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TRANSGRESSIONS

Transgressions is a fictional story set in the late 2010-era United States, most specifically the California Bay Area. The story is queer, furry, and quite often incredibly sad.

The story follows Vect, a mink who runs a bar and nightclub in the East Bay called Transgressions. Vect endeavors to ensure that the club is a safe haven for anyone and everyone who might seek refuge there, and in fact, the upper floors above the nightclub have been converted into comfortable living spaces to accommodate a sort of commune. However, along with Vect, all of the residents (and most of the patrons) of Transgressions harbor a deep secret that they both nurture and hide.

Meanwhile, Vect and all her allies are consistently hounded by the Apex Alliance, a paramilitary group headed by the enigmatic and cold Andrew Remmington. Remmington and the Alliance seem focused entirely on the murder and destruction of Vect and those they identify as part of her cadre. The crux of the series focuses on Vect's conflict with Remmington, and the secrets they reveal throughout their clash.

It is a story about queer hardship and suffering. But more importantly, it is a story about perseverance in the face of unfair, insurmountable odds.

Full disclosure: Transgressions is a spin off series that picks up where a very, very old line of fiction left off. The original fiction was conveyed via in-character livejournal, some decades ago. While the events and characters from that series are preserved in Transgressions, it is written with an assumption that the reader has zero foreknowledge.

Content Warnings for the series overall: Violence, Gore, Cruelty, Transphobia, Suicide, Nudity, Sexual Contact, Intercourse, Body Modification, Transformation, Foul Language, Gender Exploration and Discussion.

The following is a list of entries in the Transgressions series, in order of story chronology.

18:47, June 1st, 2014 - South Alameda County, Hotel Room

6:35 AM, June 2nd, 2014 - West Piedmont, Transgression Bar and Nightclub

20:23, July 23rd, 2014 - Somewhere in Alameda County, Apex Alliance Headquarters

11:53 PM, August 14th, 2014 - West Piedmont, Transgressions Bar and Nightclub

12:38 AM, August 15th, 2014 - West Piedmont, Transgressions Bar and Nightclub (Vect's Office)

11:24 AM, April 23rd, 2018 - West Piedmont, The Orange Cafe (Across the Street from Transgressions)

11:28 PM, 15 November 2018 - South Albany, Bayside Shores Apartment Complex

02:28 AM, 16 November 2018 - Somewhere in Berkeley

05:31 AM, 16 November 2018 - West Piedmont, Transgressions Bar and Nightclub (Exterior, Street)

10:11 AM, 16 November 2018 - West Piedmont, Transgressions Bar and Nightclub (Vect's Office)

12:24 PM, 18 November 2018 - West Piedmont, Transgressions Bar And Nightclub (Terri’s Room)

3:37 PM, 28 November 2018, Southeast Piedmont, City Street

01:14 AM, 08 December 2018, West Piedmont, Transgressions Bar And Nightclub (Side Alleyway)

03:32 AM, 08 December 2018, West Piedmont, Transgressions Bar And Nightclub

Digital File, Title: Transg~1.mp4, Date Inconclusive (Canonical)

"Delta Zero, all posts, check in."

"This is Delta four. Nothing out on the east entrance."

"Delta two. All quiet."

"Delta three reporting. All clear out he- Wait."

"What is it Delta three?"

"We've got two unknowns. West entrance. Ah, shit. Look like civvies just wandering through."

"Copy. Omega three, move to intercept. They're probably just trying to cut through the site. Get `em to go around."

"Omega three here, fit copy Delta zero. I'm on the move. `Least I get to stretch my legs."

( Story Continues... )

The horizon seemed to dance in the distance. What she could see through the gigantic window wasn't much, but the shimmering sight of sand and sky were enough for her.

She had never known anything else.

"Can I go outside?" she asked, already aware of the answer.

"No," the reply was quick, blunt. "You know this by now."

( Story Continues... )

( Author Whinging, Not Story Related )

Thin, pale wisps of fading haze spiraled up toward the midnight sky above, dissipating into nothingness after naught but scant moments. The inky dark of midnight was almost claustrophobic, despite the seemingly endless space that stretched in all directions. Even if an open sky and rolling dunes of gritty sand were all the eye could see, even if the humming illumination of vigilant light posts stood constant watch, nothing could mute the sublime and overwhelming pitch-black that seemed to chew at the edges of visible space.

It was so different here. So easy to throw her head back and see a flowing, rich tapestry of stars stretching overhead. She was used to the city lights damping them all out. Maybe, as she drove toward the city limits, she'd catch a glimpse of more than nothing. She'd see a handful or so twinkling lights in the sky, hanging low on the horizon. But those occasions were rare and fleeting.

She'd never seen the stars thriving like this.

She'd never seen darkness like this.

( Story Continues... )

( You're about to view content that the journal owner has advised should be viewed with discretion. )

ATTN: Administrator's eyes only

SUBJECT: PLEASE SEE SMS INTERCEPTION

BODY:

Poly,

One of the target's contacts reached out via unsecured text message. Though you might want to see this.

You owe me dinner next time you're up here at HQ.

( ATTACHMENTS FOLLOW )

"Ridiculous...!" She muttered, exasperated.

The severe clack of heels on metal rang through the corridor, a staccato rhythm filling the space as she rushed through. The Administrator ran her fingers through her hair as she swept forth with intensity, lab coat fluttering in her wake with an unnatural, dramatic flourish. Despite this, the other personnel moving through the hallway hardly seemed to pay her much mind.

After all, she was always like this.

( Story Continues... )

My writing is quite bad and stupid, and objectively so. Overall, even outside of my own insecurities, it's plain that there's very little that anyone would ever get out of reading what I write. The work will remain untouched online primarily, and will digitally rot in obscurity until such a time as the platforms that host it decline into disuse, disappearing from the world permanently and without fanfare.

It's a touch hard to deal with at times. But...

But I'm still going to write it.

Because no one else will.

And no one else can.

"You've been there?"

"Certainly."

"... Like, willingly?"

"Sometimes yes, sometimes no."

"Could you go there right now?"

"It would take a considerable amount of energy to pull back the facade and slip down there, but yes. I could. If I find myself in an urgent situation, that is how I move between points in the physical world."

"Wait, huh?? You mean you go in there one place, then come out here in another?"

"It is less of a corporeal or embodied process once you are 'in' there, but roughly, yes."

"I didn't realize that they were connected, here and there."

"How could you not?"

"I don't know! I've only been there once, and I was halfway certain it was a dream afterward. I don't even know how I got there - I just remember a lot of falling. And... and feeling..."

"Yes, feeling. That would be the primary function."

"Huh?"

( Conversation Continues... )

The picture juttered to life, unstable but quickly reaching stillness.

Lighting bloomed as tinny audio slowly settled into something more coherent.

"Is it going?"

The mink slipped into the scene, pulling herself into a chair set up on center frame. She gestured toward the screen, presumably indicating the camera filming her. She donned a well worn punk jacket, covered with studs and pins, and seemingly a lifetime of stories.

Her eye was swollen. Blackened. Dried blood on the bridge of her nose beneath a bandage. There was a piece missing from her ear.

Behind her, the San Francisco skyline was just visible across the bay from where she sat, which was apparently atop a roof somewhere.

"Should be! Go ahead whenever you're ready." The voice from off camera was perky and bright.

The wind was still that day.

( Recording continues... )

The Fantasy Adventuring Party Takes A Shortcut

The aged, bearded figure held his torch aloft, illuminating the lengthy hallway that stretched out before them.

"We must be swift. For though this is the shortest path toward our eventual goal, it is both treacherous and unforgiving."

( The Tale Continues... )

Trickles of freshly fallen rainwater gently burbled through the metalwork drainage pipes affixed to the side of the building.

The skies had been overcast all day long, but it wasn't until the deepest part of night that the clouds above even began to give way. It had been a gradual thickening, one that had stretched over hours, as well the horizon. Something akin to a mounting threat, an ominous suggestion of always-impending precipitation that steadily built over the course of the afternoon, swelled on into the evening, and only at this point, well past midnight, began to coalesce into substance.

It was a kind of pitiful rain, though. At least it was, at first. One might've derided it as an exaggerated, over-promising mist. The kind of weather that loomed and darkened, only to piddle its way over the eastern hills before making too much of a fuss.

Then again, sometimes the canopy could turn on you. Sometimes, after regarding the distended sky as a kind of empty threat, you could find yourself shocked by the extent of its seemingly overflowing intent.

( Story Continues... )

[The following entry was written before any of the other Transgressions fiction had been started in earnest. This scene represents a 'What If' future for the storyline, sometime in the not-too-distant future. It is not necessarily canonical, but it is important. It was not recorded here previously because it did not reflect a definitive endpoint for the series, and muddying those waters felt like a bad idea.]

[Nevertheless the themes and emotions explored in this entry feel incredibly relevant again, not only to the author personally, but also for the world generally - particularly for queer communities. As such the entry is preserved here. However, please keep in mind that this is only one of many possible directions in which the story may head. Thank you.]

( We join the scene amid the setting sun... )

"I don't need a babysitter."

Kayte and Terri exchanged glances. The towering wolf peered down with concern at the diminutive bunny girl as they walked on, each on either side of the mink. Vect kept pace but a few strides ahead of them both, obviously upset by the company.

"I can handle this myself," the mink muttered.

"Who said it was babysitting?" Kayte answered with ease, "Looks to me like we're just having a day out. When was the last time we all did something together, anyhow?"

"Ooooh!" Terri's eyes lit up immediately, her ears bouncing as she darted forward in front of Vect. The bunny turned on her heels to face her friends, walking backward as they continued along the sidewalk. "Maybe when we're done, we can all go get some boba! Or... or maybe ice cream?"

( Story Continues... )

Terri frowned to herself as she shuffled through the tight closet. She had once again let time get away from her. The hamper was overflowing, her wardrobe was almost depleted.

It was laundry day.

The bunny sighed to herself as she leaned back out of the closet holding a few articles of clean, but dire, clothing.

“It’s... It’s only for a little while, I guess. Right?” She muttered as she looked into the full length mirror on the back of her door.

( Story Continues... )

"So then. What exactly is it that you want here?" Her voice was like gravel over pavement, grunge and friction. Just like it always had been.

"What?" Vect interjected, genuinely baffled. "What the fuck do you think?"

"I'm asking you." The skunk gestured toward Vect with her glass, ice tinking against the side as she did. "I want to hear it from your mouth."

( Story Continues... Content Warning For Language )

I find it striking that everyone who complained bitterly and viciously about how much Twitter ruined the Internet - about how they loathed the way Twitter warped social interaction, about how it dominated all communication, about how it had moderation and bigotry issues - How these very people are remarkably cavalier about Twitter Part II.

Of course, it doesn't matter. The fact that hate is festering on that website and people merely ignore it doesn't matter. The fact that it will get worse and worse until the same problems as Twitter arise doesn't matter.

What matters is, this is the thing now. This is the new thing now. Get with it or be left behind. Be forgotten. Be discarded.

Of course, I refuse to put my hand on the hot stove again. So I will be counted among those rendered useless and worthless.

I suppose it isn't the first time.

I surmise it won't be the last.

Transgressions, and in particular Vect's story, were both always meant to be a telling of radical self-expression in the face of fascism, oppression, and societally enforced repressive expectations. Vect, as a character, was always meant to be defiant to the last. Perhaps out of spite, perhaps more out of love for those in her life. Maybe both. Her's is the lot to look up from the ground, bloodied and beaten, and ask her assailant "Is that all you've got?"

She never gives up.

The author, however, is not so resilient. I made Vect because I needed her.

But in this moment, she feels a world away. Impossible.

Giving up, it turns out, feels so necessary.

( Unhinged whining about the state of social media. Probably skip this. It's a lot of me feeling sorry for myself. )

As of the previous update, porting of all Transgressions entries from CoHost is complete. I'm working on additional updates, of course, but the pace of drafting is pretty slow for me (as it always is).

I've decided that the few non-canonical entries I wrote, I won't bring here. This is mostly because they were largely inconsequential vent fiction for me to kind of deal with my weird hangups surrounding group inclusion, the concept of queer villany, and [REDACTED]. So it'd be largely inappropriate to bring over.

In the meantime, I may post some very different matters and materials here! I've basically done just about zero genie stuff so far. Plus, to read my writing, you wouldn't know what a goofy goober I am. Still not sure how I'll balance things, but I would like to express myself in the genie sense, too.

Thanks to everyone for your patience as I uploaded daily, and special thanks to those of you reading along. Hope you're all doing well out there.

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phormthevixdjinn

February 2026

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Page Summary

Transgressions Fiction Landing Page
Blowing Off Steam (Literally Just A Snippet I Wrote - Unconnect To Anything)
03:32 AM, 08 December 2018, West Piedmont, Transgressions Bar And Nightclub
(no subject)
Desolate Hope (Lightning In A Bottle AU)
[AU Fragments] Dramatis Personae
Smoke Signals (AU, Lightning In A Bottle Arc)
A Matter Of Concern (AU, Lightning In A Bottle Arc)
(no subject)
A Fundamental Conversation
Digital File, Title: Transg~1.mp4, Date Inconclusive (Canonical)
An Unrelated, Disconnected, Non-Canonical Interlude
01:14 AM, 08 December 2018, West Piedmont, Transgressions Bar And Nightclub (Side Alleyway)
Future Date, 6:23 PM, Somewhere off I-580, East of The Bay
3:37 PM, 28 November 2018, Southeast Piedmont, City Street
12:24 PM, 18 November 2018, West Piedmont, Transgressions Bar And Nightclub (Terri’s Room)
9:43 PM, 18 July 2019 - West Piedmont, Transgressions Bar and Nightclub
(no subject)
(no subject)
Social Media Unpleasant Thoughts
Update Of The Now

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Sticky: Transgressions Fiction Landing Page

Blowing Off Steam (Literally Just A Snippet I Wrote - Unconnect To Anything)

03:32 AM, 08 December 2018, West Piedmont, Transgressions Bar And Nightclub

(no subject)

Desolate Hope (Lightning In A Bottle AU)

[AU Fragments] Dramatis Personae

Smoke Signals (AU, Lightning In A Bottle Arc)

A Matter Of Concern (AU, Lightning In A Bottle Arc)

(no subject)

A Fundamental Conversation

Digital File, Title: Transg~1.mp4, Date Inconclusive (Canonical)

An Unrelated, Disconnected, Non-Canonical Interlude

01:14 AM, 08 December 2018, West Piedmont, Transgressions Bar And Nightclub (Side Alleyway)

Future Date, 6:23 PM, Somewhere off I-580, East of The Bay

3:37 PM, 28 November 2018, Southeast Piedmont, City Street

12:24 PM, 18 November 2018, West Piedmont, Transgressions Bar And Nightclub (Terri’s Room)

9:43 PM, 18 July 2019 - West Piedmont, Transgressions Bar and Nightclub

(no subject)

(no subject)

Social Media Unpleasant Thoughts

Update Of The Now

Profile

February 2026

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