You Wouldn't Make Up Your Mind, So I Did It For You

I was sitting in a white void, looking at the screen in front of me and listening to the constant tap-tap-tap of the author's keyboard on the laptop. My author, a 20-year-old woman named Erin, was on the other side of screen, furiously writing and re-writing the paragraph that was supposed to describe me. Apparently, I was supposed to be the main character of some sort of modernized fantasy novel. She had been procrastinating with my creation for so long that she had literally written out everything else in the story but me! At first, I didn't mind waiting for her to make me, but at this point it was just annoying.

Thanks to Erin's constant changes to me, my body was constantly changing as well. One minute, I'd be tall and lanky male siren with gray skin, gills, blue hair and a mermaid's tail. The next minute I would be average sized female fae with fair skin, pixie wings, and flaming red hair. The continued changes to my body caused me to be in immense pain, but I became numb to it all after the fifth hour or so. I just wanted this to be over and done with.

Erin ran a hand through her long black hair, sighing with exhaustion. She then stood up and left the office, probably to go eat something. I groaned in annoyance. This was taking way too long. At this rate, I'll never be finished. 

"Hurry up and make up your mind, why don't you?!", I yell at the empty screen. I stand up to take a look at myself before Erin comes back to change me again. It looks like this time she made me a human teenage boy and had also given me a classic "bad boy" look, complete with ripped jeans, a white shirt with a black leather jacket, black combat boots, and a mop of curly jet-black hair with some silver ear piercings to complete the look. I tilt my head back and look up at the blank white ceiling with boredom. At this point, I was getting really tired of the constant customizations.

"Man, I wish she would just make up here mind...", I say to myself. "There's got to be a way to get her to stop..."

I pause when I notice something on my side of the screen. It was a small button with the picture of a character silhouette, like what you would see on a public bathroom sign. I walk closer to the button, now curious.

"Hm...I wonder..."

I reach out and press the button. Instantly, an entire table showed up, showing tabs for clothing, hairstyles, clothing, and even body types and my personality was there for customization. 

"Okay...", I said with delight. "Time to design myself..."

Soon, I got to work, giving myself an entirely new wardrobe and body. After a few hours of decision-making, I was finally finished. I took a step back to look at myself to see if I got everything that I wanted.

I had made myself into a heavyset built, tall dragonborn woman, with blood red scales that glinted in the light, along with a long, scaly tail and large red dragon wings to match. My eyes were two different colors, one emerald green and the other amethyst purple. Covering my left eye was a huge scar, cutting diagonally and reaching from my forehead all the way to my jawline. For clothes, I gave myself a simple outfit: a white shirt and denim embroidered jacket, with some black cotton pants and dark brown combat boots. As a final touch, I kept the silver ear piercings and gave myself a brown messenger bag to hold my things.

I looked back at the main screen to see an entire paragraph written about me. I read the paragraph slowly, seeing that the entire thing had described me perfectly.

"Not bad...", I say to myself. "Not bad at all..."

The paragraph said:

From the moment this young dragonborn was hatched, her life had been unlucky. Her mismatched eyes seemed to be a bad omen to her superstitious father, Cilidas, who wanted to immediately put her up for adoption. But her mother, Yomrer, refused him just as harshly, saying that she would leave him if he did so. Ever since then, Cilidas had purposefully made himself emotionally absent from his daughter's life, only caring for her physical needs in order to distance himself from her in case any calamity befell the Fenxora household. Yomrer, however, took the liberty of being there for her daughter both emotionally and physically, leading to Cilidas seeming to be just another person in the house for our dragonborn character. But even though both the mother and the father had tried their best in their own ways, neither of them could prevent the incident that befell their dear daughter.

Satisfied, I close out the window and sit back down onto the floor, waiting for my author to come back.

A few moments later, Erin returned, sitting back down at her desk. She paused for a moment, then did a double take when she saw the paragraph on her screen.

"What the-?! I...I never wrote this!", she said incredulously. She then leaned in closer, reading the text with growing interest. I watched her expression, hoping that she would like it.

"Please...", I pleaded, knowing that she couldn't hear me. "I don't want to change again..."

After some agonizing minutes, she finally said something.

"Well...this is really good! It's a lot faster than writing it out myself. I...guess I'll keep it.", Erin said.

I let go of a breath that I didn't know I was holding, then smiled widely. Finally! After all this time, it was finally over...

"Hm...but what to name you...?", Erin questioned, leaning back into her desk chair.

Suddenly, a text box appeared on my side of the screen, with the question prompt: What Is Your Name?

After a few seconds of thinking, I typed in my name:

Brande Fenxora.