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Fritzie

[ website | Welcome to the Kit Kat Klub ]
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Ugh. [04 Dec 2003|01:30am]
[ mood | cold ]

*wakes bleary eyed in a filthy alley next to the rubbish bins*


Whatever I've just been doing, it sure as hell had better have been fun.

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[27 Oct 2003|12:47am]
[ mood | relaxed ]

*lounges on the bed and stretches languidly*

If I smoked cigarets I'd definitely want one right now. *chuckles*

Must remember to find a delightful little knicknack today for Frankie, as a thank you for throwing me in the path of that insatiable boy. I would have found my way into his bed anyway I'm sure, but with Frankie dearest next to me it was ever so much more fun. Now if only the Emcee had been there as well...;-)

I must also rehearse today. Yes. I have not done any proper practicing for weeks, and I fear my voice will be tired and not at all acceptable. Perhaps I should ask cheeky_rosie to go over scales and dance routines with me.

*gets out of bed and cleans herself up before facing the world*

There. Now I look fabulous once again.

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[19 Oct 2003|09:55pm]
[ mood | devious ]

Mmmm.

Frankie is such a wanton little strumpet. How I adore her.

I haven't seen much of the Emcee since my return. I hate the fact that I miss him. How can I carry on being indifferent and unconcerned about people when I long for him? Not just his touch (although of course I do), but for his approval and notice. What is wrong with me? I don't care what anyone thinks of me! I need no one's approval. I am myself, I judge no one and will not be judged. And yet...*small sigh*

Bastard men. They always seem to find a way into your soul, no matter how hard you will them to stay the hell out.

Ah well. I just need someone to divert me. Or perhaps I shall go out and find my pleasures outside the realm of the Club. I am so desirable after all, countless hundreds will be begging for my attention. Yes. I think tomorrow I shall wander the streets (perhaps do a bit of...shopping? Hehehe), smile tantalizingly at the passers by, and watch as they all stop and stare at the glory that is me. And perhaps take advantage of them, in any, and every, way I can. :)

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[13 Oct 2003|02:48pm]
[ mood | jubilant ]

Well, prison wasn't all that bad.

I did eventually get a new cellroomate, and what an adventurous lady she turned out to be. We put on some rather delicious performances for the on duty guards, and in return they brought us anything we desired. And we desired a great many things. *purrs softly*

But at last, danke Gott, I am FREE! Time to steal borrow some fine new boots and other winter necessities. And of course, I must return to my Club! Oh, the poor darlings, how have they survived without me? Very ill indeed, I'm sure. Well, no matter, soon I shall be back home among friends and more than friends and I can cheer everyone up with my tales of stalag debauchery.

Look out Berlin! Fritzie is back!

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Note to self: Never try to steal the shiny buttons off a Brownshirt's jacket [27 Jul 2003|01:58pm]
[ mood | bored ]

Ho hum.


Yawn.


*stares blankly at wall*


Gaol really is the most tedious place on earth.


*long theatrical siiiiigh*

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[16 Jun 2003|01:45pm]
[ mood | devious ]

The past few days certainly have gone by in a bit of a blur -- I really must not have been paying attention to anything around me, because I woke up this morning to find a myriad of faces I didn't recognize, although they were very pleasing to look at. *purrrs lasciviously*

I especially liked that girl who dresses like a young boy -- what style! And plenty of chutzpah to make such a spectacle of herself. Definitely my kind of woman. *grins*

And speaking of 'my kind of woman', I think I need to give luscious Rosie another nighttime visit. I know her heart belongs to Lulu, but who says we can't have fun in the meantime?

I do wish the Emcee would hurry back, I miss his gentle yet firm caresses and playfully wicked smile. I'm sure he'll be ever so pleased with the way darling Herman is running things in his absence, but I also know he'll be anxious to be in control once again. He does enjoy being in control after all. *smirks*

So, now who do I grace with my presence first? The new girl, or Rosie? Why can't I just have both? Now there's a delicious thought. *chuckles low and dirty*

Hmmm. Although thinking about it perhaps I should practice my singing instead. Oh, surely that can wait. I'd much rather have fun. So I shall!

*lips curl into a sly smile and wanders off looking for pleasurable things*

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Musings... [08 Jun 2003|05:48pm]
[ mood | Contemplative, for once ]

I love to dance.

I love the freedom it gives me. The seemingly effortless movement of the body, the illusion of grace and beauty. How every step means something different and no dance is ever the same, no matter how many times you repeat it over and over again. There's always something new to discover in your feet, your legs, your eyes and hands.


Maybe that's why I enjoy stealing so much.

There's the same kind of exhilaration when you've made a successful move, you've scored that wallet, done that triple pirouette. A pas de chat to the left and you've completed the routine, an arabesque to the right and you've stolen the rich woman's necklace. It's all the same to me. And I love it.

Sometimes I think I'm a good dancer. But I know I'm an excellent thief.

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[03 Jun 2003|01:30pm]
[ mood | accomplished ]

It's amazing how fate plays tricks on you. One moment you're languishing in a filthy jail filled with petty thieves and odours so vile you can barely breathe, and the next...you're working in a nightclub, ready to dance and sing under the bright lights that seem to melt all your problems away.

I know what you're thinking. I didn't mean to get caught, either by the police or that devilishly charming Emcee. Both times I guess I picked the wrong pocket, except of course the latter turned out far better than I could have hoped. Although of course it's exactly what I deserve. (And I deserve nothing but the best. ;-)

That Emcee. Mmmm. There was just something about him that attracted me, right from the start. I saw him walking down the cobbled street in those shabby trousers with head held high and proud, like he owned the world and was utterly captivated. I knew he wouldn't have much money but decided to try my luck anyway, and when he stopped outside the grocer's to talk to the owner I slid my nimble fingers that have served me so well in the past (except for that one time, obviously) into his trousers. But instead of darting in and quickly out like I normally do, my hand lingered. I didn't want to move. Something told me it would be a mistake to run away. So I stayed. And he liked it.

How did he know I was a dancer? Could he tell just by looking at me that I feel such pleasure when I dance that nothing else matters? I don't know. I just remember him taking my hand gently in his own as he turned around and smiled that intoxicatingly seductive smile, and asked if I would dance for him. Dance for everyone, in his nightclub. How could I refuse?

So here I am, a member of the sordid little cabaret at the Kit Kat Club. I think I'm going to like it here. *grins*

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