Post by William on May 8, 2019 8:40:51 GMT -5
((scene rped on 4/21/2019 in Morze Coast, Discord))
The Vault. It was ideal for crossing paths without partying, lurking, or drawing too much attention. It was the location William had asked her to meet him at the last two time they'd come across one another.
Areas were divided by bookshelves like walls that were only partly committed to making sections out of the main area. It was only along the right hand wall that there were more private booths, which is exactly what William had opted for. His shirt looked like it would smell of starch because it stood up with the same rigidity of a soldier. He'd gone with powdered blue, it stood out against the supple, dark skin of his throat. The black five o'clock stubble was normal, as was the slightly darker mark beneath his eyes that said he'd been reading too much. He had been reading too much. His glasses were held in one hand but the sides of his nose still had the impression of grooves from where they had sat.
He paused in reviewing the ledger, two fingers of his left hand massaging the bridge of his nose. She'd be there any minute.
Kenzie...did not look like the type of person who would frequent The Vault. Bright white streaks framed a face only a few shades darker, and cool blue eyes that scanned the patrons until she found the one she was looking for. A bow-tie blouse wearing spinster sniffed as she stalked down the aisle, her reclaimed favorite boots blending into ripped jeans, and drew the hunter up short. Matte pink lips quirked upwards, and she leaned in, whisper carrying just a little farther than propriety. "That thing on page 32 is no joke...did it to my guy last week, and now he's just wrapped around my finger." She could see the grin in her head, and was thankful he wasn't close enough to hear.
While the lady was still huffing up her glasses, Kenzie was dropping into a seat across from William, and resisting the urge to kick her heels up on the edge of the table. Instead, she slipped a hand into the pocket of her leather jacket, and placed, across the pages of his ledger, a daisychain of pink carnations barely even bruised and still emitting their subtle scent. It wasn't the first time, not even close, and she rubbed her fingers across the seam of her jeans as soon as she let go.
One of his eyebrows hiked upward as she spoke, but his eyes didn't look up. It wasn't until she took her seat that he regarded her with a rueful smile, one hand smoothing over the ledger's page as he appraised her. She was in good spirits, that meant he could be in good spirits.
He motioned with two fingers to the Spinster who promptly worked on bringing them a proper round.
"You're too relaxed for bad news. That's one of your tells." He said, putting one elbow to the face of the table, forearm pointed her way and then his palm blossoming up to her, "Your charm never changes.
"You're the onl - almost the only person who gets that. Everyone else just seems to think I'm a smartass all the time." With a sigh, she picked the flowers up, and draped them across his palm, her hand lingering over them for a moment, just the tips of her black tipped nails and the edge of her palm touching his. "Pink carnations, everyone stepped out for a smoke, and I was able to grab them before the ceremony finished. Just how you like them." Not that she knew why.
"How are you?" Arguably, there should have been pleasantries first but that wasn't how it went. Delivery first, when there was one, and then - they could catch up. It had been a few months, since she'd seen him, and she licked her lips, those blue eyes only meeting his gaze for a moment before she glanced away.
"See? I knew you were clever. I don't waste time with idiots." There was a pause, a compliment half mixed with a warning, "I'm glad you're not an idiot." He behaved as if the item were a pair of tickets to a local fundraiser and not what held the breath of the month on edge. The circle of carnations dropped like a spread-leg bookmark on top of the ledger.
The waitress came by with the drinks, just as she asked how he was. One pleasantry following the wake of another, apparently. He smiled and then lifted his glass, a toast without camaraderie, and then sipped it. After setting the glass down his fingers drummed the edge of the table, "Better now, better for a little while, anyway. I have a few prospects lined up." Then he reached into his pocket, withdrawing an envelope that he offered as if it was a loaf of bread, "If you're interested."
"Me too." She took it for what it was, and sat back, bringing the glass to her lips for a taste. Not that she was expecting much, or had even really looked at the drink. If she'd been an idiot, she suspected she would have been a decade dead and in a ditch somewhere. William did not suffer fools.
"When am I not interested? This is what I do, right? Find things?" There was a flash of bright white teeth as she took the envelope, and glanced inside. "I meant other than whatever it is you have me seeking out these things for. How are you?" She might have a purpose in asking. Maybe it was just idle conversation. It was hard to tell with her, for most people.
"Sometimes. Sometimes you get distracted, sometimes things come up," he gave her a smile, it was bittersweet, without accusation or approval, just understanding. She asked how he was and his shoulders bunched up and then relaxed, followed by the smell of oak and cedar. He was like that. William was like a cabin, a promise of some place wide and secret, reserved and far away. His dark fingertips ran over the petals of the ring of carnations, his other still holding the glass of red fluid.
"I am well, just without any surprises." His fingers stroking the petals dropped to the tabletop. He took another swallow and set it down, "I hate to sound like a broken record, but I need a lock of hair from a virgin." There was a pause and he said, as if reciting some lecturing, "She must be of age... not a child."
"Just criminals. Usually." It followed a look of surprise, and then a short, sharp laugh. "Too much time out among humans and dogs. I forget how....open things are here." That was, however, her purpose. And if she were honest, the place was a little...traditional for her. Kenzie was pretty sure he wouldn't care much about her biggest piece of news, as long as it didn't effect her work.
"Right. No kids. I think there's a nunnery not too far. There's usually a novice or two. They're getting harder to find, otherwise..." Virgins. And nuns, really. Her fingers raked back through those streaked tresses, and she took another swallow, eyes closing for a moment as she let the taste linger on her tongue before swallowing. "I...met someone." Understatement of the year, possibly.
William was trying to make it a point that her biggest news wasn't his business. The starch of his collar, the employee-employer atmosphere, it was all done with intent. He never shared his biggest piece of news, though there must have been something. Usually he seemed more lean, more hungry, more attentive. Perhaps she had just done so well he'd grown lazy.
"What, with the priests raping them, yes, it may be difficult. Just make sure?" He said it with an unnecessary weight, as if she didn't already know. He sipped his drink, swallowing without a flinch as she talked about meeting someone. His eyes went to her, his head was at an angel. The color of his eyes was such a dark brown that at night they were bedroom eyes, black marbles that pinned their attention on her. "Congratulations. When's the funeral?"
"I'll make sure. It was just the first time...you'd think you could trust a nun" The response was wry, twisted with a sardonic smile and another swallow of crimson liquid. You couldn't trust anyone. She made her living off people who promised to be somewhere and didn't show. Or did things they shouldn't. Lied. Cheated. Stole. Killed. And in return, sometimes, she did the same.
She never really assumed she was doing well enough. Blame her father. That drive to be the best, to push harder, was so ingrained as to be frightening. Unless you knew how to direct it, which he seemed to. "I...actually don't think there's going to be one. He's a dragon." She met his gaze a little more securely, the tip of her tongue tapping over a recessed fang. "He was supposed to be a bounty. The bounty." William knew about her - complicated - relationship with Spider. Before he'd died that was.
"Just make sure," he asserted, as the final bookmark of that part of the conversation. They didn't need to revisit it, they both already knew. His weight slumped to the back of the booth's rest as he listened.
"I'm not your father, Kenzie," but he was something. Some in between. Some not-lover, not-father, not-brother, not-something that she would always have. A Sire. There was a roll of his hand, a frown, before he spoke, "I can't approve. A dragon is just... it's sort of ridiculous, don't you think?" Of course, William would have wanted her with someone more like him. Someone more like what was in town, accepted and understood. She had always been like a rebel teenager, dating a weirdo and thinking it would end just fine. She must have expected this response since, like he said, she wasn't an idiot.
She'd always been a rebel. The hair, the clothes - she liked them, but they also made sure people dismissed her. They assumed she was a punk kid, they looked over her and then they were all so surprised when she hauled them in. "I know you're not, William. He wouldn't trust me with these jobs." Blunt, but true. Her father had never valued her - the gift, or curse, William had granted wouldn't have changed that in the slightest. It probably would have made it worse.
"He was raised by vampires. Different breed but...still..." She hadn't expected him to be thrilled about it, no. They were supposed to stick to their own kind. Still - it was better than being with a dog, wasn't it? "He's not...I don't know what dragons are like. He's smart. A mercenary." Why was she still trying to convince him? Kenzie knew better than to try to change his mind. "I haven't told him you're here. He thinks I've never been to the area before..." -
"Don't let him get in the way," it was the closest thing to a warning that she received about it. The dragon was not part of the family, he was some bedroom addition, some playmate she was entertaining. He was maybe more than that but to William, to the sudden announcement, he took it with a mild grimace and a sip of his drink. This phase, too, would pass.
"I'm not in a hurry to get to know him, I don't know that he brings value... to me." William's hand checked his throat, he looked preoccupied with the ledger and then added, "but it it good. You being happy, or pursuing that which will make you happy."
"I won't. I never have." Of course, this was a little different, but she could tell William was in no mood to hear about Zack. Kenzie took another swallow, leaving just one left. These meetings didn't last long, as a rule, save for the rare occasion when she needed to find a new item, or, more rarely, screwed up.
"He's going to want to meet you. Once I tell him." The implication was clear that this was her plan, and sooner rather than later. "Thank you. I'm trying. All work, and no play, right?" Hysterical, given who she was talking to. "Was there anything else you needed from me?"
William appeared unimpressed, unaffected, when underneath the skin of the situation was a small, infected irritation. She didn't bring her little flings to his door, not even some of the boyfriends she had and threw away. She was preparing him, she was setting the table. She was trying to tell him this one may stay.
"When there is an engagement ring," William said, motioning the waitress to refill their glasses. He looked back at her, "When there is an engagement ring, I will meet him. I can't be bothered with your romances." Not that she had many, just the idea of being a father-like filter for them was annoying. He wasn't her father. He was her father. He was her Sire. It was something else completely.
Back to business. "Next month is the month of a lock of hair from a virgin. Try not to make the bounty a complicated talk for later on down the road?" A gentle warning that didn't feel gentle. He took a swallow.
"I'll try. He - shouldn't be." She hoped. There was no reason Zack should interfere with her duties. He understood she had a job to do. So did he. And for the little she knew about these little errands...why would he care? She did not address the rest - rings and whether he could be bothered to deal with her...affairs. It was, predominantly, a business relationship. For all they were Sire and Childe...William wasn't the affectionate type. Kenzie hadn't been either, although that was more from having it trained out of her.
"Nunnery novice. On it, Boss." Tossing back the last of her drink, she gave him a nod, and moved to rise from her seat. "I'll let you know when I have it. And you know how to get a hold of me if you need to. For...whatever reason." She wouldn't actually leave until she was dismissed.
"I believe in you," it dripped with a playful sarcasm. She held his gaze, but only briefly. His eyes fell back to the ledger, to the carnations, to a held breath of what would happen next.
"Do send a text." He sipped his drink and behaved as if he didn't see that she was leaving, though he must have known she was going. He knew it the same way she knew when he arrived.
"Of course you do. You made me." At least he seemed to appreciate her efforts. Kenzie wasn't stupid, as they'd established. A part of her wondered what would happen if she grabbed the ledger... if she made so much as a concerted effort to read it. The rest of her contented herself with the knowledge that she didn't, really, need to know. Her sire bid her to find things. Specific things. She'd been doing it long enough to recall the entire list, and when each was needed, if she'd a mind. But on this subject, Kenzie's notorious drive for answers seemed quiet. That William wanted them was enough.
"Of course. Until then." The barest sketch of a salute and she was headed back the way she'd come, blowing kisses at the scandalized matron from earlier.
The barest sign of affection followed. Most would have said he gave her nothing. As clean cut as it should have been, there wasn't. Fingers lingered. Gazes lingered, knew it was a hollow opportunity.
"Until then," he smiled, sadly at how well she had affected the hostess. William did what he always did, he looked down at the pages for truth and found it. He sipped his drink as Kenzie slipped out the door, a little wild card he appreciated. Problem was, William worked with a deck. He cleaned his throat, his mind, and prepared for the next.
Maybe she'd be different. She felt like an Ace, not a Joker.
The Vault. It was ideal for crossing paths without partying, lurking, or drawing too much attention. It was the location William had asked her to meet him at the last two time they'd come across one another.
Areas were divided by bookshelves like walls that were only partly committed to making sections out of the main area. It was only along the right hand wall that there were more private booths, which is exactly what William had opted for. His shirt looked like it would smell of starch because it stood up with the same rigidity of a soldier. He'd gone with powdered blue, it stood out against the supple, dark skin of his throat. The black five o'clock stubble was normal, as was the slightly darker mark beneath his eyes that said he'd been reading too much. He had been reading too much. His glasses were held in one hand but the sides of his nose still had the impression of grooves from where they had sat.
He paused in reviewing the ledger, two fingers of his left hand massaging the bridge of his nose. She'd be there any minute.
Kenzie...did not look like the type of person who would frequent The Vault. Bright white streaks framed a face only a few shades darker, and cool blue eyes that scanned the patrons until she found the one she was looking for. A bow-tie blouse wearing spinster sniffed as she stalked down the aisle, her reclaimed favorite boots blending into ripped jeans, and drew the hunter up short. Matte pink lips quirked upwards, and she leaned in, whisper carrying just a little farther than propriety. "That thing on page 32 is no joke...did it to my guy last week, and now he's just wrapped around my finger." She could see the grin in her head, and was thankful he wasn't close enough to hear.
While the lady was still huffing up her glasses, Kenzie was dropping into a seat across from William, and resisting the urge to kick her heels up on the edge of the table. Instead, she slipped a hand into the pocket of her leather jacket, and placed, across the pages of his ledger, a daisychain of pink carnations barely even bruised and still emitting their subtle scent. It wasn't the first time, not even close, and she rubbed her fingers across the seam of her jeans as soon as she let go.
One of his eyebrows hiked upward as she spoke, but his eyes didn't look up. It wasn't until she took her seat that he regarded her with a rueful smile, one hand smoothing over the ledger's page as he appraised her. She was in good spirits, that meant he could be in good spirits.
He motioned with two fingers to the Spinster who promptly worked on bringing them a proper round.
"You're too relaxed for bad news. That's one of your tells." He said, putting one elbow to the face of the table, forearm pointed her way and then his palm blossoming up to her, "Your charm never changes.
"You're the onl - almost the only person who gets that. Everyone else just seems to think I'm a smartass all the time." With a sigh, she picked the flowers up, and draped them across his palm, her hand lingering over them for a moment, just the tips of her black tipped nails and the edge of her palm touching his. "Pink carnations, everyone stepped out for a smoke, and I was able to grab them before the ceremony finished. Just how you like them." Not that she knew why.
"How are you?" Arguably, there should have been pleasantries first but that wasn't how it went. Delivery first, when there was one, and then - they could catch up. It had been a few months, since she'd seen him, and she licked her lips, those blue eyes only meeting his gaze for a moment before she glanced away.
"See? I knew you were clever. I don't waste time with idiots." There was a pause, a compliment half mixed with a warning, "I'm glad you're not an idiot." He behaved as if the item were a pair of tickets to a local fundraiser and not what held the breath of the month on edge. The circle of carnations dropped like a spread-leg bookmark on top of the ledger.
The waitress came by with the drinks, just as she asked how he was. One pleasantry following the wake of another, apparently. He smiled and then lifted his glass, a toast without camaraderie, and then sipped it. After setting the glass down his fingers drummed the edge of the table, "Better now, better for a little while, anyway. I have a few prospects lined up." Then he reached into his pocket, withdrawing an envelope that he offered as if it was a loaf of bread, "If you're interested."
"Me too." She took it for what it was, and sat back, bringing the glass to her lips for a taste. Not that she was expecting much, or had even really looked at the drink. If she'd been an idiot, she suspected she would have been a decade dead and in a ditch somewhere. William did not suffer fools.
"When am I not interested? This is what I do, right? Find things?" There was a flash of bright white teeth as she took the envelope, and glanced inside. "I meant other than whatever it is you have me seeking out these things for. How are you?" She might have a purpose in asking. Maybe it was just idle conversation. It was hard to tell with her, for most people.
"Sometimes. Sometimes you get distracted, sometimes things come up," he gave her a smile, it was bittersweet, without accusation or approval, just understanding. She asked how he was and his shoulders bunched up and then relaxed, followed by the smell of oak and cedar. He was like that. William was like a cabin, a promise of some place wide and secret, reserved and far away. His dark fingertips ran over the petals of the ring of carnations, his other still holding the glass of red fluid.
"I am well, just without any surprises." His fingers stroking the petals dropped to the tabletop. He took another swallow and set it down, "I hate to sound like a broken record, but I need a lock of hair from a virgin." There was a pause and he said, as if reciting some lecturing, "She must be of age... not a child."
"Just criminals. Usually." It followed a look of surprise, and then a short, sharp laugh. "Too much time out among humans and dogs. I forget how....open things are here." That was, however, her purpose. And if she were honest, the place was a little...traditional for her. Kenzie was pretty sure he wouldn't care much about her biggest piece of news, as long as it didn't effect her work.
"Right. No kids. I think there's a nunnery not too far. There's usually a novice or two. They're getting harder to find, otherwise..." Virgins. And nuns, really. Her fingers raked back through those streaked tresses, and she took another swallow, eyes closing for a moment as she let the taste linger on her tongue before swallowing. "I...met someone." Understatement of the year, possibly.
William was trying to make it a point that her biggest news wasn't his business. The starch of his collar, the employee-employer atmosphere, it was all done with intent. He never shared his biggest piece of news, though there must have been something. Usually he seemed more lean, more hungry, more attentive. Perhaps she had just done so well he'd grown lazy.
"What, with the priests raping them, yes, it may be difficult. Just make sure?" He said it with an unnecessary weight, as if she didn't already know. He sipped his drink, swallowing without a flinch as she talked about meeting someone. His eyes went to her, his head was at an angel. The color of his eyes was such a dark brown that at night they were bedroom eyes, black marbles that pinned their attention on her. "Congratulations. When's the funeral?"
"I'll make sure. It was just the first time...you'd think you could trust a nun" The response was wry, twisted with a sardonic smile and another swallow of crimson liquid. You couldn't trust anyone. She made her living off people who promised to be somewhere and didn't show. Or did things they shouldn't. Lied. Cheated. Stole. Killed. And in return, sometimes, she did the same.
She never really assumed she was doing well enough. Blame her father. That drive to be the best, to push harder, was so ingrained as to be frightening. Unless you knew how to direct it, which he seemed to. "I...actually don't think there's going to be one. He's a dragon." She met his gaze a little more securely, the tip of her tongue tapping over a recessed fang. "He was supposed to be a bounty. The bounty." William knew about her - complicated - relationship with Spider. Before he'd died that was.
"Just make sure," he asserted, as the final bookmark of that part of the conversation. They didn't need to revisit it, they both already knew. His weight slumped to the back of the booth's rest as he listened.
"I'm not your father, Kenzie," but he was something. Some in between. Some not-lover, not-father, not-brother, not-something that she would always have. A Sire. There was a roll of his hand, a frown, before he spoke, "I can't approve. A dragon is just... it's sort of ridiculous, don't you think?" Of course, William would have wanted her with someone more like him. Someone more like what was in town, accepted and understood. She had always been like a rebel teenager, dating a weirdo and thinking it would end just fine. She must have expected this response since, like he said, she wasn't an idiot.
She'd always been a rebel. The hair, the clothes - she liked them, but they also made sure people dismissed her. They assumed she was a punk kid, they looked over her and then they were all so surprised when she hauled them in. "I know you're not, William. He wouldn't trust me with these jobs." Blunt, but true. Her father had never valued her - the gift, or curse, William had granted wouldn't have changed that in the slightest. It probably would have made it worse.
"He was raised by vampires. Different breed but...still..." She hadn't expected him to be thrilled about it, no. They were supposed to stick to their own kind. Still - it was better than being with a dog, wasn't it? "He's not...I don't know what dragons are like. He's smart. A mercenary." Why was she still trying to convince him? Kenzie knew better than to try to change his mind. "I haven't told him you're here. He thinks I've never been to the area before..." -
"Don't let him get in the way," it was the closest thing to a warning that she received about it. The dragon was not part of the family, he was some bedroom addition, some playmate she was entertaining. He was maybe more than that but to William, to the sudden announcement, he took it with a mild grimace and a sip of his drink. This phase, too, would pass.
"I'm not in a hurry to get to know him, I don't know that he brings value... to me." William's hand checked his throat, he looked preoccupied with the ledger and then added, "but it it good. You being happy, or pursuing that which will make you happy."
"I won't. I never have." Of course, this was a little different, but she could tell William was in no mood to hear about Zack. Kenzie took another swallow, leaving just one left. These meetings didn't last long, as a rule, save for the rare occasion when she needed to find a new item, or, more rarely, screwed up.
"He's going to want to meet you. Once I tell him." The implication was clear that this was her plan, and sooner rather than later. "Thank you. I'm trying. All work, and no play, right?" Hysterical, given who she was talking to. "Was there anything else you needed from me?"
William appeared unimpressed, unaffected, when underneath the skin of the situation was a small, infected irritation. She didn't bring her little flings to his door, not even some of the boyfriends she had and threw away. She was preparing him, she was setting the table. She was trying to tell him this one may stay.
"When there is an engagement ring," William said, motioning the waitress to refill their glasses. He looked back at her, "When there is an engagement ring, I will meet him. I can't be bothered with your romances." Not that she had many, just the idea of being a father-like filter for them was annoying. He wasn't her father. He was her father. He was her Sire. It was something else completely.
Back to business. "Next month is the month of a lock of hair from a virgin. Try not to make the bounty a complicated talk for later on down the road?" A gentle warning that didn't feel gentle. He took a swallow.
"I'll try. He - shouldn't be." She hoped. There was no reason Zack should interfere with her duties. He understood she had a job to do. So did he. And for the little she knew about these little errands...why would he care? She did not address the rest - rings and whether he could be bothered to deal with her...affairs. It was, predominantly, a business relationship. For all they were Sire and Childe...William wasn't the affectionate type. Kenzie hadn't been either, although that was more from having it trained out of her.
"Nunnery novice. On it, Boss." Tossing back the last of her drink, she gave him a nod, and moved to rise from her seat. "I'll let you know when I have it. And you know how to get a hold of me if you need to. For...whatever reason." She wouldn't actually leave until she was dismissed.
"I believe in you," it dripped with a playful sarcasm. She held his gaze, but only briefly. His eyes fell back to the ledger, to the carnations, to a held breath of what would happen next.
"Do send a text." He sipped his drink and behaved as if he didn't see that she was leaving, though he must have known she was going. He knew it the same way she knew when he arrived.
"Of course you do. You made me." At least he seemed to appreciate her efforts. Kenzie wasn't stupid, as they'd established. A part of her wondered what would happen if she grabbed the ledger... if she made so much as a concerted effort to read it. The rest of her contented herself with the knowledge that she didn't, really, need to know. Her sire bid her to find things. Specific things. She'd been doing it long enough to recall the entire list, and when each was needed, if she'd a mind. But on this subject, Kenzie's notorious drive for answers seemed quiet. That William wanted them was enough.
"Of course. Until then." The barest sketch of a salute and she was headed back the way she'd come, blowing kisses at the scandalized matron from earlier.
The barest sign of affection followed. Most would have said he gave her nothing. As clean cut as it should have been, there wasn't. Fingers lingered. Gazes lingered, knew it was a hollow opportunity.
"Until then," he smiled, sadly at how well she had affected the hostess. William did what he always did, he looked down at the pages for truth and found it. He sipped his drink as Kenzie slipped out the door, a little wild card he appreciated. Problem was, William worked with a deck. He cleaned his throat, his mind, and prepared for the next.
Maybe she'd be different. She felt like an Ace, not a Joker.