undergrounds | It was a ball, it was a blast (OPEN)

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It was a ball, it was a blast (OPEN)

A: Library

Kenzi has been a busy little bee as of late - something that has gotten her a sizable hill of cash. (She doesn't do banks. Not when people like her are around to steal innocent folks identities.) However, for all her success, Kenzi has yet to find the goose what laid the golden egg.

Figuratively. Or maybe literally? She doesn't know yet. All she knows is that when Barnet was taken over and Jenny from the block's stuff became hers, she found a page of a book. At first she didn't think it was anything worth taking - but it was old, the writing almost like Old English, and therefore worth a quick glance.

What she saw there made her stuff it in her bra and wait until she was home to read it more thoroughly. It was torn from a spell book of some kind, that much was clear. One made by a Circle Midnight witch, by a Circle Midnight witch if what little she could read was any indication. The page told her that this book - wherever it was - could help her summon a Fae long before she was technically powerful enough to do it on her own.

Not that she was alone now. But she wasn't about to pull Nancy into her mess, and Abigail might have been their merry band's leader - but it didn't mean she trusted her beyond that role.

So Kenzi was trying to do some research.

It was a pretty amazing place in Kenzi's opinion. The British Library was near the King's Cross station, which didn't make it hard to find. And while the more accessible public areas were fantastic for the collections they had, what Kenzi wanted was in the basement. Specifically the basement below the basement. It was no secret in the supernatural community that the person in charge of the downstairs was...something else. Nobody knew exactly what. Some people suspected they were a dragon wearing human form, and that their hoard was more books than gold. The specifics of the rumors eluded her, but she wasn't here to learn about the owner.

The sub-basement was dank and musty, the lighting in the hallway was sparse and covering the rows and rows of books was floor to ceiling wire gates. Spell books were scattered among their ranks, and the feeling of old power leaking from the racks of books was heady. Whether or not they were white or black spells, Kenzi didn't care.

There was a good-sized room hidden behind the books with a thick oak table and four mismatched chairs of assorted fabrics and wear. It took her an hour or so to start picking out the oldest looking books and placing them on the table.

B: Tarot

Once again on Portobello, Kenzi has her fortune telling stall open for business. Her working name is printed on the cards she hands out from her stall as Madam Czigany - palms, runes and tarot readings. Everyone on the street knows her as the blond hippy Russian who was way too into wiccan stuff. They didn't know she was an actual witch, and they didn't need to. Neither did her customers, as far as she was concerned. It wasn't as if they cared.

Kenzi waited patiently under her covered booth at the table, alternatively smoothing out the thinning shawl she'd placed on top to cover the stains on the plastic top and shuffling her cards. People ate up this gimmick, so she wasn't anxious.

C: Stealing from a Dead Woman (a...again.)

Kenzi had a cousin (she has a lot of cousins doesn't she?) who used to work at the Kitterick hotel where Carmilla had kept herself, before it had become the decrepit mess it was now. When Anton (her cousin) told her suddenly the power was back on and that a bunch of people had been seen coming and going from the penthouse floor up until a few days ago - Kenzi figured she could at least start watching it and scoping out the place to see if she could maybe make a profit. (This is open to interaction!)

Once she realized that nobody was coming back to the place, Kenzi decided to call her very best friend - and the only other person interested in making some money this way that she knew right now.

The vampire's attendents had abandoned all of Carmilla's valuable and beautiful things in the penthouse and where ever the finery was, Kenzi only saw a profit to be made. She rented a truck to park in the loading bay of the hotel's kitchen, so as to transport things like the curtains and creepy chair with a little less effort. Though she didn't have any preliminary security set up to warn her of when someone might stumble upon their work, Kenzi had some nasty little spells ready to go if she needed to fight someone off.

She was also armed with her keen lies as well.

D: W-W-WILDCARD!!!

Make up your own if you feel up to it!

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"Hey!"

Abby actually smiles to see Kenzi. A proper, non-Widdowson smile. And she looks like a normal college-aged girl seeing a friend. Like things are just completely usual. Which is a strange feeling for her.

"Figured I'd put my spare time to good use, you know?"

And, well, she may or may not have decided on her mending injuries books first to try and take care of a forming scar. At least London has the right weather for her to be wearing a loose, light, but still long-sleeved shirt. It hides the bandages from her wrist to her elbow.

Kenzi's look brightens considerably when Abigail's does. She likes being, rarely, a positive influence on her friends and allies. It's nice to feel like you improve their mood - even if it's not your usual modus operandi.

"Riiight. You're not in school right now...

You do go to school right?"

Kenzi doesn't want to sound as if she's done her homework on Abigail. Even though she totally has. Before they ...started doing what they're doing, she was eyeing her as a mark.

"Middlesex University."

After all, she couldn't exactly not attend a good university. Unthank wouldn't have allowed that, even if she was legally able to make her own decisions about that.

Besides, it's a good move to make, all things considered. With a degree in finance, she can keep a coven running on the business side. Because, unfortunately, there was a business side. They needed space and supplies. This wasn't just some club.

These were people she needed to protect.

But that's not a subject she wants to talk about. So, instead, she flashes a grin at Kenzi. "Opinion time. Telekinesis or healing? Awesome or practical?" She knows she should go with the practical one for all their sakes, but the awesome one just sounds like so much fun.

"For the main priority, at least."

Kenzi snorts inelegantly. Middlesex, oh my God. English hilarity knew no bounds.

"I'm sorry it's just --"

Middlesex.

"What--"

Oh. Oh.

"Ah. Yes. That's the name of the university."

"I'm sorry, it's just so dumb."

Kenzi allows herself another inelegant snort before sobering quickly, as if all of the amusement was entirely false.

"But yes, go with the awesome. Being practical is for babies." Kenzi lisps on the last word, as if to over-enunciate how lame it was to be practical.

As she says it, she starts flipping through the books she has on the table - looking for torn pages.

Abby works in silence for a few minutes, flipping through her own set of books and taking down notes about telekinesis. It's a wonderful area of magic, though it's a complicated one. Still, knitting together flesh and smoothing burns was no less difficult. If anything, since it dealt with living tissue, it was harder.

"Hey." She lowers her voice, almost whispering. After all, things are dangerous. "Look, if you do any work for the coven? Be careful. They're willing to fight hard."

Abigail's whispering gets her attention. And she has no idea what Abigail is talking about. Kenzi has been on her own for years, even if she does still talk to her family members (and she knows they tell her mother everything they can). It doesn't count. It's not the same when you're freezing your ass off beneath an underpass with other homeless kids.

So she's not quite getting who 'they' are. Which makes her feel stupid.

Kenzi doesn't lean in close, anyone watching (and she is always in that mentality) would know they were talking. So she just lowers her head a little more, like she's really studying the page in front of her.

"Who? Aybreak-Day?"

Abby takes a deep breath and, then, slowly looks away from her book. She sits back a bit in her chair and carefully rolls up the sleeve of the loose, light shirt to show the wrapped arm beneath it. There was little she could say about it. All there really was... was the evidence she bore. But it was telling.

"Holy shit, Abby!"

It's the first time she's called her that to her face. Kenzi almost goes to grab her arm, but thinks better of it and her hands sort of hover around it as she scoots closer. The idea that someone was watching was very quickly forgotten.

"What happened?!"

"Tybalt helped me come up with the story of a firework accident." The name rolled off her tongue. That she so freely used the name of a fae didn't cross her mind. Then again, she also didn't consider that Kenzi might well not have any idea who she was talking about. The small smile on Abby's face probably said enough, though. Cute boy.

"Bit off more than I could chew with a few Daybreak members. One of them used fire magic. I don't know if she just panicked or if she meant to do this."

"Tybalt?" Kenzi pulls an incredulous face at the name. Not quite registering that he might be a Fae, but instead thinking that someone liked their old timey literature a little too much.

She'll focus on the Daybreak confrontation in a little bit.

"A friend of mine." Which might be overstating things, but... Well. Abby wants to be able to consider him a friend, so there's no harm in saying that much. "Pretty sweet guy."

"Coolness. So he helped you get out of it?"

She's expecting a story now Abby.

"Found me nursing my wound, actually," she said with a smile. "Helped me figure out what to tell the hospital."

"Geezum." Kenzi whispers in a small voice.

"This kind of thing happen to you a lot?"

She has a feeling...

"Sometimes. This one, though, wasn't a freak accident. Just covens clashing."

At least there was a real cause behind this. Not just something happening.

"Well that's... expected. I guess." She doesn't sound as if she likes the idea of Abigail being the lone frontman for the whole group anymore. Not with the physical evidence of what comes from it in front of her.

And yet, as much as she dislikes seeing consequences occur, she won't offer herself up on that alter too.

"So they knew who you were?"

Daybreak hitters. Who would've thunk?

"They did, and they didn't appreciate me being that close to their coven."

Which was, in a way, her own fault. But she needed to go through Enfield, make sure that people knew that it was now Midnight territory. Even if she wasn't going to force them out, they had to see a presence of the coven. These witches just... took offense.

She can't really blame them, ultimately. But that doesn't mean it didn't still hurt.

So this is what happens to people who are out. Kenzi shrugs back into her metaphorical closet a little more, it's safer in here.

"Dude, I'm sorry."

Her apology seems rather genuine. Maybe Kenzi does have a heart after all?

"More reason to figure out telekinesis right?" She's a bigger fan of going on the offensive than being defensive. Even if she loves healing magic when it's needed.

"They don't like sharing their space, apparently." She can smile as she says it, make it sound like a joke, but... She knows. Daybreak considers themselves the 'real' Circle, the only ones 'allowed' to have covens and to claim somewhere. It's going to be an uphill battle.

But it's worth it.

"Apparently." Kenzi agrees with only half the smile Abigail pulls. There's just one thing that has cropped up in her brain that she has to ask.

Only problem is, she doesn't know how to ask her fearless leader; so she stutters and hesitates as she asks it with a wince.

"Do you...I mean -- are you going to do something about it?"

"I had to."

After all, she'd stood on the staircase of her family's home and promised reprisal for any action against them. However, she had no desire to see blood running in the streets. More subtle methods were required. More peaceful.

"Wait you already did it?!"

Her voice raises several octaves in pitch at the end of her question. Kenzi realized it a little too late and her next words were a hissed whisper, but there was no anger in them - just worry.

"Abby, what the hell. That's what a coven is for," to help you get back at assholes.

"A coven is for much more noticeable movement," she murmurs. "We don't want violence or the appearance of it right now. We have to move quietly right now. So, I took care of it in a very small way."

And the best non-violent way she knew. With money.

It was a ball, it was a blast (OPEN)

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