Pooftail the Chichi
The Custom Sun Neela
Age: 4 years, 1 month, 2 weeks
Born: December 1st, 2015
Adopted: 4 years, 1 month, 2 weeks ago
Adopted: December 1st, 2015
- Level: 98
- Strength: 177
- Defense: 50
- Speed: 10
- Health: 10
- HP: 10/10
- Intelligence: 692
- Books Read: 679
- Food Eaten: 0
- Job: Couture Designer
Her clients were the elite of Subetan society. Even so, if she took every commission request slipped in her Centropolis mailbox, Autumn would never have time to paint anything else.
Lady Lorelai Velvetpaw was a third cousin to the Element Mage, a dawn chai who could easily afford the most expensive perfumes in the Grooming Parlor with the several million coins she added to her vault each year. She had a pleasantly plump face and a multitude of jewels that caused light to dance across the paintings on the walls with every little twitch of her head and or wave of her paw.
"So I said to Mr. Otterkins...you know, that pesky ontra who claims to have kinship to Alexander...anyway, I said to him that a true connoisseur of great seafood must surely know the work of Karlos, the tutani chef from Omen Islands. You wouldn't believe it my dear, but the fellow hasn't even completed his map yet. He had to have a friend with access make all his purchases. Doesn't that just make your fur curl?"
Autumn forced a smile as she once again stepped back from the canvas. She would not risk a stroke that would force her to scrub out an entire section of the painting. "Miss Velvetpaw, please sit still. I would hate to give you a cucumber nose."
Lorelai unleashed a hearty laugh. "You could hardly do harm to this old honker. What I wouldn't give to have a cute little button like yours. Speaking of buttons, did you hear about that misplaced shipment at Thimble & Co? Quite the scandal, I tell you. I hear the Hustler is still sneaking the occasional set of nostalgic instructions into the hands of rogues who sell the toy kits for five times their going price. What a rogue that terracoon is!"
Lorelai's purse burst open as her purrvocateur Missy finally tired of confinement. Autumn did not bother to shoot a look at Pooftail. The Chichi was not like most of his kind, ready to give chase to felines of any type.
In her household, Missy was the queen of the minions. She would not let her demand for a playmate go unanswered. She gave Pooftail a nip on the ear, hissing and taunting him by staying just out of reach as he finally gave chase.
Lorelai was on her feet in an instant. "Oh, my baby! Call off your animal, Moon! My darling can't stand so much excitement."
A single whistle brought Pooftail trotting over to her side. Autumn stared at the half-finished portrait, taking the time to count to ten. Lorelai was impatient and constantly late for appointments. Her minion had managed to destroy a full easel and several pots of paint despite Autumn's request that she be left at home. The distinguished lady had all the qualities that made Autumn want to set her portrait aflame.
She had not earned her reputation for quality work by becoming one of those artists that lives for drama. As Lorelai stroked the wailing Missy's fur, Autumn resumed her place before the canvas.
"I have a new idea, Miss Velvetpaw. What if you held Missy in your lap for the portrait?"
Lorelai's attention was fully captured. "Darling, that's a marvelous suggestion. Of course I want my baby with me when all our friends come to see the debut of my portrait.
The task of holding Missy in her lap forced Lorelai to slow her rate of chatter, allowing Autumn to finish the last sketch details of the chai's face along with a rough sketch of the sour-faced feline. She showed Lorelai to the door with a smile, promising that only one more sitting would be required, a chance for her to capture the proper color tones for the final portrait.
Pooftail breathed a long sigh of relief when the pair was gone. Autumn carefully settled her sketching tools in their proper compartments, her feelings perfectly mimicking his as usual.
Day was for art that put bread on the table but it was in the evening that her muse truly awoke to produce the masterpieces that had given her a permanent wall in the Delphi Modern Museum of Art. Those pieces she personally deemed her best were never taken from the walls of her private collection.
Her cabin on the lake contained a small studio where her very best works were kept on permanent display. This was not a place for public viewing, but a sanctuary seen by only her dearest friends on special occasions. She had never once listened to a misinformed critic or had a ridiculous offer from some shark on the hunt for a bargain.
Landscapes had fascinated her from the moment she took her first shaky steps on new hooves. She could stand and stare out at the pasture for hours, trying to put a name to every color from the rich lawn green of grass on the hillside to the subtle ring of violet that always crested the marvel of a rising sun just before warmer colors dominated the scene.
She'd painted the dunes of the Sacred Lands and snowy little cabins in Arctic Frost. She'd captured the steamy warmth of Centropolis at high noon and her paintings of Veta Lake were hanging in offices all over Subeta, used to calm those clients awaiting the handshake of some mortiking banker in a business suit. There is not a landscape she had not dared to try. Even Darkside's sultry red haze had known the attention of her brush.
She has no difficulty trying new things, yet one is often inspired by the tiniest details in a familiar setting. She carefully rounded the petals of a little blue blossom she'd found growing beneath the great oak in her yard. In just three hours, a few random lines were a perfect little bloom in rich shades of blue.
Pooftail settled into his padded bed with a sigh of contentment as Autumn filled her palette for the finer detail work that would occupy her full attention well into the night.
Her penthouse in Centropolis was a model for modernity. The furniture was sleek and edgy, with chairs in brilliant shades of red to contrast a galactic table swirled with golden stripes and plastered with stars. The music system was state-of-the-art, giving her guests thousands of songs with the swipe of a paw. It was no wonder her friends never declined an invitation to one of Autumn's parties.
She loved to be their hostess, seeing to it that every guest had something tasty to nibble and that no one was left out of the conversation for long.
Her friends were constantly telling her that she could sell a bowl of water to a torrent living in the ocean. She laughed away their jokes but did not try to be modest. When she approached an investor, paintings sold and the size of her bank vault was sure to grow.
She never told even her intimate circle of friends how dearly she desired an invite to gatherings of the elite. She wanted so badly to be welcomed to the loft of Saggitarius or to dine at the Cherrywood table of Esmerelda. She wanted to be the Subetan artist whose work was so loved that she earned herself an entry in Subetapedia.
For now she would have to settle for a fat bank account and lavish compliments on the golden chains she wore around her horns.
An artist's sanctuary can also be their prison when the monster of perfection rears its ugly head. On most paintings, Autumn worked as a force of art as fierce as any force of nature. She could capture the least detail without pausing for longer than it took to dip her brush.
This was not so on the night of the new moon. The painting before her was one she'd agonized over for weeks, a landscape in which she hoped to capture the rural beauty of an old barn with a rusted metal roof and a whole brood of silkies dominating the yard. Every time she nearly perfected the softness of their feathers she would discover with great unhappiness that the light of the sun on the barn roof was too strong or the grass trying to grow over the old tire was not quite tall enough to hide the ugly metal rim.
It was good, right up there with her best works. It simply wasn't perfect. She went to bed with swatches of color and brush sizes keeping her tossing and turning until her mind simply shut down for the night.
She didn't usually spend the night in her cabin but she simply hadn't felt like making the drive to Centropolis and there were no gallery exhibitions or even private showings on her schedule until Friday. It was rather nice to sit on the front porch and sip her coffee as she listened to the birds singing overhead. Pooftail came to join her, gladly sharing the cream cheese pastry she'd purchased for a breakfast treat.
He ran ahead of her, pulling the cloth from her master painting with his little tail wagging madly. He had placed the frame in the night, a marvelous square of oak that perfectly complimented the golden beams of light that changed white silkie feathers to pale yellow.
Autumn groaned over what he had done. There was no going back to a painting that was framed. She would have to accept the imperfections of a little too much metal tire rim and a single crooked line on the roof tin now.
She could not truly be angry with Pooftail. Her minion knew her far too well, enough to know when an obsession had gone on for too long. Some of her best sales had come from her minion's impatience.
She scratched him behind the ears in just the right place as she let that little piece of her heart dedicated to a flawless painting go dark for Silkie Farmyard.
Extra Code by:
Tashamon & Shantal
Edited by: Chrysariel
Story by Pureflower
Overlay by: Subeta
Overlay Reworked by: Chrysariel
Framed Background and Small Frames by:
Fan of the World
Gold Swirl Frame by: White House 51
Background by: SpaceHero
Various Autumn Leaves by:
Free Fall Leaves Clip Art
Name Art by: Chrysariel
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