Chapter Text
A horrible noise goes out throughout the room. It’s that time again.
Time to wake up.
A girl, sleeping on the couch on her side, groans over the intrusion on the precious sleepy time. Young lady is having a difficulty getting up, but as always – she does it, lifting herself into a sitting position.
This is a face of someone who had to go to bed late due to important things that couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come.
Poor lass is rubbing her eyes with a thumb and a finger of right hand. _Hurts, doesn’t it?_ A familiar feeling of undersleeping.
The horrible noise is still going and going.
Right, the phone alarm. The girl grabs it with her right arm – a sad sight, yet inspiring, in a way – this phone has seen much and even the reinforced glass of this model is all in scratches, which isn’t surprising, considering that she immediately tossed it into her left arm…
Gah, another scratch now.
The prosthetic’s clawed fingers aren’t the perfect way of interacting with a phone screen, yet, what can this young lady do? She knows better, but it’s a habit of being lefty, after all.
The girl stretches her arms and upper body before getting off the couch and stretching out everything else.
Time for a splash.
Lass is yawning the entire… few steps till bathroom is reached. Face washed, teeth brushed, the usual important things in the morning before breakfast, consisting of… well, not much, but the important things in her eyes, you know? A toasted sandwich of peanut butter and chocolate-hazelnut spread, a cup of energizing jasmine green tea – all that’s needed to be ready for the day forward.
Now, for the most difficult part – dressing up for work.
At this point, over two years, you think the girl could’ve already got used to wearing the uniform. But no. It’s still shameful to her, and it’s difficult for the lass to even explain why, with the exception of: “It’s too girly and stupid and–” before getting lost on whatever to say, again.
Alas, gotta dress up either way, Uncle and others are waiting.
Dress: check.
Handkerchief with brooch: check.
Laced gloves: check.
Laced thigh-highs: check.
Shoes: check.
All done.
Fortunately, after so many dress-ups, handling getting into the dress with a tail isn’t troublesome anymore.
Gotta rush down.
Yeah, sure, it’s just descending from the second floor to the first, but still, time is everything.
— Ready! — exclaimed the girl on her way down, notifying the other employees.
— A second faster. You are definitely trying, — dry and calmly concluded the man behind the barstand.
_A menacing figure of almost 2 meters tall with raven black hair, wearing aviator shades and a simple, yet professional attire of a blue shirt with a tie, black vest, trousers and loafers. Strict and slick, as the owner should be._
— Uncle please, stop rubbing it in… — replied lassy with a slight annoyed pout, — I’m trying!
— Get to work, Paige is already polishing every damn corner of the place, — ordered the voice from the other side of the barstand.
The black goat in red-and-white shouldn’t seem that threatening, and yet she exuded a much more potent, no-bullshit surface aura than the owner.
— Ah-ah-ah! Don’t you bully sweetie Asha again, Jael! — cheerily shouted-out the busy-bee of an employee sheep, polishing two tables at once.
There was something wrong with this white sheep with raven-black hair and spiral horns. She was tiny, a little higher than 130 centimeters, a certified cinnamon pie with a sunny attitude. And yet, how she talked to the goat…
— Fucks sake, Paige, I am not in the mood–
— She. Is. Trying! I wasn’t perfect either!
— She’s been working here for two years at this point and the fact that she’s boss’s niece changes nothing.
— Arguably, that makes things worse… — whispered Asha to herself.
— Asha, talk to me directly when you have something to say, — responded in the same usual manner the girl’s uncle, the owner, not even looking at her.
— S-sorry, Uncle, just meant that you never gave me much leeway anyway–
— Yeah, chief was always fair to everyone here, right? — interrupted the horned lass Paige the Sheep.
— Hey, kid, you making up a commotion again?
A large hand landed on top of Asha’s big puffy mane of a wavy red hair, rumbling through it affectionately by an almost 3 meter tall troll woman in a bouncer outfit. Just her sheer size is menacing enough, let alone the red eyes, two tusks and a pair of sideway going bent handlebar-like horns.
— Nooo auntie Rory stop–
— ALL OF YOU, TO WORK! WE ARE OPENING IN AN HOUR AND THERE’S STILL STUFF TO PREPARE! RUSH RUSH RUSH! — exploded loudly miss Jael, almost throwing a pen at the troll.
— Aye aye! — confirmed Asha, quickly getting to her duties with all the seriousness she could muster.
At the same time, Rory wasn’t impressed: — You are always such a buzzkill, you know that? — said the giant woman calmly before proceeding to retire to her post beyond the entrance, having bend a bit to get out.
The goat lady leans back in her sit and sighs loudly.
— I need a drink.
— Jael, I forbade you from succumbing to your alcoholism during work hours. And you are aware that I am also watching over my employees beyond the schedule, too, — still full of chill, yet now with more of a _spine_ kind, said in a hushed tone the owner, actually looking at someone for once. Still through the shades, though.
— Y-yes, boss, — nervously replied goat manager, — I will retreat to the backroom, if you would.
— Please, do. There’s still a lot of accounting to do, — talked in the usual manner again the man, the only horn-less one around, not looking in the woman’s direction yet again.
After Jael retreated, the owner announced to not really anyone, but the place itself:
— Opening in 43 minutes. Customers will be there soon.
Even beyond the shades, there could be noticed a pale, yet vibrant light blue shine at that moment, just for a second, before vanishing again.