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!

Threaded | Flat

After calling Nancy about needing some help with a job, Kenzi waited for her patiently at the ground floor in an alley by the hotel itself. Granted she wasn't as inconspicuous as she would like wearing a beanie, glasses and lurking in the mouth of the alley.

Maybe she had been taking lessons from Derek?

Kenzi kept looking down at her phone anxiously. What if Nancy wasn't going to show?

>> I'm outside.

It was the last text Kenzi sent Derek before sitting down on the curb outside her apartment with a backpack of ingredients for his Moonlight Jewelry. She was giving it to him for a lot less than it was normally, and Kenzi considered this charity more than anything.

So many people, so much bartering. Meaningless paper given value by a commonly accepted delusion exchanged for something of concrete value. She understands gold and silver, even if, ultimately, it is nearly the same thing. What use is shiny metal to someone who was hungry or cold? Still, silver and gold can be held. They have weight. Money... Well.

The cards are the strangest things.

The actual way of using them, she knows. It just seems so foolish. That money is, now, not even a thing a person touches or sees or counts. It's all left to computers and to the people who are in charge of those computers. The number of people who might cheat someone had been limited, yes, but that supposed that the few who were involved might not be criminally minded.

Yet, she can feel a sense of magic in the air.

Coming from a very unusual place. A little stand with someone claiming to be a fortune teller. How strange to find someone who might actually be capable of it here. Still, even a witch needs to fill her stomach.

Azula approaches, making use of how young she looks to mortals. It's easy to have a hint of a smile with a mix of a question at the corner of her lips as she draws closer. She watches a shuffle of the cards.

"Can you really tell the future?"

Everything about her, even as she goes for 'innocence', likely screams 'princess.' At least in the modern, extremely entitled rich girl sense. The question is almost genuine, but there's just a bit too much of a dry edge to her words to sell exactly what she's pitching. But it's close enough, she figures. She hasn't been among mortals for quite some time. It'll take getting used to.

Heiji took a seat right down in front of the stall (did Kenzi have a chair for her customers? Well, she did now -- where'd he get that stool from?). He propped his elbows up on top of the table and beamed over at its owner. Hi Kenzi.

"I'd like a reading, please! Probably a tarot reading. I mean, unless you're better at somethin' else."

He lowered his voice conspiratorially. Unfortunately, his whisper was rather loud. "Should I call you 'Madam'?"

Edited 2015-07-15 16:39 (UTC)

Great minds think alike.

Abigail noticed the few books already stacked at one end of the table, but that's pretty usual. So, she takes a spot on the opposite end of the table to start laying out her stuff. All of it is completely appropriate for even a Circle Daybreak witch to be reading. If someone doesn't know her face, they won't think anything of it. Which is a relief.

She has about seven books, but a look at the chapters they're each opened to reveals that there are only three subjects really being pursued. She has information in front of her about telekinesis, familiarity, and mending injuries. She's well aware she can't learn all three at once, no. But they're the most interesting subjects to her at present, and there's nothing wrong with reading about all of them, maybe trying them out, then deciding which feels like it will be the easiest to learn first.

A pale, worn-looking man in a white doctor's coat got one foot in the door and stopped. His arms were full of books from which little mini post-its exploded in a frenzy of bright reds, blues, and greens. Some of them looked more or less ordinary. Others were considerably older, with intricate spines and beautiful filigree. One of them was covered with a pale material stretched taut over its cover. The material did not look like leather.

"Hello. I hope you don't mind if I sit down for a spell." A spell, that was a good one. He managed to refrain from laughing at his own unintentional joke, but only just.

Kenzi had kept exactly 50% of all the loot retrieved from Carmilla's penthouse. Nancy made off with her fair share, but there were a lot of shiny, sparkley things currently decorating her apartment. Including a very lush dressing gown she had draped over a mannequin and a book that was so gaudy and encrusted with jewels that Kenzi couldn't pass it up.

And it was in a kind of victory celebration that Kenzi had gone out and gotten incredibly smashed a few days after doing so. And drunk Kenzi thought it was the best idea to bring a guy back to her place after only meeting him a few hours ago.

"This is me," she smiled in what she hoped was a sexy fashion before buzzing herself in.

"C'mon in, water's fine."

She's drunk, she'll think this is dumb in the morning.

She's hiding near the door with a baseball bat that has seen better days and a bottle of mace laced with silver that she fucking had and didn't use because everything happened too fast and what if he comes back?

Kenzi didn't even check to see if Derek read her message, she's just hoping at this point.

Threaded | Flat

CLOSED TO Nancy

CLOSED TO Derek

B

B

A

A

for Killian!

for Derek (post-Killian thread)