"Trust me, I've no interest in touching you. I have a distinct type."
Very distinct, excruciatingly unavailable, and currently quite safe from this entirely disappointing encounter. Elijah could say he was grateful he knew his type well enough to know all that. There was little of interest in this dying mortal. He could sense a hint of old magic around him. It made him want to curl his lip up in disgust.
Witches were almost as bad as anything his family had ever doled out. They were constantly into trouble. It was unconscionable to think this one was turning down his help yet he wanted to offer again all the same. Why? Why offer anything at all? It was more than likely the world would be worth far more with this creature gone than with him sustained.
Elijah allowed his thoughts to meander back to his mother, his father, his brother who was doubtlessly up to no good at home.
"I'm more than accustomed to being the source of someone else's amusement. Being The Noble Brother has its downsides. Many of them. Most of them," Elijah clarified.
How much to divulge? How much to keep to himself? How much to allow him to know considering his current state?
As long as the information could not harm Hope or Hayley, Elijah saw no reason not to share it.
"As for what I am? It's a bit complicated and a bit simple all at once. My mother was one of the first witches. She damned our family. We are The Originals of our kind. Some call us vampires. I can't die. Literally cannot. It's a particularly nasty way to exist. I don't recommend it. I do recommend you consider taking a drop of my blood for your own. I offer it freely which is---quite a bit considering its value. My blood can heal anything save cancer. Even death. Your choice of course. I'm fine with leaving you as I found you. You'd hardly make a decent meal. I prefer my food healthy."
Female was also a preference for Elijah. He didn't particularly enjoy feeding from the throats of male victims. Klaus was the one who liked to take out strong victims. The stronger the better in his case, but Elijah had never felt the same in regards to his blood donors.
He actually preferred to think of them as donors rather than victims. It was more civilized.
He was more civilized.
Elijah pierced the pad of his thumb with a sharp incisor. His blood had a completely different scent to it in comparison to human blood. There was no metallic sharpness, only sweetness, seductive myrrh, a precious gift only offered to a few. Ever.
A bead of blood welled up and held his hand out in offering.
"A single drop. It's all I offer. The choice is yours."
Elijah wouldn't offer again. He was never the type to offer a barter more than it was beneficial to him.
This? Would gain him nothing. It couldn't cost him anything either. For some reason, he thought his sister Bex would be proud.