I found myself with you

Elodie Harrington | Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain; you like your girls insane


Her life used to be simple. Well, as simple as a witch's life could be in the quarter. She had her coven, the shop she and her mother used to run together that sold herbs and other... ingredients to the witches around the quarter. Sure, she was always aware of the tensions between all the supernaturals that called New Orleans home. The witches and Marcel's vampires for example. He had always enjoyed terrorizing them. Trying to always bully them into his bidding and terrozing them for fun. There were the wolves that used to live here according to her coven's elders but... Marcel drove them out too. Of course that didn't stop the occasional wolf from wandering the quarter- though things never turned out well for that poor soul. But Marcel mostly left her and her mother alone. Apparently- he didn't hurt kids. And Elodie had been younger when all this was unfolding. But then things changed again when the Mikaelson's came to town. It seemed in their very footsteps chaos and blood flowed freely. That's when things got infinitely more complicated.

For starters- the power rift that split when Klaus challenged, and beat, Marcel for the ownership of New Orleans. Which in honestly Elodie was positively annoyed with. They didn't have a king. Witch, hybrid, wolf, vampire, nor humans. These streets belonged to all and none of them. Despite all of that, Elodie managed to stay out of it. Other witches fought and died for their ancestors, some for the Mikaelson's; but not Ellie. She refused to pick sides. Mostly because of her distinct lack of interest, but also... Her powers weren't as developed as her other coven members. Try as she had to stay away from the conflicts that stained the cobblestone sidewalks of New Orleans; her coven had not. Even her own coven members had their different allegiances. Coven first... but then individual preferences. It was how her mother died. She had picked the wrong side. Trying to help other witches kill the hybrid's unborn child to protect witches everywhere supposedly. She had paid as dearly as one could pay. That was the day that Elodie swore to try to protect the remaining members of the coven.

It was a promise that felt well... made in vain. Until the coven was visited by a Mikaelson. He wasn't the beastly bastard, or the noble elder. No this one had the noble one's features, dark eyes their pigments comprised of dark and delicate shades of rust and ancient bark and hair to match. But he had the beast's smirk, the impish gleam and the infamous Mikaelson's savagery beneath his smiles. Kol Mikaelson he had introduced himself as. The one that had run with witches over the centuries. He had asked for some sort of alliance. Apparently he was rather nervous of ending up on the wrong side of Klaus' temper. Which he explained meant he feared sooner or later he would be daggered and boxed again. He wanted the alliance of Elodie's coven, master of tracking spells and such so that if he was daggered they could find him, and undagger him. Or better yet study what they could of the dagger and destroy it. Her elders refused. They were done getting in the middle of vampire business. He had begun to leave when Elodie against her elder's wishes had chased after him. Told him to meet her at her shop in two days time. She may be able to help.

And that's where she was currently; pacing nervously. This wasn't her first time dealing with a vampire, but it was her fist time dealing with a Mikaelson; one who scared her only slightly less than Niklaus did. This could go wrong in a thousand ways. What she was asking for wasn't cheap. She'd help him- sure. Find a way treo neutralize all the daggers, keep him undaggered; like his personal witchy bodyguard in exchange she'd demand a few things. Firstly, the infamous grimoire of the late Esther Mikaelson. She wanted to study it, even if it was just a few pages, and secondly and most importantly- she'd link herself to Kol. Unless someone drove a white oak through his heart then she'd be fine. And, there'd be an obligation on the Originals' part to keep an eye on her. Make sure she and her coven was safe. This was the only deal she could think of that would potentially save her coven's life. Outside her shop's windows the night-crowd had begun to come out to play. The sky outside was drenched in a crimson that dripped from cloud to cloud- broke only by pastel pinks and oranges. If nothing else sunsets in Louisiana were beautiful.

Elodie's wraith-like figure leaned behind the counter of her store, casting a weary glance about the things here. Herbs stocked, crystals, a few charms and hexes... Tourists thought it was a cute little thing. The real witches knew that they could get quality items for spells here. The scent of sharp herbs seemed to have seeped into the wooden walls and flooring of this shop, and even her apartment over the shop. Oceanic orbs swept about the place nervous again, though it was the ringing of a bell that jolted Elodie from her thoughts. At once eyes the pigments of wild forget-me-nots layered with darker hues of cobalt and gold found a vaguely familiar face standing in her shop. Kol Mikaelson in the flesh. Her nerves shivered with fear- but she refused to show it. ''Kol, I presume. Lets dive right into things, shall we?'' Weary Ellie kept a careful gaze as his footsteps fell languidly against her floors. He reminded her of a tiger graceful and deadly in a cage. ''I'm willing to help you. For a price. I think it's only fair.'' She pauses, clenching her hands into fists to stop their shaking. She's very well-aware he could likely pluck her heart from her chest.

''I'll do my best from keeping you undaggered, or finding a way to neutralize the daggers if need be. But in return I want to look at some of your mom's spells to help protect myself and coven against your family and all the terrible things you tend to bring with you. Thanks to your friend Marcel, magic has been kind of a no go in my formative years. Studying spells like that would really help me grasp magic a little better.'' He opens his mouth as if to speak again though Elodie cuts him off. ''I'm not done. In addition to that, if we're going to work together, I'll be casting a linking spell. I'll be sticking my neck out for you, and witches have a nasty habit of dying around Mikaelson's. That's my terms take it or leave it; but good luck finding another witch.'' She keeps her voice and gaze steady; though her heart is pounding wildly. ''Though I think if you found someone better to work with- I don't think you'd be standing in my shop.'' Her tone is firm, though soft. It's impossible to read his rather impassive, dark face. ''If you need time, that's fine. But you have a week to decide.'' She falls to silence, brushing a lock of golden hair from her face.

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Klaus Mikaelson | I watch you like a hawk; I watch you like I'm gonna tear you limb from limb


He had expected to come back like the king he was. He expected a most warm welcome from Marcel- a boy he thought of as his own son. Klaus had expected many things, but what he got was more than he bargained for. He came back to an imposter in his throne. The vampire he had brought up as his own child betrayed him. Gotten it in his head somehow that he was the true king of New Orleans. And that was only just the beginning of his problems. Hayley Marshall, the little wolf from Mystic Falls had fallen pregnant with his child. His child. Something that the Original Hybrid thought impossible. Between her, and his fights with Marcel the streets had run red with blood. Peace was not a thing that Klaus nor his family knew. The throne he fought so hard for was drenched in blood. Of his and the other Mikaelson's. Of friends an innocents and wolves and witches... But to have New Orleans back? It was all worth it.

But his time here hadn't been all pain and loss. He had a beautiful, healthy, strong daughter with Hayley. The Wolf Queen had loved and lost and was finding love once again with his brother. At first Klaus hated Elijah for it. Hated Hayley for it. But he was beginning to accept it. He had grown close to repairing his friendship with Marcel a few times. And after calling in a favor to a few witches- Kol was back among the living. Though these days he often disappeared early in the morning and came back late at night doing gods know what. Dalia was slaughtered, another enemy of the Mikaelson's lain low in the ground. There were little victories that Klaus had experienced. But it seemed every time they cleared a problem; a new one arose. He often found himself at ends with Elijah these days. Really his own fault but Klaus would rather cut his tongue out than admit that. It tasted like vinegar, sour and embittered in the back of his throat. He had forged new alliances, kind of, with Vincent, and had even found a lost sister along the way.

New Orleans certainly didn't have a dull moment. Some would say it'd done wonders for Klaus' personality- though he wouldn't believe that. He rather thought that his siblings, namely noble Elijah was projecting hopes onto Klaus. But there were things about New Orleans that did bring... bring something out in Klaus. He thought it to be a sense of nostalgia. After all, these streets were painted in the blood of his enemies and friends all alike. Ghosts were steeped into each cobblestone, each corner held some reminder of his past the good, the bad, and the ugly. There were nights that Klaus often found himself overlooking the streets from his domain, lost in memories. There was always one that haunted him. Alice Winters. One of the many women who had met an early demise because of the Mikaelson family. Klaus had loved her in a way. She was something like a confidant, an adopted Mikaelson and most days? Felt like the one person who truly accepted him. Who understood his many faces and temper and his fears and insecurities. She saw him and Klaus and something... almost human. And Klaus adored her. Doted on her, did his best to spoil her and treat her with favor. He admired her light.

The same light that had drawn him towards Caroline Forbes back in Mystic. But still, he hadn't been able to protect Alice. Instead of fighting for the woman he adored, he fled. It wasn't entirely his fault. She was human, Mikael had already killed her. He was just too slow and Alice had paid that price. If there was ever a time, that even for the briefest of moments Niklaus considered turning his humanity on Alice dying destroyed any chance of that happening. Looking back, he'd give anything to change what had happened. Guilt over her death was still clear in teh occasional portraits he painted of her, so not to forget his failure to her. Tonight was no different. The hybrid had just put Hope down to rest for the night, as Hayley had done so the night before. Klaus told her bedtime stories of kings and queens and princesses- of promises of kingdoms that would all be hers someday as he normally did. Tristan was taken care of, but that left Aurora left running amuck and that did unsettle him. More than Klaus would care to admit. When he exits Hope's room his mind is immediately turning towards the things that threaten this family.

He wants to track Freya down, demand to know how the location spell was going, though the Hybrid was a little nervous that if he bothered her once more tonight she'd hex him. So rather he headed towards the balcony of the abattoir. He could hear his siblings moving about, all of them however sucked into their own worlds. Elijah was talking with Hayley he could hear the rich timbre of his brother's voice, a sound that once brought comfort to Nik, Kol was out again- and Hope's gentle breathes whispered off her walls. In fact he was considering whether he was in the mood for bourbon or whiskey or scotch though, when rather last minute figured he'd rather go out. Stop by Cami's to make sure shew as doing okay. She hadn't really... She wasn't dealing well with her current vampiric state. And Klaus blamed himself for his friend's condition. He felt no need for a coat, New Orlans wasn't that cold this time of year. So with hurried steps Klaus headed towards the exit.

He was nearly there when he caught the sound of light footsteps; and before he could truly comprehend there was a face at the compounds gates. It took him a moment to place it- but when he did he felt his stomach twist. Familiar doe-like brown eyes fell onto his with almost the same level of shock, and full plump lips parted ever so slightly. Her hair was different. Longer than the last time they saw each other but framing her face in a way that made Klaus' mouth dry. The cellphone he'd been holding, dropped to the floor clattering jarringly off the walls of the compound. For a moment the hybrid wasn't able to say anything, his throat thickening while he swallowed his disbelief. Blue eyes were wide as wide could be and Klaus was sure he was paler than a sheet. ''A...Alice?'' He finally managed to choke out in a thick voice as he took a hesitant step forward. Should this be some imposter, some cruel, sick joke- Klaus would find who was responsible and rend them limb from limb.

Kol Mikaelson
Most of Kol's vampiric life had been spent daggered in a coffin. It had been morbid, to say the least, and it was usually because he didn't always agree with Niklaus. In fact, he hardly ever agreed with his older brother, but who could blame him? Kol hadn't wanted this vampiric life; he had always loved magic and that had been taken away from him. So it wasn't surprising that he could be a little temperamental, though that seemed to run in his family. Regardless, only Niklaus seemed to be allowed to get away with being temperamental, while the rest of them paid the price by spending however long it took for Niklaus to forgive them stuck inside a box in a perpetually petrified state due to the daggers he drove through their chests each time they disagreed with him.

All in the name of family, he claimed. Forever and always, but only if you always followed the path that Niklaus set and didn't disobey any ridiculous orders he might have. They weren't allowed to enjoy themselves or love deeply and wholly for fear that Niklaus would think it as a betrayal or disloyalty to him. It would have been expected to just obey Niklaus' orders and avoid angering him, but Kol never had been good with ​doing as he was told, especially when it wasn't what he wanted to do. It was hardly fair ​​that they couldn't have their own fun when Niklaus could do absolutely anything that he pleased. It was even less fair when Kol had spent the majority of his eternal life stuck inside a coffin and not being allowed to do anything. Maybe he wanted a chance to make up for that.

Or maybe he just wanted a chance to be free of his brother's reign or just to be allowed to enjoy himself without having to make sure that Niklaus ​approved of everything that he wanted to do. He wouldn't have to worry about getting daggered. That is, if he could get the help he needed to assure that, if he got daggered, it wouldn't put him in a petrified state and that he wouldn't be stuck in a coffin for another five centuries. But, the only way to get that help was to seek it. And the only people he could think to seek it from was the witches. The problem was that they weren't as fond of him now as they had been back then. Another issue his dear brother Niklaus had caused due to his anger and tantrums. Wonderful.

​But, then, one of the witches had told him to meet her somewhere - a place he was only vaguely aware of from when he had been allowed to be a witch. He wasn't very familiar with it, but he was familiar enough that he could at least be prepared if this ended up being a trap of some sort, some form of leverage against his siblings. The witches were likely vengeful considering all the bloodshed that had come due to his siblings taking over New Orleans, so it wouldn't really surprise him if they decided to use him against them. And the promise of an alliance was a perfect way to pull that off, even if they had put up a front that they were against the young witches idea to have him meet her.

But, he needed an alliance. He needed to know if there was a way to avoid the dagger working on him, to negate its effects. And, if there wasn't a way, he needed to know that somebody would come searching for him if he were to disappear after being daggered. His siblings certainly wouldn't try to undagger him, not when it could end with them getting daggered themselves for going against Niklaus' wishes. ​And, really, he couldn't necessarily blame them if he was in their shoes, but it still bothered him. He felt like the black sheep of the family, even though that title was supposed to be meant for Niklaus, the hybrid.

​When he got to the shop, it looked safe enough. He entered, his eyes scanning over the area for a few moments before his gaze settled on the witch. He wasn't even surprised that she was offering a proposition. That was how most people were, it seemed. They'd help you, but only if you did something in return to repay their favor. You had to owe them. It was troublesome, but he figured he didn't have a choice. "Alright," he said simply after a moment or so. His mother's grimoire was mostly for sentimental reasons now than anything else. He couldn't use magic now and likely never would be able to again - and if it would help him avoid falling to his brother's wrath, that was fine. "I don't need time to think about it. If this is my only chance at avoiding being stuck in a box for another couple centuries, then okay. I'll let you study my mother's spells, and I'll let you perform a linking spell so long as you don't plan to use it against me." Because he didn't entirely trust the witches of this age; it was much easier to trust them his first time in New Orleans.​

---

Alice Winters
Many time since she had been turned, Alice wondered how she had ended up in this life. What choices had she made to force her life to take a turn from being human to becoming a vampire? A monster? Most of the time, her first instinct was to blame it on meeting and getting close to Klaus Mikaelson. But she couldn't bring herself to blame her misfortune on Klaus. She had loved him and she wouldn't have ever changed that. But he had fled New Orleans while she hadn't even been around. She'd come home to find Marcel, who ranted on and on about the Mikaelsons' betrayal. That was inevitably when her luck had taken a turn for the worse, because Marcel had compelled her to allow him to turn her - something she had never wanted.

Looking back, she knew she should have been on vervain, but she hadn't expected a friend to compel her. Moreover, she had remained off the vervain in case Klaus ever needed to compel her to forget him or move on with her life, because she was aware that they couldn't be together forever. She had been a human, after all, with a limited lifetime, whereas he would be allowed an eternity. Trusting Marcel, in the end, and staying off vervain despite being surrounded by vampires had been her mistake. And it had been a dumb mistake, one that had cost her everything she loved and held dear. Back then, she had to compel her family to think she died but to pass over the grief phase - and then she had them move away so that they wouldn't run into her.

In reality, it was the only reason she had remained in New Orleans with Marcel - because she didn't want to risk ever running into her family if she were to travel. And, in a way, it was because Marcel was her only link to her human life. Klaus was gone. The Mikaelsons as a whole were gone. Her family was gone. All she had was Marcel. At least that meant she wasn't alone in her eternity of misery. Still, she did greatly resent him for forcing her to turn when she hadn't wanted a life stained with bloodlust and death. She didn't even know why he had done this in the first place. Perhaps it was so that he himself wouldn't be alone after those he considered family had abandoned him. Perhaps he wanted somebody to share in the understanding of being abandoned by the Mikaelsons. Perhaps it was just to lash out at Klaus.

Regardless, out of nowhere, Marcel had sent her off. It had been odd, considering how he had never asked her to leave before. But, he had told her to leave, that he would explain later. It had been over a year since then, she was sure, and while she had waited for an explanation in New York, she still had not heard from Marcel in New Orleans. It was uncharacteristic of Marcel and it caused her to worry. Although she resented the man, he was still somewhat a friend, and he was the only thing that helped her maintain her humanity when she was struck with fears and thoughts of losing it. That was why she made her way back to New Orleans and had even tried to call Marcel several times with no answer.

She felt on edge when she arrived at the compound. Things were different. She'd smelled werewolves around, which didn't make sense. Wolves weren't allowed in the Quarter. And, when she arrived at the compound, more scents were overwhelming her, ones she couldn't place. There wasn't any lingering scent of Marcel and she didn't see any of the vampires ​that she had known. It almost felt like the entire compound was foreign, void of any proof of her own existence, much less those that she had known. It made her feel even more on edge than she had already felt.​

And that feeling didn't abate at all when she saw Klaus Mikaelson. Her eyes widened and her mouth fell agape, though she took a step back. Part of her couldn't believe that he was there. The other part wasn't sure what to feel. Should she be happy to see him again? Should she be angry that he disappeared all those years ago without a single word to her? But, then, she realized something. Was this why Marcel had sent her away and avoided contact with her? "Where's Marcel?" she asked, worried that something had happened. "What happened? What's going on?" She had way too many questions. And, since she was already asking them, she frowned and took a step forward, eyes narrowing at him. "Why the hell did you leave? Why'd you leave us, Klaus?"

Elodie Harrington | Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain; you like your girls insane


"I don't need time to think about it. If this is my only chance at avoiding being stuck in a box for another couple centuries, then okay. I'll let you study my mother's spells, and I'll let you perform a linking spell so long as you don't plan to use it against me." Trying to hide the smile growing on her lips, Elodie bites at her lip gently. She wants to be professional; but for the first time it feels like she may of found the edge she and her coven needed to survive the brutal turf wars of New Orleans. ''I'd just like to come out of this with my head, if that's alright with you.'' Elodie replies somewhat dryly. She doesn't have time for any sort of nonsense. She wants to just get this over with. The Ancestors wouldn't be too happy she was helping a Mikaelson- but given it was the one who'd been sympathetic to witches before, and that she was doing this to try to protect her coven, they'd understand. ''I'll do the spell now- come into the back. It's where I practice.'' The blonde instructed him in a rather professional tone. That's what this was.

Business. A mutually beneficial relationship; and hopefully keeping it that way would keep her life as simplistic as possible. And while she trusts this Original about as far as she could throw him, Elodie sees no other choice. Head still turning through thoughts, few pleasant, the girl leads the way through a thin curtain which gave way to the backroom. It was a pretty simple setup. A small table with various ingredients, bowls, and jars filled with various tools to help her practice. Nothing fancy. As soon as she ducked behind the curtain, the aromatic herbs drifted towards her. It was a small comfort, loosening a bit of tension in her shoulders. She could hear the vampire's steps behind her, though her outward composure of resolve didn't falter. Rather than pay the dark-haired male much attention, she went about taking out what she'd need. Thankfully, it was a pretty simple spell, one of the few she had mastered. ''This shouldn't take very long.'' She speaks as she rustles through her cabinets, finding what she was looking for. A blank piece of paper, her mother's blade, and black chalk.

''So, you can get the grimoire right? Even if it's only for a couple hours a day while you hang around, that's enough for me." The blonde witch glances up as she draws out the spell, the chalk turning the pads of her fingertips a sooty black. She'd heard plenty- it was hard not to hear about the Mikaelson's living in the Quarter. They were known to bribe witches with it before; but Elodie wasn't so interested in the offensive spells; just the defensive ones. But Kol didn't need to know that. As he speaks, she finishes setting up, and setting the chalk down she sighs in a near inaudible tone; her sharp cerulean gaze flicking over her work. It would suffice. ''Hand please.'' This was the... less fun part of the spell. But, a small cut and a few drops of blood later. They would be linked. She leans on the table, her gaze resting on Kol. Even in the dim lighting of her practicing room; she can tell he's handsome. She's not blind. He's got the darker looks of the older one; but something wild in his gaze reminds her Klaus. And that unsettles her. But looks are deceiving.

There's a discernible grimace on Kol's face, as if he's hesitating. The young witch can't help the small, bemused grin. Though she elects not to tease him about it, as he's handing over his hand. ''Fesmatos, tribum, ementas asten, nas ex veras, mihan ega petous, varos!" The chant falls from her lips in a melodic way as she quickly and rather fluidly draws the blade over the fleshy part of his palm. It's almost disturbing how easily the blade slices through his skin, as if it were made of little more than paper. Kol's blood splatters over the paper, and Elodie turns the blade on her own hand as she continues chanting. She only falters, with a grimace when the blade first slices through her delicate skin. She watches as drops of her own blood fall onto the paper, seeping into Kol's blood drops and mixing. She can feel the familiar thrum of magic flowing through her body, a pounding of blood and a rush in her ears. It's an indescribable exhilaration; one she'll never tire of. With one final repeating of the spell she feels it working.

The petite witch feels herself becoming tethered to Kol. And for better or worse? Elodie's life rests in Kol's hands. A sudden rush of exhaustion and Elodie drops the dagger to the table with a clatter. Her gaze flickers to her palm, where the cut, thanks to Kol's healing abilities, has already healed. ''It's done.'' It feels redundant to announce this, but something urges her to do so anyway. Her heartbeat is rapid, though that's normal for a linking spell. All magic took it's toll after all. She's also aware that it's taken a bit of a toll on Kol as well. It feels natural as she offers her arm out to him. Almost like... an olive branch. A peace offering between the two of sorts. ''You can drink if you want. Better me then some innocent tourist.'' Elodie knows this is business, and the key to a good business? A good partnership. It was her who offered the alliance. And while she'd been raised to fear and mistrust vampires, she needs to make an effort to at least get along with the cocky original. ''I really don't mind.'' She tacks this on as a second thought, her voice sounding a bit softer than before.

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Klaus Mikaelson | I watch you like a hawk; I watch you like I'm gonna tear you limb from limb


He's in shock, and disbelief mostly. But it doesn't take long for that disbelief to turn into denial. Alice Winters was dead. Those were the last words Marcel had said to him when they were fleeing New Orleans all those years ago. Even then... Marcel wouldn't of lied about that, would he? He had known what Alice meant to him. What humanity of his she seemed to salvage with her presence. Klaus feels his jaws clench, confusion and paranoia swirling on his mind. This had to be some sort of trick. His gaze sweeps wildly over her, looking for some sort of fallacy. Was he hallucinating? Truly and rather literally seeing ghosts of his past? He refuses to let his hopes up. It would kill him if this turned out to be some cruel joke. From a few feet away Alice's own jaw was slack, agape just a tiny bit. Her lips, as plump and expressive as he remember pushed into a small ''O'' shape that made his heart quicken.

Her hair was longer, done differently than the last time they'd lain eyes on each other; but then again Klaus guessed he looked different too. "Where's Marcel?" Those simple words are enough to drive a blade through his stomach, and quicken his veins with anger. Marcel? Marcel? So he had hidden Alice away from him, perhaps the cruelest thing his prodigy had done in all his years. He had found the woman who was most akin to Klaus' heart, and ripped it away. As he had with his sister, when they called Mikael. The hybrid can feel his teeth sharpen, his eyes glow their dangerous and predatory golden hues before he forces himself to breath though his shoulders remain tight with tension. ''Marcel, has been banished. Exiled across the river.'' It's shock that has him answering, shock of seeing her, shock of her reaction towards him. She runs off from him, turns and he's the one she's cool towards? "What happened? What's going on?" Klaus draws a sharp breath in his hands curling to fists.

Perhaps he shouldn't of been expecting a, how are you; or the words he yearned to hear most- ''I missed you''. Rather he feels something of a sneer creeping onto his expression. ''Marcel, has been banished. Family business.'' He doesn't feel like reliving one of the worst nights of his life, or the betrayal he'd been faced with from Marcel and Rebekah. But perhaps the most stinging blow comes from Alice next. A frown, that doesn't suit her delicate appearing face settles onto her lips. Klaus nearly backs away when she takes a step towards him. "Why the hell did you leave? Why'd you leave us, Klaus?" It's like a slap to the face. Leave? Hadn't Marcel told her, or had he kept her in the dark? But even if he had, what hurt the most is that Alice would believe those fallacies of him. Surely, if nothing else, she had to know that Klaus wouldn't ever of just abandoned her. If needed, if he had known, he would of brought her with him. "Leave? You think I wanted to leave?" His tone is incredulous, rising a bit in volume.

''When my family fled New Orleans- Thanks to your dear friend Marcel, it caused me more pain than I've had to endure in centuries!" Again that agitation threatens to overtake his mind. Turning from Alice he paces a few steps away from her, forcing himself to breath. When he turns back around, exhaling he feels a bit more in control of himself. ''What do you know? What lies have been told to you?" It would be easier to explain if he knew where to start. What Marcel had been feeding her over the years. Of course, it hurts knowing that she'd believe them; but that was another discussion. Klaus is torn. He wants to shout and throw things. He wants to seek down Marcel and inflict all the pain he feels from this latest treachery. He wants to take Alice into his arms. Feel her, make sure this was real. He wants to explain that he wouldn't of left her, and that he hadn't ever meant to hurt her. But rather he holds himself still, waiting rather keenly for her explanation.

There was slight amusement that showed on Kol's expression when she mentioned that she wanted to get out of the situation with her head. He ducked his head slightly, hoping to hide the amusement so that he might avoid her getting angry or upset with him. Whether she noticed the amusement or not, he wasn't sure but he followed her nonetheless. Her professional tone struck him as odd, but, then, he supposed it was expected. Witches didn't particularly like the Original family, after all, and if this seemed like anything other than business to any outsider to their conversation - witch or his family alike - it would certainly cause trouble. It wasn't as though he expected for any sort of blooming friendship to grow between them, either; this alliance of sorts was a means to an end, his only hope of avoiding being daggered now that he was back in his original vampire body.

"Straight to business, then," he mentioned idly while he watched her gather what she needed. They were items he was pretty familiar with, considering his interest in magic both before he had ever been turned into a vampire, his short time of getting to be a witch again, and even his interest while he had been a vampire in New Orleans the first time. Moreover, the items were simple, but it wasn't always the items that matters; more often than not, it was the spell and power that mattered. The items mattered as well for spells like this, but items weren't always a necessity for magic. Seeing the items, despite their simplicity, Kol could feel a sense of longing form in him, because he already missed using magic, the loss of it taking a toll on him.

But, when she asked him if he could get the grimoire, his attention was brought back to her and he eyed her for a moment. "Do you not trust me?" he asked, though he looked momentarily amused once again. Lifting his shoulders in a small shrug, he nodded once. "I suppose it's understandable. My family isn't known to keep to its word too often, aside from Elijah." It seemed to be something that ran in the family, but it was usually for one main reason: survival. There was a strength in doing what you had to, to survive, no matter who you had to cross or hurt. But, Kol didn't really want to be like that anymore. He wanted to prove himself worthy, he wanted his family to believe in him. But, he did still want to survive, and that was why he was making this agreement right now. "I swear to you that I can get the grimoire and bring it to you," he assured her. "That is, if you decide to trust me in this matter."

When she requested his hand, he didn't hesitate to hold it out to her, watching as she chanted and cut his palm. It hurt, but only momentarily. He healed too quickly for it to cause him more than that small amount of discomfort. The rest of the steps seemed to go as expected: she cut her own hand, their blood mixed, constant chanting, and the familiar wave of magical power surging around them. He was tired, the magic haven't certainly taken its toll on him. And the smell of the blood on the paper made his gums itch, because the hunger that came with how tired he felt pushed him to craving for the itch to disappear. To see her hold out her arm, though, caught him by surprise. "Are you sure?" he asked, his eyes slightly wide in a way that reflected just how much her offer shocked him. Was it really the best idea?

But, then, she was assuring him that she was really okay with it, almost before he could have even questioned her seriousness. His eyes scanned over her features for a few moments and it was only when he saw that she didn't seem to have any second thoughts about it that he took a hold of her arm. His hold wasn't tight or forceful, but it was firm so that, if his fangs hurt her and she tried to jerk back, she wouldn't hurt herself more in the end. Then, his lips wrapped around her wrist and his fangs sank into her skin. For a moment, he could have sworn that he could taste the power of the lingering magic, but his mind was soon concentrated on the taste of her blood while he reminded himself not to take too much.

---

For a few moments, Alice tried to convince herself that she's gone mad, that the man standing before her couldn't possibly be the man that abandoned her all those years ago. She wanted to believe it, because it seemed less painful. There was an ache in her chest, though, and she wasn't sure if it was because of the betrayal she felt then or if it was because of the expression Klaus wore now, as if she was the one who hurt him back then. There were many more things that she wanted to ask, so much more that she wanted to learn, and, for a moment, she wasn't sure if she'd even get the chance, because she saw his eyes flash dangerously and it frightened her. She'd never been on the receiving end of Klaus' anger or his feelings of betrayal and she certainly didn't want to be on the receiving end of it now.

She wanted to believe that that was why it didn't affect her much when he said that Marcel was banished. She knew it wasn't true, though. The reason Marcel's banishment didn't bother her was because she wasn't particularly close to him; he was just the only thing she had left in the forsaken city and she hadn't wanted to be alone when she realized that he wasn't there. She didn't want him dead, but she wasn't entirely fond of the idea of seeing Marcel at the moment, either, when she had realized the real reason he sent her away was because Klaus was back. But, why had he sent her away? Did he think that she would break down at the sight of Klaus? Had he actually been worried? Or was there a more selfish reason behind it?

When Klaus raised his voice, she cringed slightly but kept her gaze settled on him while she listened to him speak. "You think Marcel is my friend?" she asked, though she let out a pathetic laugh that sounded more pained than anything else. "Would a friend compel a friend to let them turn them into a vampire, despite knowing that it is entirely against the other's wishes? Marcel is not a friend. He was just all I had in this town to keep me from losing my mind or my humanity or whatever else I could possibly lose in this town that I haven't already lost." A part of her wanted to cry and she could feel her eyes sting, because this life hadn't been what she had wanted and the one person who knew that best had abandoned her, only to be found standing in front of her now. "And you weren't here to stop it, Klaus. You didn't even return to see the remains of the fallen home you loved so much."

But, then, she recalled his words and her brows furrowed slightly with confusion. "What do you mean thanks to Marcel?" And, she tried to concentrate on his own question because she knew it likely needed an answer. She tried to recall all that Marcel had told her back then, the words that had torn her apart even as a human. "Marcel said that you betrayed and abandoned us, that we were left to fend for ourselves. He said that you left him pinned on a stage while the theater burned to the ground, that you fled without saving him or without thinking twice about it. He said that we were alone." And, from there, Marcel had begun to take the city of New Orleans by storm and it had been like that ever since. It didn't seem to be the case anymore, considering there were werewolves roaming around.

"If you didn't want to leave, then why did you? Why did you flee and leave us to fend for ourselves?" There was a crack in her voice that she didn't want to admit to being present, but she settled a stare onto him, one that reflected the pain she felt from the many times she'd asked herself the very question she was about to ask him: "Why did you leave me? You say you didn't want to leave, but you didn't have to - or, at the very least, you didn't have to stay away, but you did."