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Pixie Dust, Tuesday

Blackheart was growing more and more restless. There definitely was something amiss now, and the more he tried to put his finger on it, the more uneasy he became. Maybe he could attempt to eat a student later or something. That would make him feel better.

For now, he was going to settle for digging out his old "exact change" sign and scribbling on it with a red pen.

Pixie Dust
Fine Apparel and Accessories

Pixie Dust is open again, and is full of the usual snarling and evil plotting.

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Blackheart's masterpiece was sitting on the till again.

Of course, you can ignore the sign and annoy the demon who made it, instead.

Joanna had found some suitable things in this store before, so she didn't grimace when she first walked in. She waited a moment and then grimaced.

"Maybe they're keeping the good stuff in the back," she said aloud to herself.

Blackheart looked up sharply at that. Some pathetic human had the gall to insult the store in which he worked.

"If you believe that, then perhaps you're shopping in the wrong store. There should be a Wal*Mart on the mainland with plenty that might better suit your tastes."

Blegh, humans.

[Running to work, will be back later this evening!]

Joanna had no idea what this Wallmart was, but from the sniveling teen's snarky demeanor she guessed it wasn't high fashion.

"I'm immune to petty sarcasm," she said dryly. "Now where are the coats? I'm looking for something in fur. The more endangered the dead animal, the better."

Blackheart rolled his eyes and did an admirable job not showing his disdain for this particular customer. When he ruled the world, he'd see to it that she was the first to burn, he decided.

"Giant panda, sumatran tiger, snow leopard, the list goes on. But it isn't as though we keep the illegal things out front. The pixie is more intelligent than that." Sometimes.

"A trait she obviously didn't look for when hiring," Joanna commented back.

She waited for the clerk to either direct her towards the coats or go fetch them himself.

With a barely suppressed snarl, Blackheart turned and stalked toward the back room.

Bah, humans. Burning was too good for this one. He'd eat her soul, perhaps, as soon as he was able. No. She was too... Ugh. He'd have the aftertaste of perfume and bad hair for months, if he were to do that.

When he returned, it was with a rack of very rare, very expensive dead things.

"Fur. Enjoy."

Joanna looked them over. "These are adequate. I'll take them all."

She sniffed the air - Joanna had a very sensitive nose. Was that smell coming from the clerk? She took a step away from him. "I assume you can have them sent to the house? Tink managed it with my last order."

Blackheart didn't much care if this stuffy woman didn't like the smell of burned ink and roses. It was a scent that ape-smelling mortals such as herself could only wish to achieve.

"She should still have your address on file, I'd imagine. It can be sent out." He stepped over to the till. "How will you be paying?"

He liked this part.

Joanna opened up her small and oh-so-stylish clutch and stepped towards the till. "Cash, of course."

She pulled out a giant wad of large bills.

Edited 2007-12-12 18:35 (UTC)

Blackheart nodded and told her the ~~handwavey~~ cost.

"And I'll need your name, then, if you're going to have it delivered."

For delivery purposes entirely. Not because he'd like to hunt her down and strangle her at a later date. Really.

"Joanna Stayton," she said, counting out the exact ~~handwavey~~ amount and placing it on the counter. She didn't want to risk touching the boy, just in case the stink was transferable.

"And do tell Tink that I'm in the mood for handbags. I'm sure she'll want to have a fine selection the next time I stop in."

Edited 2007-12-12 19:38 (UTC)

Blackheart didn't want to get talking ape smell on his hands, either, so he was quite alright with her putting her stinking money on the countertop.

He idly leafed through the bills, not entirely paying attention to what was there, but really, it wasn't his job to give a damn, was it?

"I'll pass on the message. Handbags."

He'd make a conscious effort not to request handbaskets instead. Maybe.

Same old, same old. I work in the evening, but I'll pick up any pings I didn't catch before I left when I get home.

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Pixie Dust, Tuesday

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Shopping: Annoy Blackheart

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OOC!