Shopping: Mandatory {Jac}

[Sephora Forrest]

Sephora walked along the sidewalk with an almost distinguishable spring in her step, carting about a number of shopping bags with her. It was virtually impossible to find Seph in a better mood than after she’d been on a shopping spree. What better way to celebrate the return of her big fat paychecks anyway? Retail therapy: the most expensive form of therapy out there. And everything that was expensive was clearly the best option right? You only pay for quality.

She’d been out of the Three Broomsticks on the crack of sundown and over to London via Floo Powder faster than if you'd said 'Gucci 50% off shoe sale' (well, maybe not), and hadn’t stopped until she had at least three bags to satiate her appetite for shiny new objects. The rest of the trip had been more leisurely, and she’d picked up a cute little purse and matching belt, not to mention a pair of brown platform heels that she simply had to have. How could anyone refuse a pair of sexy heels? Thankfully with the return of her much inflated salary she no longer had to remind herself she needed to pay the rent.

Sephora yawned, and knew she was likely to be rather tired tonight. Shopping was a serious and tiring business, but the main problem here was she had gotten up way earlier than usual. A girl had to pick out an outfit didn’t she? And then there was the question of coordinating it with the right pair of heels – a process which could take half an hour or more if done correctly – and then finding the right matching accessories. Fortunately she didn’t need to fix her hair since it behaved itself on most mornings. Nothing a quick brush and a little moisturizer to keep it healthy it couldn’t fix. She only had her favorite black trench coat to wear out anyway, so that didn’t take much brain power.

The overall effect of all this effort looked very… red. She’d decided to take her own suggestion from ages ago to wear her red clothing out more. And when Sephora said red, nothing short of vivid crimson red would do. One thing that you could say about Sephora was that she was most certainly not conservative. In her opinion: why go out if not to get noticed?

Tonight her coat somewhat marred the completely red look, but it was the only black item of her apparel: red heels, nails and lips, shortish red dress with a v-neck – of course. Anyone who knew her could expect nothing else when she was going out on the town. The result would also lead to freezing toes, but pain and frostiness had to be endured for the sake of looking stunning.

Passing a brightly lit display window, something red and black and shiny caught her eye. There, illuminated in its own circle of light like a holy thing, was possibly one of the most amazingly, stunningly, expensively sexy shoes ever to be graced upon the Earth by the shoe god… More to the point why was she standing here marveling at their sheer unearthliness while someone else might be buying them?

Hurrying inside, she made a bee line for the display featuring her dream shoe… well her current dream shoe. No matter how many dream shoes she found, she kept on finding ones that were even more amazing. Damn those shoe designers for making such sexy shoes.

She didn’t bother to check the price tag: whatever it was they were worth it. Besides, she needed some new godly good looking shoes for her collection work. They might even help her catch the eye of Silas a decent tasting meal. She glanced impatiently around for one of the sales assistants. Where were they? Pesky little buggers – couldn’t they see she needed to buy some shoes here? They must be getting stock from out the back or something, and she couldn’t help but tap her foot while she waited. She seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

[Jacaranda Mulciber]

[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/jac_bg.jpg,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/jac_foot.jpg][atrb=style,background-position: bottom; background-repeat: no-repeat; padding: 2px 30px 88px 150px; text-align: justify;]When in Rome… Well, Jacaranda Mulciber was hardly going to carry around armfuls of bags like your regular muggle woman. When Jac went shopping, she made it a personal thing. Each piece of clothing was bought separately, and she could remember on which occasion she bought which piece. She had exhausted this season’s elegant office slut wear, and was on the look out for more formal wear. She’s found the perfect dress. Black and scarlet, accentuating bust, hanging loose and short over the hips, now all she needed was a matching pairs of elegant shoes. Passing one expensive boutique window, she’s spotted a perfect pair. Black, dangerously high heels with red underside. She mentally pencilled them in as the fifth most glorious shoes she’d ever seen. Simple in design, but graceful. She and her single bag went in, and commandeered the attendant. What she was currently wearing was enough to get the attendant’s attention: an understated but expensive designer coat, black, buttoned and tied loosely at the waist. Enough to show off the presence of curves under the warming garment. Her skirt peeked out from under the coat, a charcoal grey. Her legs were stockinged, and she wore her more suitable shopping shoes: three inch heeled ankle boots, decorated almost vintagely. Compared to the red-clad girl who strutted in as she finished speaking with the attendant, Jac’s clothing was practically subtle, even though the price tags were not. Over the years, Jac had picked a wardrobe that invited a good look, but the more you did look, the more you noticed the quality. Jac did wear red on occasion, but it was an attention-snagging colour, and this little girl hardly had the presence or the cleavage to overpower it. Barely giving the younger customer a second thought, she turned back to the attendant and handed over the cash card that pulled funds directly from her Gringotts account. Oh how she didn’t miss the days of having to tote around handfuls of muggle cash to buy exotic clothing. It had turned out the pair in the window were the only pair left, and although they were not quite Jac’s size, there were benefits to being a fashion-conscious witch. Shoe-resizing charms were her second best spell after collating. She and the attendant walked across the store and Jac stood by while the attendant lifted the last pair of black and red heels from the stand in the window. The girl seemed to have been eyeing them up, and Jac turned her smug smile on her. A little frown creased between her eyebrows. She recognised this girl, and when she realised where from, she gave a huff. It was a stripper from Scores. Surely the little witch could find somewhere more suitable to shop for her profession? A tacky little shop a few streets over called Ann Summers would do. Looking imperious, Jac ignored the shop attendant as she scurried away to box the shoes in favour of dressing down the girl in front of her (Jac refused to even mentally use the term ‘young woman’, as it only accentuated the fact that she was no longer one). Besides, with breasts like that, she could get away with playing a pre-teen role. Did Silas employ her for the paedophiles in the crowd? She should be wearing a school uniform, not a dress and shoes like that. And her hair, what a bird’s nest. Anybody would think she didn’t know any good hair-stasis spells. Jac’s own hair was pulled up in a lazy sexy-librarian bun, the curls falling from it artistically curled and perfect despite the weather outside. Even the girl’s makeup looked like she’d raided mummy’s stash. Jac was casual, with neutral tones around her eyes, and her regular regime of facial creams negated the need for foundation or blush. The accountant pursed her lips, and gave a haughty sniff. “Are you lost?” She asked, though the sub-text sounded suspiciously like, ‘get lost’.

[Sephora Forrest]

Yeah, the sales staff in this store officially sucked. The world it seemed was a slow and tedious place. The wait was beginning to dampen her chipper mood, and she took another sweeping glance around to see if there were any staff lurking behind shelves she might be able to snag.

She spotted one of those elusive sales assistants coming her way – about time too – but she was leading an older and certainly much taller woman in her wake. It only took Sephora a second to recognize the tall brunette: and it was a face she was none to pleased to see either.

Jacaranda Mulciber: the perpetually haughty Scores accountant, and more importantly, the woman who was likely standing in the way of her getting an all you can eat buffet from Si. It was hardly a secret the account was fucking Silas: if the noise didn’t give it away, the fact she had Silas’s smell all over her was a dead giveaway. There were a number of people at Scores whom she would happily feed to a hungry pack of toothless, clawless lions, and the older woman was certainly one of them.

Her good mood had disappeared completely by this point, and any trace of smile that could have been playing about the corners of her lips melted away instantly. Sephora’s good moods were often few and far between, and instable at best so the sudden change was hardly unusual for her. She stood out of the way with her temper rapidly rising as all she could do was watch as that evil wench bought her shoes! They were going to go to such waste – tall women like her should never wear heels that were over three inches tall, they just ended up looking like they were going to fall over and crush all the helpless people below them. It was complete and utter blasphemy!

Her expression soured further as the accountant turned to her with the smuggest expression on her face, as if she was deliberately setting out to make Sephora’s life as frustrating as possible. Fuck! This was totally not her week: first Rickie now this. Granted, Rickie had gone in her favor in a big way – today’s shopping spree was enough to attest to that, but already she was getting the impression this wasn’t going to end well. She didn’t have her shoes for starters.

Her foot jerked a little at the snide comment, in an effort not to resort to straight forward violence. She’d felt like strangling people rather a lot this week, she reasoned she needed to do more physical activity to let off all this excess energy. Hunting would likely be messy this evening.

“Me? Lost? Not at all: I’m just a little surprised to see you here, this being a fashion precinct and all,” she replied coolly, after a quick assessment of her attire. Boring, boring, boring! Just because she was well on her way to old age, didn’t mean she had to dress like an old woman who was well past her prime. As if it wasn’t dreary enough outside – grey was not an advisable colour unless you wanted to blend in with the footpath. The boots she supposed were excusable – she wasn’t really much of a boots person, but they were decent at least.

“Nice choice by the way – a little higher than I’d have bought if I was your height, but they certainly are nice. I quite like your boots as well: they go well with your outfit and that dreary weather outside,” she continued quickly in a tone that could have been mistaken for light and conversational but which carried the impression of very distinct sarcasm. She only pausing delicately for a moment to allow emphasis on her first statement without giving time for much rebuke until she’d finished speaking herself. She was normally quite chatty to people she knew that she happened across while shopping, and usually got on quite well with anyone who shared her little hobby, but today that clearly was going to be impossible.

[Jacaranda Mulciber]

[atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellspacing,0,true][atrb=cellpadding,0,true][atrb=border,0,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/jac_bg.jpg,true][atrb=background,http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v36/Tigeress/Random/postscripts/jac_foot.jpg][atrb=style,background-position: bottom; background-repeat: no-repeat; padding: 2px 30px 88px 150px; text-align: justify;]Jac raised a brow. Some children should just hold their tongue. Thankfully Jac was above petty comments like that, and glanced to see if the attendant was done with the shoes. Still hunting for the box, apparently. The accountant gave a sigh and put a hand on her hip (a feature little… Stephanie?... seemed to be lacking) as she turned her deploring gaze on the scarlet starlet. “Well muggles put a great deal of value on their fashion, and I need something to spend my exorbitant salary on.” And Jac knew all too well how her salary compared to a simple strippers’. “I can see why a person of your… stature would like a good pair of heels. Personally the extra inches are superfluous, I’ve already got what I need.” She checked the neatly French manicured nails of the hand holding her single bag, and peered down at the multitude the girl was carrying with her. “Been to the sales, have we?” Jacaranda hadn’t bought a discounted item since she was seventeen… and she hated the stripper even more for realising that was about the age she was. With a tight smile, she reminded herself that despite the little girl’s comments, men like Silas Rosier appreciated her fashion sense. And little Samantha was lacking in rich men fawning over her. She had to gyrate around a pole to get any sort of attention from the opposite sex.

[Sephora Forrest]

“Oh yes, I hear you work quite hard for your salary too I’m sure,” replied Sephora, quirking an eyebrow. She simply couldn’t resist. “Working out all those numbers and figures must be hot and sweaty work. Still, I suppose some people might see all the extra hours as worth the bigger pay check.”

There was no level to which Sephora would not sink in order to completely and utterly embarrass the accountant.

She couldn’t help but notice her dull nail polish job – again resembling that of an old stuck up woman. Which really was quite fitting, since it was becoming quite apparent she was just that. Everything about her was so plain, brown, dull boring – how very apt for an accountant, as they were all renowned as some of the most boring people on the planet.

“Oh no, I’ve merely been doing a little bit of retail therapy,” replied Sephora in a sugary sweet voice, “I just like to keep up with the latest… fashion trends.” The last part had been accompanied by a pointed sweeping glance of the other woman’s entire get up, lingering on the particularly drole stockings before sliding her eyes away. “I guess you just don’t have as much time to get out to the shops with all your… overtime.”

[Jacaranda Mulciber]

Well, Jac was thoroughly unimpressed. Out of the Scores environment, and particularly in front of muggles, Jac could hardly give Sharon a lesson in respect, but there would be a hellfire of revenge waiting for the prissy little miss on her next shift. Her teeth gritted, and she had to stop herself from grinding them.

So she hadn’t expected her and Silas’s relationship to remain a secret for long, but Sandy’s acute hearing was a point of interest. Had she heard them personally, or got the gossip from someone else? There were silencing and other charms over the various offices she and Silas took their leisure on, so whoever started spreading the news would have to be listening in to hear them. Did they have a little voyeur on their hands? No matter. Since Abe had stumbled in on her and Silas, Jac had been steeling herself for that sort of thing happening again, and thankfully she had enough strength of will to reply without so much as a hesitation.

“Oh yes, the benefits are quite worth it. A senior position, a paycheque to match, and fabulous orgasms.” She flashed her teeth, triumphant. One thing Jacaranda was quite sure of, despite Selena’s biting tongue and dour gaze: whatever sex life this kid had, Jac’s was far superior. “Well good day to you, miss, I’m due back at work for some sweatier number crunching.” She turned to the scandalised shop assistant, took the boutique bag in her spare hand and breezed out onto the street.

[Sephora Forrest]

Sephora looked smug as it appeared her dig at the accountant’s sex life had the desired effect. Ha! Take that snobby nosed bitch. The response she received was hardly satisfying though, and she was kind of glad she didn’t have anything in her mouth at the time else she may of choked.

“Senior’s about right,” she replied, though it was a little muffled. And it wasn’t as if she needed to hear anything more about Jacaranda’s sex life – she got enough of that already. “I had no idea you were on the pension.”

She regained a little composure and perhaps false sense of self confidence as the other woman grabbed her shoes and left. Sephora would have happily – well, not happily – stood there all day and argued until the cows came home. Well, it looked like the cow had just left, but she still felt incredibly annoyed. If she owned a wand (and could use one) she’d have cursed the tall woman’s retreating form right then and there. It was probably a very good thing that Sephora did not in fact own a wand.

Stalking out onto the street several minutes later, she went straight in the direction of the closest wizarding building she could find, so she could go home, dump her things and then go and find some poor morsel to munch on.