Change of Scenery
"So let me get this straight. You are a bookworm
who works part time as a spy employed by a white plushie off to investigate
illegal pet smuggling in the middle of an uninhabited jungle."
"Right."
"Oooooookay. Give us another swig of
that Neocola, will ya?"
Breaking the news to Jen, Angel's owner,
hadn't been an easy job. She was sarcastic by nature and wouldn't believe a
word of it until Angel had shown her the files and locket. Even now, on the
way to the jungle ranch, she was having a hard time believing her.
Jen tilted her head back and drank the
majority of the can in one gulp. The coach trundled along the road to the harbour,
hit a bump and caused her to splash Neocola all over her auburn brown hair and
down her top. She snorted and went cross-eyed. Angel laughed. Jen may be a little
quiet, shy, maybe even antisocial at times, but she had one heck of a sense
of humour.
"So have you told Twist about it yet?"
"Had to. She wouldn't look after ~The*Eyrie*Oak~
if I didn't. Y'know I'm gonna get ribbed for this for the rest of my life."
Jen smiled and patted her shoulder. "I'm
sure she won't be too hard on ya. You deserve a break in life more than anyone.
And she's one things in life that she isn't proud of, and I doubt she would
want attention brought to it."
"I don't blame her for that. What's
done is done. Besides, if she hadn't not stood up for me in the Acara Den, I
would never have left and found you, or have been discovered by the NSPA."
"True," came the reply, as Jen sifted
through the piles of legal papers. Angel smiled at her. They both would have
rather referred to themselves as 'best friends' rather than 'pet and owner';
but they certainly didn't want to seem any more unusual than they already were.
Angel herself looked hardly like the normal Eyrie at a second glance. Her paws
were out of proportion with her body and she was nearly always tripping over
something and drawing attention to herself. Her wings were beautiful though.
It wasn't noticeable unless you were really close to her, but Angel had silver-tipped
wings that glittered softly in the subtle light of the coach, and were still
fluffy and adorned with cubbish character. Since not many people or Neopets
noticed this, only her small family and indeed herself more than any other worried
that this was not normal.
Jen, on the other hand, rarely ventured
rarely out of the forest. The forest was her love. Her life. She pained at leaving
it even to travel to Neopia Central for a day. As a person she was, well, unique.
Tall and shy, Angel respected her owner as a girl with a rare kind of timid
amiability. She wore a green tunic with flared trousers (she used these to cover
her Size 8 feet, which she referred to as Sasquatch 1 and Sasquatch 2) with
a dull yellow belt. Her hair was worn down, allowing it to shimmer a spectrum
of colours - brown, ginger, black and blonde - and was styled just to cover
her pointed ears. Thus she sat in The Hollow Glen, playing her flute and enjoying
the solitude of the forest. Sometimes people called her an elf. But she assured
the reservedly that there was no such thing as elves…
And this is without mentioning Angel's
insane sister Twist, a tubby Wocky-tailed furball who liked prancing around
and singing in a jester's hat. I believe this justifies them not going out much.
Angel played with her locket, bored.
"It was so nice of them to fix my locket, Jen. And Angle said before I went
that they might give me a new position! Isn't that cool? Jen?"
Angel turned to see the expression on Jen's face. Her eyes were wide, unblinking;
her mouth hung open slightly in a conflicting expression of both shock and ecstatic
joy as she scanned over the document. "That's not all they've given you."
Suddenly she grabbed Angel's wing and
ran from the coach, dragging the stunned Eyriess with her. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"
yelled Angel. "We're nowhere near the harbour."
"Just wait and see!" she replied, storming
towards an oval of shops.
***
Jen and Angel walked side by side into the Rainbow Pool entrance. Jen grinned
as she told her friend what she had discovered.
"The NSPA have reserved you a brand
new paintbrush. They've been working on some new paintbrushes for a while now,
and they have just released them today. It says here that this new coat will
not only improve your appearance, but will also make you sleeker and more streamline.
I guess they figured your… er… sense of balance wasn't quite central, eh?!"
"There's no use pretending, Jen," sighed
Angel, "I know I'm a complete klutz… That's fantastic news! Gosh. A new coat.
Twist'll be so jealous!"
They approached the painting rooms swiftly,
where they were greeted by an impressive-looking Draik in a tux.
"And how may Madam be wanting to be
served today?
Angel ruffled her feathers. "Mademoiselle
would like to see 'Monsieur Plumedragon', s'il vous plaît."
"Speaking."
Jen looked at the sheet of paper again
and calmly said "Lightbulb-Jacket-Shoebox" as if it wasn't anything out of the
ordinary.
Angel gave her a funny look. "What?"
"Codeword."
"Oh."
Monsieur Plumedragon became suddenly
very uncomfortable and shifted his weight from foot to foot. "But of course.
Right ziss way, Mademoiselles Jen and Angel."
They made their way down a long and winding
corridor, which seemed to stop at a dead end. Monsieur Plumedragon looked around
cautiously, then lifted the handle on a fire extinguisher. There was a bass
rumbling noise and a hidden panel opened up in the wall.
"Innovative," muttered Jen sarcastically.
The feeling of awe was quite overwhelming
as they entered the hidden cavern. There was no artificial light - just a glow
that radiated from the central Painting Pool, turning the ceiling into a kaleidoscope
of colour. The air was icy and fresh, mountain crisp. At the far end of the
cavern was a glass cabinet protected by a complex laserbeam security system.
Angel's eyes grew wide as she saw its contents. Two beautiful paintbrushes;
one bluey and one fire, with glistening golden handles.
"Are they them?"
"Oui, Mademoiselle. Our new models are
fire and electric." He showed Angel a photo of a newly-painted Fire Eyriess.
"Wow," she gasped, "would I look like
that after being painted fire?"
"Oui oui. Our other model iz… comme-ci
comme-ça. A little cheaper maybe."
"Hmmmm…" Her eyes kept darting towards
the bluey brush. "Do you have a photo?"
"Non." Monsieur Plumedragon was persistent
that they bought the other model. "This iz the Electric brush that was updated
not too long ago. The only photos we have are of the older version. I am not
sure it iz to your liking." He sneered. "But there iz good news, Mesdemoiselles!
The NSPA has entered you for a discount for zees paintbrushes!"
Jen perked up suddenly. They weren't
very rich, and she was conscious of getting Angel's hopes up just in case they
couldn't afford the brush. "Brilliant! How much?"
Monsieur Plumedragon cleared his throat
and handed her the receipt. Her face dropped like a lead weight. 90,000 NP for
the Fire Paintbrush, and 50,000 NP for the Electric one. They absolutely could
not afford the fire brush, which Angel was currently admiring. She took her
aside.
"Have you made your decision yet, Angel?"
"Aye. I think. Ah'm curious about the
Electric Paintbrush, but I've never seen the updated version, so it might turn
out bad. And I never really liked the old one - it was ugly. If I take the fire
one I'll be playing it safe, and it is so pretty…"
Jen sighed solemnly. "I was hoping you
weren't gonna say that. Listen, the Fire Paintbrush is gonna cost us 90,000
NP…"
"Yikes."
"… and I was planning on buying Twist
a checkered brush for an Easter prezzy since you're getting painted. Altogether
that'll cost 70,000 NP. The Fire Paintbrush alone will cost 20,000 NP more. I
know there's a risk with the Electric one, and the Fire one is so nice, but
I'll leave the choice up to you." Angel opened her beak as if to say something,
but fell silent. She could read between the lines. She knew Jen well enough
to know what she really meant - if she got the Fire Paintbrush, they wouldn't
just be one brush short. They'd be skint. Penniless. Neopointless. Poor. She
looked at the two brushes. Fire. She felt like it had happened before. Déja-Vu.
A beautiful colour, but so expensive. Popular, yes, but would it make her as
unique? If she got the brush she would be acting selfish. Twist wouldn't get
her own colour. Jen would be totally broke.
Electric. On one hand it held many risks
in appearance, not being aware of how the colour would turn out. But it was
cheaper. And if she got it, Twist would be able to have her own brush, and Jen
wouldn't be skint … or would be at least less skint as she originally thought.
There was something else though. Something new and exciting, drawing Angel towards
the brush. It felt right. She padded over towards the brushes and allowed her
paw to hover between the two. The left-hand side of her paw where the Fire Paintbrush
sat started to burn and singe her fur. She squeaked and pulled her paw back.
"It's hot."
"Strange," muttered Monsieur Plumedragon,
"They should not be hot to-the-touch."
Angel was not one to question fate. If
anything was that unusual, it just wasn't meant to be usual at all. It was a
sign. She scowled and gripped the handle of the Electric Paintbrush.
"If this turns out to be the biggest
mistake of my life, I'm blaming Twist."
***
Monsieur Plumedragon seemed a little disgruntled after failing to sell the
90,000 NP paintbrush, but shrugged it off, smiled and said, "Right this way,
Mademoiselle."
He led Angel to some steps by the side
of the Rainbow Pool.
"What're you doing? Do I have to sit
in this stuff? It'll soak my feathers!"
"But of course you must! Do not worry
yourself, for it iz not wet. You will not come out looking like a … how-you-say
… drowned rat!" He laughed in a snobbish manner and indicated for her to climb
the stairs.
Angel slumped down in the thick, slippery
stuff. He was right. Not wet. A bit like sitting in a tub full of warm foam.
She allowed her muscles to relax as the blissful feeling started to creep around
her joints.
"That iz it. Just relax. And don't get
scared when you start to feel a tingly sensation - that iz just the paintbrush
going to work."
Angel nodded in luxury, barely opening
her eyes to notice Monsieur Plumedragon take the paintbrush to the water… and
watch it dissolve in his hand. He jumped back, startled, as the decomposing
brush made the water swirl and change colour.
Just then, Angel realised what the Draik
meant by 'a tingly sensation'. It was patent - her entire body seemed to warm,
like the feeling you get when you drink hot tea on a cold Winter's day. She
felt herself lengthen out, becoming less cubbish now. Her wings changed shape.
Feathers bound and realigned, moulding into a shape that resembles a hawk more
than a pigeon. The warmth spread along her body, tensing her fur and etching
exuberant patterns across her skin.
Jen had her jaw dropped. Plumedragon
stood staring for a moment, then clapped his claws vigorously, exclaiming, "Bravo!
Magnifique! A wonderful show, Mademoiselle!"
"Wonderful, Angel. Really!"
"So? So? How do I look?" squealed Angel,
clambering clumsily out of the pool.
She ran towards the Draik, who was tugging
at a sheet, unveiling a large golden mirror. Angel's paws scattered across the
floor… and she stopped quite suddenly in front of the mirror. The transformation
was amazing. No longer was she the cubbish, immature little Eyrie she was this
morning, but she seemed older and sleeker. She spread her wings to check them.
Feathers were as soft as ever, but flatter, pointed and aerodynamic. And luckily
the silver tips were still there. She twisted round to check herself over, allowing
a little room for vanity… and tripped over her feet. Drat. They were the same
size as before. Someone above was playing a really mean trick on her.
Sitting in a heap on the floor with her
back to the mirror, Angel shook her head and grinned at the Neopet and human
who were laughing inanely at her. She lifted her head, and suddenly Jen's expression
sobered.
Angel cocked her head. "What? What's wrong?"
The girl muttered something to Plumedragon,
who answered brashly, "No, mademoiselle, now that you mention it. That iz not
normal for ziss style of paintbrush."
"What's not normal? Tell me please!"
Jen sighed and, reaching into her bag,
brought out a pair of purple glasses. Angel took them graciously and squinted
through them curiously.
It was a very minor detail, yet I'm not
sure even Angel herself knew how significant the mark was to the future. Across
her forehead - from a point between her eyes all the way across her forehead
and down the back of her neck - ran a spear-shaped stripe of aquamarine colour,
as opposed to the normal duel lightning bolt that most Electric Eyries inherit.
Angel shrugged it off. "It's nothing.
Just a flaw. I don't care."
"Are you sure, mademoiselle?"
"Yes. Now can we go? This place is starting
to creep me out."
To be continued... | 
