Gender: Male
Age: 37
Sign:
Sagittarius
Signup Date: November 20, 2021
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03/11/2022 12:40 PM
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A Chaotic Reunion
A Chaotic Reunion Roleplay in Progress
𝕎itch'𝕤 𝕃amen𝕥 -- 03/10/2022 The elements of New Orleans shadows were in shambles. There was once a contract of understanding between the factions, coordinated by the Original vampire known as Elijah Mikaelson. The Honorable One among the siblings, so they say. However, the truce was null and void when humans came out of hiding as Werewolves. The Guerrera pack killed for the first time to activate the lunar curse to ignite their power and attacked. As a result the Original family had to take matters into their own hands. Killing twelve of the higher ranks to reclaim rings of power and then try to patch up what they could. As far as the world knew, Hope Mikaelson was dead, lost in the confrontation upon birth. Since then more plagues seemed to effect the family. namely of the magical kind. The Hybrid called Hayley assisted in tracking down the twelve rings and then she continued to build her Crescent Pack... but for a while Elijah was lost. Trapped by a powerful witch revealed to be their mother Esther. He was able to eventually wake from the curse plagued upon him -- but the spell ran deep with long lasting effects. For now, he had to go us on keeping the remaining factions in line. To try to fortify what was left of this pact the three factions had. To the point of even helping Marcel train his newly transitioned Vampires. But there was a problem. Marcel shared that the witches were on the move again. Conducting spells based on what they knew of history. If that wasn't bad enough there are new transitioned female vampires who are going missing without a trace of magic, which means that Werewolves are on the move too. A deep sigh ran through Elijah as he sat in a local diner trying to think over a newly drafted treaty. This time implementing the Vampire Clan, Crescent Pack, the French Quarter witches and the human government in a new agreement. With so much bloodshed a new understanding would be difficult, leaving Elijah to sip more tea than writing in his notebook. It was then that his mobile phone rang from the base of his inner chest jacket pocket. Normally he would be collected but this time he jittered a bit. The magic Esther left upon him had him flustered -- not to a degree that he was extremely noticable but jittery enough... With a small whispered sigh through his lips the sharp dressed vampire drew his phone out of its hiding place and looked at the name before answering and placing it to his ear. "Marcel... To what do I owe the pleasure? You do not often call me," he said softly. "Don't get used to it," the younger vampire's voice came back through the phone. The modern swagger cultured to his sharp tone. "You know that string of missing sirelings you asked about last week. Well, we thought we had a lead. Ended up ambushed by Werewolves and from the look of it it's rogue members left from the Guerrera Pack." "I expected strays, however I did not expect them to target you, unless..." Elijah started thoughtfully as his mind began to work over the possibilities. His tactical approach had not diminished over the centuries he had been alive. In fact, with modern adapting and ever changing modes of combat he had made sure to stay ahead as much as he could. "This does not seem like something rogue Wolves could conjure on their own." "They're not. We barely won the fight and took one for questioning. He managed to talk about a new movement of witches in the area before he took his own life. This was all a distraction and the base is unprotected. Elijah you're closer so I need a favor. You can get there first, you'll get answers to who's been kidnapping sirelings and.... and..." "What is it, Marcel?" "....There's someone there who's irreplaceable. I've kept her a secret but if the pack or the witches get her all is lost," Marcel said through a deep sigh. "And before you ask, you wouldn't believe who it is if I told you. Your best bet is to see for yourself." That was more than ever needed to be said. The last thing Honorable Elijah wanted was for more sirelings to go missing. From what he could see it looked like a trafficking operation but targeted to vampires rather than humans. And the dark creativity had no bounds when the supernatural was involved. As for this irreplaceable person, that was an interesting twist. Who could possibly be so important? Shifting to finish his tea and set his cup back down the sharp dressed man stood and turn to do a little tidying. The cup placed on the saucer, then both placed on the empty part of his main plate. Snagging his handkerchief with her finger he whipped it outward in a smooth clean motion to wipe his fingers. Drawing out his wallet her set $75.00 on the table with the receipt and set the pepper shaker on top of it. In his mind that was enough to pay for the meal with a healthy tip to apologize for not finishing the food given to him. Then he stepped out of the diner, folding his handkerchief to place back in his pocket. Making his way to the sleek black car parked nearby he was soon on his way to the warehouse Marcel occupied, hoping to get there at least before the enemy swarmed in full fforce
Valkyrie ᴬˢʰᵉˢ -- 03/11/2022 It had been little more than ten days since she’d risen and escaped the place of death that had become her birthplace. Ripped from her own peace in the afterlife she remembered nothing of, she had awakened with a scream and the black shrouded figures of Musselheim had terrified her no end. In complete survival mode, the newly resurrected woman, and sent candles, lit all around her, flying, blinding, and burning the witches, ending their chants as she took leave of the cloaked location at a high rate of speed. The naked woman had run into a man that had protected her, clothed her, educated her, fed her, and kept her safe, and not necessarily in that order; Marcel. Since then she had been carefully kept hidden away until the time was right. First, he recognized her as one of the later doppelgangers, but it was obvious she was not born of this century, or any that he had lived either. The pure innocence of the modern world kept her out of being Katherine, and Elena, so he heard, would not have done such deception and certainly not so well. He knew the story of the creation of the Mikaelsons. She was the one that made it possible, which meant she was the one that could damn them all. Her blood was the key, Tatia Petrova had returned to the living via a magical horror ride that continued its jolts and scares with every turn. However, she had been carefully sequestered, insulated always with protection until that night. She had been told to stay where she was, to remain silent, and to hide the moment she heard someone, Marcel promised he’d return. However, that didn’t stop Tatia from dragging a heavy chest of something (or someone) in front of the entry it for good measure. It had been a struggle for a svelte human body devoid of the enhanced strength that ran rampant throughout this city, and she knew it would not stop anything, but it might give her time to at least try to run. She didn’t know where, but she would flee first, fight second nonetheless. Tatia woke in this life just where she had left off in previous one, being murdered by the love of that life, in the forests of what would become Virginia. Her screams and adrenaline had reacted in a way that the idiot witches did not expect and truthfully she wasn’t a bit sorry. Truth be told, Tatia was completely finished with the magic wielders of this world. They had been nothing but harbingers of something worse. From Esther who used her to turn her children into monsters and effectively distorting the man she’d loved with all her heart into a murdering fiend, to these new witches seeking to destroy all of the vampires by subjecting her to a ritualistic mercy killing, no, Tatia was done with witches for as long as she could be. But if she didn’t get through the night, it wouldn’t matter much. Marcel had been kind, very kind. He’d had some of his most trusted people with her, at all times, she had been, and was still learning, the ins and outs of this new Millenium from indoor plumbing to how to work the microwave, she was constantly hungering to know more of this new world. However, as kind as he had been, he had not only kept her insulated from the outer world to the best of his ability he’d kept very important details from her. She knew whispers of the Mikaelsons, but no one would answer her questions regarding them, what happened to them, and more importantly what had happened to her. To her son, Bjorn. To Elijah, himself. She was told that Marcel would tell her when he could. It did little to assuage the doppelganger's curiosity. Tatia had been a pure and spirited wildfire in her first life, and she knew no difference now, except that bathing was a joy and no longer a chore, and one could buy bread easily in a marketplace. However, it tasted ghastly, but the days of grinding flour by stone were long gone (apparently one could buy the same horrible flour that made the horrible bread to make homemade horrible bread). So she marveled at it. She had also been encouraged to write, to keep a journal of things to help sort her mind out. Once she was taught how to use a pen instead of a quill, her handwriting was nowhere close to English. Rather she wrote in fluent Elder Futhark, the long forgotten language of the Norse Vikings. There was not a curve in her writing, all sharp lines and angles, and she was one of six that could fluently read, write, and speak the dead language lost to all but a handful of runes. It was here that she sat, using the moonlight as her only illumination, the backlit by the silvery rays that had come to fall upon the dark chocolate curls. Hers were softer than Katherine’s, and only the ends curled about, falling smooth and straight first before softly tumbling into the curls. She had allowed them to cut her hair just to her waist, and she had learned the subtle art of cosmetics here, different from those she’d used some thousand years prior. Kohl liner and soft rouge had been sparing but there, accentuating her luminous dark eyes, and thick lashes. She wore less now, seeing no need for it, not so heavy a hand, the soft blush of her light caramel skin was enough, or a bit of a cheek pinch away. Her hair had fallen forward and was tucked back behind her ear, as she wrote furiously fast but neatly. She had been so completely involved in her writing that she didn’t hear anything until it was almost too late.
𝕎itch'𝕤 𝕃amen𝕥 -- 03/11/2022 Silence came over the abandoned warehouse at Algiers when Marcel departed. He devotedly went to follow a lead because it was his young transitioned Vampires that went missing. Even the Originals could give the man props for the way he takes care of his growing clan. There were trusted vampires there to protect those who were young and still training but that fear was still there. Leaving the majority to stay silently occupied so that they didn't attract attention. The only one who knew about the mysterious young pure lady in the lower levels was Josh. He stood to guard her in particular along the hallway leading to Tatia's room, but he was still trying to stay light hearted. Texting his boyfriend back and forth just to occupy the time. That was when he heard a large slam and almost instantly his gaze rose toward the stairwell. It was enough to shake the foundation, followed by the sound of exchanged fighting and startled screams. Up above there were three Werewolves that burst in through the windows. Fangs down and barrelling to take on the vampires powerful enough to have day rings. The young sirelings seemed divided. Some trying to harness what they know and help in the fight and some turning to run in retreat. These vampires were captured first by wolves waiting outside. Josh only had time to send a distress text to Marcel before putting the phone away and preparing for anything to come down those steps. However, the flow of things began to change. The growling of the Werewolves began to dwindle down as a sharp dressed man entered the warehouse. Taking up a nearby chair Elijah easily snapped it apart and in a fluent motion threw one broken leg to stab through a werewolf chest. The other two charged and he handled them in a smooth motion. Blocking one punch to grab his forearm and twist. Using his advanced speed there was a light blur as Elijah side stepped the second attack and snapped the Werewolves neck. Turning his attention to the other he gripped the other broken chair leg in his hand. In a quick blur he crossed the room. The Werewolf slashed with his claws which Elijah dodged and buried the broken wood swiftly into his throat. "Rogue Guerrero Pack members.... This is becoming an annoyance," he said to no one in particular as he stepped along the bodies toward the young vampires standing with those guarding them. "How many are left?" "They came in a wave. Just three that time but there might be more," one of the vampires said. Elijah channelled his senses then. He could hear the heavy heart races of the young sirelings. At least their guards were calm, running on adrenaline rather than fear. There was a particular signature he was looking for though, which he found along the back window. One werewolf hiding behind some of the crates that Marcel hadn't cleared out yet. In a blurred motion of speed Elijah circled the crates. Sending messages with his cell phone that an Original showed up on scene. The Werewolf practically jumped where he sat and the Original slammed his fist into the base of his temple. Once laid out to the floor Elijah shifted to grip him by the throat and pick him up. Slamming him face first upon the crates. "Do not resist. I will kill you depending on my mood. You would do well to extend your life in exchange for information," Elijah said flatly. "Go to hell, Original!" the wolf snarled in his struggled. With a sigh Elijah snapped his neck in a swift motion. "Elijah!" came Josh's voice from the hidden stairwell, which drew the man's attention. At least there was someone who could offer answers and so the Original stepped toward him. "Jesus, you're a sight for sore eyes. Marcel said that if someone attacks she should be moved," he said with a light gesture down the hall. She...? Time to see who exactly was so important. And so Elijah adjusted his sleeve cuffs and made his way down the stairs in smooth strides. His polished shoes clicked in echo along the stone floor to the end of the hallway. When he reached it he reached for the doorknob to find that the door itself was enforced by something heavy. This girl was bold enough to put up a fight at least, but Elijah had no time for reasoning. If there is another wave of enemies then it was time to move now. So he stepped back two strides and with a blur of speed and boost in strength he slammed his shoulder hard into the door frame. The heavy brace shoved to the side and the door hinges completely busting against the force. However..... Elijah was stunned by what he saw there... A ghost seated at a type of vanity, writing lightly in scratched fashion. He words didn't interest the Original at all. It was her tanned skin, long brunette locks and the tender shape of her eyes and lips that brought the man to instant pause. Katherine? .....No, there was no mistake here. Elijah's very soul was set on fire and running cold at the same time. Unable to blink or take his eyes off of her for fear that this was some kind of dream. Or a nightmare. ".....Tatia...." he managed to whisper out under a shuddered voice.
Valkyrie ᴬˢʰᵉˢ -- 03/11/2022 It did not take enhanced hearing to know the battle that was looming ever closer. Josh, the kind soul that he was, had told her to stay in her room at all costs. And while she was no coward, she was no fool either. She knew well she was a lamb at a slaughter, and lambs had no business fighting with the honorable protection of their Sheppard dogs. That was a fast track to a fine stew. But instead, Tatia had busied herself chronicling everything that had happened to her the last ten days. From what she saw and felt, to who she had been introduced to, all of it so that if someone were to find her they would at least know, someone would know and remember she was here, that she had been here. Unlike her first life, but ten days of magic and mindblowing were laced with fear and confusion, and this was only about to become more so. She began to hear another sound, the shift in the static in the very air around her, well before the yelps began. Her pen paused as she listened, and then the tide turned, or so she hoped. The many growls were fewer, she felt the presence of less, and she could only hope it was Marcel that came to their rescue and not another player in this veritable gameboard of a city. As it was, she had dressed warmly, a simple fine sweater of a thread she’d never before felt, something called cashmere in a soft muted sage green, simple boat neck, that fit her well. She had become accustomed to the popular pair of jeans she was sporting, soft, indigo wash, fit to her hips and her legs beautifully. A pair of knee-high boots with a soft, but well-cushioned sole, she’d been specific in her footwear, as she knew there would be running tonight. And she would be damned if she was going to trip over her feet, again, and let her blood, her damned blood, lead her back into death’s arms. Tatia had slipped a light jacket over the fine light sweater in a black shade and passed the time the best way she could. She wrote. As it wound down, and she knew it the sounds of battle abated, dark lashes fell to her cheeks as she counted, slowly counting the seconds before her door opened, and was blocked by her minor barricade. It would be Marcel or it would not, and she would die of her own choosing and had long determined she would be a pawn to no one, not again, and certainly not for her damned doppelganger blood. This was something she still did not completely understand but there had been too little time for all that was necessary to bring her up to speed. First, survive, second, learn how to exist on a basic level in the twenty-first century, third, her mystical heritage. Needless to say ‘third’ didn’t happen very thoroughly. The doppelganger took slow deep breaths, which completely stopped when she heard voices outside of her door. They did not seem hostile, but that did not mean much in these days and times. Instead, she continued writing, her last sending reading; I will be killed by none other than my own hand, for I will not be party to another thousand years of agony and torture. Those deaths are on my bloody hands as well as Esther’s. The door exploded off the hinges and as she took a sharp gasp, her head jerked up and she saw…him. Blinking a few times, her lips still parted from the gasp that happened moment before her heart had stopped in her chest, and she couldn’t have taken a breath if she’d tried. She blinked a few times, and when the burning within her lungs began to be more than she could take she let it out. There was no soft sigh of joy, no welcome expression of love, no tears of thanksgiving; she screamed. And screamed and screamed. The tome forgotten in lieu of holding the fine caliber pen first out at him as the low chair of the vanity exploded back behind her. Shaking her head, tears did come, but there was no joy in her in this most unexpected reunion. She was caught just as far by surprise as he had to be. Marcel had told her nothing of his presence here. She would have escaped and tried escaping every moment after, had been honest with her; which was why he had not. And while logic dictated that to be common sense, there was no sense in the rush of white hot emotion racing through Tatia at that moment. Everything flashed across her face, as she had never been one given to deceit and had never attempted to perfect the schooling of one’s features. Horror, fury, anguish, terror, betrayal, and heartbreak were all common bedfellows at that moment. Shaking her head, Tatia backed far away as she could, moving towards the barred window. She would leap to her death before she’d let that man, come near her again. “You stay away from me, Elijah Mikaelson… I will not have your presence the cause of my death or my conscience. Not again. I will tear my own jugular out this time, do not test me in this.”
And true to form, that fine pen was pressed firmly against her carotid artery. Her eyes darted from the original finally, to look to Josh over Elijah’s shoulder, and gave a plea in those expressive doe eyes, she shook her head. “Not him…please, not him..”
𝕎itch'𝕤 𝕃amen𝕥 -- 03/12/2022 This was a dream..... no, a nightmare. One of Esther's damned visions brought on by this curse she placed upon him. Elijah's mind was at a completely dead stand still trying to reason something feasible out of what he was seeing. This woman should be dead and as the guilt threatened to drown the Original he could still feel her blood on his hands. This forever sin he carried was one that he had still refused to let go and yet here she was. Impossible. This couldn't be real. For the longest time Elijah refused to breathe or say anything beyond her name.... until she began to scream. He let out a shuddered gasp and stepped back toward the door frame but his gaze still couldn't leave her. Tatia was here, that scream unmistakable as it matched the last thing he remembered of the woman he loved. That was why this hurt so much..... This was a scream that should never exist again. For all the honor and genuine good intentions Elijah tried to uphold, he was not a man as he had failed to protect the woman he loved. Just when he had managed to find the courage to admit his feelings for Tatia it was all ripped away by two parents hell bent on preserving their remaining children. Not a single one of the Mikaelson children wanted this immortal life.... Elijah would have rather died one thousand deaths. This sin was one he had tried for hundreds of years to redeem himself for -- but there was no tie or polished suit that could mask the pain that crossed his face. Trying his best to stay resolved but as she screamed he felt his chest collapse. Tears stinging at his eyes as a hand extended to rest upon the broken door frame. "...Josh... I need you to listen to me very carefully..." he managed to finally breathe out. Josh was practically stunned on the spot as if death echoed from the room. His fingers clenched just above his ears in reaction to the blood curling reaction from the woman inside. Elijah was trying to wrap his head around the moment to form a plan and all he could think of was that he could not escort Tatia. He didn't deserve that grace. However. he didn't have to scramble about it for long. There was a muffled sound of an explosion from the floor above followed by broken glass. Elijah's gaze turned back over his shoulder following the sound and then instantly fell to the young Vampire. "Make sure no harm comes to her by whatever means necessary. I will ward off the enemy..." Turning upon his heel, Elijah made his way back down the hallway to the base of the stairs. Taking a deep breath to try to regain his bearings, the Original drew his handkerchief. Wiping the moisture from his face he wrapped it back again to tuck into his breast pocket. In a flash he was at the main floor again looking for the source of the sound. Three women came into view, all with Celtic style necklaces and bracelets. They were the ones on the receiving end of the werewolf's message just minutes ago. Upon seeing Elijah the woman at the front smiled wide. "An Original did come to this little backwater base... and I can sense the curse weighing you down," she said in a low and almost silky tone. "Weighing me down? .....Interesting choice of words. You are not of the French Quarter Covent. To whom do I owe the pleasure?" Elijah asked with a smile he placed by a trained front. There was nothing to smile about at this point and he was not in any mood to fool around. However he also could not afford to let them discover Tatia in the basement level. "More on that later." The woman raised her hand in a swiping motion and Elijah found himself flung to the side. His form struck the stone wall hard but the sharp dressed man quickly came back to his feet in a blur. In a matter of seconds he circled to the other side of the room, hoping for an advance from the back but the other two were ready for him. Thrusting their hands outward Elijah was once again thrown. This time hitting back first to the south side wall and dropping to his knees. The leader among them stepped forward again as Elijah moved back up to his feet. This time with purpose like fire in her eyes as she reached out. A magical grip took hold of the Original, lifting him well off of his feet. An intense pressure loomed over his throat before she twisted her wrist. A thick snap could be heard and his polished shoes twitched before his body fell limp. "Somehow I pictured this to be harder," one of the witches said. "It really could have been..... We must be prepared for when he wakes up," the lead witch said as she slowly lowered the limp man down just slightly. Stepping over to him she smiled wide and touched the back of his head, able to feel the bone she broke. Elijah's form seemed to hang in her spell bound hovering grasp like a rag doll, legs and arms simply hanging as she ran her fingers through his hair. "In order to break this family and claim New Orleans we need every advantage we can get." And so the witches loaded their new prisoner into a black van which was parked along the property. It was like all the young sirelings were forgotten. Even the corpses of the fallen rogue Guerrero werewolves we're left behind as the witches climbed into the van as well. The vehicle sped with the screech of tires echoing in through the broken windows. From what Josh could see even the efforts to search the building were abandoned as he watched the three witches take the Original away. Just in case they came back he made sure to stay in the doorway to be the barrier of safety between them and Tatia. "Holy sh*t..... they really took him," Josh said in a rush as he drew out his cell phone to quickly dial Marcel.
Valkyrie ᴬˢʰᵉˢ -- 03/12/2022 As Elijah continued to just stare at her with the shock and grief-stricken expression she found herself…confused. Should he not be taking her, killing her, destroying her once again? But no, he did not. If anything he turned from her and issued orders for her safety before disappearing again. Slowly, Tatia lowered the pen from her neck and simply stared at the broken doorjamb allowing her brow to furrow in thought. If her blood had truly been the catalyst for all vampires, as they were called now, all monsters had names, then it would be enough to kill them. However, unlike the French Quarter Witches, she knew full well that it had taken three drops of her blood to make them, and in her gut knew that three drops for each would end them-all of them. It was a strange common goal she had decided she liked, on her own, and kept her own counsel on it, of course, the eradication of all vampires. They all came from the ones responsible, ones she’d once longed to call family. But those days were long past, and yet it did not stop the rapid hammering of her heart as she slowly very slowly made her way over to the entry into the room, carefully sidestepping the larger door pieces and came to stand near Josh, as though the threshold were somehow spelled to keep others out. It wasn’t but she would talk with Marcel about it. Oh, she was going to talk to Marcel alright, she went from sheer terror to perfect indignant rage in a heartbeat. Nails dug into her palms as she began to shake from the intensity. Anger was always an easier emotion to deal with than hurt, and so Tatia embraced it fully. She watched in mute fury as Josh dialed Marcel and began to give him the detailed recounting of events that had just happened. Naturally, Marcel had first inquired as to his safety, then hers then asked for a tally on the casualties. Cursing at the news that Elijah was among them, she could almost hear the dark-skinned vampire shake his head in frustration. Marcel had been in mid-sentence when Tatia yanked the phone from Josh’s ear, finally incapable of containing her anger. “You will listen to me, Marcel, and you will listen well. I will be a pawn no longer in anyone’s game. Not again, not ever. If there are other Mikaelsons here, I will know of it, you will keep no shocks or horrors from me when you know that they are but walking specters for me. Are we clear?” It was the same voice she used with Bjorn when she had to reprimand the child, the “Mom Voice”. But it brooked no argument, no-nonsense. When she’d said her piece, ignoring the gentle and patient attempt to soothe her by calling her by her name, she thrust the phone back at Josh and simply exited his general vicinity, moving back to the vanity, where she turned the page and resumed her writing, albeit far more frantically than before. The truth was she was simply writing out the futhark alphabet as the ability to string sentences together was completely beyond her right now. She was fighting to keep it together, to not break apart. For all that she was living in the future, these days of modern conveniences, she was still a Viking woman in heart. And ten days in a new millennium did nothing to assuage those long instilled preconceptions of life. She wouldn’t break down, not until she was alone. She hadn’t when they’d told her Leif had died in battle, she hadn’t when she was shunned from her village, and she hadn’t when times were difficult in Mystic Falls some thousand years prior. Tatia Petrova was not about to start now. Men were not the only strong ones in her culture, in the culture, she and Elijah had shared once upon a time. Women were expected of it as well, and while it may not have been chopping wood or hunting game, but an inner strength that was to be the glue of a family, to keep her household together. Tatia had no household now, no son, definitely no husband, but what she did have was her pride, and she would breakdown, she would access these emotions, wild though they were, and she would sob, she would wail, but she would not do it in front of anyone, which meant until she could get to a room with a proper door, that was a long time coming. It turned out to not be so long as she anticipated. Naturally, she was given another room, namely Marcel’s as he assured her he would not be using it soon. She accepted it merely to ease the fragile nerves she was clinging to. However, now that moment had passed Tatia found herself more inclined to listen. Upon his arrival home, Marcel explained himself and went so far as to apologize. “It’s not that I wanted to hide him from you, T, it’s only that if the rest of New Orleans learns you’re alive, it will end very badly. For all of us. I’m trying to keep you safe. But keeping you from them doesn’t mean keeping them from you. It won’t happen again.” It had been enough to mollify the doppelganger and from then she excused herself to his room. Closing the door, she managed to hold herself together long enough to lock it, despite the fact that anyone in this city could plainly knock it down, and slide down it. The wood was cool against her back and the cashmere sweater was a softness she appreciated as the tears began to fall. Wrapping her arms around her knees the woman sobbed as she lay her forehead to them. Her tears were almost silent, a trick she’d perfected over the years. Crying was a weakness, and if any caught you, it was humiliation, so it was done in private, as private as possible anyway. Tatia was under no misconception that everyone in that room beyond could hear her, know exactly what sort of gut-wrenching sorrow she was dealing with. She had not expected to see him, and by the looks of his reaction, he had not been expecting her either. Which gave weight to Marcel’s words about keeping her safe. But now Elijah knew. And worse, he knew and had been subdued by the witches, no one seemed to truly know about. A potential rescue was being formed, but with too little information their hands were tied. Oh, how Tatia was coming to truly despise witches.
𝕎itch'𝕤 𝕃amen𝕥 -- 03/12/2022 When an Original went missing word spread like wild fire -- but among the members of them Elijah was the one who caused the most ripples. Despite all the disputes it seemed that all of it was forgotten as the members of the New Orleans vampires were on the move. Niklaus himself was out along the bar scene to gather information where he could while any of his lesser ranked clan members were physically searching the streets. Any who actually had day rings were heavy at work looking. Hayley and Jackson came together to offer help from their Crescent Pack when it came to the outskirts. Even as Marcel did his best to explain things to Tatia his own vampires were whispering of their desire to help in the search. Elijah Mikaelson was a figure of honor and peace. Among the monsters of the night that was an understanding they all agreed on. His treaty between the factions was actually working until the Guerrera Pack came out of hiding. There was a peace to New Orleans that wouldn't have been in place without Elijah. Marcel let Tatia have his room, doing his best to explain that the Originals never willingly became monsters and among them Elijah disagreed most of all. Then he let Josh continue to guard her while he joined in the effort to find the Noble Vampire. Coming back out to his main meeting area, Marcel was shocked to find three witches there. French Quarter witches standing with Hayley, Jackson and Niklaus. "Whoa, a little prior notice for a meeting would have been nice," he said sarcastically as he moved into the room to join them. "It's not ideal for us either," Jackson said as he stood with his arms crossed. "Elijah's not anywhere in the city and not along the bayou," Hayley said as she reached up to tuck her brunette hair back behind her ear. She then slipped her hands into her pockets as her deep gaze trailed toward the French Quarter witches. "And what the hell are they doing here? It was witches that took Elijah in the first place." "Ah, yes. I made a very thorough inquiry as to their involvement," Klaus said as he lightly paced, his lips curling into a cheeky grin at the word 'inquiry' before turning to face the group. "I had no problem gutting their tombs in my search, to which they agreed to help with a locator spell after providing proof that they were not involved." "Must have been one hell of a rage quit," Marcel said. "Well, they had every vampire in New Orleans outside the gates to their territory, and with Esther as one of their own by ritual there was no saving them from destruction," the Hybrid said in a smooth type of sensual pride. "Look, you guys want to find him or not?" asked one of the witches. The group looked toward her and she stepped forward to continue. "A locator spell is simple enough. If it's a new Covent then they want to make their mark so likely they've been researching and watching everyone in New Orleans. You're going to need an outsider to even get close." "Supernatural under cover work. Great. And the best person to decide something like that is the guy we're trying to rescue," Hayley said.
Valkyrie ᴬˢʰᵉˢ -- 03/12/2022 Tatia, for her part, had allowed Marcel to keep her closeted away, but she listened. She heard what was said, what was not said. She paid attention to Marcel when he came to tell her about what was happening, and all of it was placed in that diary that held only a dead language within it. Closing her eyes, Tatia, sighed very quietly. She knew better than to let her presence be known when there were witches about, and at the magic wielder's statement, she had scarcely begun the prayer of hope to the contrary, when Marcel opened his mouth. Nodding the vampire looked faintly smug, and crossed his arms across his chest. “I think I have someone who will fit the bill. But it has to be their choice.” Naturally, Hayley looked to Marcel arching a brow, but he didn’t spare a glance towards the hybrid alpha queen, keeping his gaze locked firmly on the French Quart witches alone. He didn’t give much in the way of further explanation, or any explanation at all. Instead, he pushed off from where he was standing and went to pick up the map of New Orleans that had been spread out on the bar and laid it out on the coffee table. “Do the spell. We’ll take it from here.” He did spare a look to his sire, who seemed fairly amused, and nodded gesturing graciously, in a way that on Niklaus could, dripping of sarcasm in motion, with a toothy grin. It had taken a few minutes to gather the items necessary, upon which, Marcel continued to keep Tatia a hidden wild card, her scent masked, even if her presence could be felt by those that had shared a century with her, even that was mildly masked in close quarters. Courtesy of the very witches that were bent to begin locating none other than the Noble Stag himself. All this…fervor to find him, to find Elijah genuinely baffled Tatia. He was a monster, they were all monsters, but perhaps blanket assumptions and labels held no water here. Marcel could have chained her up, killed, drained her, done any number of horrible things to her, and he had not. He had treated her with kindness, with respect. He had provided for her, and while she had been angry she was more confused and left with a tumbling tempest of emotions that continued to come up with far more questions than answers. Elijah seemed to be a man of some standing, else, why would so many other species, species known to brutally hate one another, work together to find him. He did not pluck her from her room, quite the opposite he’d been horrified to see her, and the shock and guilt that raced across those still handsome features truly stuck with her. She woke to that face, and sometimes, most times, she dreamt of it. Some nights waking herself up screaming, others in tears, others with a smile only to devolve into tears as the present infected the past memory. But his thousand years past, was her fortnight, perhaps a bit longer. It took a lot to finally come to a decision. She’d done so before Marcel had spoken up, effectively, what was the phrase Josh used, voluntold? Before Marcel secretly voluntold her for the job. She would do it. It would be on her terms, however, and she would have back up. Quick and fast escape, when it became necessary. She was not afraid. That was a lie, she hadn’t even spoken to Marcel about it yet and already she was shaking. But if she was going to have any answers about any of this, he was the only one that could give them to her. And she cursed him one again, closing her diary quietly, restraining the need to throw it, or something across the room. The meeting continued, and so she could only sit and wait. “And just who do you have in mind Marcel?” Hayley it would seem didn’t get that same understanding shift and frowned as he looked to her and then to the witch, simply not dignifying her question with a response. Something that would usually have chafed the tough as nails Hayley, had her closing her mouth. Instead, she asked the witches a question amping up the irritation instead of suppressing it. “Any idea where he is? The sooner the better, ladies.” Tatia heard the bite in her words and was genuinely surprised by it. It was not something that women, let others almost know about, but Tatia heard it as loud as possible. This Hayley had feelings for Elijah, feelings he may return. And for all that she was angry, and, and hurt, and betrayed, the sense of being kicked in the gut was not diminished. She shouldn’t have such a reaction. He was a monster. He MURDERED her. He stripped her son of a mother. He….moved on. And yet, why wouldn’t he? She was dead. She had nothing resembling evidence, she had pure conjecture and nothing else, but emotions that had been on high alert for too long were taking the run of her mind, and instead of pushing it aside they attacked her. Nodding she sank to the floor then, journal forgotten, and wrapped her arms around her knees, back to the wall. She didn’t cry. But she hurt. And she would have her answers, and she would have then soon.
𝕎itch'𝕤 𝕃amen𝕥 -- 03/13/2022 The witch sighed, knowing that the only reason the French Quarter witches we're still alive was because the vampires needed their magic. Finding Elijah Mikaelson was a matter in which his brother Niklaus and the alpha members of the Crescent Pack we're ready to kill over. So, she held out her hand to preform the locator spell. The trail started here at Marcel's base and followed a winding road through the forest. Never even stopping in the bayou. All the way up to meet the water edge of Lake Pontchartrain. "Here... There are residential houses along the lake and he must be in one of them," the witch said "That's beyond our territory... but it will be war if they intend to hold him captive," Niklaus said. "Hold tight. Let me talk with my people and see what I can do. You guys go in there teeth first then it'll bring all of New Orleans into the fray," Marcel said before he stepped away toward his bedroom. Marcel wasn't necessarily wrong. Ever since becoming a hybrid it seemed that Hayley's mind set matched more to Klaus. Blood first and ask questions later. It really was Elijah that kept the supernatural community at a dull roar rather than a mad feeding fest when the sun goes down. Strangely, Marcel couldn't help but to think this witch attack and the previous disappearances of young vampires are not connected. And so he entered the room carefully to plead with Tatia to help with this delicate rescue. Meanwhile... A deep groan came over Elijah as he began to stir back to life again. An Original vampire was harder to take down for werewolves and other vampires. For a witch there was no hands on treatment to bring a vampire down. So, an Original could be taken captive. However that would be the extent of it normally. These witches could sense a hex upon their prisoner and took time to find it. The spell left behind by his mother ran deep, locking visions of a dark past behind a red door that was slowly opening. They just needed to find the trigger. As the Noble Vampire shifted to sit up, he noticed his environment was part of an old relic. A broken down single room tower that had eroded away over time. It was fashioned into a bedroom setting with a large bed he was laying on. Lighting was provided by candles and the wood flooring accented by a run. Every window boarded closed and curtains drawn. A deep sigh ran through him as he shifted to stand. His first instinct was to look up. The stairwell was broken away but about 80 feet up was the base of a bell mount. This was once a church ground bell tower... This was confirmed when he stepped toward the archway that lead out to the ground. Looking out he found the tower to be at the back of a gated field belonging to a church. An abandoned church from the look of things. He saw surrounding forest and water in the distance. 'This is too easy.... something is wrong or I could simply bound over the gate and flee through the forest...' Elijah sighed and reached out for the open archway to find that his palm was forced back. As expected this was an owned piece of property. Whoever this was knew that without permission he could not cross the threshold. In a manipulating sense that turned this repurposed old bell tower into a cage. "I must say, you are the calmest vampire I have ever seen," came a woman's voice as she approached the entry from the dirt path. "Elijah Mikaelson... the Honored and Noble Original. You also have a reputation for being tactically sharp. Honestly, I expected it would be Rebekah we would capture." "Either way you intended to capture one of us, I assume. Do not pass me off as the type who waits in distress. I have no intention of making my capture easy," Elijah said as he shifted to slip his hands into his trouser pockets. The witch smiled and purposefully stood just outside the archway, looking him over one inch at a time. The fashion in which she did so was like a woman on the prowl. If she had her way she might just peel his clothes off with her eyes. "To whom do I owe the pleasure. You did say I would have that answer later," he said just to jog her focus. "My name is Andromeda, and you are my captive. And truthfully I don't expect you to give yourself willingly to any of my spells. I do have one advantage over you though," she said as she finally stepped across the foundation into the room. Elijah drew his hands back out of his pockets, ready to fight defensively as his eyes drew dark and fangs sank down low. Andromeda held out her hand and the Original felt a sharp pain at the base of his left shoulder blade. He let out a deep snarl and she clenched her first bringing him to his knees. The witch then reached out to cup his face, forcing him to look up at her. Elijah reached up to take hold of her wrist and she used her power to slam him upon the floor harshly. "It's going to be a pleasure extracting ritual materials from you. Now, be good and cooperate, Elijah," she said in a low silky tone. The witch reached to her belt and drew out a Celtic blade. Old in nature, she took a moment to marvel in it. Then her gaze shifted to her victims. Elijah was breathing hard, his vision blurred as his fingers began to tremble. This feeling was one he grew to hate lately and he shifted to try to stand again. To move backward if he could. Just a trying motion brought a wave of light headedness because of Andromeda's magic. He let out a desperate sigh as she stepped forward and reached out to grasp the base of his tie, holding hard to keep him in place.... Little did she know that she had just triggered the next her magic was holding onto. Esther sharpened his need to be polished and clean and so messing with his tie was enough. Elijah's eyes sank a bit darker if that were possible and he reached for her throat. An action she didn't expect and so she let go to practically leap for the exit. The vampire charged after her only to find the barrier of the threshold hit him hard. Unable to leave he practically struck like as if he got a stone wall and fell to the floor. The dust kicking up from the old foundation all over him. For a moment he was released from the grip of both magic and the hex but just seeing the dust start to cling to his suit started to make him feel a cold sweat. A need for violence that made him feel sick to his stomach. "Something evil is at work here.... and it's not even your doing is it, Elijah," Andromeda said, clearly shaken from what little she saw already. "Another witch got to you before I did." "Please.... If there is any chance of cooperation then it must be by choice or you will never get close to me with that blade," Elijah said as he staggered to his feet. Light headed a bit he reached up to adjust his tie and then tug his handkerchief free from his pocket. He was desperately trying to think clearly as he dusted himself off. His eyes slowly regained their natural color and his fangs slowly sank away again.... leaving him to sigh through a shuddered breath. "It's obviously my blood you want. Thrashing me about is not going to deliver your desires results." "Well, your peace keeping nature isn't going to get you out of there either. Although.... I do still have ways of forcing you. Your hunger will take you eventually," Andromeda said before returning the blade to it's sheath on her side and turning to walk away.
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03/01/2022 09:12 PM
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Entangled Beginning
Entangled Beginning Roleplay in Progress
Valkyrie ᴬˢʰᵉˢ -- 03/01/2022 The news had been greeted with the stoic grace befitting a Viking wife, acknowledging the messenger's report, passed on to her, well before it was brought to the light of the rest of the large village. From that moment on, Tatia Petrova would now carry the moniker of widow. Once the door closed, Tatia sank down the door, leaning back against it, and didn't bother to choke back the sob that escaped her. Pressing the back of her hand to her mouth, the sorrow and mourning hit her hard. Her husband was dead, had fallen in battle at the hands of the inhabitants of what was considered a weaker settlement further north. It would appear that was not the case. They had been aided by the natives of this land, who did not take kindly to their land and resources usurped without care. This would go on for centuries but started early with the Viking raids. The expectation was clear. There were no widows in the village; period. Only in her twentieth year, Tatia still had so much life left to live, and yet the elders cared not for her wishes. The law and the cultural rule were set in stone. A wife would die with her husband’s body, sending them both into the afterlife together. And it was a stupid rule as far as Tatia was concerned. Yes, she wanted Leif, her husband, to be taken by the Valkyries to Valhalla where he belonged, but she held no belief that her presence on a pyre would assist in that. His spirit would have been chosen on the battlefield, not drifting up from the honored funeral pyre on the water. Moreover, her choice at the life resided in the little blonde-haired toddler playing with a small wooden ball, on the woven rug. Swallowing thickly, Tatia shook her head and made the decision that would change hers, and Bjorn’s lives forever. Rather than setting up and preparing herself for the suicide by a fiery pyre, she packed. Essentials only, but she did believe in taking the large loom from the small bedroom and began to load it, piece by piece, into the small wagon that Leif had used to carry his hunting animals back to the house. Tatia worked quickly and covertly at the rear of her cottage. Once she had everything she felt she needed, she went so far as to leave Bjorn carefully blocked in with what was left of the bulky furniture, while she hitched the singular mare they had to the wagon, and kept her ready for the evening’s promised theatrics. And they came with the same berserker rage of a true Viking Raid. Tatia’s refusal to step onto the boat that would send Leif’s corpse down the river aflame setting his spirit free had completely shaken the village. Naturally, the collective gasp rolled through the crowd and the silence in its wake deafening. And yet the spirited brunette lifted her chin to punctuate her point. Bending down then, she picked up her two-year-old son, who had been brought to watch his parents abandon him, and nodded to the Warrior leader of the village. She announced her departure, and before anyone could stop her she brushed past the large man who was left sputtering only to walk to the back of what would now be her former home. Keeping Bjorn well wrapped up, she donned her own heavy cloak and without further ado, Tatia Petrova took her leave of the settlement that would be known as Waynesboro, Virginia, would make her way to a new life, but where remained to be seen. Three days journey, that was how long it took her to slowly get the mare over the road that was more a path and manage to move throughout most of the night, for fear of brigands and thieves. Thankfully, the Gods had been on her side and neither had accosted her during her journey to her new home. Rolling into the Mystic Falls village limits, the woman looked exhausted. The dark shadows under her eyes gave proof to it, coupled with the messy look of her hair, and yet she moved with the grace of a goddess herself as she dismounted the wagon leaving her son to sleep soundly in the large basket that housed him warm and ignorant of the anxiety coming off his mother. The strength and pride that was projected, replaced much of the anxiety that ate at her, and it was more of the same that plagued her since leaving Waynesboro. If the good people of Mystic Falls would not take her in, then she would go to the village, and then the next, hoping to outrun gossip and rumor, regardless of how much truth was in it. Naturally, people came to see and stare at this newcomer. Word spread fast, as she was a mysterious woman of exquisite beauty, despite her exhausted state. It didn’t take long for Tatia to retrieve her son, who continued his nap, thank Frigga for that, as he rested against her shoulder, and join the elders in the Great Hall. It took a bit of explaining, carefully chosen words on her part, dancing between misdirection and playing upon grief and a mother’s love, but never once lying, before it was determined, by the assistance of one woman, whom Tatia would learn to call Esther, that she and her son would be welcomed into the village. A deal was struck. She would barter for meat and furs that would have been provided to her by a husband, whom she had yet to choose and she’d stressed that it would be her choice and no other, but should she require other assistance she was welcome to ask for it. The terms were generous, and she was to be given a very small cottage down the way, off the main thoroughfare of the village but carefully insulated, to ensure that she would be made welcome; Tatia did not think for one moment that it did not also mean, watched. It would be one that allowed room for just Bjorn and her. A singular room, with a small food pantry and curing shed behind. Pine slats made up a smooth floor and it would be home, for as long as she could make it such. In return, it was agreed that she would do various amounts of mending, and cooking for those warriors that were alone, without wives to care for them or do such domestic things. Stepping out from the great hall, she and a now very awake Bjorn, looked over the crowd that had gathered. There was a gentle pride in her as she had no wish to alienate these people, these good people who had found themselves with a spirit of kindness and generosity upon them. So her smile was faint, but there, yet so was the subtle life of her chin. The Petrova Fire would not dim, not now, not ever. All that remained was where she would set up her new home, and she could only wake for Mikael, the great Warrior to decide when, and where that would take place. She had no idea just how pivotal the Mikaelson family would be in her life just then, if she had, she might very well have passed Mystic Falls by without a glance, as it was, she faced them head-on and welcomed it.
𝕎itch'𝕤 𝕃amen𝕥 -- 03/09/2022 Life in a smaller village was more ideal than the city, which was why kindness was so much easier to find. However, that didn't mean that life wasn't hard. For a young person in this rough age growing up was an early expectation considering that life was worn thin. Most were expected to die in their early childhood and so bearing many children was encouraged. For the Mikaelson family that was a problem that could only be solved via witchcraft although the leading wife did not share this with the rest of the village. The woman Esther was a highly respected wife who worked with her husband to provide livestock in return for traded commodity in the small settlement. It was a rare type of teamwork to behold, and one certainly not found in the greater populated and closed quarter cities miles away. Esther and her husband Mikael kept this secret absolutely strict but even then plague would come swift. Their daughter Freya did not exceed her childhood as she was plagued by illness and lost. Mikael mourned deeply but soon turned his attention to his son Finn and newly born son Elijah. However, this was also when he became harsh and cold. His means of teaching his children becoming more brutal for the sake of strengthening them. Not another plague would catch one of his children again -- and he would make sure of it. Esther was a brilliant wife as far as social standing. As the years passed she was a brilliant home maker, full of compassion and grace. She also provided a total of five sons and another daughter and still managed to find the means to work hard for the family business. But not every son was impressive to Mikael. All of the sons came to be treated brutally. but among them Elijah and Niklaus seemed to band together. Taking their father's cruelty in stride as they grew older. Leaning more toward their mother as she secretly managed her time as a witch with her sons Finn and Kol. All the while all of them stayed protective over their young sister Rebekah and youngest brother Henrik. There was a system quietly developing. Blending into the social standing of the village but also within their own fold. Especially now that the Mikaelson family were wealthy enough to own their own farm and work in trade communication with the village. This really was a working man's world though... as Elijah grew older he found himself to be more literate, and he was allowed to do so because he survived the recent plague along with his siblings. Niklaus was the warrior among them all and so he worked joined with him tactically. Both were strong in their choice of weapon but in the moment of things Elijah was the resources expert while Niklaus was the front man or fighter. The rest of the family hunted and worked to produce the livestock to trade. This was how Elijah came to meet a young woman new to the village. The Lord of the land gave her the grace to stay with her young son and she was ordered to work with the Mikaelson family until she could get on her feet again. Tatia Patrova was her name and she was travelling with her young son Bjorn. A single woman was expected to run the household means of both men and women... but the compassion in Elijah wanted to make things at least a little easier for her. And so he set of in the early morning to make his way to the hut she occupied. It was small but if she made the most of it then there was potential to build more. After a moment to make a mental note of politeness, Elijah stepped through the fence line and made sure his side quiver and bow didn't knock anything along the way. He then extended a hand to gently knock upon the panel door. "Madam Patrova, if you are present? I came to make sure you settled smoothly. There is still much to be done," he announced softly.
Valkyrie ᴬˢʰᵉˢ -- 03/10/2022 Tatia was indeed making the most of the tiny one-room cottage. She had not had many visitors, well she hadn’t had any visitors at all really, but that was not surprising. She was an unmarried widow, with a son, that had been shunned from her village, yes social calls would be long in coming. So never one to dwell on the negative, she spent time playing with her son and working to make her new house a home. When the knock on the door came, both she and Bjorn looked towards it suddenly. There was a sudden stab of anxiety, that was immediately soothed with a smile. Standing from where she had been rolling a small wooden ball, painted crimson, back and forth with the little one, Tatia smoothed her gown, brushed her hair back, and moved to open the door. Coming into view of the warrior outside, her smile was radiant as he spoke of checking up on her, something no one else had bothered to do. His face was handsome, she knew of him to be one of Mikael’s sons, the bow and quiver were not missed as she gave an appreciative gaze of him. Stepping back she gestured for him to enter if he liked, as the sweet aroma of freshly baked bread wafted from within the cottage. “Thank you, please, come in. may I pour you some mead, Master Mikaelson?” So formal, but formal was good. It was safe. And safety was important. She did glance to the little one still on the floor who was suddenly very fascinated with the door and the image of the man just beyond the doorjamb. A smile lit up Tatia’s face then, different than the one she’d shown him, soft, gentle, proud…a mother’s smile and she didn’t hide it though it shifted as she turned her attention back to him. “That is if you don’t mind a three-year-old biting at your boots.” The toddler was up in a flash, and just as quickly a strong feminine arm reached up and caught the dark-haired little boy by the back collar of his shirt and shook her head. “Uh-uh, Bjorn. We talked about this, you do not race for the door. Now say hello to Master Mikaelson.” Giving a conspiratory smile to Elijah, she stepped aside once again inviting him, albeit silently, into her home, where she would leave the door open to ensure the sanctity of her virtue. “Welcome, Master…” The little one trailed off and looked to his mother, who nodded. “Mikaelson.” The child breathed out the word quickly, “Mikaelson.” Staring up at the great warrior for a moment or two longer before he headed back into the small cottage and earned his freedom from his mother…for now. “He is spirited. Like his mother. Please, come… You mentioned there was more to be done, how can I be of assistance?” Her smile was soft but her gaze was slightly wary, she knew that it was like her face and her body that played a large role in her reluctant acceptance into their village. She was a woman of childbearing age, with proof of fertility, and she was considered quite beautiful. She did no doubt, that it would not be long before the proposals and matchmaking would begin soon. She had weathered in her last village, choosing her heart’s desire and not that who had been chosen for her, and she would do the same here…or she would leave. The only real betrayal of her that train of thought was the faint flash of fire that sparkled for a moment, in her deep brown eyes, dark and yet still luminous, with various shades of dark chocolate mixed with milk, but only visible up close. However, rather than betray her thoughts, she left the door open, and with Elijah still standing there she moved to her hearth, and deftly removed the baking bread from the fire, lest it burn. She set it up on a higher block of wood that kept Bjorn from it, a sort of fence around the flames. She’d used the slats from her loom initially, but as she was still putting it together, it lay in a half-completed mess off to the side. Turning back to Elijah, a smile on her features as she looked at him over her shoulder, dark hair trailing down her back to her trim waist. “I can offer a small crock of butter, and perhaps a small drizzle of honey if you like?” Honey and butter. They were coveted luxuries she’d taken from her larder before she’d left, Tatia was not a stingy woman nor was she foolish in her gifts. But for this man, she could. Something about him made her smile, how would she know she would be looking into the face of her personal Angel of Death.
𝕎itch'𝕤 𝕃amen𝕥 -- 03/10/2022 The young man let his gaze fall upon the woman that opened the thick door. It was the first time he had really seen her up close, considering that he was on the sidelines for the decision to let her stay. There were already whispers -- both good and bad. Some of adoration for her beauty and some perverse fantasy talk between men about what kind of bedroom dwelling she might be doing... but for Elijah there was something different. A compassion that was rare among men, which was also why he was not favored among the village -- or even with his own father. When he looked upon her he had hoped to find her strength and help build it into something irreplaceable. When introduced he gave a soft nod toward the young boy who was playing with a small ball on the floor. Shifting to step across the threshold after he was invited inside. Always after invitation, which was more Elijah's way of being polite. Others would barrel in, and infact that is to be expected in this day and age. She was a woman after all, and any man of higher respects would likely feel entitled to whatever they would like to take from her -- which would include her body if they desired. "Please, I am far from the Master of this land. As far as the farm is concerned that titled should be bestowed upon my father. All the same it is good to meet you, young Bjorn," he said as he shifted to close the door behind him. The glisten of the fire was a welcoming warmth and despite the small cramped space she really did make the most of it. Storage in ways out of children's hands and still manageable and all the while homely. The scent of her baking was divine as well, which he gave a grateful nod. "Mead and a slice sounds uplifting, to which I would be delighted. We could then speak of what you know or perhaps need to be taught. I have a few inquiries to your service which may work for a project of mine. You seem more.... headstrong to put it gracefully," he said with a natural soft voice. As he spoke he couldn't help but to admire the lady before him. Her attention toward the bread all the while the light of the fire seemed to dance off of her form. The deep color of her gown and dark hair accented by smooth tanned skin. She was clearly a hard worker otherwise her skin would have been pale for lacking sun exposure. To him it was a charming physical trait to a woman. His mother Esther had insisted he come here to assess Tatia for what she knows, but he also knows her mind. Likely she intends to point all of her sons in this girl's direction as she has been trying to match them to a bride for years. Why exactly hadn't the Mikaelson sons been married yet? For Finn it was his lack of interest. He would rather study in mother's secret arts. Kol enjoyed these arts already and was talented but he was a wild child. Rather deal in social dabbling than actual wedding commitment. Niklaus was focused on making impressions to finally gain father's grace, which meant he was more interested in battle and wild ventures with women than marriage. And Elijah? He wasn't interested in the typical of social norms. Favoring the hunt of his long now and tactically setting traps for the kill. He was a gifted hunter but he wasn't a warrior. He could hold his own quite nicely with the hand axe on his side but he clearly had no care to come to an offensive. For a world where men were meant to build and protect a home and family, he seemed unconditionally loyal to the one he was born to and so marriage wasn't on his mind. "To start with, I do bring game kills back to the village. Our family cuts and manages the meat but it would be resourceful if you could press the hide. The leather and woven wool or fur would make a fair trade, which would at least supply you with coin. And, the small leavings of the cutting process could be passed to you. We have no need for it. Your boy can grow strong by more than just bread," he said softly.
Valkyrie ᴬˢʰᵉˢ -- 03/10/2022 Tatia was genuinely surprised at the courtesy extended to her by Elijah. She did not dare to assume that he was the norm here, as in their culture, a patriarchal society, left her, as a widow without a voice…or so they thought. Tatia had never been without a voice and would not have her hushed here either. Leif had admired it and allowed her rein, something many others chided him about. He did not keep his woman in line, he did not fetter her to the hearth, rather he let her run spirited, and in response, she listened and respected only him. It would be no different here, nor anywhere else she may be required to settle, a small price to pay for her dignity and pride. Gesturing for you to have a seat in one of two chairs that had been set neatly not so close to the fire that they were in the way, but close enough to ward off the night's chill when it came. When he accepted her offer for food and drink, she paused only to give a faint smile to him, something different as she regarded his humility regarding title. It was rare that, in a world where male hierarchy was paramount, to wave off such things was something she found interesting and curious. However, rather than speaking on it now, she inclined her head with a brighter smile. “Then you must call me Tatia. I insist.” Turning her attention back to the loaf that had cooled some, she carried it, wrapped in the cloth to her cutting board, and turned it out. Leaving it to cool a bit further, as she tended to the mead. She had been given a starter, with which to feed and use the yeast as a base for things from bread to mead, this was not her mead, nor her flour, it had been given as a gift, a charity, as she knew everything would be…until it was no longer. That moment would make or break Tatia. The half-wild heart refused to think of what would happen, best-case scenario she was forced to wed not of her choosing, worst, she was shamed…again, and turned out. This time without her pride, nor her dignity. No that would simply not be allowed as a possibility. She poured two tankards full of the beverage, and then turned and began to slice the bread. Once that was done, the doppelganger turned and pulled the sweet treasures from a box she kept high as she could, even having to rise to her toes and stretch to get it. Frowning for a moment, she regarded the box with scrutiny. Rather than asking him, as any woman might have, if only to curry his favor and seem to need his person, Tatia, simply didn’t think about it. Leif was away often, and she had learned to fend for herself for the most part. So instead of asking Elijah, who could have reached the box easily, she pulled the other chair over, climbed on it, retrieved her box, and climbed down, as though it were the most natural thing in the world. From there she took out the cool butter and the honey, lightly began to spread some of the thick cream butter on both slices of bread, and drizzled the precious honey lightly over. Once it was done, she placed each on their own wooden plates and carried the lot over to where Elijah was. She offered him the plate and the tankard of mead before she sat and joined him. And like clockwork, Bjorn came from his hideyhole, any shyness forgotten in lieu of his mother’s bread. But she had to stop suddenly at Elijah’s words, as though they had cut through any and all layers of posturing and bravado she had up. “Your bow can grow strong by more than just bread.” Her mouth stayed open for longer than she might have kept it as a moment struck her dumb and incapable of moving her eyes from his. Dark brown like her own, softer than any others she’d seen in the village, and before she turned away she smiled and then shifted her attention to the toddler attempting to climb her diminutive height for the sweet treat. “I would like that,” Tatia turned her attention from Bjorn as she took a seat in the chair that had only just moments ago been used as a stepping stool, and sank into it before continuing. “However, i am not skilled in pressing hide, I can, however, spin and weave quite well. From shearing to cloth, I am quite skilled. There are few fibers that I cannot be spun, I have found when one has the right incentive.” She turned her attention to Bjorn and answered softly. “And he is always the right incentive.” “I have a fair hand in stitching as well, both clothing and wounds, as they come by me, depending on the Norn’s favor.” Chuckling softly as she said it, there was a wry smirk that ghosted her lips for a moment as though there was a secret between she and the Norse Fates. But it melt into something more serious as she tore her bread in half and then half again, and gave it to her son, who promptly sat down, as he’d been taught to eat, watching Elijah with eyes that belonged to his mother. “I will be happy to learn, however, if there is one to teach me. I weave and spin as it gives me the advantage to watch my son. But I am willing to do almost anything that will help me to be less a liability and more a participant in the village. I appreciate your kindness in this, Elijah. Thank you.” Tatia didn’t break eye contact with him for a pregnant moment before smiling faintly and reaching down to wipe the honey from Bjorn’s face with her thumb and as she didn’t have a cloth handy she sucked her thumb clean and chuckled shaking her head. “Do you have children, Elijah?” It was a loaded question but she left it in the air nonetheless.
𝕎itch'𝕤 𝕃amen𝕥 -- 03/11/2022 Tatia... Elijah couldn't help but to commit the name to memory as he stepped toward the chair to sit down. A smooth motion simply to be careful of the furniture she did have. But the name. Her parents must have had high ambitions as or possibly had fanciful hopes for her, naming her regarded as a fairy queen. Perhaps she was though, as he let his gaze meet her's for a moment as she insisted he call her by name. She truly was beautiful and not just for her fit body, smooth skin and long brunette hair. There was something else... he just couldn't place it. "Tatia indeed, then..." he said simply as he let her do what she must. As for Elijah's own actions, he did genuinely want to help her. However his methods were usually scrutinized by other men in the village as being too soft. He was not the gruff and hardened sort of man that his father had become. Or any other considering that warrior strength lifestyle and point of over inflated pride was normal among men. In truth, this Mikaelson's mannerisms we're not crafted or enforced by a man at all. Each night his mother Esther would massage a type of cream to the center of his shoulder blades which cast him to a deep spell bound sleep. In this state she would enforce certain moral points. He would have the night to sleep and let them sink in and then the witch in hiding would use an orchid ointment to wake him. But one thing was for sure though... he couldn't help but to be entranced. She refused to confirm, and she strived to be independent. To Elijah that was a beautiful means of living although he knew that would insult many men. Usually women like this would be pinned and used by a man's sheer effort to brutally make her understand that she was simply a woman. She was meant to serve and obey. To bear children and take care of the husband and home. Elijah knew that he had no right to... but he wanted to protect her and this boy of her's. When she returned, offering him the tankard and plate he gave a grateful nod as he thought of where to begin. Softly tearing the slice of bread he took a bite and sighed contently. His gaze then shifted between the two before him and nodded in approval of her skills. As far as medical personnel go many of them never last. Between the passage of plague and thrashings of soldiers who have seen their fair share of battle medical practices never stayed consistent. Care for any serious injuries were brutal, but it was good to know that Tatia knew the basics. "Children are a motivating force. Mother takes great pride in her children as well, leading her to do quite a few jobs that would normally left to men...." His gaze trailed to the toddler again. He seemed polite and silent, which was likely the household teachings considering they had a guest. Elijah figured he was free to be himself once the two of them were alone again. But the. she asked him if her had any children and he shook his head lightly. "No, not of yet. Women have come and gone but I have not found one for which to keep. My ambitions lie in craft presently rather than settlement and it appears betrothal is not patient enough to meet me," he said with a light chuckle before bringing his beverage to his lips. The liquid was soothing, drawing a calmed sigh out of him. He then began to think about her skills and right away Elijah noticed she was in a bit of a hard standing situation. Spinning and weaving are valued skills, but even if she had the materials she has no tools to do so. Same with her stitching skills. Tatia would be able to step forward with the conviction but lacks means to sew because she has no needles and also no thread as she would need to spin it first, and so on. It was a tactic to put her in a pinch to where she would have to sacrifice her sense of self to get any help. A means to force her to conform so that the woman could be married without any trouble and the man she cares for would wholely treat her as property rather than respect. "Its good that you are willing to learn. I fear you may have been bootlegged into a lifestyle premeditated for your undoing, which is not impressive at all." Taking another bite of his bread he shifted to sit up more as Elijah thought about the best methods to help a new arrival like her. "The village does have need for your skill but I notice that you have no spinning wheel for which to do so. I am also willing to wager that to get one you would likely have to give some services that are.... undesirable, all due to lack of coin," he said for the sake of the innocent ears in the room. Elijah then finished his slice of bread rested his spare hand on the curve of his tankard. Fingers tapping lightly as he thought. "...Are you familiar with potting, Tatia? If not that could be where we begin so that you can barter potted preserves for a spinning wheel."
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12/02/2021 02:29 PM
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A Spell For Hope
A Spell For Hope "I found a witch to preform the cloaking spell... You know the one, Klaus. In return she wants an explanation for Elijah's absence......." Rebekah said softly into her cell phone as she tenderly rocked baby Hope to sleep. The newborn girl was absolutely precious and she brought out a change in her father that very few saw openly. A side that she hadn't seen since their childhood, and that their brother Elijah spoke of redeeming. It was because of this beautiful baby that the blonde could even dare to ask for a task like this to be done. At the same time, she also felt that it was appropriate. She managed to get her freedom after hundreds of years living under the shadow of Niklaus' control. It was time that Elijah had the same freedom -- even if it does pierce into his polished resolve for family vows a little bit. "I know there is no excuse. I do not think it would be easy at all, but it's unthinkable that he would abandon her. After so long the truth should be heard, as we have all acted as nothing ever happened....... He will be furious but Phoenix is the only local witch not of this Covent to preform a cloaking spell." Rebekah continued her conversation as she settled the little princess into her crib. making sure that she was placed straight upon her back without rolling to one side or the other. Standing upright again she smiled and admired, her hand reaching to clasp the phone now. "Of course. He will be furious with both of us. What do you expect? ......I can do this, Klaus. Hope will be safe. I know what to say to sway our brother to come here." It was strange to hear the once brutal Niklaus agree to have his influence removed. Rebekah had a theory that Elijah was made to forget and the only way to do that was to have another Original preform a compelling effect over him. Otherwise the stubbornness of Elijah would have continued to see the woman he loved. But... there was something else. Maybe his soul was also yearning to get back to her. A person as guarded and well reserved as Elijah Mikaelson never let anyone get close. When he did manage to find someone charming he would explore that personality quirk -- which might lead to a little intimacy -- but it would never be a one night stand. This hidden witch Ally was another story though. In Rebekah's mind the way he seemed to just let a Hybrid named Hayley Marshall in emotionally was far to quick. And so, Rebekah prepared for a road trip, intending to conceal Hope as she travelled so that no one would suspect. The lovely witch would have her explanation, from Elijah himself. -_-_-_-_-_-_- Two days later... -_-_-_-_-_-_- The travels back into New Orleans we're not recommended but when an Original was determined there would be no changing their mind. Rebekah just needed long enough to sway her brother and for that she let Phoenix babysit little princess Hope. When she came into the compound it was just after the family had found out that the White Oak Stake was missing. Elijah was determined to find it as this particular weapon meant life or death for an Original. He figured that one of their enemies would know where it was, but exactly which one was the question. In the meantime he had hoped that Davina would preform a locator spell to pinpoint the stake. When Rebekah found him he was studying the maps the family had of New Orleans. If he were to keep the weapon that kills Originals then where would he put it? "Worry looks rather taxing on you, Elijah," she said softly as she stepped up next to him. Hearing her voice the man instantly straightened to face her. A different type of worry was spread across his face but before he could say anything she held up a hand to stop him. "No need to worry. She's hidden, safe and just fine. There is something needed to keep her that way though." "Anything you need, sister, you only need to ask," Elijah said softly. Rebekah gave a paused nod and the body language alone was enough to bring questions. "I imagine this is a difficult task, then?" "No. Well... in a way, which would all depend on you, brother," Rebekah said softly. Elijah couldn't help but to stand in pause, his eyes squinting just slightly. Usually a statement like that was followed by a childish need for a brother to rescue her from. Rebekah then reached for his hand, tugging him away from the maps spread across the table to sit down in a nearby chair. Not just for a casual chat. The body language was more as if she felt he needed to sit down for this. "This witch is familiar to you in a way that... in my mind... explains your easily accumulated affection for Hayley," Rebekah said softly as she sat in another nearby chair. Elijah stared for a moment, not expecting a talk like this from her. Usually it was Niklaus that held the relationship possibilities over his head, which he has expressed his resistance. His feelings have also been openly stated to his younger brother but only in great crisis, like when Hayley had nearly died multiple times. It didn't come across to Elijah to expect his loving younger sister to bring up the subject. "Hayley and I are not--" "I am not shunning you, Elijah. More rather... I think your soul rests with another, whom you cannot remember. And so, reflected in your instinct to get back to her, you may have fallen for Hayley due to their similarities," Rebekah said. Elijah couldn't help his stunned silence as it seemed that his sister had gone mad. He would never openly choose to forget someone that he loved as deeply as he was growing to love Hayley. Although it did seem one sided in the effort to form a relationship. She had her pack to think about and was growing to become a leader there all the while he had goals to support her in her pursuit of family. In general he tried to press this feeling toward counting her as family -- and by extension that should be where his close feelings come from. However, he seemed to fall deeper in a way that his instincts would normally be running away from. Every lover he has ever had died horribly by the curse running in his veins. He couldn't produce children and so there was no future to build. He always stayed guarded when he had realized feelings like this were blooming. This theory made no sense at all and he was completely flabbergasted by it. "Rebekah, that seems a little farfetched," he said as he leaned back in the chair to relax. Or try to relax, considering that her words baffled him. "Isn't it? So, tell me why someone who has endured one thousand years of pain and lost love in brutal ways would let a girl in? Not only that but why letter in so quickly despite the moral undoing it could bring to your dear younger brother? Or the confusion it would bring to little Hope as she grows older?" Rebekah asked. These concerns were exactly the reason why he hadn't proclaimed his love for Hayley... He shook his head lightly and shifted to stand but Rebekah reached for his hand to tug him back to sit. Holding it tightly, she wore a serious face that he hadn't seen since the three siblings were sealed together inside the cemetery. "Elijah... What I have to tell you is important. It was one year ago that you loved another. I was so confused when you openly abandoned the life you were getting ready to build -- a very real life worth building. She held you for all the ugliness of your fears, became that medium in which you faced them and for the first time in bloody well hundreds of years you were happy. Genuinely happy," she said softly. ".....I would never choose to forget someone like that," Elijah said flatly. "No... which is why I theorize that you were forced to forget." She then reached out to touch his face, giving a soft sigh as Elijah seemed to shake his head. The concept of him letting go of a love like that when he has always been devoted was insane. The motion alone was enough for him to meet her gaze again. "I know it sounds terrible, but I would never play with something like this. Her name is Phoenix Segreti and she is a witch. Not only can she give you your memories back but she can give you something no other woman can, Elijah..." "....And what is that?" he asked, the tone of his voice clearly unsure if he was ready for that kind of answer. He had held back on love for so long and only just recently let the cracks in his resolve show. Kisses were exchanged between him and Hayley but they were not official. And now Rebekah was telling him it was all in his soul's yearning to get to someone else. That his feelings were false in an echo of other feelings. "If it has been a year since I.... supposedly lost my memory then why did you wait until now to tell me this?" "You deserve honesty, brother. I admit that I failed you there... It was fear that compelled me not to say. For what felt like forever it was fear. But the night Niklaus brought Hope to me there was a change that I never thought I would see. He was genuinely happy and moved to have a baby. He was devastated to have to send her away, and for once he was acting selflessly. The goodness you see in him -- I saw it displayed across his hope as he literally held her in his arms. When I searched for a witch to preform the cloaking spell I learned that Phoenix lived from what her Covent did to her. She will preform the spell but she thinks you have abandoned her," she explained. "If I truly loved her that much then I would have never abandoned her..... What happened to her?" he asked, his throat running dangerously dry. The only way he would have ever fell into a situation like this was if something had happened. This was exactly what he had feared would keep happening. Loving him was likely what put this woman into danger -- if what Rebekah said was true. The more Elijah heard the more tempted he was. The blonde gave a smile and shifted to stand, which he couldn't help but to huff and follow. Reaching out to grab her arm in a soft grip, just to stop her from leaving. "Rebekah! Sister, you cannot bring me a story like that and then withdraw. If I am to believe you with facts like this then--"
"Truthfully, I believe your insistent prodding means that you are thoroughly tempted. Of that is not belief enough then have no idea what is." Rebekah then reached I to her jacket, drawing a piece of paper out of the inside pocket. She then offered it to Elijah who's gaze shifted lightly. From her to the paper and back again. "I managed to find freedom. Niklaus managed to find hope... Now, it's your turn, brother. Happiness looks far better on you then these polished suits you tend to wear," she said as she placed the paper in his hand. Without another word she stepped out, leaving the man to wonder what the paper was.
And wonder Elijah did. Not about what the paper was but more about what to do with it. He already knew that it was an address and damn his sister knows that this was a tease. Dangling an object of his curiosity and leaving it up to him in fear or flight -- Elijah possibly paced for an hour. His fingers flipped the little folded piece of paper over and over between his fingers. If this was true then he would have some explaining to do to Hayley. They had already shared in a couple kisses but nothing they had acted on because she was to be married to Jackson. With a truth like this it would be worth seeking, because it would be a love reclaimed. This woman... her name alone ached at him, leading him to pause and finally open the folded paper. The address inside, he committed to memory, looking over her name again and again.
"Phoenix Segreti.... a witch from before your return to New Orleans in pursuit of my redemption," came the voice of Niklaus from over his shoulder. Just hearing him speak was enough for Elijah's heart to skip a beat. When he looked back over his shoulder he found a genuinely saddened expression upon his face. One that was rare and nearly unheard of... and so he couldn't help but to listen. "It was my doing. I compelled you to forget, Elijah. It was in my effort to satisfy something I longed for. I could not ignore what I was: a werewolf. I wanted to be alpha constant for my family. A family of vampires that I continued to treat like...."
"Like a pack you would run and take care of," Elijah said softly. He sighed lightly before stepping toward him. Lifting a hand, he held a stern index finger just inches away from his brother's nose. Niklaus opened his mouth to speak again and Elijah placed that same firm hand on his chest. "No, this is not your time to speak. This is not just a casual deception, Niklaus..... I am going to meet her and understand exactly what I lost and you... I will deal with you when I return."
With that said, Elijah set to the street. He chose to walk in order to clear his mind before he came to a luxury apartment. Soon he found himself standing outside the Four Winds apartments and he hesitated. Standing out on the street with his hands tucked in his trouser pockets. To enter or not to enter... Abandonment is never a nice subject to approach. If things were true then it was all the reason to come here. He had to know. Did he choose this or was he forced to forget? Drawing the paper out he looked over it again. Room 19. Taking a deep breath, he stepped inside the main lobby. It seemed to take forever for him to travel the hallways. Finally extending a hand he carefully knocked on the door.
Phoenix Segreti... What was she like? There was no going back now. For better or worse he was about to find out.
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12/02/2021 01:24 PM
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Witch In Distress
Witch In Distress Born into a very powerful family Phoenix was the youngest of 15 children, she was also a triplet to the Gingermint triplets. She was always the baby, she also was the only one who enjoyed her witch part more than her wolf part, a part that she's not going to trigger. She just wanted to be a witch, she felt more powerful that way. In that time of her practicing her magic she met a very strange yet particular Vampire who happened to have a interest not only in her witch wide but her wolf side. Niklaus Mikaelson, an original vampire, who was also the worlds first and only Hybrid. In this time he learned a lot about her, she did a lot about him as well as his family. She agreed to be on call if he needed anything, when it came to finding the doppelganger he needed to find. It took a few months for her to finally find the doppelganger in Mystic Falls, Virginia. So being the dutiful witch she was to Niklaus she called and told him. He explained he would meet her there in a few days, he would get everything taken care for her. She ended up in Mystic Falls looking for Niklaus but instead of Niklaus being there he had text her stating that his brother was going to be there to assist her, since he was following up on a different lead, as well as making sure the family was safe. One think about Niklaus Mikaelson may want to keep his families loyalty to him he did love and wanted to protect them. She took a deep breath as she walked down the street heading closer to the Mystic Grill where she was supposed to meet this other Original family member. Her long red strands glistening in the sun as she walked down the street wearing a short black leather skirt, and a red polka doted halter-top. She was wearing her iconic read heels as she walked down the street, every man stopping and looking as she passed them. She was a very beautiful woman, a woman who knew how to look good as well as use her looks to her advantage. She walked into the Mystic Grill as everyone looked at her and watched, she saw the man in the suit, he was a very good looking man as she walked towards him smiling softly revealing her perfectly white smile separating her red lips. She extended her hand and smiled "Elijah I presume?" She asked softly as she looked at him. "I'm Phoenix, Niklaus said we could go over what I found?" She said softly just smiling from ear to ear. There was something about this man, his smile, his whole personality just intoxicated her and pulled her in to him even more.
"You have a certain grace with witches, brother," Niklaus said as he followed his older brother into the piano hall of the Manor. He had asked twice and the vampire in a suit disagreed. There has been too much sadness in his life when it came to witches but for some reason the Hybrid was determined. "Niklaus, do try not to forget that I am not a fool. I am disinclined due to past occurrences. My only question is this: what is in it for you?" Elijah said as he stopped to adjust his sleeve cuff. Klaus had snagged it in his insistent tugging, but he swallowed down an annoyed groan and fixed it. "Alright, if we are laying secrets out upon the white oak table… I do need an ally. Witches have a means to magic that vampires do not. Need I say more?" he said, but after a pause Elijah gave him a hard eye. That squinting expression to try to read what he might not be saying. "Alright, fine. I do have an objective. I get tired of not being able to come and go. Mother's grimoire has the means to compel the will of nature to bend -- or so I hear. It gets rather annoying when a human is a straight sod and I cannot get to them because of invitation. But you! You benefit too. You could finally understand Mother's grimoire as well and thus perhaps answer all those questions you have been seeking." "My questions have no quarter to your squabbling, Niklause--" "Then perhaps to past pain then? There is magic to allow some mortality in there. I understand that much. Help this witch with her inner demons and she can help you. Besides, she has found a doppelganger that you have been looking for for quite some time," Klaus said with a smile. Blasted temptation. That was all the reasoning Elijah had when he departed from the Manor toward Mystic Grill. He would be meeting with a witch who was a mystery all because she found remnants of a doppelganger he lost. Somehow this felt staged, but still he put on his best face. After a trip in a car, he took a moment to adjust his tie and then made his way inside. Lust was thick in the air to the point where Elijah could taste it. Thirty eyes drifted toward all angles of the suit. Some women and some men but all of them knew not to touch. He ordered a bourbon, full bottle and two shot glasses to kidnap into a corner. A sure sign to the rest of the establishment that he was here to meet someone. What he didn't expect was such a scent to come in through the door. There was an aura… similar to his brother's. Not just a witch but also a wolf. He could sense the power that flowed through healthy veins as well as the venom still purified. She was dangerous and yet… pure. The clacking of heels stood out even over the music until a figure came to extend a hand in greeting. When he looked up from his seat, Elijah couldn't help but to smile. She was fire in woman form standing out in the wooden tones of the grill. So, he stood to return the greeting. Extending a hand to shake softly. "It's a pleasure. Phoenix? Is there a last name with that? It is quite a name…. Pardon my rudeness. Yes, I did come in Niklaus' place. He feels I have more grace with witches and he would rather not lose an ally." Although there is more than meets the eye. He wanted to say that but curiosity drove him. He wanted to find out the conventional way, and so Elijah gently tugged a chair out from the table. Offering her to join him the way any gentleman should. "The bourbon is my treat tonight. Unless you prefer something else?" he asked as he moved to sit down across from her. Looking at the man standing in front of her she smirked softly at the question as she sat down at the table with him accepting the drink she shrugged a bit. "Last names don't get told until I know I can trust you. Mikaelsons have a very nasty reputation." She said softly as she quickly downed the glass of burboun. She took a deep breath making a funny face before she went straight back to business. "So in this town, there is a girl, her name is Elena Gilbert. She is a dead ringer for Katherine. Every spell I've cast, and every book I have has led me to the doppelganger." She paused for a moment as she looked the man up and down once more. He was so elequently dressed, as if he knew something noone else knew. He was the picture perfect man. However, Phoenix didn't know it then but this man will be her undoing. She took a deep breath and looked at him. "Why did Nik send you and he didnt come?' She asked softly now feelig like maybe there was something more benind it. Was he a double crosser, did he really want it out for Niklaus and all of his followers? He was handsome, his suit fit him well, he was distinquished, well educated, he just looked like a dream in a suit. Phoenix couldn't stand it anymore she just needed to get back to what Niklaus needed from her. She took a deep breath and shook her head as she bit het bottom lip. A million questions ran trough her mind as she closed her eyes for only a moment to clear her thoughts. She was a witch yes, but she was very empathic. She hated it most times, but on others it was great. Studying the mans features she smiled slightly as she felt her cheeks get a bit warm she smiled at him softly. "I don't mean to come off rude, but why are you here? I mean I've been dealing with that lunatic brother of yours, so why does he care what I do? Or that you do if that even matters to you." She said softly before grabbing the bottle of burboun pouring more in her glass. She brought the glass to her perfectly plump red lips before tipping it and letting the brown liquid go into her mouth swallowing as she looked back at the man. There was something about him that drew her in, she couldn't tell what it was about him that drew her in but she was intoxicated from the moment they met, She couldn't help but stare at him until she noticed him doing the same. She smiled softly as she looked at him shrugging softly.
Family history strikes again. it seemed that there was no escaping it, and normally an immortal man like Elijah would let it go. Conduct his conversation and be done with it. Life goes on, after all -- and yet something within Elijah just wouldn't settle. Once the lady was rested in her chair he returned to his, letting himself relax. His gaze looming a bit over her as she took down the shot glass of bourbon. This woman knew how to have fun all the while making sure that business goes on. It was when she mentioned the doppelganger that he was reminded of why exactly he had come in his brother's place. He was trying to find peace in a darker event in his life and the doppelganger was the key to that. However... he had already met Elena and made amends. Perhaps Niklaus failed to inform her of that, which means that he has another agenda here. Truthfully there was someone much more interesting than even Elijah imagined sitting right here, considering that Phoenix managed to get a smile and light chuckle out of him. "Ah, yes, that truly is a poetically true statement. Likely no one knows that better than I do. Niklaus is.... difficult even at his best of times," he said softly. When she shifted to pour herself another drink he couldn't help but to watch. It was almost like the color red was a stamp of adentity to her. She mastered it so perfectly and there was no better example of that than her lips. So defined in color they demanded to be seen. Even a well level headed man like him couldn't help but to notice… It was when she noticed his staring that he fidgeted for the first time. Sitting up again to gently pour another glass as well. "If I am to be honest -- which you deserve that much -- I have a theory as to what his direction is. As for my own, it is more a need for change. He insists on control over family ties and I will not let him have it. So, sending me instead is likely a distraction while he scrambles to think of another angle. Childish, I know…." He then gave a light sigh as he thought for a moment, bringing the shot glass up for a drink. There was something that shifted within him, at the possibility of possibly being caught staring at a woman. Especially at the realization that she seemed to stare back. It was so rare that a first impression charmed Elijah Mikaelson. "I do have to give him credit where it's due, though… It did seem to work. So... for curiosity sake, what would it take to gain trust enough for last name familiarity?" he asked, his palm lightly swishing the bourbon in the circular Manor. Just in a slight motion to occupy his hands. Alright... grace with witches aside, he really couldn't help but to flirt with this one. She seemed different somehow.
She bit her bottom lip as she watched him, her eyes on his every move, what was she doing? Was she really attrackted to this vampire? She was always told, don't get mixed up with vampire business it will leave you nothing but heartache. But she couldn't help it, something about this family drew her in and kept her there like a moth to a flame. But she knew better god did she know better. Something about this one was different though, he seemed gentle and kind, something she definetly didn't get off of Niklaus. He was cold and only cared for himself, yet this one in front of her was different she smiled softly at his question as she raised a brow. "Since you did offer me a drink, it's Segreti." She said softly as she looked at him. She wasn't sure why she would break so many of her own rules after meeting someone for just a few moments. She took a deep breath sighing softly before bringing her glass up to her lips one last time before allowing the liquid to pour into her mouth as she swallowed it. She looked around and shrugged her shoulders as she looked at him softly with kind eyes. "Look, I wasn't going to say anything because people around here want Niklaus dead, I was threatened to get him here." She said softly as she looked at him before she looked down then back up at him. "It's not safe for you or your family to be back here in mystic falls. I was hoping Niklaus would be here because well he usually would have no problem ripping the hearts out of anyone who put him in danger. I needed his help more so that anything." She said softly coming clean to the man in front of her. She wasn't sure why she was spilling everything right now but a part of her wanted to protect this man as she looked at him once again sighing softly. "I can't leave but you still have time. They will kill my family, I have to get my sister before they realize I told you everything." She said softly looking at him with a complete fearful look. Her sister was part of a triple born she was her twin, yet she also had a brother. Her sister and brother have activated their warewolf gene, Nix hasn't. Which meant she was the only magical one out of the three, the only way anyone could get her to do what they want is to put one of the siblings in danger.
Elijah couldn't help but to silently go over the woman's full name in his mind. Phoenix Segreti. It had a ring to it. However, there was an instant change of mood when she let her surface persona fall. Her features going from confident smile to fear and desperation. Almost instantly Elijah's tactical mind went to work, realizing that Niklaus convinced him to come instead because he knew something was wrong. He should have noticed it before. His brother even gave a hint to fix what was wrong with the witch -- it all fell into place now. Someone put her up to this, and so to enforce this threat they were likely here in bar. Maybe even with their hostages. "It appears that times like these I can be fortunate in my choice of a corner table," he said in a tone that was still tenderly soft but somehow so dangerous. The threat was clearly there on polished and elegant tone. The truth was that Elijah was more dangerous than his younger brother. While one brother had a terrible temper and self centered will to brag, this one was a calculated aggressor. "I assure you that no harm will come to you or your siblings... but I will grace you with the warning that this bar will close early on a count of hazardous conditioning," he said with a light smile, shifting to stand from where he sat. Biting her bottom lip she listened to him, she thought he would be furious with her that he would want to try to kill her. Looking at him she took a deep breath and nodded. She couldn't help but be frightened yes she was a witch but when it came to her family she would do almost anything for them. Hearing his last sentence she looked at him. "What is it you're planning on doing? If you attack here someone may get hurt." She said softly before coming up with an instant plan. She looked at him and smiled softly. "You might want to take cover." She said softly before grabbing his hand incase he didn't want to so she could protect him. Just as she grabbed his hand she lifted her left hand flicking her fingers a bit as the fire sprinklers went off , some customers just stood up and simply left the others quickly began screaming as if it were acid rain. And well it was, but only to vampires she smirked as she flicked her fingers once again. As the water stopped she quickly too her hand back from him as she smiled. "One thing I've learned about this stupid town is they really don't trust vampires and put vervaine in everything." She said softly as the vampires began to get back up and gain back their strength "You're going to die Witch, and your sister too." She shook her head as she looked at Elijah before she quickly closed her fist breaking the mans neck. "If you insist on fighting, you will lose." She smiled softly as she looked back at Elijah, she couldn't stand the thought of him being harmed as she smiled softly at him. "We're in this fight together." She said softly with a nod hoping he also agreed There was something particularly attractive about a woman who stood her ground. She stood and even in heels she was shorter than him... but when she grabbed Elijah's hand it was like the two might as well be equal in this fight. With a wave the vampires in the room -- except for himself -- began to writhe in pain. Not a single enemy here would make it out alive and between the two of them that would be true. When the waters died down a vampire in a leather jacket could be seen cowering toward an exit from under a table. Elijah's movements were quick as a snap, crossing the distance to take hold of the man by the color of his jacket and arm. With a swift turn he had the vampire slammed face first upon the table where the wet liquid began to burn at his skin. After just a moment he jerked the man upright and he snarled. "Get off me, Mikaelson--" And with that he was slammed again for the damp table to continue to burn at him. "Your last moments are dwindling. If you intend to prolong them I suggest you make them count with information," Elijah said flatly. "Piss off! I'm not telling you a thing," the man said as other vampires began to advance. "Very well. Perhaps one of them will." And without hesitation Elijah ripped the vampire's head straight off his body. A simple snapping of the neck the man would have been able to wake up. But a lesser vampire like this doesn't wake up from a full beheading. Elijah's gaze then crossed the bar for those that remained, stepping back to stand next to Phoenix as he unbottoned one button of his jacket and then undid his sleeve cuffs to slip into his pockets. "Anyone who has information. I will have it whether you tell me or not. Whether you keep your head remains up to you. Now... shall we?" he asked openly only to have the group extend their fangs and start the advance. To which Elijah gave Phoenix a light smile. "Of course... Ladies first?"
Phoenix watched as Elijah ripped the vampires head off. She bit her bottom lip as she brought her hand up shaking her head as the others went to advance towards him. She smiled softly as he stepped back to stand next to her. A small smirk formed on the red lips as she heard his statement. She took a deep breath as she closed her fist caused most of the vampires screaming out in pain as they grabbed their heads. “With pleasure.” She said softly as she watched the vampires try to fight against her it wasn’t until she saw someone running towards them she was distracted. She screamed out “Elijah, look out.” She focused her attention to help him when she felt a stinging pain in her neck. It looks as if her own sibling was the one to attack her injecting her with some kind of liquid that made her eyesight blurry. Before falling unconscious she saw Elijah being attacked by the vampires and a wolf. This was truly impressive. With single hand motions alone -- not even a need for incantation -- this witch was able to bring the group of vampires to their knees. She had quite a polished level of control too as Elijah didn't feel the effects of these spells against his vampire blood. He may not have been the intended target for tonight, but he had to admit that this was an ideal way to meet someone. Stripped of security Phoenix Segreti had nothing to hide from him and she was quite honorable. So... he could trust her. Seeing her direction, Elijah decided to step back and handle this side of the bar. Two vampires soon had their hearts removed when he heard the lady shout. Elijah looked back over his shoulder in time to see two more advance. With a swift sweep of an arm he punched one in the chest, sending him flying back. Then reared back to kick the other at the side of his knee. He staggered to the floor only to be picked up and thrown over the bar counter. That was when he saw a figure cross the gap. Rather than fully attack Phoenix he grabbed her around the torso and stuck her in the side of the neck with a needle. The way the two looked beside each other, they were unmistakably related. 'The hostage... Miss Segreti was the hostage and she was not even aware...' Elijah thought as his heart raced a bit. This whole thing was a trap and it all laid out thickly in a matter of seconds. ten vampires surged madly onto the scene, catching Elijah from all sides. He managed to fight four of them off and started in on the second wave when a scent came across the room. "Damn!" he snarled as he shifted to dodge the tackling motion of a werewolf. Vampire venom was easy to heal from. The last thing he needed was to be bitten by a werewolf. While it wouldn't be enough to kill him the power of this venom would still burn at his system for days, slowing his body down dangerously. This trap was fashioned for Niklaus. Did he really make a collective enemy out of vampires, witches and werewolves enough to motivate them together. If Elijah managed to get out of this then he would need to take his brother for a serious lashing. For now he was trying to fend off the vampires as much as he could, but the advances of a werewolf didn't help. Eventually sheer numbers overpowered him as Elijah finally had two of the vampires tackle and pin him against a nearby wall. One more at least would help to hold him, securing one arm each and then a headlock to keep him in place. "It's a shame that Klaus didn't come. Oh, well. Any Original will do," the witch said. "You have me. Let her go," Elijah managed to choke out against the headlock. "I can't have her telling your family about us. You may not be able to die and that's okay. We can make a nice profit off of you." Elijah struggled but the vampires kept their grip on him to a point where he could hardly fidget. The werewolf approached, his eyes pale and fangs extended. Elijah knew what was coming... he just didn't expect it to be so ruthless. The headlock was lifted just enough to grip him by the back of the hair and keep him still. The werewolf let out a small growl before fiercely taking hold of his target. When he sank his teeth into Elijah's neck the vampire's let him go. The sharp dressed man shouted in pain but the werewolf didn't let go. He took in the taste of Elijah's blood before withdrawing. Then shifting his posture and focus he bit harshly into the other side of the Original's neck. Any normal vampire would have died from the venom, but this one struggled still. It was after his kicking and twitching stopped that he passed out. With a harsh motion the werewolf heaved Elijah over his shoulder to carry him out to their car. The group would meet again out in the country, where Elijah could remain contained. There were dark and painful plans to set in motion for him. The moment Nix was unconscious her brother picked her up and carried her to a dark colored van. He put her in the back making sure she wouldn’t get harmed as he drove. Hopping in the drivers seat, shutting the door, reaching for his seat belt he shook his head. “Nix, all you had to do was lure the original into the grill. Why do you have to get so involved at times?” Shaking his head he started the van, before driving off the side door swung open once again. “F***, Turner why did you just up and leave like that? We lost some good men.” The man snarled at him as he shrugged shaking his head. “Y’all took too long. Now put that damn vampire in here and let’s go.” He put his foot on the brake as he put the car into gear. Once the other male hopped into the passenger seat the fan sped off, heading east towards a small bunker. Once outside a run down looking building he put the car in park, turning it off as he got out of the car. Just as the drivers door swung open. Hopping out he walked around to the side door, opening it she was starting to come to and trying to figure out what the hell was going on. In her mind she was still fighting along side Elijah Mikaelson. Shaking his head Noah grabbed a syringe out of his coat pocket, placing the needle cover in his mouth biting down as he pulled the syringe out revealing the needle. “Not yet, little sister.” He pressed the needle into her arm pushing it as the liquid went into her arm causing her to fall into a deeper slumber. Picking her up he took her inside the building, into a small room where he placed her on the bed. He shook his head as he spelled the room so she couldn’t get out. He hoped it would hold, however out of the two Nix was the better witch and a lot stronger than he was. “I’m sorry Nix, I didn’t mean to drag you into this mess.” He said softly before shutting the door. A few hours later a groggy Phoenix slowly began to wake up. Bringing her right hand up to her head she rubbed her forehead slightly trying to clear up the haze and headache. “What the?! Where am I?!” She muttered to herself as she stood up off of the bed, as she looked around the small room she was imprisoned in. Taking a deep breath she could feel the presence of magic around her, and knowing exactly who had cast the spell. She then had a flash back to her brother, Noah grabbing her from behind as he stuck her with something drugging her. Why was she being drugged and spelled into this small room? What did her brother have to do with any of it? Why was he tangled up in vampire business. Just then her mind went straight to Elijah, she didn’t know what this group of vamps wanted with him but she knew she had to figure out how to get to him. Sitting in the middle of the room she closed her eyes and controlled her breathing, whispering a few things to herself as a flash of light swept over the room. She quickly stood up as she slowly opened the door to the room she was being kept in. She stuck her head out of the door into the hallway looking left and right making sure no one was there. She slide her slender body through the small opening in the door into the hall way. She heard screaming knowing it was Elijah’s voice. She quickly followed the sounds of the screams as she scoped out the room. There were at least three vampires and one werewolf in the room. She shook her head as she whispered a few more words to herself, just then all of them men in the room fell to the ground besides Elijah. She slipped into the room as she began to untie him and make sure he’s free. “Oh, my God. Elijah I’m soo sorry I had no idea.” She said softly as she looked into his eyes. Her eyes were calm and sincere as she held him up slightly. “We need to get out of here.” She said softly before heading into the hall looking left and right not sure what way to head. The hours had passed slowly for Elijah. When he woke up he was already contained in one of the small rooms. Hanging from the ceiling by his wrists, the vampire had his shoes removed with a deep gash at the bottom of each foot. Purposefully stationed over a very wide metal sphere to catch every drop. The Original was already starting to feel cold sweats, struggling as much as he could against the ropes the bound him. He had to find a means of escape quickly but with the werewolf venom he wasn't healing the way he should. It was a slow process which the enemy intended to exploit. By the time Phoenix woke up the werewolf and a small group of vampire's had returned. In order to make sure he didn't heal at all the werewolf was placed in charge of him. The vampires took the blood that was dropped off of him so far and then stepped back. The werewolf called Gorvin took him down off the hook, his wrists still bound together in front of him. Elijah lashed out to fight back but his actions were slow due to his weakness. Gorvin slammed his elbow into the prisoner's torso before taking hold of him. He shamelessly sank his teeth into Elijah again, adding more venom to what was already pulsing through the vampire. Bracing his hold on the vampire by gripping him by the hair and around the torso from behind. Then a wave of magic surged over the room and all of the men collapsed. Elijah had stumbled against the side wall of the room and that was when his blurred vision caught sight of a redhead. Hearing a soft voice as she untied his wrists. His heart raced, trying to process what was going on as the power in the room had changed so quickly. "This.... this trap. I am not a fool, Phoenix... H-How do I know this is not an illusion to lead me deeper into enemy hands?" Elijah asked, trying to brace himself more on the wall than her. His shaking fingers reaching up to cover the multiple bite wounds. Even in this weakened state he knew there was no choice but to follow her. Whether he could trust her would be answered later. So... with staggering steps he moved toward the door. "We.... we must take the nearest window. Which is likely at the end of the hall. They have no windows at this side of the house..." he said tiredly.
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12/02/2021 01:12 PM
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Phoenix and Elijah
Phoenix and Elijah Written with: Phoenix Segreti https://www.roleplayer.me/844250
Years In The Past
Love Reunited
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11/27/2021 10:59 PM
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Chaos Realm Christmas Drabble
Elijah Mikaelson Chaos Realm RPG Shoes for Père Nöel | Mentions: Niklaus Mikaelson and Rebekah Mikaelson ... https://www.roleplayer.me/1745585 This was more difficult than Elijah thought. He stood in his bedroom as casually as was possible for him on a full scale day. His suit jacket was left flopped upon the lush king size bed and with his sleeves rolled up he stood there contemplating. His arms crossed over his chest and just his socks upon the carpet under his feet. For the sake of holiday cheer he would have to decide which pair of shoes he would have to sacrifice to the lounge downstairs. They would be set next to his siblings' shoes along the crook of the fireplace. Not close enough to burn, but they would have to be among the gift giving area.
"Why didn't we stop this tradition when we came overseas?" Elijah asked himself. He then shook his head and decided. Bending lightly he took up the polished brown dress shoes in his right hand and in a trained motion his black pair were slipped on. Taking up the suit jacket, he slipped it on and then made his way out of the room.
It was when he came to the lounge that his heart seemed to melt a little bit. As much as he couldn't stand this old French tradition of leaving shoes to ask for offerings on Christmas Night…. Seeing Niklaus' sneakers and Rebekah's night slippers there brought a sense that the family time was appreciated. Still cherished despite all their back and forth banter. Just a few days ago he ended up in a bit of a punching match with Klaus but still there were his shoes. With a smile Elijah stepped forward and placed his own shoes there along with there's.
They beat him to it as usual… Now just to figure out what to get them -- aside from shoe offerings. "Always and Forever"
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11/27/2021 06:57 PM
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Hayley and Elijah 1x1 Starter
Elijah Mikaelson Chaos Realm RP Hayley and Elijah | Mentions: Hayley Marshall; Hope Mikaelson; Niklause Mikaelson ... https://www.roleplayer.me/1745585 There was always something about seeing new life that made a person reevaluate their own. In the case of Elijah Mikaelson, it was the direction he took to his goals. He always aspired to make those he cared about happy. The strange irony being that one figure he wanted to be close to he was fleeing. Making sure his siblings were happy and that the family didn't kill each other was one thing he made a point to do. However Hayley was the object of his affection that he hoped for. He wanted to be there and care for her, but family entanglement got in the way. As always, Elijah bit down on his feelings for his brother's sake -- even laying down his own happiness to do it…
His mind continued to trail back to Celeste in the days that passed Hope's birth. This time not in adoration, missing her or wondering where he went wrong in saving her. He already knew where his blame was for that. Not even in anger for her trying to kill Hayley and the baby. This time it was something she said that stood out.
Always and forever.
The very vow that held together the foundations of his family was also the reason why love always failed. A family member -- usually Klaus -- bearing judgement and ending things before it even had a chance to blossom into something beautiful. The closer a lover came to the fold the more it acted like a raging fire and they were burned. Elijah knew that all too well.
So why does he continue to come out here? To the Bayou, where he hoped just a walk would carry the echo of her laughter on the air. Where he could watch that spark of Hayley's soul continue to grow. Her pack adored her and in truth he did too -- but in a way he felt he couldn't express. All he wanted was for her to be happy, right? And she was getting to know her own fold of family, which brought a smile that he might catch sight of from a distance.
This was childish… but here was the always sharply dressed Elijah Mikaelson clinging to hope the best way he knew how... "Always and Forever"
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11/27/2021 06:54 PM
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The Awakening Starter Post
Elijah Mikaelson The Awakening RP The Resurrection | Mentions: Location: Beacon Hills, CA ... https://www.roleplayer.me/1745585 The shadows of a church shifted as a young woman scrambled to place what she needed in order. She didn't have much time and she knew that this would be her last stand. When Hannah Rodriguez sought out a resurrection spell she knew that other witches were spying. They had turned away from her years ago and strangely she found security in a vampire. She owed Elijah Mikaelson everything as everyone in her own Covent had turned their back on her. Now in Beacon Hills, California the young witch intended to repay that debt and bring him back.
She had so nearly finished the ritual. His form growing in the midnight blue suit she had placed within the circle. That was when the doors of the church began to bang. Her barricade wouldn't last long. All Hannah needed was a few more minutes. She could see his skin take form and become a light gray, turning healthier by the second. His eyelids still closed but he did begin to breathe. That was when the doors suddenly slammed open -- a harsh wind sweeping over the open lobby of the church. Hannah rose to her feet almost instantly, turning to defend what she started.
When Elijah woke up his vision was blurred. He saw the deep oak color of the wood ceiling above him. Blinking harshly he tried to focus his gaze and shifted to turn upon his side. There was screaming that soon came to his ear. He stretched his jaw, which seemed to pop his ears painfully. That was when a figure was thrown into a nearby wall. A woman then quickly ran up to him, carefully picking him up off the floor.
"Elijah, listen to me! The spell isn't complete. You need time to heal but I was able to bring you back," Hannah said, trying to fill in as many details as she could.
The vampire looked toward her and familiarity struck him almost instantly. She was a Spanish woman that he helped through charity work back in New Orleans. She was a witch passing through, but her Covent made it a point to leave without her. Elijah working to preserve antique structures supplied her with a place to stay while Hannah planned what to do with herself. Looking past her, he could see three witches who had been thrown to the sides, scrambling to get back to their feet.
"Look at me, Elijah," Hannah said in a tone between soft and stern. "You're not at full strength. I can stall them, so you need to run. You have to stay healthy or you won't get your memories back!"
"My memories?" he asked after a deep breath.
It was then that another harsh wind rushed past them, with Hannah stepping in the way to block it. The spells clashed between witches and she looked back at him over her right shoulder.
"Go! Go now!" she yelled.
Elijah hated this. It went against every personal code he ever set for himself to leave an ally behind to their fate. However she was right. He was nowhere near strong enough to take on one witch let alone three. He needed to feed before he could even think to do any type of fighting. He finally relented and reached for a nearby pillar. Finding the means to steady himself on his feet, Elijah moved to the side entrance of the lobby. This allowed him to pass through a side hall, past the dining area toward the back door. He could hear the crashes of battle behind him along with screaming and breaking bones. As much as he would have wanted to find someone for a quick feed and then come back it was likely too late now.
The truth was that he just couldn't move fast enough. Elijah's lack of energy made his movements lag, feeling like as if he had come out of a deep freezer without any kind of warm attire. He was stiff as his body was still adjusting to being alive again. Finally, he came to a back alley where a man was warming his hands over an oil can fire. Taking careful steps to sneak up behind him, Elijah reached out. Taking hold of the man by the curve of his head and the middle of one arm, the vampire extended his fangs and sank them into the side of his neck. When he began to scream in pain Elijah swiftly covered his mouth. The last thing he needed was for these witches to come chasing him down. The homeless figure struggled but the sharp dressed man managed to grapple him and hold him still as he fed. Finally releasing, the vampire pulled him toward the side wall where he laid him down carefully.
"A thousand pardons…. I never thought survival was always honorable," he said at a light whisper, tugging out a handkerchief to wipe his chin and lips.
Now… the task at hand was to figure out where exactly he was. "Always and Forever"
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