This post is written from the perspective of Bambi, Freyja's human thrall.
With a quiet sound in the back of her throat, the small, curvy woman tapped her foot impatiently as she checked her watch again. She was running out of time, and if the ***** didn’t get here before deadline, she was going to have to leave without the exchange. It would be her own fault, and her own problem. The blonde girl stood out in the small crowd around the fountain in the mall, her powder blue Rainbow Dash jacket a fairly unique item around the huge shopping complex, the tiny wings a personal touch she was rather pleased with. She checked her watch one last time before she sighed, and pat idly at her bag. This was just going to have to be one customer that went without.
She glanced over her shoulder as she moved away from the fountain, checking to be sure that no one was following her; a lesson she learned the hard way last time. In her hand, still tucked into the pocket of her jacket, she held a tazer powerful enough to put a bull on the floor. Her pistol, the gift from her best friend, her soul mate, was in the glove box of her car. She couldn’t very well carry a *******
cannon into the mall with her. As she made her way to the front door of the mall, she took another glance over her shoulder and, failing to see anyone following her, turned back to watch where she was going, just before colliding with a tiny woman with tight pink curls. She gasped, and clutched at her bag, keeping it safe as she just barely moved out of the woman’s way.
“****, watch where you’re going!” she snapped, and tossed her bag over her shoulder again, moving from the front door of the mall. Her car was parked close to the door, VIP parking right near the doors. She smirked when she slipped behind the wheel of the Jaguar, the monster W-12 engine roaring to life when she turned the key. She caught the looks of a small knot of teens from the gathering around the old, beat up Cherokee they used as the group vehicle, she was sure. She shot the tall blonde in the cheerleader’s uniform a kiss and gave her a wink before she flicked the supercar into reverse, the whine of the engine a gentle purr as she peeled out of the parking lot in a flash, leaving the group behind with a chuckle at the blonde’s expense.
The next place was a lot more difficult to find, and required her to park the hyper-expensive vehicle on the side of the street. As she stood on the sidewalk, staring at the way her baby shimmered in the bright Canadian sun, she placed her sunglasses over her eyes and smiled, taping the lock key with a satisfying
beepbeep from the horn. She turned on a tall stiletto and made her way into the Publisher’s, her hand lifting to her glasses to lift them to her brow, her brilliant blue eyes squinting at the spines of what books she could see as she started her search. She pulled her notebook from her bag, and flipped it open to the page with the books she was going to need; the hardest among them was the book of Arabic Poetry, circa forty years ago. Her hopes weren’t high for that one.
The rest, though, should be simple. More modern textbooks, and a few reference materials, all of them more common than the rare book of poetry in a language she
knew she didn’t know, and was pretty certain Freyja wouldn’t know at all. That, however, mattered none at all to the professors at school, their only worry in life, it felt like, was seeing to it that everything she would need for her class was a metric ton of materials that she would never use. She took a breath and looked over the list, before she began to scan the racks, quietly stepping around the handful of patrons the little shop had already acquired for the day. She gave the only other woman in the store, who she assumed was the employee from her unnaturally bubbly personality and upbeat attitude, two things that were expertly manufactured by retail workers everywhere. She avoided the commotion she seemed to be coming into the tail end of, and allowed the second man to complete his conversation with her as she began to idly browse the shelves in hopes of finding the books she was after.
Quietly, she wiggled her way into the stacks, her finger tapping against the page in the notebook as she let her eyes roam over the spines of the books the publisher had up for display. The textbooks were relatively easy to find, their large size and larger than life print made reading the titles even from afar a complete cakewalk. She smiled gleefully and reached up to take the first of the books, collecting two copies and setting them down into her bag. She glanced back to the front of the store, where she expected the receptionist to still be busy with her first two customers while Bambi browsed. She just hoped that nobody got the wrong impression. The list was impressive, and she needed two of every book. Carrying them in her arms just wasn’t going to be an option. She was a strong girl, but she wasn’t
that strong!
She kept an ear cocked to the front, listening to the interaction between the customers and the one staff member on duty, so far as she could tell. The girl did enjoy her job, she could tell that much, even if it appeared there were some… less than savory aspects of the employment, though, wasn’t it that way with any job? All the better to just remain unemployed, and get by on money your parents made and your good looks. That was Bambi’s philosophy, and to date, it hadn’t failed her yet. She smiled to herself, and tugged at her top, adjusting herself while she had a moment of privacy, and kept herself looking just right. She flipped open her compact, peering at herself in the tiny mirror, dragging a pad across her face to smooth out the light dusting of makeup across her cheeks, hiding her freckles. The contacts in her eyes made her already blue stare a startling Clearwater blue, her hair bleached to a platinum blonde today. She was, if she said so herself, looking fabulous today. She was very pleased with Freyja’s job, and would be sure to let her know when she got home with their books.
She looked over her shoulder, back toward the front door to where the receptionist had been handling her customers, debating on asking for help. Deciding it was best, rather than trying to search through the entire building for just the books she needed, she returned to the front, idly leaning against one of the stacks as she waited for the full-figured blonde to have a moment, arms crossed neatly beneath her ample chest as she flipped open her 3DS to catch a few minutes of Pokémon while she waited her turn.
