After Adria had managed to save her vegetable casserole (which she had no trouble eating despite being a carnivore species, oddly), the two of you sat down to eat. And, being your first time actually trying Adrian, er, Adria’s cooking, you finally got a confirmation that it tasted as good as it had smelled.
You felt tempted to spruce up the plain, cheap furniture that sat in your apartment, but you figured you’d have more time for that later. If you wanted to go out and change people, it’d be better to do it while you still have some daylight.
Too bad you hadn’t made it big as a furry artist yet. If you were, you could have people lining up to pay you to do this to them.
Then you remembered that would probably mean actually giving the person the canvas, assuming their ‘portrait’ didn’t slide off the surface when they moved to the other side to look at it. And it wasn’t like they’d remember you changing them. Bummer, that would have been living the dream.
You step out of your apartment, carrying the canvas in your hand, and some art supplies in your backpack. You’re glad you’ve been at this long enough to be able to paint in decent detail quickly. Most people probably weren’t gonna stick around for a full hour just for a stranger to paint their portrait.
“Oh, Jeff, you’re not leaving to paint more beauties without me, are you?” Adria says, following you out the front door, and closing it behind her, no longer wearing the apron, or any sort of clothing whatsoever. Not that you object to the view.
“I hadn’t really thought to ask,” you said.
She frowned, briefly, then straightened up again. “Oh, of course you wouldn’t think of it, you’ve only known me like this for twenty minutes! I shouldn’t feel hurt by it.”
“...Right,” you said, just nodding along. “Also, I kinda thought that if nobody but me remembers the changes I make, you wouldn’t really have anything to see, would you?”
“Oh, phooey.that IS a problem.” She paused. “But… you told me you could see me painted on the Canvas when I was behind it. So at least I’ll be able to see your art, and know which people are your handiwork.”
You shrug. “Sure, come on.” You couldn’t really think of a good reason for her to stay put, and again, you enjoyed the view.
After a short elevator trip down, you pass by the front desk on your way to the door. Before you can step outside, however, there is a distinct and unpleasantly familiar sound of an old woman clearing her throat.
“So, Mr. McAlistor,” your landlord, Mrs. Flynch, starts. “I don’t suppose you have this month’s payment ready, do you?” Her wrinkled face looks even more so with her lips turned down more than you were sure was humanly possible, her square glasses giving you an even clearer look at her eyes narrowing on you.
You find yourself fidgeting. “I just gave you my payment.”
“That was payment for the last two months. I’ve been more than generous about this, Mr. McAlistor, and-”
“Ah, just give me a minute, okay?” You stammer, setting up the stretcher bar to get a good angle on her. “Would you like me to paint a portrait of you?”
She rolled her eyes. “Are you an artist famous enough for that painting to cover this month’s rent?”
You were getting so tired of dealing with this greedy horder. Perhaps you’d have a way to improve her attitude a little, as well. “J-just humor me for a second, okay?”
“Mr. Alistor-”
“I’ll pay what he owes, and some more, if you do,” Adria said, pulling a wad of cash out of her bosom.
“...Fine, just make it quick, I don’t have all day.”
You wondered to yourself if she ever left that chair, but internally thanked Adria for buying you a little time. You pull out your paint, choosing a nice purple shade, and quickly set to work improving her. Adria stands behind you, watching with interest. You couldn’t remember the last time you had someone do that without mocking you.
You start by painting over Mrs. Flynch’s upper body, the portion of it you can see over the desk, anyway. Her old blue shirt and red vest both vanish behind a heavy pair of purple, spherical boobs, resting comfortably on her desk, with little v and u shapes all over them to imply a scaly texture. Her arms were quickly painted over in the same colors, the baggy, wrinkled skin replaced by smooth, taught scales. Her painted fingernails were replaced with earthy-brown claws, finely manicured.
Her face was covered next, not by a new face, but a long, purple neck. When a face was added to the top, a scaled, pointed, reptilian snout with fangs in a and forked tongue poking out even when closed taking the place of her old dentures and large nose. Fin-like fans were painted over her ears. Her blue eyes were given slit pupils, but for the fun of it, he left the glasses in place, and drew out her curled white hair into a long, flowing white mane. She wore a sly grin in her new sketch.
Next, of course, where a pair of white, bat-like wings, stretching out from her shoulders, not big enough to fly under anything but toon physics, especially with her new figure, but they were large enough to give a hug with. Followed by the tip of a thick, purple, spade-tipped tail poking up from behind the desk. And for another little bit of personal commentary on what you thought of her, you draw a pile of gold and jewels stacked up behind her.
Putting the spreader aside to view your new creation, (watching the paint slide off the edge and into nothingness when Mrs. Flynch is no longer ‘in-frame,’) you see the new dragon toon in all her splendor. She shuffles around her desk slightly, letting you see that the changes go past what you had painted from the area visible through the canvas. Nice to know you don’t have to get everything if you can’t see everything, at least.
“Thanks, Mrs. Flynch,” you say. “Well, it was nice seeing you, as always, but we’ve got places to be, so…” You make a move toward the door, but Mrs. Flynch’s snorting interrupts something. Turning around you see smoke curling from her nostrils.
“You don’t think you’re going to walk out without paying me, do you?”
“Right,” Adria steps in front of you. “How silly of me. Here you go.” She tosses the wad of cash to the dragoness, who begins counting the bills off eagerly. Guess not everything you paint will be happy to do whatever you like unless you make a point of implying that through your drawing. Then again, making her a dragon probably didn’t help with her greedy tendencies… What had you been thinking? Maybe you could fix that later.
“Thanks for the Save, Adria,” you whisper, as the two of you head out the door, looking for more buxom-babes-to-be.