke. It was no matter to him, but his fellow soldiers were mesmerized by the impact of his footstep and his casual mood to venturing around that paw print of damages.

For all of his boasting and gloating, it was those mistakes that made Omaneko vulnerable to being teased himself. During their recreation period, after Omaneko finally returned from his penalty shift, the soldiers made lighthearted jabs at his expense, mockingly warning him to watch where he stepped. Though he was accustomed to the brotherly culture, an irritated feeling yet welled inside him, a motivation to prove himself as more than a clumsy giant. A game of football would be that proof, jumping headstrong into a game among recruits – an arena where he could show-off his athletic prowess.

Omaneko could almost have been a one-cat team, fluidly dashing around the other players to make flashy steals and tricky shots. His teammates naturally cheered him on, but his opponents were having to up their game, strategizing plays just around his inclusion. His fine hearing picked up on their whispered comments, happy to learn they were impressed by his skill – a fact that went right to his head and clouded his thoughts. Smugly, his plays in the game became fancier with unnecessary acrobatics all around the ball and the players.

That was up until the opposing team seized a chance for a goal, turning serious as soon as they had an opportunity to score. Omaneko had been busy accepting compliments, his chin lifted high with a cool expression, when he realized the ball had been stolen from his team. He reacted fast, jetting to the mid-field, but the ball was soon to be shot for a goal. It was only one point, but he refused to let them have that. Sparked by his ego, Omaneko made another leap forward – shooting up to his 40 meter height in that instant, a size that launched his outstretched claw across the rest of the field. With that huge reach, his hand blocked the entire goal, but also–

Foooomph! Omaneko’s transformation made for a strong and spontaneous tremor as his multiplied mass landed on the field, his weight plowing a ditch through the terrain. He had blown his scale up with little consideration of the other players, both teammates and opponents caught in his expansion. They were overtaken by an outburst of blue fur, seeded all over his body from wherever they had been angled from him. Some were bounced by his hips or were swept into his arms and legs; others were entangled in his fluffiest features, some players rustling in his bosom of fur, another awkwardly pinned under the thicket of his crotch. Still more were tripped by his two tails, which whipped lively around the field from his successful dive. Omaneko pumped a fist proudly as he rose up to a crawling posture, the displacement of the other players an afterthought to his accomplished block – regardless if it were an illegal maneuver.

One at a time, the soldiers were unwoven from Omaneko’s fur and gently placed on the ground, a ritual that had the air force mascot casting his smile aside with twinges of embarrassment. It was his quiet way of apologizing, acting cool even as he unthreaded men from off his chest and waist. There seemed to be no shame enough that would totally deflate him, maintaining his confidence as much as he maintained his giant size, happily hanging above the comrades that were circled around his wide seat.

Yet that disappeared all at once, both his scale and his ego diminishing the moment he was struck by his weakness: water. The first few sprinkles of a drizzle were enough to unsettle him, but as soon as the rain fell any harder, Omaneko gasped and vanished – shrinking suddenly to his normal height, decreasing his odds of getting wet to as little as possible. The soldiers around him had barely processed him shrinking so quickly by the time he was dashing away to the field’s sidelines; he retrieved his coat and tossed it around his otherwise nude self, wearing it over his head to deny the rain. His expression was anything but cool – flustered, aggravated, tense – Omaneko flew to the nearest cover, sheltering back to the barracks where he could focus on drying himself off.

At the same time that the seasonal rain startled Omaneko at the air force base, reports were coming in from the heart of where that weather stirred. The staff of the radar tower were notified with a list of alerts, responding as fast as they could to each issue, but the news they were receiving was hectic and sudden. The coastline had been prepared for a storm, but the typhoon that had arrived was beyond expectations – landing with tragic timing…

Curtains of water pelted from the blackened sky. Night had been imposed early upon the day by the storm’s pitch darkness. A violent sea crashed through the once bustling downtown streets. The urban hub was only barely recognizable by whatever stood above the mud-brown surface, the flooding that was rapidly rising up the walls of condos and department stores. Nature had no mercy for civilization, launching wave after wave past the harbors and into the city itself, gradually claiming territory into its vortexing clutches.

It was an impeccably powerful storm by itself, but it was not the lone disaster to strike the city. Just before the typhoon had truly been summoned, an earthquake rattled the landscape – a low magnitude result, but its untimely occurrence compounded the weather’s assault. Foundations were destabilized, made vulnerable to the sweeping forces of relentless floods; fissures staggered the streets, turning the torrents into wild rapids; bridges broke under pressure and plunged into the dark waters. Evacuation efforts were constantly troubled by the dual disasters, resulting in islands of people stranded within buildings, desperately awaiting rescue.

The air force had arrived to offer emergency support, flying in leagues of helicopters and survey planes that could cut deep into the storm. They were heralded as angels gliding overhead, casting halos of light down onto the rooftops of apartments. Yet even these aircrafts were repelled by the fierce weather, only able to venture so far against the shrieking winds – not far enough to reach the most endangered citizens. Pilots tried their hands at maneuvering through the storm, but there was no talent that could break through under the oppressive conditions. The hour grew dire for those closest to the coast–

–but hope was kept alive on the shoulders of a giant, whose paws clapped through the flooding with diligent strides. His huge size proved stalwart against the swirling winds, too heavy to be swept in the waters; his height peered over the city’s lowrises, scanning ahead and assessing a route forward. Where the helicopters could not breach, Omaneko resolved to go in his titanic form – glowing with a calm confidence, even as the downpour rushed down his athletic build and drenched his hair and fur.

The target was a beachside hotel, where a multitude of tourists were packed inside, climbing away from the flooding that went floor to floor. Omaneko could see how it appeared adrift at sea, so swallowed by the storm that it seemed already taken, prompting him to tread forward faster through the flood shin-high to him. In his head was a map of the city, memorized for situations such as these; he knew what routes to take regardless of how swamped they had become, with the flexibility to overstep obstacles and change course around the hazards. He saw how highways became valleys of muck water, cars and trucks riding the current like little boats – or like rafts, with passengers on top, waving down Omaneko for help. His feline eyes noticed them immediately, floating by at ankle-height, and by stooping down onto a knee, he shoveled their vehicle up into his hands. As they clung to their cars, they were reassured by Omaneko’s smile, relieved to be in his possession; he carried them aside to a parking garage, an unthreatened space that helicopters could more easily access. Lightning cracked in the sky as his giant image turned back around, returning to his mission without hesitation – no time to hear the applause of thanks from those he helped.

Farther along the way, as Omaneko bypassed fallen overpasses through downtown, was another scene of distress. A coast guard motor boat was returning from an evacuation, fully loaded with survivors, when it had been stopped by a clog of debris in its path. Soldiers used long prongs to pull apart the wreckage of trees and fissured earth, a slow and unnerving process. Fortunately, Omaneko was there to intervene, looming over the boat with a sheltering presence. Keeping them safe between his legs, Omaneko knelt forward and dug his claws into the roadblock, ripping up the wood and concrete in fistfuls of rubble. The dam loosened until it completely crumbled apart, allowing a gush of water to resume the current and take the motorboat forward.

But where it jolted was into harm’s way, when by chance, a building-side billboard came unlatched by a powerful wind that hooked behind it. The metallic snap shuddered the passengers below, the long sign careening towards them in a hook of motion. They braced for the worst– but they were saved by Omaneko again, when his quick reflexes had him act just in time. Though he had already stepped away in haste to the hotel, he was able to grab the billboard mid-fall utilizing his two tails, catching it with a whip of his hips. Even he seemed impressed with the last-second save, but not more than the passengers that cheered him on as they traveled onward, safe enough that he could release the debris to crash into the water.

By the time Omaneko was approaching the beachfront, he was steeped knee-high in worsening waves. Each step required a kick to push through, but no resistance could stop his progress to the hotel, driving against the eye of the storm to reach the property – nearly unrecognizable drowning as it was, gradually succumbing to the storm like a sandcastle to the tides. The earthquake had sunk a corner of the building, tilting the entire structure as gravity ate away at the foundation and walls. Residents and staff had managed to evacuate to the highest floors of the lopsided hotel, where they packed together tightly away from water rising up the stairs and elevators, but as they waited in the total darkness, emotions peaked with worries that they would never be rescued. Omaneko’s assessment was not much more inspiring, as he realized there was no easy access to the refugees inside – and no simple means to transfer them to safety.

Time was ticking, emphasized by a curl of the sea crashing into the hotel wall. Omaneko trudged up to the property, not yet understood by the people inside as something other than continuous thunder. He would have to reveal himself as a surprise – by tearing off a wide segment of the roof, exposing the refugees inside. They gasped and shrieked initially, aiming their lights up at the giant cat that peered through the breakage; there was a chaotic reaction, until Omaneko’s unwavering smile eventually calmed their spirits, his expression promising them that they were going to be saved. They rallied under his presence, but while Omaneko stood steady, he was wondering then what his rescue strategy would entail.

Thinking under stress, Omaneko concluded no better decision than to carry the citizens out of the hotel and to an appropriate airlift position elsewhere; he would get them out of danger and tag his air force comrades to get them evacuated the rest of the way. He communicated as much to his team, affirming helicopters were at the ready, as close as they could get. Omaneko’s full attention then went to that upper floor – over a hundred-and-fifty individuals to be moved, yet his head kept cool, knowing what he had to do.

Outside the opening he had made, both of Omaneko’s arms were offered as platforms for the people to board onto. His giant body would be the vessel that would ferry them through the raging storm; few were hesitant to join his embrace, scrambling onto his arms as though they were being taken into a supersized hug. His paws opened generously to fit as many people as possible in one trip, careful as he lifted that first wave out of the hotel and into the harsh weather. Bracing against a serious wind, Omaneko used his hugeness as a shield, protecting the people that were lined along his arms and clinging to his ample chest – his fur welcoming them with warmth, the fluff proving resilient against the nonstop rain.

Though the winds pushed and pulled him erratically, Omaneko persevered across the flooding, holding the citizens securely in his arms all the way through. Obstacles adrift such as freight trucks and palm trees were trampled underfoot en route to the inner-city highway, where the people could be dropped off and taken under the wings of the air force; beams of light from those very helicopters guided Omaneko through the veil of rain and darkness, the soldiers waving him down enthusiastically as he grew nearer. As soon as he could, Omaneko hunched low and let the evacuees loose from his fur, immediately embarking for a subsequent round of rescues.

Forty-some folks at a time, the hold-outs from the hotel were successfully transported out of the disaster zone. There was one batch of survivors left to retrieve, and Omaneko was just as swift to take them as he had all the others – but there was an untimely incident, changing the course of the operation. While allowing the last guests and employees into his saving embrace, he learned that a couple had backtracked into the hotel’s lower floors, desperate to reclaim precious items left behind in their room. It was a grim miscalculation, and Omaneko had to respond fast, when his arms were already literally full. Using his enhanced hearing skills, he focused past the cacophony of the typhoon and listened for the sounds of survivors – in a moment of brilliance, he located their whereabouts, pinpointing their position through the hotel wall. Urgently, he ushered evacuees out of one hand and onto his shoulders, freeing a claw that was then used to rip into the room and unleash the water clogged within. Soon enough, the man and woman were flushed out and instantly grabbed by his paw, coughing and sputtering with gratitude. With everyone in tow, Omaneko departed from the hotel, just as the sea claimed the rest of the building behind him.

But the weather swelled as if unwilling to let him escape. The winds increased to terrible speeds, slowing Omaneko’s pace and threatening to strip the evacuees out from his fur. He bundled his arms around his torso more tightly, squeezing some of the people into his bosom for safe-keeping as he continued to kick his way across the flooded landscape. His mighty size leaned against the pressure while maintaining the balance to trudge forward – but even his great scale was challenged by the swirling waters, the rocking waves, and the broken terrain. Indeed, it only took a misstep into an unseen fissure of pavement to put all those lives at risk, staggered and nearly tripped by the tides. His expression went stiff as he steadied himself, mentally recounting the people he carried; though none were lost to the water, he awkwardly realized that some were jostled loose and slipped down his torso, ending up as low as into the fluff of his crotch and hips. He had to continue in that condition, bashfully amused by the sensation but undeterred to get them all out of the storm.

Air force soldiers were quick to assist in unloading the last of the evacuees, unthreading them from the fur, regardless of where they shifted to during the voyage. Omaneko offered all the help he could under a spell of exhaustion, ensuring that everyone was safely boarded into the rescue helicopter before finally caving under the weight of his shoulders, slumping under the downpour with a weary sigh. His ears perked upon hearing cheers of celebration coming from his comrades, thanking him for his unparalleled contribution; too weak to inflate himself with pride, he instead provided a humble thumbs-up, returning the appreciation to his team. Though Omaneko was certainly the most outstanding factor from the air force, he knew the operation could not have succeeded on his hugeness alone.

Shortly after did the storm slowly break apart, the black clouds dispersing to reveal the actual night sky – a glistening moonlight that shone on a devastated cityscape. Flooding persisted through the streets, debris and wreckage strewn everywhere; Omaneko gazed over the waters, reflecting on his own soaked status as he sat squat at the base of a skyscraper. He hoped the city and its citizens could recover from such a disaster, wishing almost as much that he could be freed from the weather and get some place dry.

News of the previous night’s typhoon brought in the morning with images of the catastrophic results and reports on the remaining flooding. Photos showed the washed-up debris scattered all over town, the remnants of drowned businesses and homes, the pools of muck that would take days to drain; interviews from witnesses gave detailed perspectives of the disaster and the trials that had to be overcome. It was depressing news, a constant list of destruction and misfortune, but there was also a gleam of optimism in every article – a mention of brave efforts to rescue those in need.

The air force base was electrified by the reports, eager to see the media’s take on what had unfolded. No picture, regardless of the quality, could quite capture the real disgust and danger of having endured the typhoon personally, but the emotion resonated with the population and brought about a sense of communal resilience. Support poured in for the troops that aided in rescue operations, with emphasis on the air force’s inclusion, their skills and boldness proving critical in saving a wide number of lives.

But there was a particular focus on the air force’s special reserve unit, a character rarely seen outside the base, but that was essential in saving citizens from the typhoon. Omaneko was all over the media, mentioned in articles and features in photos. He was praised for his capabilities, recognized not only for his alien sizeshifting, but for his fast reflexes and keen awareness. Candid pictures showed Omaneko in action; treading through flooded pathways, looming over rescue boats, bracing the wind en route to survivors. His impressive scale was discernible in every photo, with angles highlighting his height alongside buildings, or showcasing his strength in moving rubble aside. Despite living with such a miraculous creature, even the soldiers stationed at the base were amazed by the reports – Omaneko was a hero, and of course, they wanted him to know as much.

A number of soldiers went outside that morning to share the news with him, certain he would be ecstatic to hear of his honors, but they soon discovered that the city’s hero was right where he could always be found. After a long and toiling night, Omaneko wanted nothing more than to relax on the radar tower – his face nuzzled atop the radome, his arms and legs draped around the side with utmost laziness. The image was very unlike the ambitious angles the media painted him with, yet true to fact was his scale, remarkably huge to look upon whether he was fording through floods or lounging on structures like furniture. They called his name, but as usual, he lay dormant with barely a flicker to his ears; his comrades eventually decided to let him get his well-earned rest, knowing he would soon need that energy for the subsequent repairs to the city that the air force would aid with.

Left alone to sleep in, Omaneko rustled against the tower, letting the word “hero” sing in his pointed ears. He very well enjoyed his unusual role in the air force, often boasting his size and abilities to the humans he lived with, but what mattered most was the difference he made in their lives.