It’s been a year since I relaunched this website. I have a lot of stories to tell, and I feel like perhaps I’ve been beating around the bush with this particular subject. I’ve mentioned him on this website before, mostly in passing or tangentially, but I would now like to address the elephant in the room. I would like to share my thoughts on my very complicated relationship with Varka.
Before we begin, I would just like to reiterate the same disclaimer that I stuck at the top of the entry “The Misunderstood Tale of Herpy”; I am not writing this post as a means to absolve or accuse anyone of anything.
I have nothing to hide on the subject, but I’m not going to ballwash the guy nor am I going to sensationalize trivial matters and blow them out of proportion for attention. Varka is a very secluded person that extremely few people have ever been close enough with in order to understand how he works. Part of the reason why people obsessed over him for a period is because he was a furry millionaire playboy, easily the most successful person (financially) to participate in the fandom, and that combined with his air of mystery just implored people to fill in the many blanks with whatever sounded correct because they wanted answers.
I’ve met the guy. I ran one of his websites. I’ve ridden in his Audi with the BADDRGN plates. I’ve been to his house. I put up the drywall in his garage. I rewired the server racks of his VPN business. I took a tour of the production facilities of his world famous company. I was probably closer to him than 99% of the furry fandom, and past a certain point I realized that it would be in my best interest to cut ties because despite all of this I could not shake the feeling that there was still something afoot that wasn’t kosher. What that “something” was I genuinely could not tell you, but something always felt off to me. Performative. I can’t describe it to you better than that and I had this weird feeling of dread that something bad was imminent and I was going to be caught in the crossfire. Something something “standing too close to a fire and smelling like smoke”.
There isn’t going to be some bombshell reveal in this meandering journal. This post exists as a means for me to collect my thoughts on one of the most complicated relationships and hardest decisions of my life.
I first “met” Varka at the very tail end of 2007 when I made an introductory post on Herpy. The post is long gone, but I remember my post being very wordy and I talked about how much I liked dragons and how they were the reason I found the website because a tertiary dragon friend of mine linked me to the Herpy gallery over MSN Messenger. As seemingly trivial of an event this was for some reason I remember an unnecessary amount of it. Varka posted in my welcome thread, which I’d later come to realize was something he practically never did on the forums. For an administrator, he had very few posts overall.
In as little as a year from that point he appointed me as his replacement on the message boards. He was off to start Bad Dragon and he’d pay to keep the lights on, but I was now Herpy’s community administrator. At that time I was also in the middle of a becoming something of a “rising star” in the furry fandom with the small collection of stories I’d written (further reading: Konned – An Origin Story). This all coincided with me traveling to Further Confusion in 2009, where I actually met Varka face-to-face for the first time, as he was there representing Bad Dragon in the dealers’ room (further reading: My Fifteen Minutes at Further Confusion). I’ve described the meeting as “off” because despite me being the guy who was behind the wheel of his massively popular niche gallery website he just seemed kind of distant toward me. Part of me wants to say that it might be because in hindsight I do believe Varka is some flavor of autistic, but at the same time he seemed fine and even closer with other people whom I just perceived to be random passersby; I specifically remember an interaction between him and the artist Jace where Jace half-jokingly offered to give Varka a commission free of charge in return for one of the new Bad Dragon toys. I don’t think Varka took him up on that offer but I do recall him being more open to the banter. (Side note: I might be either spelling Jace’s name wrong or misremembering the person entirely and confusing him with someone else, he had a feathered white herm dragon fursona and was really into egg play so if there’s a mismatch with the name that’s who I am talking about here.)
I didn’t see Varka again for quite some time after that. In 2011 he and I were not necessarily on speaking terms because some trolls had exploited a security vulnerability where Herpy’s phpBB forum software connected to its gallery and defaced the entire website and brought it offline (if you had an account on one you automatically had one on the other so in layman’s terms the vulnerability was at this junction). Varka let everyone know the site would be up within the week and then that can just kept getting kicked down the hill until it stretched on for several months during which everyone who’d been cast astray to various MSN Messenger group chats were growing pissed off at me because I was supposed to be “the guy in charge”. It was a stupid ordeal, petty internet nonsense that doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of things. When Athus passed away on October 11th of that year Varka did call me personally and we spoke for a while. That in and of itself is a whole other can of worms (further reading: I Have Complicated Feelings About Athus Nadorian) but the short of it is the website did eventually make it back online.
And then Varka and I just proceeded to not really talk to each other for another several years.
Time passed. I worked in retail inventory management and IT for a few years slowly spiraling emotionally for reasons outside the scope of this post. In 2016 I moved back to my hometown and I guess Varka caught wind of the situation because on a whim he reached out to me and offered me a job. Nothing glamorous, he just needed work done on the house he’d bought out in rural Arizona. He could’ve very easily just written me a check and said “hope things get better”, but through the way I see the world I actually found it a much more meaningful offer for him to pay me to help renovate his house. “Work builds character. Handouts don’t.” Something like that. I’m very old fashioned, if that helps establish context. He and I were speaking the same language.
He actually paid my airfare too, both ways, and I spent about two weeks in the middle of the desert working on his new garage with this scrappy local handyman he’d also hired. I worked outside in the garage pretty much all day, we’d grab something to eat, and I’d crash in Varka’s guest room.
I saw a different side of Varka during the two weeks that I was out there working and I don’t mean that as a euphemism for “I slept with him”, because I didn’t. I meant it more as the way you get a more intimate look at how someone lives their life when you’re actually in the place where they, well, live.
Varka’s house is kind of a strange place. He’s obsessed with sound and audio and all that so instead of a proper television in his living room he has a giant projector screen. Behind that screen he’d carved a hole into the wall into the neighboring room and pushed the wall further back to make that room slightly smaller. Inside the new gap he’d made were two absolutely massive speakers that Varka had built himself. I don’t understand the first thing about acoustics and how you build a sound system, but just looking at these I could tell there was a lot of god damn complex math and measurements that went into the tilt and pitch and size of all these divided sections and chambers and the end result was something that sounded incredible; genuinely, like a movie theater. They were unpainted and kind of ugly in that regard and when I asked Varka about it he said it didn’t matter because no one would ever see them because they were behind the screen. That makes sense I guess but it just seemed odd to me that you’d go through the trouble of making something so intricate and complex and then just leave it looking like untreated wood. It’s certainly an aesthetic choice.
I discovered in those two weeks that Varka and I shared a sort of snarky and nerdy sense of humor. When I was helping build the little attachment on the back of the garage that housed the air compressor we had to cut drywall panels that had slants on one side. Rather than just write the measurements on the edges to show where they fit I instead wrote the mathematical equations that you’d use to find said dimensions, square root symbols and exponents and all. Varka got pissed off for a brief moment because I was being intentionally obtuse, but he did ultimately think the gag was funny after we’d gotten the panels hung and mounted flush with the wall studs.
I remember Varka being strange with how he chose to spend his money. Back in 2016 he was one of the first people I knew who had a VR headset and this was back when the Oculus Rift was brand new and the company hadn’t been bought my Meta/Facebook yet. Wearing that crap made it look like you were plugged into the matrix because the back of the headset had this bundle of cables for the screens and sensors to communicate with the PC since none of it was wireless yet. It was goofy as hell but I remember spending several nights just screwing around in those very early VR games that were more like “experiences” than anything else. Job Simulator, Superhot, Hotdogs & Hand Grenades, and that one where the entire point is to just build crappy IKEA furniture. It was genuinely a lot of fun, and yeah we even screwed around in 3D Paint drawing giant dragon dicks and pretended to jack them off with the hand tool icon. Back then that was pretty much it in the way of things to do in VR.
Speaking of dragon dicks, that’s really kind of a subject that’s inseparable from Varka isn’t it? He seemed to enjoy dropping a significant amount of money on kitschy and highly pornographic artwork that he would unironically just frame and hang up on the walls. In his den one entire wall was occupied with a digital painting of Draco from Dragonheart with his cock out. I recognized the artist of the painting too, it was someone I hadn’t heard a peep from in many years. Someone who’d just called it quits and vanished. This was a piece of work by them that I didn’t recognize and that was because Varka commissioned this one specifically just to have it in his house. He had such an influence that he was able to pick furry artists who’d long since retired and rope them back into making something again purely for his eyes only. I didn’t ask him how much he spent on it because it’s none of my business, but the sheer pull he had on the fandom was fucking crazy.
On another wall in that same room he actually had an area (another entire wall just about) sectioned off with masking tape in a perfect rectangle. In the middle of the box, just off to one side, he or someone else had haphazardly also written the word “ART” in blue masking tape. There was a brief moment where I almost thought that in and of itself was supposed to be some high concept pretentious crap, but no it was genuinely just a placeholder. Varka thought it was funny that I’d thought that however. I didn’t spend a lot of time in his bedroom because I’m the kind of person who does not go in someone’s bedroom unless I’m specifically invited in, but he did have a lot of smaller art prints lining the walls in there. I never really got a good look at them, though.
It was an interesting two weeks out there. Varka just owns a lot of random things that I guess you’d only be able to get your hands on if you had the kind of disposable income that he has. I’m talking about stuff like a computerized paint mixer, the kind you’d see behind the counters at The Home Depot (or “The Homeless Despot”, as Varka liked to call it) that squirt the exact amount of colorant into the white base before you seal it and put it on the shaker. He didn’t even have the computer that the device went to, he just had this giant dispenser thing that looked like the most complicated soda fountain I’d ever seen. He also had one of those vending machines that dispenses egg capsules, this one was shaped like a big yellow dinosaur and it was actually still partially full of prize eggs. I asked him what that was for and he showed me; he plugged the vending machine in and a voice that I presume was the dinosaur said “nice bike, faggot” before dispensing one of the eggs. Inside of it was one of the little silicone keychain versions of a Bad Dragon toy. Not only had he acquired this vending machine and filled it with tiny dildos but he’d also apparently hacked the board and had someone record new lines for it so it would call people a “faggot”. It was for Burning Man, apparently. People ride around on bikes there a lot. I wouldn’t know, I’ve never been.
By 2017 I’d made the first few steps toward getting back on my feet proper after a difficult couple of years. However, that summer most of my home was destroyed by Hurricane Harvey and as a result of that I wound up displaced for an extended period of time. Varka invited me back out to Phoenix for another couple of weeks and he and I spent a little more time together. I wasn’t sure if I was going to move out to Phoenix or what, there was kind of the implication that maybe something like that was on the table and we’d figure things out when I got there.
Like before, Varka asked if I’d like to help him do some things in exchange for payment. That sentence is not as dark as I accidentally made it sound. He just needed some help with some more stuff, this time he was aiming to tackle the arduous task of cleaning up the cabling for the servers owned by his VPN and hosting business, I/O Flood. We went to an enormous building with no branding on it, the datacenter where all the servers were located. It was the most unremarkable building I’d ever seen, like how when you drive past a city on an interstate and you see all of these giant buildings that have to be some kind of corporate headquarters for a bank or something but you still wonder what could possibly need a building that large? It was one of those buildings, and there were more things there than just the server farm but that was the section of the complex where we went.
There was another guy who worked in the building on location whose name for the life me I cannot remember, but he was another dragon furry. The three of us went into the server room and I don’t think I can properly describe to you how loud these places are if you’ve never been inside one before. It was just a literal wall of noise. It sounded like soccer vuvuzelas, a swarm of bees, and a power transformer in need of service all at the exact same time and coming from every possible direction. If you plugged a white noise generator into an amp thinking it would help you get to sleep even faster this was the noise it would make.
The on-location guy led us back to one of the server racks that to me looked like all the others. Each of the spaces you rent was sectioned off with chain link fencing and padlocked, the whole place looked like the world’s biggest dog pound. As we approached I/O Flood’s server racks though, I realized what Varka meant when he said “cleaning up the cables”; I know there’s such a thing as “cable management porn” like there is “food porn”, those photos of tightly bundled groups of cables that part nicely in the middle of the server rack and go off to either side like a cascading waterfall. Well this was whatever the opposite of that was, this was an absolute mess. Somehow this seemingly tangled mess of CAT-5 cables was keeping Bad Dragon and every other website Varka owned online. It looked like what happens when you don’t put Christmas lights away properly. Everywhere.
We spent the entire day, Varka and I, radioing to the third guy who was logged in remotely from the offices elsewhere in the building watching activity on every single server port making sure that when we unplugged one cable, reran it, and then plugged it back in exactly where it was prior that we didn’t mess anything up. Part of the way into this process Varka thought it would be funny to put something on to listen to while working and what he wound up doing was opening his laptop and bringing up the ten hour cut of the sexy Gandalf GIF with the Epic Sax Man meme sound loop playing over and over again… and he wound up leaving that on for far longer than what would’ve implied it being just for yuks. The video had played long enough where you could see red on the progress bar. I genuinely do not know how he was able to stand having that on for as long as he did but I wasn’t going to say anything. Somehow it was louder than the server room’s ambient noise. He was kind of obsessed with that video too, as he’d previously shown me a prank video of someone bringing up that same ten hour YouTube upload on every terminal in a university computer lab.
While we were out and about in Phoenix, Varka also took me to the Bad Dragon facilities where all their products were made. I don’t really think I can/should go into super elaborate detail here because I did have to sign an NDA when I showed up and I don’t know how long those things are good for; this is something that happened 9 years ago so I honestly couldn’t tell you the fine print. That said, you’re not really missing much when it comes to “how the sausage is made”… literally and metaphorically. I recall being able to meet DOPR5, a dinosaur artist from another era of the fandom, and he was an alright guy; we only got to speak for a little while but we chatted a bit and he did remember me as someone he’d done a commission for as well as the person who became the community administrator of Herpy (a website he was formerly very active on, though that was before my time).
I guess since I’ve invoked its name at this point in the timeline I should double back to that “Herpy” matter. In 2017, Herpy was dead and gone in an official capacity. You might recall that for a couple of months Varka had left a closure notice on the homepage that threw the moderation team under the bus for “allowing questionable content” (paraphrasing). Well, that included me right? You’re probably asking why the fuck am I chumming around with him a year after that shook out? That’s a very good question, and I wish I had a concrete answer for you. Varka axing Herpy was something of an underhanded pitch to everyone, he said he’d done what he’d done in the hopes of extinguishing everything outright; he had this weird analogy he liked to say about another season of leaves falling onto the ground and covering what was previously there, meaning that after a period of time people would stop caring and move onto other things. In the grand scheme of things, I think he was right about that. But in the immediate aftermath that analogy was how he sanded down the corners of what had happened, and I appreciated his offer to help me get on my feet both after I was laid off and when a hurricane blew my house down. I don’t think he was taking advantage of me or anything, but I do think he just wanted to shed the burden that was Herpy and torpedoing it the way he did was the only logical choice. “No hard feelings,” is how it was phrased to me. And I believed it.
Back at the Bad Dragon facility I met a couple of employees whom I did not know and who did not know who I was, just that I wasn’t someone they recognized and was kicking around in places that random nobodies definitely were not allowed into. Varka would come and go as he stopped by various rooms and offices to talk to people and some of those conversations were things that I was not privy too so I’d hang out around the building’s communal areas. The people that caught sight of me and didn’t know me looked suspicious at first until they saw the Big Man come around to lead me elsewhere, then I guess it sank in “oh he’s with Varka he’s supposed to be here”. Was just weird to see paranoia like that in person I suppose, unless I was just reading into things that were not there. But in the years that followed word spread that Bad Dragon was in general kind of a suspicious environment so I guess they had reason to be wary of me because I was a total stranger.
It was also during this trip that we made a few other stops, one of which being the visit to Narse’s giant house in Phoenix that I talked about in the journal I wrote about Athus. We also stopped by a house that was jointly rented by four people who I guess you’d classify as “B-list” in the grand scheme of furry popularity (not a slight I just don’t know how best to phrase it), Evalion being one of them as well as two other artists I definitely recognized but whose names I cannot remember now, and a fourth person that I’ve forgotten entirely. I guess I only bring it up to note that Varka just knows a lot of people. None of the interactions he had with these people seemed suspect or like he had ulterior motives, he was just really well networked. The people he introduced me to had responses that varied from “I don’t know who this Dracokon guy is” to “I’ve heard of you”, which I suppose in 2017 was still worth something as by that point my last well known work was six years ago and I’d basically checked out of the fandom writing new material entirely.
Varka and I goofed off a lot when I wasn’t working on things at his place. I recall on a few nights he had some other friends over, some of them being Bad Dragon employees and others just being people he knew that were local to the area. There was one evening where we had something of a tabletop gaming night and the star of the show was this complete-in-box copy of Bibleopoly I’d found at a Goodwill earlier that day. I wouldn’t say Varka is someone who emits an aura of seriousness wherever he goes, even if you know who he is. I believe he actually tries to stay out of the public eye, even when he was at his “most famous”, and would obfuscate himself at conventions with unremarkable hoodies that had those pullover masks built into them. That said, I think I saw him at his genuinely most relaxed when we were playing that game together and cracking jokes about the “First National Church of the Golden Corral”. He took lots of pictures of the game and tweeted some of them, the Golden Corral joke being one of the ones from his many tweets that night. Speaking of Twitter, if you go to Varka’s account and see his very last tweet before he vanished from the platform it was a post directed at me, responding to that video of the guys riding in the boat in the storm drain and one of them says “it do go down” (which was an inside joke he and I shared).
At the same Goodwill where I found the board game Varka stumbled upon a manual stenograph and became obsessed with it as a curiosity. He did that often from what I could gather, as there’s no other appropriate place to mention this in this journal but inside the guest bedroom of his house he had a museum quality life-size deinonychus statue hanging out. I shit you not, it was a foam rubber body mounted atop an aluminum pipe frame inner core and it looked like the ones you’d see at a traveling paleontology exhibit. I do not even know where you would go to buy something like that, but I guess like the paint mixer I mentioned earlier he just finds these things wherever and since money is no object to him (comparatively speaking) he just buys it. He did the same thing with the stenograph and that evening before the game party I took it apart and got it working for him again. He played with it for over an hour afterward pretending to be both a court reporter and a defense attorney asking me questions about fandom drama for this hot new cable TV show he just thought up: Furry Court. Where the cases are real, but it’s a kangaroo court anyways.
The memory I have of Varka that sticks out to me the most was when he went to use the bathroom connected to the master bedroom and managed to get stuck in that side of the house. The only way into that area was through the bedroom, the door to which he’d closed and locked since the connecting bathroom wasn’t sectioned off with a door of its own. Apparently, when he set the lock, the pins (or whatever) inside of it separated from the tumblers and jammed it meaning no amount of turning the lock would undo it and the lock was now permanently engaged. Varka’s house was a little weird in that it really did not have any windows whatsoever, so it’s not like he could just open a window and climb out of it. No, he was stuck in his bedroom and the hardware to remove the doorknob was on his side of the door… but all of the tools were on my side and were too large to slide underneath.
The only logical move was to literally kick the door down from inside the house. We destroyed that fucking door, and to this day I still laugh about the absurdity of it all. In the moment it was as funny as it was infuriating, and after we’d destroyed the door we went to Varka’s favorite standby The Home Depot at God knows what hour of the night to buy another door and install it, not realizing that we needed to measure the jamb for the hinges so we wound up getting a door whose inlays for the hinges didn’t match the frame and at that point we said “fuck it” and broke out a chisel and jerry-rigged the door to work for the time being.
None of these experiences seem to be particularly negative though, so I suppose you’re wondering what could’ve happened that turned me away from what seemed like a decent albeit slightly rocky relationship. It’s complicated, and I think a lot of it has to do with my own paranoia filling in otherwise mundane blanks with tightly spun tall tales that just “became true” to me. Of course I’d heard all the same rumors about Varka as you and everyone else, and that information was certainly at odds with my own firsthand experiences with the guy. The absence of absolute certainty doesn’t necessarily irrefutably demonstrate that the inverse is true.
Varka owned a lot of strange things that were difficult to explain. He had a large storage building on his property and inside of it, as in the building was put up around it, was a disconnected semi truck trailer. Inside of it was nothing illegal, but it was an assortment of strange things to own. Samples of common security tagging systems that prevent shoplifting as well as all the tools needed to circumvent them, an ammo reloading bench, and the master console for the security cameras I’d spotted hanging out around the property. Looking back at things I feel like the first two can be explained very easily by Varka getting hyperfixated on the idea of something for a fleeting period of time but still sinking a chunk of money into buying all the stuff to see if he liked doing it. Whether that be making ammunition or tinkering with security stuff (he considers himself a “maker” and I would agree with that label) is no difference. He didn’t own a single firearm though, which is what confused me about the ammo bench.
The cameras are a non-issue because it’s very common for people to have CCTV at their places especially if they own expensive things, but I guess the placement of “mission control” being inside of a truck trailer that was permanently parked inside of a larger building just seemed really odd to me? He also had some of the cameras pointed in weird places; usually you’d expect them to be at all the entrances and exits, and I guess maybe one in the garage where he had an expensive CNC mill and all that stuff, but I recall he had some pointed in areas that seemed “off” to me. Not bedrooms or anything, but places where there wasn’t anything of note. Perhaps he was future-proofing for something he wanted to put there later and the camera system just came first. I don’t know.
Aside from the Audi he drives Varka also owned a decommissioned ICE van, the kind you can round up six or eight people in and take them to jail or whatever. The vehicle was complete with its reinforced grating to protect the driver and the back was completely gutted save for a bench on either side. Varka said he bought it because he wanted to put giant speakers in it, and again looking back on things that’s believable to me because he has those two giant theater speakers in his living room that he built himself. Maybe he’s done that mod by now, I have no idea. But in the moment it was another one of those quirky things that just felt “off”.
There were some other little minor things but collectively they all just added up to a picture that ultimately I did not know how to read. I didn’t think Varka was up to anything non-kosher, but almost everybody else did. That disconnect ran rampant in my thoughts almost 24/7 during a time when I was out of my element and unwell emotionally. I mentioned in my diatribe about Herpy (further reading: The Misunderstood Tale of Herpy) that the one thing I was terrified of the most was how the only people who had access to any portion of that website was Varka and his server admins. If there was a sudden downturn they could literally just “invent” evidence of me or anyone else saying, doing, or endorsing really heinous things on Herpy by way of editing the database directly and bypassing the “message last edited by a moderator on XXXX” thing that normally appears on posts. I had it in my head that if I was the fall guy once already, it could happen again.
Eventually, I’d convinced myself that it was only a matter of time until this powder keg went off and Varka and everyone close to him got busted for [insert something awful here] and it would be in my best interest to get as far away from the scene as possible.
So I did. In 2018 I spoke to Varka for the last time in a phone call that lasted almost four hours. I don’t really know what, if anything, was accomplished in that phone call. I can’t really remember it as this was now firmly in the period of my life where most memories never made it to long-term storage (further reading: I Don’t Remember).
And that’s it. In the years that followed Varka has basically just vanished, and as far as I can tell there was never some big bombshell. No big reveal. No definitive exposé that proved beyond a shadow of a doubt that he did all the things he’d been rumored to be up to. The only real “smoking gun” that came about was when a former Herpy staff member was able to connect Varka to a long abandoned account on BeastForum, but even at the time this information was revealed it had already been 13+ years, and now it’s been well over 20. I do recall Varka having a heart-to-heart with me one night when he said he was “envious” of the way I was able to just be open about “certain things” referring specifically to how I’d been tagging my early works with “zoo” and whatnot, basically just inadvertently wearing that tag like a badge of honor or something. I’ve already kind of contextualized that period of my life on this blog but the gist of it is I’d been conditioned into producing that kind of stuff and by 2017/2018 I was very much aware of it and had long since distanced myself from it and delisted all of those posts.
But still, there was something about that perceived “freedom” that he said he wished he could have. Perhaps that was the reason he kept me around in his social circle. I always felt like I was kind of the odd man out whenever there was a handful of us out and about; everyone else Varka surrounded himself with were influential or very talented to some degree, but I was just some shmuck who trashed a potential writing career and turned out to be a complete burnout. I had a good sense of humor about the ordeal, but I felt like I didn’t belong. I don’t think it was some “dinner for schmucks” thing, he was genuinely a good person to me, but ultimately I was a different breed.
But as I said a few paragraphs ago, the absence of absolute certainty doesn’t necessarily imply the inverse is true. You never really know someone, that’s a lesson I learned multiple times over and in many different ways in my time with the furry community. It wasn’t something I felt I could take a chance on. I had these paranoid delusions of online stalkers latching onto everyone to enact some twisted sense of justice and that involved people coming to my house hurting me. Yes, that is genuine insanity, and I acknowledge today with the clarity of hindsight that I wasn’t exactly acting like myself back then. I adopted some very destructive tendencies and since these journals are all written out of order you already know that by the time the 2020’s rolled around I’d be in much worse shape and wind up spending some time in a hospital.
Varka is but a microcosm of a protracted downward emotional spiral in my life, a relationship that I destroyed because I kept seeing shadowy figures out of the corners of my eyes. I did to him what I did to countless other people that I once called my friend, and on the whole I regret it. But I also acknowledge that there’s really no going back from here. It’s probably for the best.
Varka believes himself to be the reincarnated spirit of a dragon. His friends believe him to be the life of the party. The furry fandom at one point believed him to be Public Enemy #1.
Really though, he’s none of those things. He is, just as the title of this journal states, human after all. And I suppose so am I.
Until next time.
