The eighty card deck was spread out before her, her grey tinged gaze intensely settled on the crowd that sprawled out in front of her. The lights were low, the laughter heavy within the air and yet, not a glimpse of the gaiety that surrounded her touched her fair feminine features. The young girl had a look of boredom upon her face as she leaned her cheek against her arm which was, in turn, propped up on the table she sat at. She had a certain sort of understanding with the owner of the bar, the vampire let her tell her tarot card fortunes for some extra cash and in return a portion of what she earned was returned to the establishment. There was little advertisement. There were no hours. She came when she wanted and left when she wanted. It was the perfect sort of under the table arrangement, complete with complementary beverages when Serafina actually desired them. The best part was that they didn't harass her for an ID like some places.

Her fingertips traced the edge of her martini glass, already beginning to feel the buzz within the forefront of her brain. Serafina had found sanctuary within her work here from the moody whims of her mentor, choosing to deal with the drunkard then his anger. Despite this, the crowd tonight was particularly taxing, leaving the girl rather short on patience. A soft sigh left Serafina's lips as a customer sat in front of her. "Pick three cards." She intoned almost immediately, her ability for flare lost somewhere within the half empty glass and her deteriorating fortitude. Her gaze trailed after the cards he chose from her deck, reaching out to take them back from him and flip them over on the table. She was only just to dabble within the occult and though her skills as a witch were limited to her potions and cards, she had begun to get a hang upon telling the future.

The man in front of her, however, hardly had a very interesting life. His past consisted of an alcoholic father, his present of a job where he was entirely unfulfilled and his future with a woman that would badger him constantly but give him three children. Instead of telling him the truth, however, Serafina chose to offer him the standard, 'You're going to meet a beautiful woman.' To which she was awarded a round of boisterous laughter from his friends and a wad of cash. Sometimes, the truth, she had discovered, was not nearly as wanted as the hope of a brighter day in the future. Thankfully, her morality was not nearly as rigid to stop the girl from providing such for her customers. If they wanted to pay for honeyed lies, she was more then happy to oblige. Only once he'd left his seat did Serafina begin collecting her cards, pausing only to bring the drink to her lips and let the rest of the alcohol slide down her throat. She hoped her mentor would be asleep by the time she got home, she'd stayed out just late enough, or so she hoped.

She glanced up, her cards in hand, her grey eyes tracing the crowd absentmindedly before the young girl froze instantly in her place. She knew who he was, rather, she knew what he was. There was an distinguishable bitter taste on the back of her tongue. Dark Hunter. The young girl only hoped she was going to be able to get out of the building fast enough before he recognized her. The last thing she needed was another brush of death within her future.

serafina dubois