undergrounds | 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!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"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.

"Ooookay."

Kenzi is from a tad too violent of a family line to think in terms of money. She's still walking on eggshells with the questions, but she feels a little less concerned that Abigail might start yelling at her if she asks it.

"So, like, how'd you do it?"

"Bought out their coven's meeting spot," she admits. It's not too bad. Nothing that they can't fix by just relocating. There are other Daybreaks in the area, she's sure, but they haven't been hostile. She promised retribution, so she had to deliver. But violence isn't in her nature.

"Means they're out of Enfield."

"Oh yeah. You're rich." Kenzi says it as if it's some kind of illness and scoots back into her chair from the leaned in position her concern eased her into.

"Well. At least there's one less coven to worry about. Right?"

She's actually making an attempt to keep things civil between them.

"Yeah. And we kept the high ground."

Money can't fix everything. Abigail knows that. But she sees no shame in using what she has available to end a situation as peacefully as possible.

"Yay us."

There is much less vivre in her tone than when she was concerned about Abigail's health. Disappointment? Hardly. Envy? More than likely...

"The last thing we need right now is giving Redbright a reason to come after us before we're really secure here."

And to her... Well. Money was the best weapon she had.

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

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject