Knowing when it's time to leave the table (CATCH-ALL)

[kleptofaeniac]

(OPEN)

God it was slow today. She hadn't had a street fair go this badly in like... six months. There were always some dumb tourists looking to buy her garbage, but right now? She had a very barren deposit box and a lot of garbage that needed selling.

Kenzi was considering even taking off her wig she was that bored. She knew when she was thinking about not going method - that was when she was having a shit day. Her fingers idly flip through her tarot deck as she watches the crowd pass by her stall without any interest. Eventually...she starts looking at the deck and wonders what her own spread would be.

Kenzi has never - not once - read for herself. Either she's too freaked out by it or doesn't believe in it (the latter is far more likely). But right now...

"Fuck it," she grumbles and leans forward to start shuffling the deck. She has nothing better to do right now.

Kenzi does a three card spread. Recent past, present and future soon to come. It's one of her aunts old standbys and she knows it well enough.

As she turns over the cards, she likes less and less what she sees.

Four of Pentacles. Reversed.

The Chariot. Reversed.

And for the future...

Death. Upright.

"What the fuck?"

Is shakily whispered. Her typical fake accent is gone.


(OPEN)

The problem with having all your business taken away was that it meant you worked twice as hard. The irony was not lost on Kenzi. And she was trying to keep up with winning back the sheer volume of people who didn't want anything to do with her after Norrell got ahold of her and all her crap, but that was far easier said than done.

A month ago, Kenzi would have laughed in your face if you told her she'd be this far up shit creek.

Now she was just keen to stuff her face with pizza and drink her feelings away. Which, unfortunately, meant going out and getting food herself.

Instead of just getting it to go, Kenzi is relegating herself to doing this in public because it means less work right now. One large pepperoni pizza with extra cheese and tears. Well, not really. Vodka would be more accurate.

"This is my life."

Eating pizza at two in the morning and drinking more than anyone with a still-functioning liver had any right to.


(For Nancy)

Kenzi smacked her open palm against Nancy's door, listing to the right as she did. She hadn't been this drunk in ages, but then again - her life hasn't been this shit in ages either. She needed a friend. And she needed one bad. Someone to complain to and pet her head. Someone she could trust to stay by her side unlike some horrible bodyguards who will not be mentioned.

"Nancy! Nancy fo-fampsy! Open door!"

She didn't hear the whine in her voice. Not well at least. Kenzi could handle her liquor and thought she was just fine right now.

She was very. Very. Wrong.


(For Jean-Claude & Nancy)

This was it. The End.

Kenzi couldn't tell you what happened or how... not right now at least. All she knew was that she was bleeding. A lot. Later, if she lived, she would be able to tell you that some guy (she never even got to see his face) grabbed her from behind and told her to 'stop poking her little witch nose into things she should' and then... pain slicing through her back and her neck. Too hot and blistering her senses, she fell to the ground practically crippled and in shock.

She couldn't be dying. Not like this. Who would hold Nancy's hair back when she need to hurl?

But she is... and in the back of her mind, behind the pain, she knows it. And it's terrifying enough to get her to croak out in a breathless, weak voice:

"Help...please, someone..."

She doesn't care if she sounds pathetic - it doesn't even factor into this. Right now, survival is all she cares about.

WILDCARD

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[stauncherhearted]

God, what time was it? Nancy groaned and looked over at her phone- too early, still. She'd only gone to bed an hour ago. Rubbing her eyes with the heel of her palm, she slowly sat up. When her palms came back black, she grabbed a bathrobe and made for the door. By the time she was there, she could make out the origin of the noise: someone who thought that fo-fampsy was a great nickname.

Kenzi.

Undoing the locks, she opened the door and gestured for the drunk to enter. "Someone's drunk." She wasn't judging- she was the alcoholic, between the two of them. No, she was more than happy to have Kenzi come over. But what was worrying was that Kenzi was drunk alone. Nancy got drunk alone all the time, that was part of her charm. Kenzi drunk alone meant bad news.

So without wasting any time she slung an arm around her and steered her towards the couch.

"Tea, love?" She let go of Kenzi to rub at her neck where the results of a fae attack were fading, puncture wounds from the night only adding to the gruesome sight. It was too late (or too early) to bother trying to hide them, and it took more energy than she could give when she wasn't working.

[kleptofaeniac]

Kenzi tossed up her hands in glee and smiled as Nancy drew her inside. It was warm in her flat and Kenzi was totally not visiting her because she wanted more booze with friends instead of by herself.

"It's me! I'm drunk!"

Kenzi didn't even have the sense (or she just didn't care right now) to realize that Nancy looked particularly tired. Or beat up. Not yet at least. She wobbled unsteadily on her platform heels to the couch before flopping down onto it and giggling at the room spinning above her.

"If by tea you mean wine? Then, yes please."

[stauncherhearted]

She has to laugh. "No shit." Kenzi was a breath of fresh air, and y'know what? She could toss off her sleepy safe in favor of an impromptu girl's night. Just ignore that she's in a pair of sleep-shorts and t-shirt, that'd be best for all.

"Wine it is." With an affectionate ruffle of Kenzi's hair, knowing full-well she'd likely be holding it back, she trips over into the kitchen to return with two mugs and a full bottle of wine. Without wasting any time, she plops down next to Kenzi and fills each mug to the top. With Kenzi, she didn't need to be classy. Mugs of wine were the way to go, everyone knew that.

"Here you go. You should have called me if you were going out!" She doesn't chide her or anything, just friendly conversation.

[kleptofaeniac]

Kenzi hums contentedly as Nancy pets her head and kicks off her shoes sloppily and slowly, until she's greeted by a mug of wine that she carefully brings down to her level.

"Didn't go out."

She mumbles into her cup before sipping loudly and smacking her lips once she had enough to constitute a 'gulp'.

She's been drinking at home. Which is quite unlike her.

[stauncherhearted]

That's not good. Not good at all.

Nancy wrapped an arm around Kenzi's shoulder. So she didn't go out. That raised a million red flags for Nancy, who constantly drank alone. But it was one thing when she did it. It was another when Kenzi did. "Alright then, love. D'you want t'tell me what's wrong?" There had to be something wrong.

[baisant]

Jean-Claude has been known to walk the streets at night. When you do not need to sleep, what else is there to do to keep from boring yourself with the monotony of life but wander. Perhaps it is fate, one might say, that has brought him to such a place at such a time. Jean-Claude is not so certain he believes in any such thing. But he is there nonetheless.

And the first thing that he smells is the blood. That hot, copper and metallic warmth of it in the air. He can taste it, enough to know that something has happened. Something terrible. And like a moth to a flame, he finds himself drawn towards the smell of it, uncertain of what he'll find, uncertain that he shouldn't be getting the hell out of there before someone pins this on him.

That is, at least, until he hears the cry for help. And freezes in his place. Now he really wants to leave, and pretend he'd never noticed any of this at all. And yet he has clung on to a shred of his humanity, even after all these years, and it's telling him he cannot run. Swearing under his breath, he takes another step forward. And that's when he spots her, dumped in an alleyway just off the main sidewalk of the road.

He swears again and steps forward, moving to kneel beside her. "What is this? What has happened?" he asks. "Who has done this to you?" God, but there's so much blood. There's an animal part inside of him that just wants to feed, to lick it up off the pavement, let none of it go to waste. He holds himself back, but just barely.

[kleptofaeniac]

She doesn't register the questions. Not really. But she gets the gist of it.

"Tried to make my cat take a bath," Kenzi croaks out and giggles at the same time. Which only makes her wince in pain because movement - ow. Making jokes wasn't a good idea when you were bleeding out but it's the only way she knows how to cope with the fact that she is dying.

Kenzi whimpers at the prospect of her life ending and her eyes sluggishly track up to the stranger's face, asking silently for help before blurting:

"I don't wanna die. Please."

[baisant]

Jean-Claude clicks his teeth at her poor sense of humor, the soft tsk sound still loud in the silence of the night around them. He reaches to shift her slightly, to get a better look at her wounds, before he shakes his head.

"I could call you an ambulance," he says, sitting back on his feet, "but I fear that it will not come in time. You are losing too much blood. You have lost too much already." He can almost taste her heartbeat in his mouth, with all of her blood spilling out onto the pavement as it is.

[kleptofaeniac]

She tried not to cry when he moved her, but it made the pain in her back - which already felt like it was on fire - absolutely gut-wrenching. Kenzi moaned pathetically as it subsided to the heat being leached out of her and looked up at Jean-Claude like she was trying to memorize his face. It'd probably be the last thing she saw.

"At least you're pretty," her filter may or may not have stopped working. Or she might just not care to keep her thoughts to herself anymore.

In that instant, it seemed the truth of her mortality finally hit her and Kenzi spasm'd valiantly in an effort to move off the cold ground.

"I can't - I can't die."

As if that would make an ambulance magically appear.

[baisant]

Jean-Claude raises one delicate eyebrow as he gazes down at her. "Can't you?" he asks, letting the question hang in the air, before continuing his point. "Whether you want to or not, you are, ma chère. You are dying, even now. And for that, I am sorry."

He raises a hand to caress her face, brushing a lock of hair from her eyes. "It's a pity, for a charming little thing like you to go to waste like this. All this blood..." He glances down to where he's basically kneeling in the stuff. It's a good thing his trousers are black, he's always had a hell of a time with stains.

[acrookedchild]

"I know that look," Abigail murmured as she came up to the stand. After all, it never hurt to check in on Kenzi. Especially with everything that was going on. "What's happened?"

Because it was a look like a ghost had been seen. Something Abigail understood all too well.

[kleptofaeniac]

"Nothing!" Kenzi is too quick to answer and looks up at Abigail with a smile that is too fake - even for Kenzi - to even pass for real.

There is none of her usual slyness about her now, and she hurriedly shuffles the cards she was reading back into the deck.

"Nothing happened. What's uh...happening with you?"

That was horrible.

[acrookedchild]

"Oh, my Circle is being targeted and dragged in front of the Night Council for things that have only just been declared illegal," Abigail murmured with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.

Her gaze became serious again in an instant.

"I just... wanted to make sure you're okay."

[kleptofaeniac]

"Oh that's all?"

Kenzi returns the sarcasm in kind and smiles as she does. Abigail was a good person, no matter how you looked at it. It was nice of her to check up on her...especially after the visit to Norrell's.

"Y'know. As okay as I can be."

My business is ruined, I barely have any cash, I don't think I'm cut out for this whole 'friendship' thing and I'm seriously considering moving to Spain.

[acrookedchild]

"If there's anything I can do... you know you can ask, right?"

Not that she had a lot to offer now. She was playing a long game with the Council, testing what she was able to do there. Perhaps, eventually, she could help her sisters properly.

For JC and Nancy

[kleptofaeniac]

Kenzi had been falling in and of consciousness for what felt like hours. She thought being turned would at least give her some mojo to get to Nancy's place but it turns out if you're still bleeding out like a stuck pig after a bite you'll continue to bleed out.

The only reason she knew where she was, was thanks to Nancy's flat door. The numbers of her place were ingrained in her mind to the point of recognizing them even in the least cognizant moments.

"Nan...Nan open the door."

In her mind she figured Jean-Claude wouldn't be able to convince Nancy to let him in. Clearly she had to help. As much as she could.

[stauncherhearted]

Nancy had been in then midst of getting ready when the knock came. putting down her curling iron, she moved to the door as she heard the weak voice call. Kenzi. which meant Nancy was going to drop everything for her.

she opened the door and barely had time to recognize there was a man with Kenzi. She saw blood and her friend was pale and that meant- "Kenzi- Jesus. get her inside, lay her on the couch- let me get something to slow the blood loss. I've got replenishment in the cupboard-" she was already ushering both of them inside without even considering that the man was a vampire. because Kenzi was in trouble. a lot of trouble.

"call 999." moving into the kitchen Nancy grabbed her hand towels and a large bottle of blood replenishment and, darted back into the living room. Once there, she started trying to stop the blood. Kenzi was hurt. Kenzi was dying. and she knew already why: because of her.

[baisant]

Jean-Claude had carried her to her friend's flat, at her request. It had been difficult, getting her there. Not because it was difficult to carry her, but because it was difficult to avoid people on the streets while doing so. He can only imagine what it might look like, what the pair of them might look like, trailing blood down the sidewalk. Any good Samaritan would have called for an ambulance and that is the last thing anyone should be doing right now.

His thoughts are confirmed as Kenzi's friend -- Nancy, he thinks he remembers her saying it was -- begins to bustle about, in an attempt to save her. And maybe, at this point, they could. She's lasted this long as it is, she's a fighter. With the help of his blood, it's possible that she might make it to a hospital, that they might able to save her life at this point. But they have made a deal, and it is too late to back out on it now.

As she invites him inside, he does as he's bid and lays her down on the couch. But he draws the line as she starts to try and save her friend. Reaching out to take her hands in his own. "You must stop," he says, schooling his voice to be as gentle as he can.

[stauncherhearted]

Nancy bats his hands away without a second thought.

"You've got to help me," she insists, kneeling down next to Kenzi, holding the towels against her stomach. She takes one of Kenzi's hands and places it over the towels. "Kenzi- stay with me. I've got you now, it's alright. Just keep the pressure." She uncaps the bottle of blood replenishment and holding it to her lips. "You've got to drink this, it'll help- why aren't you calling A&E?" She turns to look at the strange man in her apartment.

With one hand, she reaches for Kenzi's, holding it tightly to her chest. She won't be working tonight, no way in hell. "I've got you, my dear. He's calling 999. Just talk to me." God gods, she's cold. She's cold and shaking and pale. "What happened? Can you tell me what happened?" Without waiting for Kenzi's answer, she turns back to the man.

"If you aren't helping, get the fuck out of my flat." It wasn't an order, he was thusly, welcome to stay. "But my best friend is dying and I won't let her, do you hear me?" She sets the bottle down and it rattles, as do a few other items around her apartment. But Nancy doesn't notice, or if she does, she doesn't care, because her entire world is on her couch right now bleeding out. "Because I don't have time for this. ID on't know who you are, or how you found her, but you've got to help me save my best friend. Please." She spares him a glance, her green eyes obscured by the tears that have already started to track down her cheeks.

[kleptofaeniac]

To Nancy's questions she only lolls her head listlessly towards Jean-Claude, as if trying to explain "He's saving me" with a gesture.

Kenzi was out of it, to be sure but she could hear Nancy freaking the fuck out and beyond the fact that she was dying and bleeding all over everything she could only really register that Nancy was upset. So it was clearly her job to fix it.

"Nan, babe. Chill."

Okay, maybe not the best talk-down in the world. Kenzi's hand twitched feebly in Nancy's grip and her smile was watery as she tried to speak clearly.

"JC over here is helpin'. Pinky promise."

For JC

[kleptofaeniac]

"You own a strip joint?"

It'd been a few days since she was turned. By now she had gotten more than a little curious about what exactly her sire did for 'work' not that she suspected he needed too. Weren't older vampires supposed to be living in the lap of luxury and generally waste their time having sex and eating constantly?

Still. When Jean-Claude had told her he owned a club, she had expected something a lot more ... well. Vampire-y.

<3 !!!

[baisant]

Jean-Claude turns to her with something of a gallic shrug, which could mean everything and nothing. It's always hard to tell with him, really. "Technically it's a club," he responds with something of a quirk of a smile, nodding her inside.

Perhaps older vampires were supposed to be living in the lap of luxury, well-respected, well-liked, well-feared. But Jean-Claude was none of those things. For he had made the mistake of falling in love, and paid the price for it. So yes, now he owns a strip club. An all-male strip club. Generally. (There were a few nights where he brought some ladies as well, just to broaden his clientele and all.)

[kleptofaeniac]

Kenzi followed diligently, not wanting to ever give cause for Jean-Claude to abuse his influence over her. She wasn't sure just what to think of him yet. On the one hand, he saved her life and she owed him that much but on the other hand he was a vampire.

Which...she had no room to talk now.

Once she steps inside she's greeted with the sight of some very handsome and muscled men-folk walking around without shirts on. She stutters to a halt, balancing precariously in her truly ridiculously tall heels while practically drooling at the sight.

"Yum...," she trailed off, watching with fascination. It then occurred to her that she was ogling her food - and while staring at men with naked lewd appreciation wasn't ever going to bother her, the food part did. Kenzi quickly averted her eyes as she realized it.

[baisant]

Jean-Claude smiles slightly at her as he watches her turn her gaze away after a moment. "Some of them are vampire as well," he offers. "Not all of them will be a temptation. Though you'll want to stay away from Stephen for the time being." He does not need her getting herself addicted to fae blood when she's only just starting to get used to the idea of human blood besides.

He turns back to the nearest dancer as he greets him with a smile, Jean-Claude smiling and inclining his head in turn. "'Yum' is not a bad way of putting it, though, no."

After a moment longer, he turns and leads her over to the bar to the side of the room, and away from the maximum temptation, for the time being at least.

[kleptofaeniac]

The caveat of staying away from Stephen immediately registers in her mind as a 'do it now' because Kenzi never did like listening to rules, but she's seen a vampire get addicted to fae blood and it's something like crack and heroin and meth all rolled into one and she's seen people strung out on that before.

It's enough to make her forgo her policy of 'doing what she wants'.

"No drinking Stephen, got it." she murmured as an aside before following after Jean-Claude and pointedly not looking in the direction of the man shaking his ass in booty shorts.