Story commission from  PhobosWrites

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Zeydaan hummed to themself as they walked around the pawn shop. They hadn’t come for anything in particular and were mainly just browsing for any good deals that caught their eye. Everything in the video games was either overpriced or bad, so they had resorted to examining the walls for anything of interest. It was hard for Zeydaan to know what was actually priced well or not on their own, but with the power of Google and eBay they managed to discern just about everything in the shop was just slightly overpriced and not at all worth it. That is, save for one item in particular.

It was a rifle, although nothing remotely close to military ordinance. No, it was a paintball gun, stylized and covered with enough colors that nobody would ever confuse it for an actual weapon. The interesting part was that there was absolutely no real paintball rifle that looked like that. The only thing even close to it was in game models from Splatoon. The gun screamed custom job, and for a price well below what you saw most even low end paintball rifles going for, Zeydaan felt like they’d found a winner. At worst it was a cool display piece, at best they could flip it and sell it to someone for a decent chunk of change.

Regardless, Zeydaan bought it and took it back with them, considering the whole venture to have been a resounding success. However, holes in their victory started to form almost instantly as they noticed that something seemed to be leaking from the gun. Sticky, glossy paint covered Zeydaan’s hands, painting them a pale peachy tone. It was surprising just how quickly the paint stuck on, giving Zeydaan’s hands a rubber shine as they shrunk down into a more humanoid shape. Zeydaan gulped as they realized that the paint was spreading, crawling down the length of their arms.

Zeydaan was helpless to stop the inexorable spread of paint. All they could do was watch as their arms compressed down into thin little noodles devoid of any fur at all. They squirmed a little as it overtook their chest, dousing their clothes and remodeling them into a tight, rubbery street punk outfit. Within seconds there wasn’t any fur left on Zeydaan’s body, save for their face. But even that was short lived as the paint made quick work of them. Their muzzle flattened out in an instant, replaced by a soft, girlish face that was almost human but not quite. A head of heavy hair congealed on their head, which was a rather strange thing for hair of all things to do. But the hair was thick like rubber with the wiggly consistency of a jelly, ending with twintails that were shaped like orange squid tentacles.

They stumbled around awkwardly, finding that they’d shrunk down to a rather diminutive size and that the now heavy rifle hadn’t shrunk very much at all. With a confused ‘woomy’ they took some steps forward, rubbery boots squeaking with each step. Zeydaan had no clue how to get any of this paint off themselves, or why they had the very intense urge all of a sudden to start using that new gun of theirs...