"Another day, another dollar..." Marceline sprinted down the sidewalk, her long green hair flying behind her as she moved, and vaulted the marble railing and dropped into the stairwell in a single graceful move. She absorbed the impact with her legs as she landed just outside the servant's entrance, a small red door set deeply into the wall at the bottom of a set of stairs leading below ground level.
It wasn't entirely showing off-she wasn't running late, but she wasn't nearly early enough for her liking. That was sufficient reason to demonstrate her parkour skills to her fellow pedestrians...not that she really needed a reason, she admitted to herself. She darted through the door, careful even in her haste to make sure she closed it firmly behind her.
Normally, she took a few minutes to chat with Kylie at the appointments desk before she went into the locker room to change into her uniform, just to get an idea of how busy the club was going to be before she started her shift. (And to catch up on the latest news of Kylie's extended family, which was a far better soap opera than anything she could find on television.) But today, she just darted past with an apologetic wave. She'd explain about the unreliability of Boston's mass transit system later.
She burst into the locker room with her blouse already halfway unbuttoned, almost wishing she'd worn her Supergirl t-shirt underneath just for visual effect...but there was nobody to see it anyway. Marceline was even later than she realized, if the other girls were already dressed. Crap. She ran to her locker and tossed her backpack in, then set to pulling off her clothes with an unseemly haste.
She dumped the ball of clothing into the bottom of the locker on top of her backpack, then grabbed her uniform from where it hung on the plastic hanger. She took it over to one of the changing benches and laid it out-from this point on, there really wasn't much Marceline could to do hurry. She'd just have to hope she wasn't as far behind as she seemed.
Marceline grabbed a bottle of silicone lube from one of the changing benches and squirted a palmful into her open hand. She set down the bottle and smeared the lube over her other hand, then worked it up and down her arms until she had a thin, slick coating up to her shoulders. She wished one of the other girls was there to help-this part always went easier with someone else lubing her body-but it wasn't the first time she'd done it solo.
Another squeeze of lube, this one applied to her legs. She took extra care over the soles of her feet, checking her toenails while she worked to make sure they were cropped short as usual. The last thing she needed was to poke a hole in her uniform with her toes. She stood carefully once she was done with this step-even with the no-slip flooring and regular parkour training, Marceline had trouble standing with diamond gel all over her feet.