Haley Thistle
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Art the Orc (special preview)
🕑 Added 2023-05-06 21:00:01 +0000 UTCThe visage of the old place looked like it had once been a gas station. There was one of those big metal awnings and signs that gas pumps had once been outside. But everything else looked like the art supply store it was. The window was painted, done up with flowers and a flourishing font, but it hadn’t been touched in ages and was chipping and scrapped away.
The old place had seen better days, you could tell. But you were excited to tackle such a special project with your own two hands.
Inside the place had a familiar smell, or paint thinner, book pages, and coffee. You looked around the front as the bells on the door chimed. The old floor had seen better days and was worn out where you stood, even the welcome mat was hard to read.
“Welcome to Greengold Creative Station,” the deep voice came from behind the front desk where there was an open door. ‘I’ll be out with you in just a moment.”
“Take your time,” you replied. You continued to look around, noting the mismatched shelving and thrown together renovations dotting the place.
A moment later, a large orc came from the back. He was wearing thick glasses and had on a corded cardigan that covered and paint spattered t-shirt.
“Can I help you find anything?” He asked as he adjusted his glasses.
You approached the front desk again, extending your hand to him. “Hi! You must be Mr. Greengold, I’m from Regency Renovations.”
There was a surprised look upon his face as he shook your hand. “You’re the renovator?”
You smiled, half expecting some reservation based on your appearance. “I specialize in business and storefront renovations. That is what you wanted, correct, Mr. Greengold?”
You fumbled with his words for a moment, stuttering, touching his glasses until he spoke. “Call me Art, please.”
You held it in, but he knew where you mind went.
“It’s short for Arthur, but its also my dad’s name so my mom calls me Art. Yes, I know, ha ha, very fun. A man named Art runs the art store.”
“It’s an easy target.” You tried to squash your giggling but a few came out.
He sighed and shook his head. “So, you’ll be handling the whole store. I want it updated completely. It was fine for my parents, but I need to bring in a new generation of artists and online shopping is destroying us.”
“It’s a common issue, Art,” I didn’t look at him as I said his name. “I already have some ideas brewing and I would be happy to discuss your thoughts for the business with you.”
He sighed heavily, gazing out at a store that was once his family’s legacy. “I would say I would like to keep some of what my parents did to this place, but I don’t think any of it is salvageable.”
“Well recycling is a thing.” You replied. “Like some of these old shelves, the wood can be reused to create a rustic facade for the front desk here.” You patted the worn out formica top. “And the vintage signage out from can me reused and framed, hung just right behind you there.”
Art made a face. “You can do all that.”
You returned his face, adding a smug smile to it. “I can do lots of things, Art. My father was a carpenter and my mother was a viper. Be careful of what you inflict about me.” You patted your chest proudly. You knew you were small and chubby, not many people expected much out of you, but your work spoke for itself. And that was how you told people off.
“Sorry,” he sighed. “I have a lot riding on this so-”
