|elijah mikaelson (ignobility) wrote in wariscoming,|
@ 2015-02-20 03:00:00
|Entry tags:||elijah mikaelson, niklaus mikaelson|
Who: Elijah and Klaus.
What: A brotherly reunion, complete with a bar full of dead bodies.
Where: A small out of the way bar.
When: After this.
Warnings: Blood. Lots of dead NPCs.
Status: In progress.
He could not really say how it had happened. Honestly, it didn't even register until he was done and the bodies were scattered around the small, out of the way bar. No, that wasn't quite right. He knew, in retrospect, how it had happened. It was just that, for a brief moment, he had lost all control of himself. He supposed that wasn't really the same thing.
He had been waiting for Niklaus, sipping slowly at a glass of the best vodka one could find in a dive bar in Kansas, not very good to say the least but servicable in any case, and wondering what exactly was going on. His mind was still caught on his captivity at his mother's hands, on the torment she had inflicted on him and the memories she had unlocked in his mind. If they were truly memories. Perhaps this was nothing more than another of her twisted games. But it felt like the truth, however much he wanted it to be a lie. He had killed Tatia. He had killed his first love. And he had allowed his mother to hide the truth of that act from him for more than a millennium.
He was focused on his drink when a young woman who was walking past him stumbled. He moved to catch her, but her rather colorful drink spilled as he did so, onto the front of his shirt. He stared down at the spreading stain, heedless of her apologies, and in his mind he could see the red door. The door that his the worst parts of himself. He clenched and unclenched his hands against his sides, having let her go, but the door was still there and he felt a creeping darkness. And then he grabbed hold of her, eyes darkening and fangs appearing as he ripped at her throat.
It was like that with the rest of them, until the floor was littered with the bodies of the customers and the staff, all bloody and broken and left where they fell. He looked no better with blood on his skin and his shirt. At least it covered the stain from the drink, but this shirt was most certainly a loss. Looking at the carnage he had wrought, Elijah made his way back over to his seat and returned to his drink. This was troublesome to say the least, but Niklaus would be there soon. and this was no worse than anything he himself had done. Together they would make sense of this. If there was anything he knew, it was that he could always rely on his brother when he needed him.