# 𝕂𝔼ℕℤ𝕀𝕂𝕆𝕍𝔸
independent roleplay blog for kenzi malikova from the sci-fi series 'lost girl'. heavily canon-divergent and critical of several main plot-arcs. blog will deal with heavy themes and thus is strictly 21+. written by ilya. #CARRD
trying on a metaphor

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
One Nice Bug Per Day

JBB: An Artblog!
Sweet Seals For You, Always

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wallacepolsom

@theartofmadeline
🪼

Origami Around
Cosmic Funnies
styofa doing anything

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TVSTRANGERTHINGS
AnasAbdin
todays bird

Kiana Khansmith

if i look back, i am lost

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

seen from Malaysia
seen from Hungary

seen from United States
seen from Canada
seen from South Africa
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seen from United Kingdom

seen from Germany

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seen from Germany
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@kenzikova
# 𝕂𝔼ℕℤ𝕀𝕂𝕆𝕍𝔸
independent roleplay blog for kenzi malikova from the sci-fi series 'lost girl'. heavily canon-divergent and critical of several main plot-arcs. blog will deal with heavy themes and thus is strictly 21+. written by ilya. #CARRD
DOBBY.
The cold breeze she brought into the car was impossible to ignore. But it soon was consumed by the warmth reigning here alongside quiet orchestra symphonies ( and the windshield-wipers’ soft whir ). Kenzi’s fidgeting, however, did its best to drown out the pleasant sounds ; albeit Thranduil paid her fight with the seat a brief side glance and no more. She would figure it out, he was certain. He drove to the lot’s exit, the car spring-suspended so one sat on smooth movement and would not notice the vehicle rolled until looking through the window.
With one hand still on the wheel, Thranduil reached behind his seat to grab the folded blanket lying on the backseat, then slid it onto his guest’s lap. Mortals did not do well with cold and wet weather.
❝ The runaway shelter … ❞ Skepticism creased the elf’s brows when his attention would flit over Kenzi’s profile, subtle the negating motion of his silvery head. ❝ I haven’t taken you for a homeless person, thief or not. ❞ No, he couldn’t have bitten back that comment, gaze ahead once more where red traffic lights soon enough forced a halt. By all means, he won’t tell her where to spend the night but one may still wonder.
❛ yeah, high and mighty? people only steal shit when they can’t get it any other way. oh, sweet jesus. warmth. ❜ and in fact she hadn’t even realized just how cold she was. not until the preferred blanket had slid into her grasp and begun to warm her frozen fingers. she once again found herself reaching for the straps of her sodden denim jacket, shrugging it off to drop between her legs.
but it didn’t matter what he did or didn’t take her for. she didn’t survive to impress anyone, pompous or not. but she had. doing awful things, having awful things done to her. who the hell wouldn’t give all that up to go back in time and lead some soft, cushy life? but no. this was all she had. it was all she knew how to have.
❛ and anyway, it’s homeless by choice. the world is my oyster, or whatever. anything is better than going back to that hellhole. ... and, not to go all little orphan annie on you, but they wouldn’t want me there, anyway. ❜ not more than her mom wanted her step-dad there, anyway. god, the very thought made her blood boil, and she found herself glaring into the rearview mirror. at herself, no less. this lasted for the better part of a minute, blinking away the glare of every passing car until her gaze shifted south. the blanket felt like dead weight across her arms, but even that was a better distraction than the glare of halogen headlights. she didn’t even like oysters.
silence and the buzz of richie violin music filled her ears like cotton. why couldn’t it dorwn out her raging thoughts, too? if there was one thing kenzi hated, it was the art of self-reflection. cmon kenzi, get it together. fuck, you’re being kind of bitchy.
❛ ...it’s not you. today has just ... sucked mega horse dick. ❜ how ancient was this dude? who the fuck even listened to classical music anymore? unless he personally lived to shake the hand of mozart then he had no excuse to be that rigid. a thousand more thoughts ran rampant through her mind, intrusive, distracting. anything to keep her mind off the repulsive shiver that ran up and down her spine as she threw apart her ego and humbled herself to say: ❛ thank you. ❜
ERNIE KEEBLER.
That youthful language surely deserved its own dictionary, one Thranduil should utilize in order to understand half of Kenzi’s references. And odd pet names. Inhaling deeply through flaring nostrils, he failed miserably to suppress an eyeroll at some of those lines billowing from his phone. So much babbling, he knew not what to react to first ! It didn’t help that his day had been tremendously draining, left him a tad irritable. ❝ Do me a favor and quit addressing mating rituals, will you ? ❞ Demand sharpened his still leveled timbre, a frown crowning his glance to the device attached to the dash. How inappropriate; she could easily be his great grandchild.
❝ Isn’t Bo the friend who left you waiting in vain as we met in that waffle house ? ❞ The first buildings lined the street after Thranduil passed the city’s entrance, what parking lot Kenzi mentioned prior soon within sight — and he spotted her already from afar. He hung up sans prior warning and turned into the driveway, the car slowing down to halt afore her. They could resume their paused conversation inside, once Thranduil was given a direction as to where drop the young miss off.
she hadn’t even bothered to close her phone. instead, the tiny russian wasted no time in skidding across the asphalt to wrench the door ajar the heat is welcome, and her little kenzi-shaped ass is just about frozen from sitting on a cold, damp bench in the middle of an empty lot. closing the door a little harder than she’d meant to, the next few minutes were spent wrestling with the seat-belt and adjusting the leg room. you know, so that she didn’t feel like she’d just started some circus attempt to swallow her own knees.
❛ yeah, but she usually has a good reason. nine times out of ten something’s trying to suck her face off. and not in the good raunchy succubus kinda way. jesus, do you ferry leprechauns in here? you’re like super-model tall and i feel like my thighs are gonna become one with the back of my neck. ❜
smartphone snapped on between her shivering thumbs, casting her face and the prior rain in her hair dramatically in the backlight. flashlight aquired, kenzi couldn’t help but look around the seats- dip her head over her shoulder to glance along the floor. no dead bodies. good sign. ❛ anyway, there’s a runaway shelter about fifteen blocks from here if you hang a right. i’m small enough that they don’t ask any questions and it beats any of those groddy roach-motels on 5th avenue. ❜
@bravehery - bo bo.
❛ ungh ... god ... what time is it? i feel like a lizard crawled inside my ear, died and then came back from the dead just to die all over again on the other side... and how come you don’t look like death? ❜
like for a starter. random length, no cap.
GOOD! GOOD… because normal people do not help out strangers. if you were normal, i could be dead. | independent kenzi malikov. re-established october of 2021. 21+ due to dark themes and heavy topics & content. written by ilya.
@maelindas
❛ if we were allowed to run with scissors then maybe things would finally start getting cut in a timely manner around here. ❜
kenzi: - mat' metla. baba yaga baba yaga. prababushka d'yavola. vyydi iz stekla skvoz' svoyu ten'. vyyti cherez svoy dvoynika. DO NOT REBLOG.
one of the things the show did very well (thanks to ksenia solo) was the terrifying portrayal of baba yaga and the double-edged-sword she presents to those who invoke her. kenzi of course knows all about her, having grown up surrounded by russian culture and her mother having used baba yaga as a very real threat to her misbehaving daughter. but we learn later on that it’s much more than that that kenzi has invoked baba yaga in order to punish her step-father that abuses her. this is something that baba yaga herself uses as a means to frighten and mock kenzi for after she sucks her through the mirror and makes kenzi her servant - with the threat of being eaten.
baba yaga is one of three sisters with the exact same name- and she appears as a fierce, old woman that lives in a house that walks on severed chicken legs. inside this house, she often is depicted as eating misbehaving children, and as a witch that will often help the protagonist on his way- for a price. the idea of the mirror or reflective water being the portal to where she keeps her home comes from the story of the old bony legs, where sasha must use a special, magical mirror to escape baba yaga’s prison.
but moving onto kenzi herself: she is utterly terrified of this woman. and in the end, she is the one who ends up saving all of the girls trapped in baba yaga’s hut and bo. and she is utterly prepared to sacrifice herself to being trapped there as a prisoner for the rest of her life. she also ends up being the one to kill baba yaga later on, using her own child-cooking oven against her in a very hansel-and-gretel-like ending.
in a way, i see this as kenzi moving on from the thing that has kept her trapped in limbo. baba yaga didn’t just represent her childhood fear, but also the lingering trauma and fear of her step-father. while originally having the will to forgive her mother when she lies about leaving her stepfather behind, it also gives her the strength to tell her family to leave when she realizes the truth- that her stepfather is using her boyfriend and herself in secret to take their money in another get-rich-quick scheme. and that her mother was behind it all. her mother also refuses to acknowledge what her husband did to her daughter, and tries very hard to brush it off or gaslight kenzi on the subject. baba yaga represents the crone figure in her life. her mother, and the shackles of her own self doubt after having lived on her own/on the street since she was a child. to me, kenzi killing baba yaga and saving the girls who were held captive by her was, by extension, her forgiving herself for what had happened, and putting the blame rightfully where it belonged: on her mother and stepfather.
@rottnking ; harry osborn
❛ oh god, are you one of those super hardcore science-y nerds. y’know like the ones who go to ivy-league schools with the ultra-hard science projects that get passed over for the kid that shows up with potato grown with pepsi? ❜
@rottnking ; tim drake.
❛ oh cmon, it’s not that bad... it’s like my aunt ludmina always says! ... it’s never too late to start pursuing a career in middle management. ❜
@seraophic
❛ part bird, part plane, part super.... man that’s a lot of parts. almost too many parts for one dude if you ask me. sooo... they stick you together like a bagg’a legos, or was it a comes-pre-assembled kind of deal? ❜
JUSTIN TIMBERELF .
Turning around, he drove back the as long as empty street. In the distance, lanterns like dots lining each side marked the proximity to the city he had exited mere minutes ago. Good for Kenzi, she needn’t wait long. Gaze on the path, Thranduil nodded once despite her having no way of seeing it, adding a short and crisp: ❝ Stay there, it’s not far. ❞ His index finger already hovered afore the hang up button when Kenzi’s query made him reluctant to press it, that hand soon returning to the steering wheel. ‘Pissed’ — he would like to ask the inventor of this neo-term for ‘sour’ what rode them.
❝ That you took my number when you could simply have asked me for it as normal people do ? ❞ Monotonous rang the ellon’s timbre, less angry than one may have expected but with a sharp edge to the added: ❝ Guess. ❞ A brief pause followed, still filled by quiet classic symphonies pouring out of the car radio. ❝ You said you might get eaten. Did someone … ❞, one tap of his fingers onto the wheel in his grasp. ❝ … or something follow you ? ❞ Must he step harder on the gas pedal ?
❛ i mean if you gotta be all specific and shit, then... yeah. that. ❜ kenzi made a mental note that she probably shouldn’t mention that she gave that close to sliding one of those rings off his pampered, manicured hands. ❛ but i think we’ve established that neither of us are exactly ‘normal peeps’ material. ❜
nearly tripping over her own two feet, kenzi swerved herself into a nearby park bench to sit and wait. occasionally he might hear the annoyingly familiar sound of teeth on chewing gum- both between her teeth and between her fingers as she pulled the flavored candy into string. yet another nervous habit. ❛ no, there’s no need to go all percy jackson on anyone. bo and i just ... got into a fight. some stuff happened and i left but i just know the massive b.s. that walks these streets, man. have you SEEN how cute and adorable i am? the last thing i need is frankenstein and wolfman carrying me off to dracula’s friggin’ castle. ❜
❛ you weren’t like... on some super sexy elf date or anything, were you? cause i can totally take a rain check with the wolfman if i’m interrupting your mating ritual, or whatever. totally supporting you here thrandyman. ❜
PRETTY FAERIE MAN.
Driving through a barely lit avenue, on his way home, Thranduil heard this all too familiar voice talk like a waterfall through his hands-free-kit. He had not forgotten about the young miss, who was annoyingly creative with her references to him. Silently, albeit with a quirk upward of one brow, he bit back any criticism floating promptly through his fair head — Kenzi seemed to be in danger. She probably could gather the piano track gently sounding from his radio. Thranduil slowed down, spotting a niche nearby where he could turn the SUV.
A child in his eyes, he could impossibly ignore the urgency at hand ( plus, they obviously ought to have a conversation regarding theft ). And where he thus had cut most other callers off by now, he didn’t her, sans hesitation offering neither greeting nor comments: ❝ Precisely where are you ? ❞
mud-covered converse crunched and kicked on bits of loose gravel, and despite the way they bit into her ankles carried her quickly through the parking lot of the abandoned metro mart. if she weren’t a better person she may have tried to jimmy the lock on the back door, may have tried to steal a bag of ketchup chips or three. ❛ i passed bellwood’s brewery about ten minutes ago, aaand now i’m standing outside of a metro … on, uh, king street? i dunno, man. kinda hard to read street signs when the friggin’ sun is gone. ❜
she hoped her voice, though lower and somehow calmer than usual (despite her oh-so-cheerful disposition), wouldn’t give away her mood. god, could you imagine? not only would she need mister pretty boy to come and bail her out of her own bullshit yet again, but getting all snot-nosed and red-eyed in front of him? she’d rather eat her own fist. still, she didn’t even get a hello. not that he was exactly expecting her call, she’d bet. but kenzi was kenzi, and clearing away the phlegm in her throat, she asked: ❛ sooo, you’re pissed, huh? ❜
@movrningbride
❛ so... full disclosure... how exactly did you bag yourself a vampire? that’s like every high school girl’s dream. ❜ or so she’d heard. kenzi poured herself another flute of bourbon, bottle uncapped and left to the side. for all she knew, maybe there was some kind of dating service for hot, anemic ladies. or something...
❛ are we talking ballroom dance cliché or do you have just straight-up supernatural coochie powers? ❜
like for a starter. random length, no cap.