These tales are not in any particular universe, nor meant to be read all that deeply. I occasionally get really random ideas in my head, and need to get them out of the way so that I can do my actual writing. Some eventually clump together enough to make story chapters or full oneshots. Others... well, those are going to end up like this.
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The Tattoo
It was getting late, my parlor was empty of other artists and clients. The only sound was the buzz of my own tattoo pen laying down a pattern in blue. Even the music was off. The recipient was a woman in her mid-20s, someone who might have been pretty if her life had taken a different turn. Her skin was pale, but not precisely in an attractive way. The look of someone who needed more sun and less drudgery. Her dirty blonde hair was lank and a bit greasy from lack of care, her back stooped, her eyes a muddy kind of brown, her frame simultaneously malnourished but flabby. Which was why she was here, naked, getting a tattoo over her womb, a moderately stereotypical heart design. I paused, nearly complete, and she looked down her body at me.
"Why'd ya stop?"
"It's almost done. Last chance for you to back out." I was also making sure the right inks for the last step were loaded. This tattoo had some real kick to it, and it had to be done perfectly for its magic to work.
"This thing's supposed to make me look the best I possibly can. It's supposed to rewrite me into a better me. It'll help me get ahead in life for once. Why would I back out?" She seemed annoyed at the delay.
I took a deep breath, trying to keep the irritation out of my own voice. "Because there's no telling how it's going to work once it's complete. You may not know the same people, you may not have anything like the same life you lived. I will be the spell's anchor in reality as it affects you, to make sure the intent is steady, but you will be changing on the most fundamental levels possible. All that will be left of the present you will be a vague memory of who you once were. The only guarantee is that you'll still be alive when it's done. Even I won't know what happened to you until I get a sense after it's finished." I honestly liked doing this one, the results were almost always amazing to watch, but still. Risks.
"Yeah, yeah, and that's why it's so expensive. I had to save for months!"
No, the reason it was so expensive was because I was the only person who could do it with more than a 50-50 shot of success, plus materials. "Alright then. I just need you to tell me you want me to finish the spell. It only works with consent."
"Just do it. I want you to do it."
"Alright then. Go ahead and lay back down. The last part will take about two minutes to complete." She complied, and I got back to work. True to word, it was brief. With one last whir of the pen, I put the last patch of color on my client. Suddenly, it began to glow as the spell took effect. "Looks like it's working, the spell is taking hold. Now for the fun part."
"I see the glow, but I don't feel any different. What gives?"
"Patience. It takes about a minute for it to rewrite each year of your life and starts from conception, so right now it's just getting to the part where you were big enough to see on an ultrasound." It also wasn't obvious to HER, but she was already changing. Flashes of events came to me. This time around, her mother had managed to resist alcohol and tobacco while she was pregnant, and the process of her birth had gone much more smoothly. The arm muscles which she had struggled to develop and given up training in life suddenly firmed up, her breathing became easier, some of the flab melting away.
A moment later she spoke again. "Huh, this is feeling weird. Now I can feel stuff change, but I don't know why it's changing."
I checked the progress in my head. "Most people's earliest memories are from when they were three or four years old. The spell is only just about to reach the point where you turned three, so I'm not surprised." She might not remember, but I certainly did. As a toddler in reality, the first time she tried to run resulted in her slipping and slamming into a table corner, resulting in both a concussion and an aversion to running. That didn't happen this time around, and she found out that she simply loved the feel of it. Now, her first memories were of the pure joy of running, sprinting faster than anyone she knew. Including most adults. As I watched, the rest of the flab melted fast and her thighs bulked up, her butt firming and calves expanding. She had become a runner. A sprinter. The muddy look behind her eyes cleared as well as her lifelong brain fog left for the first time she could remember, the concussion having been undone.
"Oh, that is much better. You can stop it now, I think I like where I'm at."
"I'm afraid not. Once it is begun, it will go all the way through regardless of what anyone wants." I kept watching her body as it adapted to its new history.
"Is that why you asked me for consent so many times? Why you made sure it was what I wanted? Oh, wow, okay. That's already working better." She seemed surprised at her own speech, which was coming out much more clearly and delivering much sharper insights than an hour ago.
"Exactly. Now, it should be working through your elementary school years." And work it did. She was a quick learner in school, breezing through her classes and going to her true passion of running. The joy turned into a competitive streak, and by the time she got to middle school she was the fastest sprinter in her age bracket... or the next two... for the entire state. She discovered what fitness meant, but heeded the words of those who cautioned her not to overtrain so young. Her flab was basically gone now, reduced to a column of finely tuned muscle. Her abdominals firmed up until you could bounce a quarter off of them, her butt did the same. Even her droopy chest contracted in, down to barely more than an A cup over her smooth pectoral muscles. All in all, a nice effect. Even her hair was less oily, better cared for. Most dramatically, her pallid skin took on a bronzed tan from her hours in the sun.
"Wow, I didn't realize my body was that far out of whack. I can remember running, some strength things, and even light gymnastics to work on my coordination. I... I was an athlete? Yeah, I was. Whoah, that felt good..."
"No joke. Looks like as soon as you realized you could be rewarded for running faster than everyone else, you entered every short and middle distance event there was. If it was two kilometers or less, you made sure everyone else was fighting for second place."
"I remember turning fourteen, winning a big event, watching the Olympics, and thinking I could do that. And... okay, I think I did do that."
"Incredible what your body was capable of." I wasn't even kidding, no matter how well someone's history went it wasn't just anyone who could perform at that level. As her hormones hit in High School, she casually dominated every race she entered, and surprised exactly nobody when she qualified for the Olympics. The boys noticed her, how could they not? She noticed the boys, too, but decided it wasn't worth her time to get distracted. She graduated, went to the Olympics, and crushed three events to bring home golds. Would have been five, but the middle distance runs weren't scheduled right to let her do them along with the short sprints. In reality, her body got stronger. Her abs gained definition, her breasts grew to modest but noticeable B cups, and her facial features developed into absolutely lethal shape. If she hadn't been out running, she could have been a model easily.
"Gold! I'm a gold medalist! Multiple! I never even dreamed of it, but it's my life now!"
