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08/19/2019 01:55 PM 

Indestructible Intro

Attn: Klaus, EVERYONE.
Paragon /  Elijah Mikaelson/ 1545178
“It’s been an amazing ride, Niklaus.”   Those words came forth from the elder Original fully aware of what he’d intended to do.   Taking in hand that White Oak stake, there was only one thing that he could do.   With a firm grasp on the stake, he snapped it with ease.   Those words of hurt coming from his brother with optics full of tears glancing back at him.   “I intend to die with you.”   Elijah Mikaelson meant every word.  Elijah couldn’t live without his brother, nor did he intend to do so.

The moment of understood realism between the brothers was unspoken.  Everything for him for the past millennia had been about his brother.  Elijah loved Klaus more than the human mind could possible even fathom.   The early Christians that Elijah had met in the Dark Age Monasteries of the 13th Century gave him the tomes of their religion with the one biggest phrase that continued to stick out for him all these years later.  Greater love had no man than he lay down his life for his friends.  Klaus was more than just his best friend.  Klaus was his brother.   Elijah would die at his brother’s side as he had always been meant to do.

The last goodbyes between the brothers were filled with the promises and the wistful regrets of an extended life that had been so fatefully wasted in so many ways.   Soon the time had come.  Elijah nodded before grabbing the stake and pressing it against his brother’s chest.  He could feel the wood pressing against his own chest from the stake his brother held.  Together, one swift blow from two strong hands and the curse was broken.  To the casual human observer passing by on this summer night, there was an unusual amount of dust in the air.  Little had they known but world was now far more changed for the first time in over 1000 years.   Elijah and Klaus Mikelson were now dead.


He opened his eyes slowly.  Elijah Mikaelson found himself in a clearing laying on the ground.  This whole are was not unlike the one in which he’d lived his early life as a human.  “Niklaus?”   He called out his brother’s name in curiosity at first.  Once there was no answer,  Elijah scrambled to his feet.   He allowed his hands to roam over his form.   He was whole and complete.   He had felt the pieces of his body flake away and remove him from the surface of life on Earth itself.   Was this the afterlife?    The sound of rushing water could be heard off in the distance.   Dressed in a dark blue suit with a silk tie and a pocket square, Elijah looked much like what he had when he was still alive.   He was quite dead however.  He was sure of it.

“Niklaus?!”   He couldn’t hear his brother anywhere.  Elijah was alone and he didn’t like it one iota.   The rushing water came back into his augmented hearing.  Surely his brother was down by the water’s edge, right?   He pushed through the brush and the overgrowth.   There was a crystal stream running through the area again like the one where he and Klaus played as children all those years ago.   Filled with memories of a simpler time, Elijah approached the stream to kneel beside it.   He extended his hand into the water to feel the cool water rush over it.   Watching the water itself, he realized something profound.   It was only water with a smattering of rocks here and there.   There were no fish in this stream.  “Where am I?”  His question rung out into the air in rhetorical form.   

“I never thought I’d see the day.  Elijah Mikaelson, dead… FINALLY!”   The female voice behind him was one he knew all too well.  Her name was Elizabeth Maxwell and she’d been a witch in her life.    “Welcome to Purgatory Elijah.  This is where ALL monsters go where they die.”  She folded her arms over one another glaring viciously at the Original that had cost the witch her very life.  “When the word gets out you’re here, it’ll be a field day.”  Sapphire hues glistened with righteous indignation.   This was the day she’d longed to see for several centuries now.

A perfectly manicured brow lifted upward at his former paramour.   “Klaus ripped you to shreds, Elizabeth.   I saw him covered in your blood.”   He rose to his full height of six feet standing in front of her.   “How did it feel to be ripped to shreds by my brother?  Did you enjoy feeling your flesh being torn to ribbons?  Oceans of blood poured from you that covered our courtyard for days.  It took the hybrids four days to clean it all.”   The cold calculating tones of Elijah Mikaelson had been covered in silky smooth efficiency as he recalled how his brother had so heartily defeated this witch.  A smile curled his lips in sardonic glee.  The faintest hint of his fangs brushed against his bottom lip in the process.

Recalling the moment of her death sent the witch into a fit of rage that managed to direct all her focus on the Original that she had once loved with every fibre of her being.  “You son of a b’itch…”  She growled as she started toward him.   “You don’t have your brother to hide behind here.  It’s just you and me, right here and right now.”   

Elijah was still grinning at her enjoying pushing her buttons in this fashion even if he was at a disadvantage here.   “That’s where you’re wrong, Elizabeth.  Niklaus may not be here at the moment, but he is here somewhere and I intend to find him.   When I do, the rules of Purgatory will change, I assure you.”    His eyes glazed over with the darkness of being an Original as his fangs were bared.   If being in Purgatory meant he had to fight… so be it.

Elizabeth was a depowered witch in the realm of Purgatory.  It didn’t mean she couldn’t still fight.  She had been here for some time.   She had a few tricks of her own in her repertoire.  She was standing beside a tree when Elijah bared his fangs.   She pulled off the branch of a tree and swung it at him.

The branch hit its mark.  Elijah was sent flying back by the blow to his abdomen.   His body came to a skidding halt stirring up a mound of dirt.   His head had struck the bark of the tree he’d landed near.   He shook his head and lay there momentarily stunned.   Her footsteps were closing in on his location and he could hear them.  With his head down, he was clearing out the cobwebs when she came back for another round.  Elijah didn’t need to stand up to do what he had to accomplish.  His right hand immediately struck with the speed and accuracy 1000 years of blood and murder could accomplish.   His right hand had broken through the ribcage immediately finding its way to the organ that beat there.  With the swiftness he was known for, Elijah ripped the still beating organ from her body.   Holding her heart in his hand, he didn’t even look at her.   “So in Purgatory things are quite different.”  He lowered his gaze focusing on her with a feral malevolent smile.   “Good.”    He dropped the organ to the ground before standing up once more.  Her body fell to the ground devoid of its heart.  The look of terror and surprise on her face made Elijah’s ego inflate just a tad bit more.  He stood to his feet in the middle of the dirt.  Pulling out that handkerchief he always carried, Elijah started to clean up the mess on his body.   “Now, time to find my brother.”


The rules of Purgatory as well as time itself passed at a far different rate than when The Mikaelson Brothers were on Earth.   His reunion with Klaus came just as Elijah had foretold.   Brothers united again in this hell for monsters such as themselves soon became stronger in war just as they had been in the old days when the earth was young and raw.    One of the curses of Purgatory had been that anyone slain in Purgatory would revive once more to begin the hunt anew.   For countless days now, Elijah and Klaus had to fight to stay alive… and stay alive they did.   Despite the myriad of faces that came across their paths in these days were as far back as the 11th Century.   Fortunately for them however, they had not seen Mikael the Destroyer.   Silently he hoped that their father was truly in the depths of hell being tormented as he truly deserved.

Spending these days in Purgatory fighting side by side with his brother brought about a modicum of satisfaction.  He was with his brother.  That’s what he had determined even that day where they had plunged in the stakes severing their connection to the earth on that day.  It seemed like their lives on earth had been yet another millennia ago.  Was that even possible?   Time passed at a different rate, so in terms of Purgatory, they had essentially been here for another millennia.  Unfortunately for the monsters in Purgatory, it meant that no matter what targets were on the backs of The Originals,  Klaus and Elijah were at the top of the pecking order.   Even with a full beard and a disheveled appearance, Elijah was still the monster he was when he first arrived in Purgatory.  On this particular day, the ground shifted under himself and his brother.   Elijah managed to regain his footing with relative ease.   Optics turned toward the skies of Purgatory.   There was a crack that pierced the sky.    

The door was o p e n e d.   He met his brother’s gaze.   This meant one thing.   The Mikaelson brothers could return to earth.   There was a door or gateway somewhere that could lead them back to earth itself.  Now how to find it?


credit: james kriet

08/18/2019 12:45 PM 

Drabble Prompt #3

Feat: In My Veins/ Andie Warren
…I can explain!
Paragon /  Elijah Mikaelson/ 1545178
Laissez les bons temps rouler!  The debauchery and desecration that tended to fill the streets of the French Quarter tended to bring about a smile on the face of the eldest Original Elijah Mikaelson.  In the old days of the celebration both he and his brother Niklaus would imbibe on the blood of those revelers who wandered into their family home whether accidentally or on purpose.   Elijah had long since lost the desire to take advantage of some poor child on holiday from uni just for the celebration itself.   He was more and more the one that the vampires and the supernatural community called The Noble One with great respect.   He took pride in being who he was.  Even he had his moments, however that made some wonder who to be more afraid of:  either him or his brother.   Silent rage was at times more deadly than the brutal rage of the animal.

He had been watching while standing in the balcony as the streets were filled with revelers again as they had been many times in the centuries prior.   The air around the Mikaelson Family home was filled with the stench of alcohol, urine, and vomit.   It was best for him to stay precisely where he was as the parade passed by.  

An amused chortle left his lips at the amount of human flesh that had been exposed on this particular night.   They were still the same as they were back in the 18th Century when these celebrations had begun.   Something however did catch his eye.   There was a young lady backing away from the crowd almost as though she was being pursued.   The tenable amount of fear in the air made him rise from his position on the balcony so as to better observe her movements.

There was indeed something or someone chasing her.  The figure was shrouded in some sort of magical energy that even obstructed itself from the heightened sense of an Original.   This had to be some sort of powerful magic that he’d not seen in several hundred years.  Could it have even been a demon itself?   There was only one way to find out for certain.  Using his vampiric speed, Elijah made his way down to the bottom level of the Family Home.

Before he could enter the street level, that girl who was being chased ran directly into him.  Running into him had been like a brick wall.   “Excuse me young lady.  Who are you and what are you doing in my home?”

She stood there still a bit in shock about how rough it had been to run into him quite literally.  “Please! Please, just let me explain!

“You have approximately three minutes to explain what’s going on here and who you are.”   Elijah folded his arms over one another waiting for her to tell him her story.
credit: james kriet

08/13/2019 04:36 PM 

Drabble Prompt #2

Feat: Mia Harris/Blackout
Prompt 2
Paragon /  Elijah Mikaelson/ 1545178
If there was one thing that the oldest Original Vampire knew, it was how cruel that humans could be to one another.   He’d seen the depths of this cruelty in Japan during the repeated incursions into China in the 1930s,  the streets of the cesspool called London in the early days of the Industrial Revolution and even the Spanish Inquisition itself.    Humans feared what they did not understand.  Fathers tended to be exceptionally cruel to their children when they were different.   Elijah exhaled a shaky breath.   His own father was the greatest shining example of that barbarism.

Throughout his long life, Elijah Mikaelson had tended to the caretaker and protector role over his siblings.   Granted Niklaus had a more stern hand over what was right and proper in his eyes for his siblings, Elijah tended not to be quick to dagger anyone although it wasn’t always out of the question for him.    He relied more on his gift for words and persuasion to convince the children to see him as a father figure and protector.  It was a role that was perfect for the oldest Original Vampire.

It was on the streets of New Orleans that Elijah met the young witch named Mia Harris.  The child had ran from her home to leave behind a particularly cruel and malicious father.   A pickpocket had run into Elijah attempting to make off with his wallet when Mia stopped the would be thief with a minor bit of magic.   Of course, Elijah could have used his own vampiric speed to retrieve that which belonged to him, but sensing a source of magic nearby, he’d allowed the witch to make herself known to him.  How better to do that than a friendly stroll in the French Quarter?

The pickpocket had fallen straight away into a pile of excrement from a dog or some such animal as the result of her spell leaving a smile upon her face.   “I’ll take that.”   She lifted Elijah’s wallet from the thief’s hands with a proud smile upon her face.

Elijah stepped up beside her with a smile of his own on his face.  “Quite a handy bit of spell work there young lady.”   He spoke with a soft voice not allowing anyone to hear that wasn’t listening.

She handed the wallet back to its owner.  “It was nothing, really.  I’m Mia.”

“I’m Elijah.   Would you care to join me for lunch?  It‘s a public place, I assure you. ”  His augmented senses could tell that she was hungry.  Most runaways hitting the streets of New Orleans for the first time usually were.

She nodded at him slowly.  “Yeah. I mean.  I don’t want to impose…”

“No imposition at all, I insist.”   He smiled warmly at the young witch.   “This way…”


That was the beginning of the bond between young witch and vampire.   He’d taken to her just as he’d taken to Davina upon his initial return to New Orleans.  It took Klaus and his silver daggers for him to meet Davina.   All it took for him to meet Mia was a thief running off with his wallet.  

He had invited her back to their home since she had no place to go.   The occasional snide comment from Klaus was easily overlooked when his brother had brought in a fox that tended to use Elijah’s own suit jackets for napping and his trousers as a scratching post.    He saw the fox as good for his brother since it kept him occupied from inflicting too much terror on his siblings and the general populace.   Elijah began to look at Mia as a surrogate daughter since it would be absolutely impossible for him to have a biological child.

It was breakfast time approximately one month after Elijah and Mia had first met.   It was over morning tea that the two had a chance to speak.  “Mia, I’m glad to have you here.  You’ve become like a daughter to me.  You’ve changed my life for the better.   I want to show you something.”   He pulled out an old book that had tarnished yellow pages and writing on each page.  “My mother was a powerful witch.  As long as you are here, you can have access to my mother’s grimoire.  You cannot leave here with it, but it will help you perfect your magic under my watchful eye.  What do you say?”

credit: james kriet

08/13/2019 02:01 AM 

Drabble Prompt #1

Feat James Kriet [B]utcher
Drabble Prompt
Paragon /  Elijah Mikaelson/ 1545178
If there was anything that Elijah Mikaelson knew, he knew vampire hunters.   Considering his father was a vampire who hunted vampires, he knew there were others out there that tried to kill other creatures like himself that had been walking the earth for far too many years.   He was standing in front of his favorite liquor cabinets with glass in hand.

Over the years he’d faced them all.  Only one of them he truly feared and that was his own father.   Hunters came and hunters went as time marched forward in its endless passage through the centuries.  He’d seen them all.   He’d watched the British Men of Letters form in the Old World all those years ago.   He’d seen the Watcher’s Council form among several old wizards trying to turn against their own kind and foster these girls with demon blood that were called Slayers.

There were a whole new breed of these Slayers out and about these days.   Slayers, hunters, they were all out there trying to put down beasts like him and his family.   “So I’ve heard you’ve been playing house with a Winchester.”   He spoke to the guest in his midst.   He kept his back to her despite the fact she was known to be one of the best Slayers alive today.

A huff came from the petite form of James Kriet, Slayer extraordinaire.   He had a smug grin on his face as he turned around to face her.   “He’s not bad.  Mostly for amusement purposes.”   She answered with a look of sarcasm glowing in her dark hues. 

“Which one was it again?  The tall one or the bow legged one?”   Elijah held up his finger to his lips trying to recall which Winchester it was that she had been linked to romantically.   “All those lumbering piles of flannel tend to blur after a while.”    He poured a glass from Klaus’ bourbon stash and held it out for the Slayer to take if she wanted to do so.

“The bow legged one.  Dean.”   She took the glass and held it in her hand for a brief moment.    Elijah was impressed when he saw her down the liquid without flinching.  His brows raised simultaneously and lowered.  “What?  Never see a woman drink bourbon before?”

He had a pleasant expression cross his lips.   “I’ve seen plenty of women through the years put away the alcohol better than most men.   I also tend not to talk to very many Slayers.  They have a tendency to try and hit me with pointy things without saying anything to me.”  His right index finger ran across the top of the glass before he began to partake of the liquid itself.   “Words will always be words, however.  Some of your predecessors have had the vocabulary of a Neanderthal.  You, however, are quite different from all of them aren’t you?”

The oldest Original began to size up his guest wondering if she was packing vervain in her repetoire.   Granted it wouldn’t bring serious damage to him, but still it was an inconvenience.   “You’re as big an ass as your brother aren’t you?”  The sarcasm in her voice was dripping with the intensity of a wooden stake.

Elijah was utterly amused at that statement.   “Actually Niklaus is far bigger and he takes great pride in it.”   So far what the Original saw of her, he actually found her very likable.   No, he wasn’t going to kill this one like he had the others.   Dean Winchester was another story however.   That one was going to end up dying.   When he did, Elijah didn’t want to face the wrath of this particular Slayer.  Kriet could have been a Mikaelson in another life.  He was almost certain of it.

credit: james kriet

08/11/2019 04:07 PM 

Coming Home

Coming Home
Paragon /  Elijah Mikaelson/ 1545178
What is Family?

That question was something that Elijah Mikaelson had contemplated well over 1000 years now.   He had lived all over the globe in his long life.  Some places he’d had fond memories of, while others were full of nothing but pain.   The pain generally involved his father Mikael.   While plenty of human families would hold each other and spread genuine love toward one another over the centuries, not Mikael to his children.   Oh sure, Freya was the apple of his eye,  the others were not so much.  Henrik was the possible exception to that however.   He was certain that Mikael still blamed Niklaus for the death of Henrik even all this time later.   The youthful curiosity of two of his younger brothers would change this family forever.

Elijah sat on the sofa in their New Orleans home thumbing through one of his journals that he’d kept throughout his life.   With the crisp bite of autumn lingering in the air, memories of a life long forgotten began to rear it’s head again for the third child of Mikael and Esther.   Traditional families of the first century fought for survival against the superior odds of nature’s cruelty and the fact that the human race was still a young species.   Humans were fond of comforting themselves with an old euphemism That was a lifetime ago.   For Elijah and his siblings it truly was another lifetime ago.

Each fluid stroke of the quill that lay upon the parchment pages told of another story in his long life that had been wrought with all the passion of a far younger Original Vampire.  Elijah could recall each moment where he sat beside the writing desk by candle light and in some cases by lantern light to write all this that he would recall in some future age.  A stain here and a smudge there flooded his memories with what was happening to him as a younger vampire in the Old World and some entries that were here in the New World.  The underlying theme of all of it was the strong desire he had to see Klaus’ redemption.   Even when he had every right to and even hated his brother on occasion, Elijah’s words were still tainted with that desire to save his brother.   The cruel beatings at the hands of Mikael were always etched in Elijah’s mind.  He even faulted himself for some of them because he had the chance to stop their father, but he was afraid and could not raise his hand against him.

“Coward.”  The low word left his lips with all the disgust he could muster.  He let Mikael savagely beat Niklaus far too many times in the past.  Even the first day that his brother made the change into a wolf, Elijah had helped his father bind his brother to that damned post.   He could understand why Niklaus was so virulent in his hatred at times.  Being the outcast bastard child of a witch and a wolf elder was something that Elijah couldn’t fathom.   It didn’t matter to Elijah that they had different biological fathers.  Klaus was always going to be his brother and in many odd ways, his best friend.

He closed the book in his hands.  Elegant digits ran over the cover with great care and even affection if one looked hard enough.   All the memories were here.  All the times that they had been apart and even together were here.   These were the memories that Elijah had wanted Marcel to compel him to forget.   Now that he sat back home where he belonged with his brother and sister, Elijah was extremely repentant for that decision.   Forgetting who he was and what his family meant to him was the greatest sin of all.  Ultimately this is what Mikael wanted of him in the first place.  Elijah was not loyal to his father, he was loyal to his brother and sister.  How could he have even considered such a thing!

Elijah lay the book aside for the moment on the table in front of him.  He stood to his feet.  Slow steps to the crystal bottle of bourbon sat there just where Klaus had left it.  Elijah took the glass decanter and uncorked it.  The sound of the liquid hitting the glass was a welcome one.   The Noble One lifted the glass and rose it to his lips.   He normally would have just sipped it, but this time, he tipped the glass back.

The pungent liquid struck the back of his throat and down his gullet.   Elijah had a new beginning that he had to tend to and hopefully he could make it up to his siblings.   Klaus wasn’t about to let him forget it despite his overtures at reconciliation.   Elijah’s greatest obstacle wasn’t either of his siblings.  His greatest obstacle was himself.   That had never changed in over 1000 years and he highly doubted that it ever would.

credit: james kriet

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