Kersen

Kersen was... nervous, which he knew was completely silly. But it had been such a long time since he'd been on a date like this. Even though he and Klaus had gone on dates, it was after they'd already slept together.

He took a lot of care with his appearance. Dressed as a boy, but with his typical androgynous flair. Some makeup, mostly his eyes, and a pair of trousers that he knew made his ass look amazing. Also the cashmere scarf that James had admired.

James had offered to come to his house, so when the doorbell rang he managed to clamp down the butterflies, and answered the door, a smile already on his face.

After reconnecting with Fin, Kersen had asked for Hex's phone number. Hex, who also was somehow a new Hex and who also did not remember Kersen from London before they'd been in that strange place, also had no reason to think that Kersen would be here in London. And it wasn't as if he'd gotten to know Kersen well there, but they'd been friendly enough, and he hadn't even been awkward about it when Kersen confessed that he'd had sex with... other Hex.

So he called, and Hex was perfectly nice, and Kersen had asked if he'd like to see his bar. He decided not to get into drag; that might be a bit much. So instead he was just dressed nicely (okay, perhaps notably nicely, he did quite like Hex) when he recognized the man come in past the bouncer at the front door.

He walked over, just beyond the piano where Jim was playing jazz standards, and spread his hands. "Welcome to Jazzmin."

Kersen had to confess, his mind had strayed a time or two to Klaus since they'd parted ways the morning after their tryst. Kersen had reminded him about the sunlight thing (hence the basement apartment) and sent him on his way, reminding him to get lots of electrolytes.

And then he'd lay in bed for a while wondering if he'd done anything wrong. After all, Klaus seemed happy enough, and Kersen had been completely honest with him. Sure, he'd gotten a little carried away with the biting, but he hadn't hurt him, and it had all been in the context of sex. It wasn't like he was using Klaus for a snack or anything. And dear god, had it all been hot. What a way to break Kersen's sexual dry spell.

So yeah, maybe part of him was hoping Klaus might show up at the bar again. As long as he wasn't showing up begging for a bite. That was Kersen's fear, really, with someone like that. That their amazing night had nothing to do with him at all. It had been a while since he'd dealt with a true vampire junkie, and it never ended well.

It was early in the evening, and Kersen hadn't gotten into drag yet, in part because he'd come in as soon as the sun set to deal with some administrative things and talk to his staff. He was dressed in a sharp suit instead, well-tailored and embellished with a lavender silk scarf. Eyeliner too, of course, and lip gloss - this was very subtle for Kersen. He'd been hoping that later in the evening to have some time to get into drag, and as the place started to fill up and his staff got to work, he thought it might be soon.

It had been so long that Kersen didn't really remember what a sunrise over the ocean looked like, at least beyond what he saw in paintings and movies. He wasn't sure if he saw sad about this, anymore. It was simply the state of his world.

He did sometimes miss the oceans of his youth, though - the seas in Indonesia where there were beautiful sunsets, in a time when the beaches were unspoiled. He was thinking of that tonight as he walked along the beach, and then on a whim, stripped out of his clothes and waded into the ocean in simply his boxer briefs. He swam out a ways, until he got tired, and then came back, emerging from the waves. He pushed his wet hair out of his face and looked out towards the horizon, wondering if the ocean went on forever here.

After Kersen parted ways with Danny, he shoved his hands into his pockets and started walking faster. It wasn't that he was upset with Danny. Or even annoyed with himself, though maybe a little. He was just annoyed by the entire situation, and now he was keyed up.

After about five minutes of walking, he pulled out his phone and texted Michael. you busy? want to come by the bar?

Come downstairs. Make love to me. Stay the night.

After Kersen's request, he let Michael lead him down to the basement apartment. He was glad, suddenly, that he'd cleaned up so well from his recent tryst with Finlay Flynn; he'd have hated to have to explain blood on the sheets to Michael.

"I'm guessing," he said with a little smile when they were there with the door closed, "that you want me to get out of this shirt." He was surprised Michael hadn't commented on it.

After waking this evening, Kersen had heard the upsetting news that Hannibal Lecter was dead. His house had burned the day before, and him along with it - potential arson. He had sat for a while with this news, his grief mingled with a touch of guilt for having spent so little time with the man in recent months. He also wondered if he should reach out to Alcuin. But no, that may not be best. But perhaps later, after time had passed.

He did not have much time to dwell on it, however, because eventually he noticed a letter slipped under his front door. It had an address on it, a hotel with a room number, and that was all. It was, of course, really stupid to follow these kinds of directions blindly. But on the other hand, he was a vampire; he had good senses, and he could scope out a place well enough. So... he went.

And, in short, he found a body. Well, not a body exactly. A person who was almost a body. The man bound to the bed had been losing blood slowly for what Kersen suspected was about twenty-four hours. He had also had a few non-essential organs removed, placed in a bowl on the nightstand beside him. And the blood he was losing dripped slowly from one elevated wrist into a large wine goblet.

The man's eyes were open and pleading.

There was a note. Kersen read it, felt his entire body go cold, and then after only a moment's hesitation, snapped the man's neck.

If he were human, he would have thrown up.

Instead, he texted Michael the address. Come. Please.

Then he sat down on the floor at the foot of the bed and waited. He did not drink the blood, nor look again at the body.

Kersen had kept Michael at least somewhat informed about how things were going with Bonnie, over a phone phone calls. But he hadn't felt comfortable having Michael come to the house, and it was a few days before he felt comfortable leaving her there alone. But... as far as he could guess, she was just going to stay in bed crying.

He told Michael to meet him at the bar. He spent some time getting things in order, trying not to let on to his employees in what bad shape he was in.

But he was relieved as hell as soon as Michael walked in. He wanted to run over and throw himself into his arms - but that would be bad for many reasons. So instead he just gestured for Michael to follow him back to his office.

Kersen was sitting in a chair in a room in the Blood Diamond. The room was light tight, there was a large bed in the middle, and currently there was a dead girl in it.

A girl who, sometime before dawn, would be waking up craving blood. Whose human life would be over. And who was now Kersen's responsibility for eternity.

He dropped his head into his hands, and didn't even hear the door open and Eric enter the room.

Kersen had seen everyone he thought he should see, in the event that something happened to him at the trial. All except one person, someone he hadn't seen in quite some time. And he didn't really know how to get in touch with him, except...

Feeling a bit silly, Kersen sat on his bed in his house just after dusk. He was still wearing his dressing gown. He looked up at his ceiling.

"Um," he said, and tried to focus. Think or something. It felt really weird to think of it as praying. "Anael? I was hoping to talk to you..."