[there's a panic when she's sees Nik's name on the list, as she's all too aware of the sacrifices he made for them back home. for him to be in this strange place as well -- she isn't sure what it means but he's the first person she calls.
[ he's known it's possible. freya, cami, and everyone here has made it clear that people come and go. people from other universes, other walks of life, other times. people from home. he knows he's been here before, that his sister has. that elijah has, and kol.
even knowing that, seeing rebekah's name calling his phone is enough to have his heart in his throat. his little sister, his partner, someone who had been his world once upon a time: it chokes him with relief and terror and anger.
he swallows it all down and answers. ]
Rebekah. [ he wants to ask how she is, if she's okay, if she knows - ] Where are you?
[ two days since elena's departure. one day since damon had left his mark across the mansion.
three grimoires with zero solutions for one witch who's desperately perusing bajillions of books in the library. in her heart, she most certainly knows that this top row that she had to climb a ladder on wheels (who puts ladders on wheels???) to get to will provide nothing.
yep see look what even is this? it's the actual dumbest-- oh-- ]
Shit!
[ rolling ladders!!!! bonnie drops the book in favor of catching herself to hang from the top of the shelf, and is suddenly thankful that she'd cowed and stayed in cheerleading as long as she had. ]
A little help? Hey! Excuse me, can you grab that ladder?
[ yeah, random blond guy that seems totally helpful and not at all ancient and murderous! a little help, buddy? ]
if put to the test would you step back from the line of fire?
ooc: you can totally ignore this if you want to omg it's been a month and a half
[of all the witches, in all the libraries, in all of wonderland is the basic summation of klaus' thoughts, watching bonnie bennett reach with all her considerable might to find quite the darling self-help manual (yes, he can see the title from here) only to fall quite literally into an unfortunate predicament.
the ladder rolls his way; his lifts a hand to stop it, even though its progress has already slowed. ] This one? [ is that a familiar voice you hear bonnie ] Well, I suppose it'd be my pleasure. [ he moves it back towards her, close enough to be caught by her dangling legs. ]
[He opens the video feed, but hesitates there. There's something that's pulled him towards Klaus as soon as he started to feel vulnerable, but now that he's faced with actually approaching someone for aid, he can't help but feel silly about it. It'll be open long enough to get an image of him and the labspace behind him, but he'll shut it down a moment after.
It's not worth troubling Klaus. There's too much else pressing at him.]
and he is very concerned by fitz's short and hardly comforting missive: an image of his friend clearly troubled. thoughts of obstacles at the lab and with their research immediately take hold; with freya's disappearance the instinctual paranoia clenches his insides double-fold. (he needs his plans to carry through, especially now that he has intimate proof wonderland will not discriminate with its whims.)
it's barely a few seconds after fitz's message that klaus downs his scotch, gets up from his seat, and opens up a connection in response.
he's in his living area; his rooms are all wood and southern gothic comfort, the paintings and ornaments representing the many splotches of color. it's no surprise his concern is genuine. ] What's wrong?
[it's the smaller celebrations that rebekah loves most as well. don't get her wrong, she loves a good party, but holidays are family events and nothing about that has changed for her. which is why underneath the tree of their little celebration Klaus will find a gift for himself wrapped up in green and gold wrapping paper.
It's a small box containing a necklace she had purchased from one of the merchants (one who took money, not memories, no worries there). It was a wooden pendant carved down in the shape of a wolf. She may not be the artist he is but she likes to think she has a good eye for these things.
There's a note along with it.
To my favorite big bad wolf, and my annoying big brother.
[throughout the week klaus will find little messages on his bathroom mirror written in very familiar handwriting.
the first one:]
do you really think you can change?
[the second message:]
you're as selfish as you've always been.
[the third:]
you destroy everything you touch. you ruined your first child, you'll ruin the second, just like you ruined me and everything else. you can't love anything without destroying it.
[the fourth:]
to be loved by you is a burden, they would be better off without you. your siblings, your children, you precious blondes Camille and Caroline, everyone
[and finally, at the end of the week]
i wonder how your daughter would feel to know you're content to stay here and be happy without her.
[ he cannot pretend that the messages his dear and perverse sister leave do not strike him. if she's watching (and he's no doubt she is, with that vicious and terrible streak of cruelty only one born of rebekah can unleash) she will see how each love note makes its mark.
it only worsens by the end, each word needling under his skin despite all his better sense and defenses; each sentiment impressing upon him truths and his sibilant whispers that so often plague and haunt him and hound his steps.
for centuries, for now, for always.
(and that they are from rebekah, who knows his weaknesses, his faults, his heart—from any version of rebekah—
it is nothing less than intimate.)
there's a crack on the mirror, in the shape of a fist, stained with his blood, by the third. by the last, no amount of calculation and pacing stops him from picking up a pen. ]
I wonder how content you will be when I have your head on a pike.
Perhaps as content as you are now, all alone in a sad, fabricated world.
[ and with that, he rips the mirror off the wall and lets it shatter. ]
[Cami leaves the coffeeshop, glancing behind her to make sure Fitz hasn't suddenly decided to follow before she pulls out her phone from her purse. She's trying rather hard not to be angry, but it isn't the easiest thing.
Not when she's walking away from the first victim of compulsion she's found in Wonderland since Klaus' return.]
We need to talk, Klaus. [She marches upstairs, not towards the second floor where their bedrooms are, but rather her office. This isn't a conversation for some place where they've cuddled or kissed.]
[ he's not been particularly pleased by the arrangement of laying low and hoping for the best this month, but klaus knows the benefits of giving a wrathful creature his space: after all, it's a tactic often reserved for him.
mostly he's used such instances to plot and scheme and plan, so truly the only benefit of this has been his own increased worry and paranoia, but he digresses.
(despite it all, it is the only route that makes sense: take the time to regain strength and pool resources.)
therefore it's no surprise cami's short message is met with concern that pulls him to his feet. despite any reassurances to the contrary, lucifer is still a wildcard. ] What's happened?
[ this is hardly a message klaus is eager to see. of course he knows it was only a matter of time that camille would want to learn the truth or learn it despite her desire to avoid it. he didn't consider she would hear it so haphazardly from his sister, no doubt on the wings of her own crippling guilt and remorse. the concern rises up and shakes him: for camille, her foreseen future even more broken now and the grief that is assuredly wracking her; the anger follows and nearly bubbles over: for freya, to tell her. and yet it wars with something stronger: the worry and grief and pain he knows his sister feels. the worry and grief and pain he does. that familial bond strengthened by blood and anguish and love. what and who he would always choose.
his fingers are tight around his phone. his chest aches and it is for them all. (for camille. for he and freya, standing alone with these sins.) ]
[Peter can't trust that Fitz won't tell Klaus everything else he'd mentioned to Fitz that day, and he needs to be certain that he isn't responsible for even remotely shaking up the alliance that Elena and Bonnie have worked so carefully to craft between their people and his. It was an overemotional accident. He's not used to- He's not used to living in these worlds where secrets are so important all the time.
His chest still feels carved out after his conversation with Fitz. Peter's always been a loner. He's starting to remember why.]
[ to be honest, klaus would much rather ignore this message. for one, he has little to no interest to involve himself any further in the affairs of the mystic falls crew, particularly considering what his last foray might have wrought. (and he did entrust the lad to elena's care.) for another, he has no desire to complicate fitz's relationship, particularly when peter's involvement already has put them on thin ice.
nor does he particularly want to have his own relationship, but that's tangential.
but. he would like to decide for himself what sort of man this peter parker is. it is in his best interest to know all the players. klaus opens the connection. ] So I've heard, [ he replies. ] Though he's told me little about you.
( he is sad. peasants are incapable of understanding the true depth of a tortured artist's mind, but iskra is no peasant. she is a magical cat belonging to the last petrova doppelganger; of course she's a snowflake. the last time she brought someone a dead mouse as a gift it was received poorly, people are unappreciative is what they are, and so she learned to change gears quickly. her gift for klaus is to be less impossible and distracting as he broods, though she doesn't waste the opportunity to keep him company. she saunters into the library with a charcoal pencil in between her teeth, and proceeds to drop it on his lap.
[ he's been spending more afternoons here, sprawled in armchairs, reading books of strategy and story, searching for occupation when he cannot find it at the tip of his paintbrush or the distraction of others. iskra is always a sudden and expected partner in these public spaces; it's not the first time she's weaved through book shelves or tea rooms to hop up on his knee or rub along his ankles.
klaus looks up from his book (the hunchback of notre-dame, original french) as iskra jumps into his lap and drops the charcoal pencil. with an impressed and touched raise of his brow and a smile, he reaches to scratch her head. ] Is this your way of pulling me out of my head and into something productive?
[ yes klaus talks to iskra like she can respond shh ]
she'll remind herself after the fact that she should from now on, for various reasons. one in particular.
she doesn't knock, simply steps inside caroline's room with a familiarity that comes after years of growing up together. it doesn't take long to realize that a.) caroline isn't in the room, and b.) she is not alone in spite of this. it's almost instinct, the way elena's back straightens and her lips part. it would be dishonest to say freya's mirror hadn't brought back brutal memories involving the mikaelson family. it would be dishonest to say that deep down, elena does not still fear him.
it's another tether, petrova and mikaelson, except this time around, they were both unwilling prey to a much larger force. isn't that in itself terrifying? once upon a time, elena believed there was no greater force than the one behind his fangs and his intent. wonderland tends to change things. )
I was looking for— ( well. it's obvious who she was looking for. )
[ it would be a lie to say he didn't hear the telltale signs of someone coming, though if this was their destination, he had expected them to knock.
klaus is lounging as if he belongs for all the world where he is: settled on caroline's settee, surrounded by and ensconced in her presence, from her copy of little men in his lap (it was a gift) to the teal pillow nestled against his side.
his face falls. perhaps it was only a matter of time, encountering elena gilbert and particularly in the backdrop of her best friend's abode, but he was not expecting it now. his lips part as her recalls the memory of her drained and pale against the sheets of freya's bed, a corpse that has not quite left their rooms.
(he thinks of the deep maroon beneath the carpet. he thinks of how he left it there.)
just as quickly as his expression slacks, he recovers. ] She's here, [ he replies, glancing back to his book as if he has not a care in the world.
maybe he adds this next bit to be purposefully provocative: ] Showering.
She hasn't properly heard from him in awhile, and when they finally cross paths, it's only in passing, and he doesn't even notice that she's there.
It's easy to miss things when you're as intoxicated as he must have been. It's a state she rarely sees him in, if ever, and she has to wonder why? Things have been complicated, to say the least, ever since Asgard. She hasn't quite known what to say, and despite their rekindled 'friendship,' their obvious flirtations and her sheer panic in the midst of her bloodlust left her frazzled and more unsure than ever.
The one thing she knows for sure is that when he's not around, she misses him.
She doesn't necessarily think his perceived mental state has to do with her, her ego isn't nearly big enough for that, but she knows the kinds of things he does when he's feeling, and she wouldn't be Caroline Forbes if she didn't decide to do something kind of impulsive about it.
She waits until it's late before she shows up at his door, knocking loudly. If he's drunk himself into a coma, he's going to need someone to take care of him. Even if he hasn't, he was there for her when she was a mess. Time to repay the favor.]
Klaus? It's me.
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull;
he lets it in, quietly sitting in the dark of his rooms with the cool touch of the necklace rebekah gave him in his palm. he lets that grief and pain and lack flood in, for there was no avoiding its endless tide regardless. his sister is gone. he will mourn her absence, he will miss her, and despite every instinct in him believing he will not be able to go on without her by his side, he will wake up one day, and it will be easier.
he knows this is true. he knows this is true, ashamed and unburdened in stoicism from that shame, knowing just a mere hour ago he had attempted to lance this wound differently. he closes his eyes as he thinks of the rage and malice and cruelty that filled him, this desperation and longing he would have wielded like a knife.
he is tired and he is worn but not beaten, and when he hears her footsteps outside his door, when he hears her voice, he is torn in a limbo between hope and uncertainty — the two war, for in this quiet, sorrowful moment, he knows that they have been since the moment she returned. since the moment they were here, on opposite sides of his door, and she needed to leave.
he pulls in a breath and rises, driven by the simple longing of wanting to see her, forever unable to deny that wanting, to deny her, and opens the door.
he does not look well, but he is calm. the drink he imbibed still lingers, but he has not touched the bottle since he returned. his clothes are still damp from the lake, clinging and sticking to his skin. rebekah's necklace still hangs from his grasp, the small wolf dangling from his closed fist. )
[ Claire doesn't want to make a big fuss, but she does need to be sure the person who saved her life is aware of her gratitude. ]
Mr. Mikaelson, this is Claire Fraser. I wanted to extend my thanks now that the event is over. You saved my life. I'm not only thanking you for myself but my husband as well. And I apologize if I...said anything off-color about your method of saving me.
truth be told, he's been content to put the entire encounter from his mind. wonderland has seen to it that there's plenty to turn his focus, but he also hasn't quite been able to forget. (there was one trauma he was able to prevent, even if only for now.) for this reason, her repeated appreciation means something. it meant something, to her.
he pulls in a breath, braces himself, and seeks words. )
You were dying. I did only what I knew I could. ( that sounds unnecessarily detached even to him, but he can't seem to countenance anything approaching an expression of 'you're welcome.' perhaps because that savior is not who he is.
still. his voice softens some. ) I suppose I should thank you. For not running for the hills. ( she could've. many have. and worse. )
[ So Klaus made Alice cry over a very public network transmission. It's vexing for Fitz. Klaus has made so much progress, but then sometimes he reacts like this. He opens up more direct communication, sighing deeply. ]
She's just a little girl, Klaus. You're better than this.
he almost doesn't even dignify this with an answer )
She's a centuries-old relic of the place holding us prisoner, who either does know or could impart leagues more than she lets on. And quite frankly, I could do with a little less judgement and a little more common sense from you. ( he may or may not be scathingly referring to how you caused a scene at his girlfriend's party since we're bringing proper conduct up js )
( clementine noticed when klaus was absent (and it scared her. in the same breath she hoped he got to return to his daughter. she also didn't want to lose that relationship in her life. it's not fair- it's not fair because he does have a daughter, and he seems like he'd be a very good father to her, and she deserves to have that). she checked into his room to find out his stuff was still there, but- but that's not always a guarantee she's learned. a week passed she figured out he came back, but she also knows adults well enough to understand. they need time to themselves. they only let out certain emotions alone or among others of their own age.
it can be hard being around kids, especially when one's separated from their own kid. so she gives him time to recover, to get back into the groove of everything.
it's not until a week later that she sends a message. )
( he hasn't forgotten her, but she would be right to consider he needed space. he hasn't forgotten her, but amidst the five years past and the loss of his brother, he has wanted to keep so many things at arm's length. shame prickles over him at the sound of her voice, because he did. he did, but it's not her responsibility to suffer his silence —
she has. it's not fair. it's not fair because he does have a daughter at home, he has many things at home, and clementine does not have a father. (at the moment, he hardly feels strong or worthy enough to be anyone's father.)
his exhale is quiet, shaky. after a beat, he says, ) I'm all right.
( he hesitates, a suffocating feeling weighing down his voice: it's worry, guilt, love. ) I trust you haven't been up to too much trouble in my absence?
[ He'll find two boxes: one holds a nice set of artist markers. In the second box is a a mug with a note: I know it's silly, but I hope looking at it will help you remember what you really are. - Chloe ]
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entranceway inbox
the best part of waking up is feelings in your cup
Her voice is almost breathless when he picks up]
Nik?
best wake up *_*
even knowing that, seeing rebekah's name calling his phone is enough to have his heart in his throat. his little sister, his partner, someone who had been his world once upon a time: it chokes him with relief and terror and anger.
he swallows it all down and answers. ]
Rebekah. [ he wants to ask how she is, if she's okay, if she knows - ] Where are you?
*_*
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if put to the test would you step back from the line of fire?
three grimoires with zero solutions for one witch who's desperately perusing bajillions of books in the library. in her heart, she most certainly knows that this top row that she had to climb a ladder on wheels (who puts ladders on wheels???) to get to will provide nothing.
yep see look what even is this? it's the actual dumbest-- oh-- ]
Shit!
[ rolling ladders!!!! bonnie drops the book in favor of catching herself to hang from the top of the shelf, and is suddenly thankful that she'd cowed and stayed in cheerleading as long as she had. ]
A little help? Hey! Excuse me, can you grab that ladder?
[ yeah, random blond guy that seems totally helpful and not at all ancient and murderous! a little help, buddy? ]
if put to the test would you step back from the line of fire?
[ of all the witches, in all the libraries, in all of wonderland is the basic summation of klaus' thoughts, watching bonnie bennett reach with all her considerable might to find quite the darling self-help manual (yes, he can see the title from here) only to fall quite literally into an unfortunate predicament.
the ladder rolls his way; his lifts a hand to stop it, even though its progress has already slowed. ] This one? [ is that a familiar voice you hear bonnie ] Well, I suppose it'd be my pleasure. [ he moves it back towards her, close enough to be caught by her dangling legs. ]
if put to the test would you step back from the line of fire?
if put to the test would you step back from the line of fire?
if put to the test would you step back from the line of fire?
video (sort of)
It's not worth troubling Klaus. There's too much else pressing at him.]
video
and he is very concerned by fitz's short and hardly comforting missive: an image of his friend clearly troubled. thoughts of obstacles at the lab and with their research immediately take hold; with freya's disappearance the instinctual paranoia clenches his insides double-fold. (he needs his plans to carry through, especially now that he has intimate proof wonderland will not discriminate with its whims.)
it's barely a few seconds after fitz's message that klaus downs his scotch, gets up from his seat, and opens up a connection in response.
he's in his living area; his rooms are all wood and southern gothic comfort, the paintings and ornaments representing the many splotches of color. it's no surprise his concern is genuine. ] What's wrong?
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backdated to 12/25
It's two books, Little Men and Jo's Boys, tied together with a thick ribbon into a poofy bow, accompanied by a short note.]
I owe you a thank you for finding these for me. I enjoyed them.
Merry Christmas.
Let's hope it's a good one without any fears
It's a small box containing a necklace she had purchased from one of the merchants (one who took money, not memories, no worries there). It was a wooden pendant carved down in the shape of a wolf. She may not be the artist he is but she likes to think she has a good eye for these things.
There's a note along with it.
To my favorite big bad wolf, and my annoying big brother.
Always and forever,
Rebekah.]
I Came Around To Tear You Little World Apart
the first one:]
do you really think you can change?
[the second message:]
you're as selfish as you've always been.
[the third:]
you destroy everything you touch. you ruined your first child, you'll ruin the second, just like you ruined me and everything else. you can't love anything without destroying it.
[the fourth:]
to be loved by you is a burden, they would be better off without you. your siblings, your children, you precious blondes Camille and Caroline, everyone
[and finally, at the end of the week]
i wonder how your daughter would feel to know you're content to stay here and be happy without her.
I Came Around To Tear You Little World Apart
it only worsens by the end, each word needling under his skin despite all his better sense and defenses; each sentiment impressing upon him truths and his sibilant whispers that so often plague and haunt him and hound his steps.
for centuries, for now, for always.
(and that they are from rebekah, who knows his weaknesses, his faults, his heart—from any version of rebekah—
it is nothing less than intimate.)
there's a crack on the mirror, in the shape of a fist, stained with his blood, by the third. by the last, no amount of calculation and pacing stops him from picking up a pen. ]
I wonder how content you will be when I have your head on a pike.
Perhaps as content as you are now, all alone in a sad, fabricated world.
[ and with that, he rips the mirror off the wall and lets it shatter. ]
after the disaster
Not when she's walking away from the first victim of compulsion she's found in Wonderland since Klaus' return.]
We need to talk, Klaus. [She marches upstairs, not towards the second floor where their bedrooms are, but rather her office. This isn't a conversation for some place where they've cuddled or kissed.]
Now.
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mostly he's used such instances to plot and scheme and plan, so truly the only benefit of this has been his own increased worry and paranoia, but he digresses.
(despite it all, it is the only route that makes sense: take the time to regain strength and pool resources.)
therefore it's no surprise cami's short message is met with concern that pulls him to his feet. despite any reassurances to the contrary, lucifer is still a wildcard. ] What's happened?
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post-talking to cami }
I told Camille about Davina. She wanted to know about the future and I told her.
Thought you should be aware.
[She is sorry in advance.]
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his fingers are tight around his phone. his chest aches and it is for them all. (for camille. for he and freya, standing alone with these sins.) ]
Tell me where she is.
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how'd this get lost in the scuffle ;o;
;;;; it's okay, we found it again
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[audio]
His chest still feels carved out after his conversation with Fitz. Peter's always been a loner. He's starting to remember why.]
My name's Peter. Peter Parker.
I know Fitz told you about me.
[audio]
nor does he particularly want to have his own relationship, but that's tangential.
but. he would like to decide for himself what sort of man this peter parker is. it is in his best interest to know all the players. klaus opens the connection. ] So I've heard, [ he replies. ] Though he's told me little about you.
[audio]
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can they touch you and come away still clean?
yes. she'd stolen it. )
can they touch you and come away still clean?
klaus looks up from his book (the hunchback of notre-dame, original french) as iskra jumps into his lap and drops the charcoal pencil. with an impressed and touched raise of his brow and a smile, he reaches to scratch her head. ] Is this your way of pulling me out of my head and into something productive?
[ yes klaus talks to iskra like she can respond shh ]
can they touch you and come away still clean?
can they touch you and come away still clean?
can they touch you and come away still clean?
can they touch you and come away still clean?
can they touch you and come away still clean?
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a good icon
a good thread
the best
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action.
she'll remind herself after the fact that she should from now on, for various reasons. one in particular.
she doesn't knock, simply steps inside caroline's room with a familiarity that comes after years of growing up together. it doesn't take long to realize that a.) caroline isn't in the room, and b.) she is not alone in spite of this. it's almost instinct, the way elena's back straightens and her lips part. it would be dishonest to say freya's mirror hadn't brought back brutal memories involving the mikaelson family. it would be dishonest to say that deep down, elena does not still fear him.
it's another tether, petrova and mikaelson, except this time around, they were both unwilling prey to a much larger force. isn't that in itself terrifying? once upon a time, elena believed there was no greater force than the one behind his fangs and his intent. wonderland tends to change things. )
I was looking for— ( well. it's obvious who she was looking for. )
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klaus is lounging as if he belongs for all the world where he is: settled on caroline's settee, surrounded by and ensconced in her presence, from her copy of little men in his lap (it was a gift) to the teal pillow nestled against his side.
his face falls. perhaps it was only a matter of time, encountering elena gilbert and particularly in the backdrop of her best friend's abode, but he was not expecting it now. his lips part as her recalls the memory of her drained and pale against the sheets of freya's bed, a corpse that has not quite left their rooms.
(he thinks of the deep maroon beneath the carpet. he thinks of how he left it there.)
just as quickly as his expression slacks, he recovers. ] She's here, [ he replies, glancing back to his book as if he has not a care in the world.
maybe he adds this next bit to be purposefully provocative: ] Showering.
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bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull;
She hasn't properly heard from him in awhile, and when they finally cross paths, it's only in passing, and he doesn't even notice that she's there.
It's easy to miss things when you're as intoxicated as he must have been. It's a state she rarely sees him in, if ever, and she has to wonder why? Things have been complicated, to say the least, ever since Asgard. She hasn't quite known what to say, and despite their rekindled 'friendship,' their obvious flirtations and her sheer panic in the midst of her bloodlust left her frazzled and more unsure than ever.
The one thing she knows for sure is that when he's not around, she misses him.
She doesn't necessarily think his perceived mental state has to do with her, her ego isn't nearly big enough for that, but she knows the kinds of things he does when he's feeling, and she wouldn't be Caroline Forbes if she didn't decide to do something kind of impulsive about it.
She waits until it's late before she shows up at his door, knocking loudly. If he's drunk himself into a coma, he's going to need someone to take care of him. Even if he hasn't, he was there for her when she was a mess. Time to repay the favor.]
Klaus? It's me.
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull;
he lets it in, quietly sitting in the dark of his rooms with the cool touch of the necklace rebekah gave him in his palm. he lets that grief and pain and lack flood in, for there was no avoiding its endless tide regardless. his sister is gone. he will mourn her absence, he will miss her, and despite every instinct in him believing he will not be able to go on without her by his side, he will wake up one day, and it will be easier.
he knows this is true. he knows this is true, ashamed and unburdened in stoicism from that shame, knowing just a mere hour ago he had attempted to lance this wound differently. he closes his eyes as he thinks of the rage and malice and cruelty that filled him, this desperation and longing he would have wielded like a knife.
he is tired and he is worn but not beaten, and when he hears her footsteps outside his door, when he hears her voice, he is torn in a limbo between hope and uncertainty — the two war, for in this quiet, sorrowful moment, he knows that they have been since the moment she returned. since the moment they were here, on opposite sides of his door, and she needed to leave.
he pulls in a breath and rises, driven by the simple longing of wanting to see her, forever unable to deny that wanting, to deny her, and opens the door.
he does not look well, but he is calm. the drink he imbibed still lingers, but he has not touched the bottle since he returned. his clothes are still damp from the lake, clinging and sticking to his skin. rebekah's necklace still hangs from his grasp, the small wolf dangling from his closed fist. )
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull;
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull;
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull;
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull;
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull;
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull;
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull;
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull;
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull;
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull;
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull;
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull;
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull;
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull;
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; THIS IS PROBABLY ABOUT TO GET NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW INCOMING
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW INCOMING
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
bleary eyed and beautiful but your blade is not dull; NSFW
audio.
Mr. Mikaelson, this is Claire Fraser. I wanted to extend my thanks now that the event is over. You saved my life. I'm not only thanking you for myself but my husband as well. And I apologize if I...said anything off-color about your method of saving me.
audio.
truth be told, he's been content to put the entire encounter from his mind. wonderland has seen to it that there's plenty to turn his focus, but he also hasn't quite been able to forget. (there was one trauma he was able to prevent, even if only for now.) for this reason, her repeated appreciation means something. it meant something, to her.
he pulls in a breath, braces himself, and seeks words. )
You were dying. I did only what I knew I could. ( that sounds unnecessarily detached even to him, but he can't seem to countenance anything approaching an expression of 'you're welcome.' perhaps because that savior is not who he is.
still. his voice softens some. ) I suppose I should thank you. For not running for the hills. ( she could've. many have. and worse. )
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She's just a little girl, Klaus. You're better than this.
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#this
he almost doesn't even dignify this with an answer )
She's a centuries-old relic of the place holding us prisoner, who either does know or could impart leagues more than she lets on. And quite frankly, I could do with a little less judgement and a little more common sense from you. ( he may or may not be scathingly referring to how you caused a scene at his girlfriend's party since we're bringing proper conduct up js )
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audio. backdated to the 10th. ish.
( clementine noticed when klaus was absent (and it scared her. in the same breath she hoped he got to return to his daughter. she also didn't want to lose that relationship in her life. it's not fair- it's not fair because he does have a daughter, and he seems like he'd be a very good father to her, and she deserves to have that). she checked into his room to find out his stuff was still there, but- but that's not always a guarantee she's learned. a week passed she figured out he came back, but she also knows adults well enough to understand. they need time to themselves. they only let out certain emotions alone or among others of their own age.
it can be hard being around kids, especially when one's separated from their own kid. so she gives him time to recover, to get back into the groove of everything.
it's not until a week later that she sends a message. )
Hey.
You're back. Are you... okay?
audio
( he hasn't forgotten her, but she would be right to consider he needed space. he hasn't forgotten her, but amidst the five years past and the loss of his brother, he has wanted to keep so many things at arm's length. shame prickles over him at the sound of her voice, because he did. he did, but it's not her responsibility to suffer his silence —
she has. it's not fair. it's not fair because he does have a daughter at home, he has many things at home, and clementine does not have a father. (at the moment, he hardly feels strong or worthy enough to be anyone's father.)
his exhale is quiet, shaky. after a beat, he says, ) I'm all right.
( he hesitates, a suffocating feeling weighing down his voice: it's worry, guilt, love. ) I trust you haven't been up to too much trouble in my absence?
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christmas, 2017