Unedited
Isla couldn't believe her good luck when the outrageous ball of energy sporting a ponytail shrieked and through her silver tray laden with glasses of burgundy liquid into the air.
"OH, MY GODDESS!!!! IS THAT A RAT'~~~~~~" All eyes snapped toward the grating noise, giving Isla the perfect opportunity to dash away with her prize. She felt her cheeks heat with pleasure, but also a little shame. She didn't know why Moony had offered herself as a distraction so that Isla could slink away with something that clearly wasn't her own. Maybe she hated Donnatelle as much as Isla did, or maybe she was just a truly chaotic being. Whatever the case, Isla knew better than to let a good opportunity slip away from her.
Spinning her way through the sea of bodies, her arms full of silvery perfection, she couldn't help but feel a little bad for Moony. She was probably going to lose her job for this; and for what? So Isla could get her hands on an object that she was going to hoard till the end of her days. As she shouldered her way through the heavy darkly stained oak doors that blocked the opulent ballroom from the lobby, sporting lush red and gold toned décor with floors tiled in what appeared to be marble. She didn't doubt that it was real, especially from the distinctive sounds of her stilettos clacking against it in her haste to be away from this place.
Bursting from Hotel Fluer, she reveled in the rush of cold night air that cooled her flushed skin. A grin, not unlike one that a cat would have after catching a mouse, lit her face as she slid her arms into the coat. The warmth of it surprising her, it even smelled faintly of the familiar scent of Donnatelles man candy. Maybe she could find a way of paying Moony back, she may be tempted in sharing a small piece of her hoard with her. Isla's steps were light as she walked down the paved streets that lead toward her private respite.
Her building wasn't in one of the high-end districts, but rather the industrial one. Close enough to Derick's hide out that she wouldn't be inconvenienced by carrying whatever goods she traded for down a busy street, and far enough away from her hunting grounds as to not raise suspicion. Humming to herself she tapped in the code that unlocked the mechanism that kept out the less than desirable inhabitants of the converted warehouse. Her neighbors changed so frequently she chose to believe that they were undesirable, but it was more likely that they couldn't afford the rent or they didn't enjoy the damp smell of the nearby river.
Either way she loved the open concept, the exposed rafters, the polished concrete floors, and the stunning floor to ceiling windows that allowed the morning sunrise to warm the space and bathe it with a golden glow. She had painstakingly filled the space with warm colors and the fruits of her labors. Antique Persian rugs, throws made of angora, and crystal dotting around the open space. Not all of it stolen, but a good portion of it was at least a trade from her favorite fence.
Falling back into the plushness of her bed, she spread her coated arms out and let out a happy squeal. Isla was absolutely pleased with herself; months of longing seemingly went away in one night. She had no idea what the fur was truly worth, but she cared very little. It was to be her most coveted possession, at least until something else struck her compulsion with even more fervor or strength; but she didn't see that truly happening anytime soon. She had never been so enamored with one object for so long.
Perhaps she should get Derick to appraise the coat, it would be nice to know how pissed off Donnatelle would be after finding her precious outerwear spirited away by some unknown. Flinging the ever offending heels from her feet, Isla rolled rather ungracefully from the height of her four poster bed. Time to see what she actually looked like in the coat, when the heat from its disappearance died down, it would be nice to know if it was actually going to be street wear or simply a house coat. Isla wasn't sure if she could bring herself to hide it away, something so luxurious should be seen by all.
Flinging open the double doors that lead to the only other True room in her home (other than the lavish bathroom that she had refurbished only just last year after her first big score) , a massive walk in closet that housed anything from a darling jewelry collection to La Perle lingerie, to sweats, to evening gowns. Isla liked a well stocked closet, she believed that every person needed one, it was the modern day persons war room after all. Hers boasted a vintage Tiffany chandelier, she had no idea how Derick got his greedy hands on it but she spent many months talking him into trading it to her, and a floor length mirror that was back lit for the perfect photo opportunity.
She did have reservations about studying herself in the silvery fur coat. Donnatelle had looked so stylish in it; with her model like body and willowy limbs. Something that Isla couldn't compete with. Standing firm at five foot four, she had a fair amount of curves some would say more than her fair share. Those people more often than not were met with her fist. Isla knew how to work every curve to her advantage, having a plush body had gotten her out of more than one bind.
When she finally got the courage to meet the green of her own eyes in the mirror, Isla was surprised to find that she looked damn good in the coat. Perhaps even better than the svelt creature who owned it previously. The coat seemed as though it had been hemmed to suite her shorter frame, and tailored to suite her curves. She couldn't help but scoff in surprise, this thing really was meant for her.
"This calls for some celebratory mochi and fried chicken," she crowed, pawing her hand held device. She always treated herself to the same meal after a success, and the delivery boy from the Korean place down town always received a generous tip. After a brief chat, and Isla updating Mrs. Jung on her day to day life, her food was on the way. Isla was always ravenously hungry, very few times in her life could she remember being truly full. Like the times she filtched a picnic basket from the kitchens of her benefactor stately home. She had eaten the whole basket, and for the first time the ravenous hunger in her stomach had subsided. She had received a stern talking to from Percy, her benefactors lovely wife, but the kind woman couldn't stay mad at Isla for too long. That might be one of the reasons Isla felt little shame about stealing things, Hector and Percy had never truly discouraged her thieving behavior. Mostly only admonishing her when she was caught by other members of their social circle.
Her childhood was a good one, she could have had it much worse. With no idea of who her real parents were, and the very real possibility of starving on the streets, growing up in a cold mansion with thriving gardens that smelled of pomegranates and sunshine really wasn't such a terrible trade off. After all, she really did believe that despite his awkward attempts at parenting, Master Hector really did care for her.
A loud knock on the red metal door that closed her home off to the cavernous hall of her building sounded through her apartment, startling her. Hoseok hardly ever knocked so assertively, but maybe he was having a bad day. She couldn't fault the delivery boy for being in a bad mood, his grandmother was truly a force to be reckoned with when it came to running her generations old restaurant. But when she swung open her door it she wasn't met with the broad grin of Hoseok, but rather someone she never expected to darken her threshold.
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Man, I hate cliffhangers, but I know it makes for good entertainment. I mean any Army out there knows I thew a little cameo of Hobi in there, I couldn't help myself. I'm trying to be subtle about alluding to something about Isla's heritage but ya'll, I think I'm failing. Hope you enjoyed this Installment of The Selkies Coat! I'll be working on the next chapter very soon.
~Lots of Love