#BlogBattle 12: Horde

(This is a continuation story, so if you’d like to know how Grecca has spent her day, start at Grecca Through the Loops and then check out Grecca In the News)

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After Grecca got off the phone with Eirene she dashed to her closet, excited to pick out an outfit for that night’s horde. Hording was the newest trend Grecca knew she couldn’t miss out on. Tonight would be her second and she relished the idea of dancing the night away in the old capital building.

The whole building was an overrun forest fortress and had become the go-to spot for all celebrity hording festivities. If she didn’t show, it could put a damper on everyone’s fun, she reasoned. After all, Grecca was queen of the night whenever she went out on the town.

She pressed the palm of her hand to the black crystalline wall causing the closet door to slide open, a soft whooshing sound accompanied by various spot lights twinkling on was the only welcoming she received from the closet.

“Hello, clothes! You make me happy. Now Closet, what shall I wear to the horde tonight?”

“Based on weather forecasts for the evening, a lightweight flowy outfit would do nicely,” a bodiless voice with a perfect Ancient English accent responded.

“Ooh no, not that voice tonight, Closet. Do . . . a la français ce soir.”

“Pardon,” the automated closet voice replied. “Ici,” her sultry french voice offered while the computer controlled closet selected several outfits fitting the weather forecast.

“Much better. Hmmm . . . everyone loved my retro tennis shoes. Narrow down to my early 2000s inspired pieces.” She tapped her foot, impatient for the computer to remove the clothing not meeting her requirements. Within seconds there were only four pieces remaining. “Perfect!” she exclaimed in delight, reaching out for the synthetic, black silk, sleeveless jumpsuit.

Grecca giggled in delight. Once she stepped out of the enormous closet the floating female voice said, “Bon soir, ma chere.”

“Merci.”

She quickly changed her clothes and pressed the button on her own sleek holo-watch-phone-computer-band and said, “Send in Corrin.”

Grecca sat at her vanity. The mirror and surrounding area lit up as soon as her tush made contact with the seat. She smiled at her flushed reflection and twirled a wayward strand of bright green hair.

“You called, Miss,” Corrin said as soon as she stepped through the door.

“Yes. Do my hair and help with my make up. I still cannot work this vanity. I liked my old one just fine, but my father always needs the best of everything.”

Grecca missed the disapproving look Corrin flashed her for a brief second. It was for the best, though, because had she seen the look, Corrin would find herself without a job before she took her next breath.  The maid quickly entered the proper sequence on the holo screen next to Grecca’s elbow, and the vanity set to work on her face. It took less than thirty seconds to apply her make up to perfection.

“I’d like bangs tonight, Corrin. Oh, let’s go red tonight, too. No one will be expecting it.”

“Yes, Miss,” Corrin replied, setting to work transforming Grecca’s hair.

In no time at all, Grecca was ready to head out for a good hording time. She smiled at her reflection, fingering her dark cherry hair. “Love. Call for my driver and get my patent black pumps, the open toe ones.”

Corrin fetched her shoes from the shoe closet and placed them just so for Grecca to step into them.

“G’night, Corrin. Don’t stay up doing chores too late,” Grecca said over her shoulder as she sauntered from the room.

She stepped outside to the flashes of paparazzi snapping a rhythmless dance in the sky around her and rode the glass escalator to the platform below where she was met by a serious looking driver and a new car.

“The Old Capital Building. And make it expeditious.”

The driver didn’t budge from his place in front of the passenger door.

“Is there a problem, Driver?” she asked, looking up with unmasked annoyance.

“Yes, Miss Phoenician, there is. Let’s get one thing straight here.”

“Oh,  you don’t need to thank me, Driver.”

Grecca didn’t notice the look of surprised irritation on his face. She was too busy looking around at all the photographers, flourishing her most charming smile.

“The name’s Ariston, and I wouldn’t thank you for anything.”

His words caught her attention, and she tilted her head at him in confusion. “Excuse me? I just saved your job. You should thank me. You should be kissing my feet in gratitude.”

“You almost got me killed. You’re pig-headed and conceited.”

“It’s not too late to have you fired, Driver.”

“If you think that’s a threat, you don’t know anything. Go ahead. There isn’t another driver in this city who would take this job after the stunt you pulled today.”

She made a scoffing noise but realized too late they were still under the scrutiny of the paparazzi. “Just open the door, Ariston. Do your job, and there won’t be a problem.”

He stood his ground. “I’ll not be driving for you either, unless we clear this up. There will be no repeats of today. Just because your father replaced the Thunderbird with the updated model doesn’t mean I’ll ever drive the Loop with you again. I’m paid to keep you safe, and I won’t be bullied. I’m only sorry I didn’t listen to my better judgement this afternoon.”

“Whatever. Just let me in the car. You’re making a scene. Who knows what they’ll be plastering on these photos in the morning news.”

Ariston, caught off-guard by the thought, looked around with concern then stepped aside, tripping the motion activation to open the door. It swung back and up to allow Grecca entrance. Without another word spoken, Ariston drove Grecca to the horde.

When they arrived, the horde was in full swing, undulating as one mass in the main foyer of the building, or what remained of it. Most of it had been taken over by a forest, now protected by the Depleted Forest Restoration Act of 2501.

Ariston took to the shadows, keeping watch.

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Phew! Exactly 1000 words. That was fun. I’m not sure how I feel about hordes. I can tell Ariston doesn’t approve!

Next Story in the Series: Grecca at the End of a Rope