November Reed
"My face looks a little... big."
Nova scoffed internally and continued finishing up the drawing that she was working on of some paying customer. She resisted the urge to remark, "Because it is big," and merely focused on the sketch.
To be fair, comments like that aren't... entirely unsurprising to Nova. Working as an artist in a marketplace, she basically did whatever got her paid. Sometimes she drew cartoon art. Sometimes she drew realistic. Sometimes people paid her to not even... draw them but rather something else.
Hell, her favorite opportunity was when some teenager paid her to draw him in the palace. She... went above and beyond with that one, however. He didn't... specify anything, so she drew him dangling off the side of the palace wall, clasping onto the brick with his hands.
In hindsight, she probably should have just done something normal, like him sitting on the throne. But it was too good.
Besides, the teenager got a kick out of it and enjoyed it in the end.
It was things like that which made her job a little less... dull. Not that Nova didn't love her job as an artist. Not many people can actually go around and say that they get to do what they love as a career. She just didn't like that she wasn't given much creative freedom, since people told her what to draw.
That, and she was barely paid shit as it was. The only reason she's likely able to continue doing this is simply because her father manages the marketplace stand right next to her. His isn't nearly as entertaining or creative as Nova's.
Her father, Dylan, sells... fish.
It's really quite boring actually. Sure, he gets plenty of more money for it. People are willing to pay to eat seafood but they aren't willing to pay for a priceless piece of art that will last forever.
Though, Nova might just be a smidge biased.
Besides, she's scolded herself plenty that she's not going to hold it against her father. After all, he's the one that keeps her afloat.
"That'll be twenty five euros."
The customer put a smile on her face, that looked a bit forced, but paid Nova for the drawing. Nova smiled and said her thanks to the woman as she left. It was obvious to Nova that the woman wasn't happy that her face was that large in the drawing. But Nova wasn't going to start over a whole drawing because the woman didn't like her face being that big.
Even though her face is that big.
Nova would be happy to start over if the woman was willing to pay again. Otherwise, she wasn't going to do it. This was a business - her livelihood. Nova didn't have time to do free drawings and dawdle around.
Hell, Nova even timed it. She needed to do one drawing in about twenty minutes. If she spent any more time doing that, she'd likely miss out on customers who would be interested in a drawing for themselves.
Therefore, she had twenty minutes to draw - and she was pretty good at it, too.
Nova figured that one of the primary reasons people ended up stopping by her tent at the marketplace for drawings was not only for her drawings but also because, well, they didn't have to hover around while she was drawing. Having a photogenic memory made that real easy. As long as Nova was able to study their face for approximately one minute, they are more than welcome to leave and wander around for roughly twenty minutes to return for the drawing.
After her first few times of doing this, Nova figured out a flaw. If they didn't return for the drawing, she just wasted her time and lost out on money. Now, if they decide that they want to leave, they have to pay half price for the drawing first.
Just... a bit of down payment so Nova doesn't have to worry too much if they decide to flee and not pick up the drawing.
Not that everyone leaves. Some people like to hover around and make little suggestions or additions to Nova's drawings.
Those people are Nova's least favorite customers.
If they wanted to stand around and watch her draw, fine. But for the love of God stop trying to make suggestions to her like she doesn't know art. There's a reason she is the one drawing and they aren't.
People.
Nova exhaled and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temple as the woman left. Though having customers here was surefire payment, not having customers here was also a bit nice. She was able to watch people stroll through the middle of the open marketplace to shop. Some people with a mission on what they want to buy and some people who are aimlessly wandering. Nova's customers usually consist of the aimless.
However, when she doesn't have customers, Nova actually spends her time painting. Not necessary people or things, but just general pretty sceneries. Sometimes landscape and sometimes flowers, since flowers are adored by this country. Then, with these paintings, she sets them out for display with a price tag.
It's for the customers who want something but are too impatient to wait around for her to draw something for them.
Considering the fact Nova currently had no customers, both that she had to draw nor looking at paintings in the store, she turned her attention to painting. At the moment, the woman was painting a field of tulips. Tulips, being known in this country as a romantic gesture as a whole, typically quickly get bought.
...So she paints tulips.
A lot.
Nova dipped the tip of her paintbrush into a light green and held it in the air. She wiggled her paintbrush around for a moment in thought, biting her lip in concentration. It was while she was thinking that her father called out her name from the neighboring marketplace.
"November!"
Nova scowled hearing her full name. She flicked her paintbrush down towards the ground, paint splattering on the floor and on her clothes. That wasn't entirely a surprise. Majority of Nova's clothes tended to have paint all over them. If it didn't, that was rare.
"What?" Nova said, tossing her arm in the air. What she hadn't expected was for her paintbrush to slip from her grasp and go flying through the air, out from her fingertips, and smack someone in the chest.
She knew that she smacked them in the chest, since his outfit now had a nice, green blob in the middle of his torso.
"Oh my God," Nova said quickly. She rushed around to the other side of the table, around her paintings for sale, and over to the man. "I am so sorry." She exclaimed, leaning down to pick up the paintbrush. "It slipped from my fingers."
"...Slipped." The man repeated, likely with some disbelief. Which... was understandable. It would have probably been more believable if she said that she chucked the paintbrush, given how far it flew.
"Come inside," Nova quickly said. "I can wipe it off for you, before the paint dries hopefully."
Nova decided to leave out the part where the paint... wasn't washable.
Except, it was as she was grabbing his sleeve that she noticed the royal crest on his jacket. Which... either meant he was related to the royal family or he worked for the royal family.
Either way, Nova felt like she was in royal deep shit, now.