So if you feel it, let me know.

[Tatum Donnelly]

Somewhere over her head, in this vast video rental store, the radio was playing on the loud speaker, and Tatum made an absent mental note to find out how to turn that off before the day was over.

If the radio station wasn't going to play anything good to listen to, then they had no business in playing any music at all. And sure, there were other radio stations, none of them great but some of them better, but that would require the effort of deciding on a new station, changing the tuning, and all of the other technical bits that she felt far too lazy to get involved in.

Not to mention that she was new with this job, only since the beginning of the summer vacation, this amazing dream job [in theory at least], and she wasn't sure where the radio was located so that she could turn it off. It wasn't in the main office, and it wasn't anywhere she could find the damn thing. She had looked, in a vain attempt to have it stop echoing through the speakers in the whole store. She doubted the few teenage boys currently browsing the horror and macabre section were incredibly interested in listening to Paris Hilton singing.

She knew she wasn't.

Exhaling heavily, the redhead leaned her elbows onto the counter top of the display case she was seated behind, and let her chin rest into her palms. It had only been the first couple of hours of her shift, and she was already bored. If she had known that she wouldn't be busy, then she would have brought along a book. She was currently in the middle of a really good book, a novelization of the second Resident Evil video game, loaned to her by Rath, who insisted that she brush up on her knowledge if they were going to be going as the Redfields for Halloween. It had just been getting good, Claire had just run into the Tyrant, and things were about to get messy, and then--

"Excuse me?"

And that snapped her out of her reverie, making her jump a little and focus her eyes on the customer standing in front of her. A young woman, in her middle twenties maybe, blonde. Very cute. Very, very cute. Swallowing hard, Tatum straightened up a little, and plastered her best smile onto her face, praying it didn't look as awkward as it felt. "Hey, can I help you?" she asked, and the woman nodded her head, turning to motion in the direction of the romance section of the video store.

"There's a movie over there that I want to get, but I can't seem to reach the top shelf.. could you give me a hand?"

And they had told her this would happen, of course. It wasn't the first time it had happened, but it made her insides shrivel just the same. God, she hated heights. Why this woman thought that Tatum, all five feet and five inches of tiny Tatum, could help her reach the top shelf? The red head had no idea. But she supposed there was no time like the present to suck it up.

Climbing up onto unsteady pieces of furniture and fetching things from high shelves, what a dream occupation. Only the third hour on the job for today, and she was already getting a chance. Fabulous.

She half wished that someone else was sharing the shift with her, someone she could send over to up climb the wall after 50 First Dates, but there just wasn't, and so it was up to her. Time for Tatum to save the day. Yet again.

Ophelia probably would have written a song about it, had she known.

But for a pretty girl? It wouldn't hurt.

"No problem, just let me grab the step ladder.."

[Marianne Peters]

Marianne had never been so careful in picking her clothes. Generally, she threw on whatever was on the floor. Normally, this would mean some sort of peasant skirt, and a cozy sweater or tshirt, and of course, her beloved Birks. Today, however, she put some thought into her outfit; when she set out on foot for the video store, she was wearing blue jeans (she was careful not to wear her skinny ones), a plain blue tshirt, and a black zip-up hoodie. And, as the ultimate sacrifice, in the place of her Jesus Christ get-away boots were a pair of barely-worn Chuck Taylors, pinching away at her feet as all sneakers did. Her long, red hair was left in its natural waves; looking for a job or not, she didn't feel like straightening it. It fell around her shoulders, and she thought it looked fine the way it was.

As usual, she wore no makeup, and decided she was definitely presentable as she wandered along the streets to the video store. When she reached the door, she took a deep breath and stepped inside. She saw the other redhead who worked there, who must have been Seraphim's sister, Tatum. Sera had been right - they did indeed look more alike than she and Sera, or herself and Jackson. The older girl was on a stepladder, getting something off of a high shelf for a blonde woman. She decided it would be best not to interrupt, and stood to the side, waiting.

[Rath Donnelly]

Once she had managed to grab the DVD, and all without falling or knocking over every other DVD case on the shelf, Tatum was quite pleased with herself. She brought it to the cash, ringing the woman through, along with a couple of bags of chips and some candy, before she actually noticed Marianne standing toward the side. Seraphim had mentioned someone from her French club coming to apply for a job, and judging by the fact that the girl didn't exactly seem to be looking at anything in particular, Tatum figured this had to be her.

Glancing around at the otherwise empty store, the red-haired girl leaned onto the counter top smiling some. "Sera's friend, right?"

[Marianne Peters]

Marianne managed a nervous smile and nodded. "Yep, that's me. Marianne Peters," she explained, almost offering her a handshake but figuring they were too young to be so formal. "You must be Tatum, your sister said you were a ginger too," she said, giggling a little. "I was... well, I guess Seraphim told you, I'm looking for a job. I work hard, but, I am fifteen," she explained. "But Sera mentioned they hired fifteen year olds here?"

[Alex Harwood]

"Oh, yes. We gingers are rare around here, aren't we? I only know one other than me and my brother. Well, now two, counting you. Our curse is few and far between," Tatum replied, giggling a bit as well, shaking her head. "Honestly, I think we're the prettiest sort of girls. Ginger haters are just jealous, in my opinion," she added, as she shifted a bit and stood straighter behind the counter when the topic of business came up.

"She mentioned it, yeah. And I don't doubt you work hard! I mean, it's not like we're exactly doing a ton. What you just watched me do? Is about as hard as it gets. The pay isn't great, but it helps. And fifteen isn't a problem, although we've never actually had one. We had a sixteen year old here, but she quit when school started back up. Either way, I actually asked my boss, and she's cool with it, as long as you have your SIN and stuff ready."