Fiadh’s apartment
Fiadh paced her apartment, trying to calm her restless mind. She made rounds around her hoard, offering occasional glances to take it all in. She has amassed a humble fortune, not much but it was more than she ever owned in her life before. True to the fey’s word, she has been led to many things. Many pretty, tantalizing, intoxicating things. It is euphoric, to look at, to know it is hers and hers alone, maybe a little from causing envy in others. Whether one might seek the beauty of the jewels and art, the value of the gold, or the knowledge in the books, tomes, and grimoires. She had something most people would want, and knowing that gave her a tingly sensation. But it did not satisfy her, it never did. There was always that voice, a whisper at first, that has since then begun to chant.
More. More. I must have more.She had no mirrors, vanity was not her vice, but the glittering gold provided enough of a reflection for introspection. She never saw herself, but what she would be. What she is. Gone were her dark red hair with a slight curl, her fair complexion, her smile, thin build, and other features that would attract the right, and sometimes wrong, kind of attention. Replaced by scales, horns, grimace, and eyes that betrayed a constant lust for more. Day by day, her future became more and more appealing than her ‘weak and pathetic’ human form, a thought that terrified her. She is even calling it the human form, as if she wasn’t human. Maybe…maybe she isn’t anymore.
“When will it be enough?” Fiadh asked to an empty room.
“I just need to fill this void with another diamond, maybe two.” She replied to herself.
“It’s always just a little more though…isn’t it.”
“It has to end at some point though, right? Eventually this obsession will be satisfied.” “Maybe a few more books….and some more gold, that’s gotta do it. Or…maybe…The Carlyle Museum has one of a kind artifacts…” Fiadh’s conversation with herself was interrupted as she began to feel a familiar and hated sensation. She gave in, again.
It starts with sensation, her flesh is numbing like when you rest on your arm to long, and quickly shifts to pain. She has dealt with the transformation many times, not enough to get sued to it, but enough where she is not crippled by the pain anymore, just exhausted. She acted quickly to strip down, her human clothes were not made to fit this other physiology, and she hates to have to buy more when she can avoid it.
Over the next minute or so, her body began to visibly transform, flesh was split revealing glittering scales, the nubs on her back and tailbone began to expand and lengthen, forming wings and a tail, her legs and feet twisted into something less human and more befitting of a dragon, she also gained enough body mass to put on a few feet of height. Her least favorite part was the head, suffering perhaps the greatest transformation of any part, with her hair shedding along with her skin, the skull reshaped almost entirely to support a lengthy snout, her eyes shifted from oval pupils to reptilian slits. By the end of it, she was an amalgam of human and dragon. Human enough to not be entirely monstrous, but her silhouette was definitely not human. And luckily this form can get away with not wearing clothes and not violate public decency laws. Otherwise, the time and money spent finding a discreet tailor would be annoying.
Fiadh took stock of the situation. A mess on the floor, some blood and viscera being the only evidence of her transformation, which she will need to clean up. Boots, Jacket, jeans, good. But not the gloves or underwear, damn. Too ripped up to wear.
“Great… another pair ruined. Way to go.” Fiadh hissed to herself, her words forming visibly as a green haze that was expelled from her mouth. Luckily, she could not poison herself.
I’ll worry about it later. Need to get to museum and claim…no, just view, something new. Get my mind off this. Distract myself. Fiadh was thinking, trying to ignore her covetous desire. Maybe going to the place with a lot of stuff she very much would like to own is not the best idea, but no one said she ever thought things through. Or at all.
Now, to go to…. Fuck, can’t use the door. Shoulda done the dragon thing outside. Fiadh said, looking dawn at herself, she broke a few things before and she hates having to pay for replacements. Oddly the though of someone who is trying to hide their curse walking out of their apartment and potentially reveling themselves to their neighbor, nor the thought of awkwardly walking through a hall and down stairs made for someone a few heads shorter than she is now, was not something she was concerned about like you’d think, it was the thought of having to spend money that was her concern.
I really need to be looking for a new place with more space, before my collection or I get too big… Fiadh looked around and settled on the window, it might get scratched, but a scratched window still opens and closes fine unlike a crushed door handle. Carfully she opened it and crawled outside, digging into the side of her apartment before carefully shutting the window. She stretched her wings out, to get a feel for them, before furling them back in a resting position. Fiadh was not confident enough in her ability to fly, not yet, but she can glide. Deciding on her path, she climbed up her apartment to get to the roof. From there she can glide from building to building and climb up where needed. A much quicker way to cover the distance than by…paw. Or would it still be foot? Can she change the phrase to fit her situation? Either way, she will get to the museum expeditiously.
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