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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[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.

[baisant]

Jean-Claude folds himself gracefully into a seat at the bar, inviting Kenzi to join him in the seat beside him. He has discretely chosen the seat away from the dancers so in order to speak with him, she must look at him and therefore away from them. One can never be too careful with a new vampire, after all. She is still learning, as it is.

"Welcome to Guilty Pleasures," he says, with the quirk of a smile. "You are welcome to ask any questions you like." He gestures towards the bar. "And order a drink, if you want." Although the taste of human food and drink will no longer satisfy her cravings, as well she already knows.

[kleptofaeniac]

Kenzi pulled a face thinking of eating human food or drink right now. She had tried it already and found that it basically tasted like ass now. Much to her sadness. Pizza was her everything!

"Soooo what am I supposed to do. I mean. I'm basically your slave or whatever now, right?"

She'd been dodging this question for a while now but she couldn't keep it inside any longer. Kenzi wanted to know - to really know - what she had gotten into bed with.

[baisant]

Jean-Claude raises something of an eyebrow at that. 'Basically your slave.' "You are my progeny," he replies, making certain to keep his voice as low and warm and as perfectly unreadable as it ever is. "And I am your master. I have, in a sense, created you. You owe your life to me. It is how I hold authority over you and everything you are. You will be compelled to follow any orders I give."

He raises an eyebrow at her. "It is lucky for you that I am not in the habit of giving orders unless I am given no choice. There are many other masters who are not nearly as lenient as myself." Belle Morte, Jean-Claude's own master, for one.

[kleptofaeniac]

Kenzi's train of thought followed Jean-Claude's and her next question voiced that. He might have to train some manners into her.

"Was yours?"

She wanted to know what kind of person she was dealing with here. She knew JC was the pitying sort - why else would he have turned her? But one trait did not a person make.

[baisant]

Jean-Claude offers her a small smile which could mean everything or nothing. It's a talent, and one that a vampire learns after they've secured a few centuries under their belts. Should he give her an honest answer? On one hand, it's his story, and he doesn't much like talking about it. On the other hand, she's his progeny now, and she's involved in his story. For better or worse.

"No," he answers, honestly. "She was not." And he lets his near lack of response and vague ambiguity speak for itself in that.

[kleptofaeniac]

Kenzi's mouth curls into a sympathetic frown. She hasn't known what it's like to be hurt by someone who had complete control...but her home life was nothing to be proud of.

There was a reason she ran away at thirteen and never looked back. Living on the streets was better than home.

"Sorry."

[baisant]

Jean-Claude offers another gallic shrug. "She let me go, in the end." Though she had taken centuries to loosen the leash before she gave it up entirely. "I have my own life now. And you have my word that I do not employ such tactics. Certainly not her tactics, for that matter."

"You need not worry about her shadow crossing your path, for that matter," he continues, for he had better clear that matter up as well. "She is old, and set in her ways. She will never leave France. And you will never enter her territory, if you know what is good for you."

[kleptofaeniac]

"Aw man, I never even got to see Paris."

Kenzi pouts dramatically before shrugging, almost mimicking Jean-Claudes own tilt of his shoulder. Whether she did it unconsciously or not was up for debate.

"Guess the rest of the world will have to do!"

It's subtle - at least she thinks so - but it's her way of testing how tight his leash on her is.

[baisant]

Jean-Claude regards her carefully, trying to determine just what she is saying and what she is getting at in not saying it.

"Let us first deal with this city, here," he responds. She has a lot to learn before he should think about loosening his lead. She is his progeny, after all. His responsibility. All that she does is a reflection of his efforts, his teachings. He must make sure he does not fail her.

[kleptofaeniac]

Kenzi's mouth twists like she got her answer but it doesn't look as if she's horribly disappointed or excited...a good middle ground maybe?

"Alright, alright. I won't push it."

Much, she thinks to herself.

There's a moment of panic on her face as she wonders if Jean-Claude can read her mind...

[baisant]

Jean-Claude's face is as impassive as it always is. Read her mind -- wouldn't she like to know... (No, he can't, Kenzi, he's just very good at reading people.)

"That would be in all of our best interests here, I think," he says, levelly. Knowing that he's got his hands full with her regardless as to how much she thinks she's behaving.

He waves his hand around the bar. "You may work here, if you like."

[kleptofaeniac]

"For realzies?"

Kenzi's whole face lights up in a momentary lapse of guardedness before she schools herself into something less excitable at the prospect of getting to distract herself. There was a time when she would have scoffed at the notion of working but now that she has the whole 'dead and hungry' thing going for her she's willing to take anything that would make her feel normal.

"What would I do?"