entranceway inbox

[poppycock]

text. audio. video. mirror.
action if wanted/needed.




<font face="courier new"></font>

Comments

best wake up *_*

[poppycock]

[ 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?

*_*

[easily]

[Rebekah doesn't know any of that, not yet. She is still new here and still trying to figure things out. This is the first call she made. How could it be anyone else?

He is her brother. She has loved and hated him her entire life, as long as it's been, but at the moment all she feels is love. She does know. She knows what he did for her, for all of them. It means everything.

How could it not?]

In a garden of some sort, near a fountain.

[She seems to be okay for now, she does not feel the creeping madness of the curse that had been placed on her, not yet anyway.]

[poppycock]

[ close. she is close. near enough to see, to have, to -

rebekah is here. klaus is choked by it for a moment; it's not lost on him she is where he was when he arrived. only but a few steps behind. ] Stay there.

[ it's his only response before he hangs up. he does not waste time; he does not dally. there is nothing more important than this: seeing his sister. it takes him no time at all to stop at the mansion's entrance to scan the grounds to spot her. even less to be before her. it's bittersweet awe and joy that washes over him seeing her face, panicked and uncertain of her surroundings. it's gripping, seizing worry that takes him next. ]

[easily]

[as if she would go anywhere.

her heart seizes in her chest as she waits for her brother, unable to truly believe he is here until she sees it with her own eyes. she does not forget for a moment what he had done for them back home. when he arrives in front of her she surges forward, as if of no volition of her own.

her arms wrap tightly around him, as if she is frightened he will disappear if she lets go. despite all of their differences and issues through the years he is her brother and she loves him.

selfishly, she's glad he's here. that she does not have to endure this alone.]

It's good to see you, brother. I didn't think I would be able to so soon.

[poppycock]

[ he suffers the same selfishness as she: a terrible gratitude and gut-clenching relief as she steps forward to embrace him without hesitation and with nothing but the welcome and need of home. whatever love and hatred has existed between them over the centuries, this has been rare. he knows even as he lifts his arms to return the embrace when she must be from; he knows it before she speaks. (he knows it, her outfit notwithstanding~)

but it is still a cold dousing; he moves away, reaches for her wrist to see it unmarred, smooth and pale. he stares at it cradled in his palm as if in doing so the mark might appear, much to his terror.

it doesn't, and he lifts his wide, full gaze to her.

they are both all right. ]

[easily]

[though she has loved and hated him in equal measure for centuries for a long time the hate seemed to outweigh the love. currently, however, that has shifted and perhaps nothing is more telling of that than how she embraces him, how she allows his presence to offer her comfort in a way that is has not in a very long time.

soon enough he's pulling away to check her arm, something she has barely done herself so far. the mark seems to not be there -- whatever magic freya pulled to put them in that stasis seems to have extended here. she is safe from the curse.]

I'm alright, Nik.

[thanks to you goes unsaid, she is unable to quite find the words for how she is feeling in this moment.]

[poppycock]

[ she is all right, as is he: bereft of torture and their sacrifice, suffering no ill effects of the blade. he knows it is possible; he knows it is possible to arrive here in wonderland no worse for wear, better than. he runs his thumb absentmindedly over her wrist. the warmth in her words touches him and he shifts slightly under it, uncertain how to weather the grief of it all.

what he does not truly believe is that they are all right, that they are safe. there is danger in whatever reality they inhabit. ] I suppose you have questions.

[easily]

[in all honesty, rebekah does not truly believe it either. they have lost too much to be all right and yet it seems like the words to say all the same. they are both here and for the moment untouched by the curses that should be plaguing them still.

it is not much, but it's something.]

I have a few. Where is this place, exactly? I found the device that helped me find your name and Freya's as well, but I know little else.

[poppycock]

[ it is something. it is a comfort and a problem both: that rebekah is here to share their grief, their terror, and what haunts and hounds them to its fullest. she knows like no one else knows: she knows the truth of their future, the full horror of it. she knows it in visceral and total ways that freya and camille do not.

in ways perhaps they need not. should not.

he keeps her wrist in his hand, sucks in a soft breath hearing what she does know: who she knows is here, and who she doesn't. (camille.) he will tell her; he will. but they are words better left for later. (for him, not for her.) it's best to start from the top before he touches on timelines.

now give him like a short second to brace himself for the ensuing ridiculousness of what he's about to say. his jaw tightens and his smile is tight; clearly this is a point of never-ending frustration for him. ] We're in Wonderland, it seems. [ yes, that wonderland ] A separate dimension... from ours. [ that smile fades towards the end because he is 100% serious ]

[easily]

[the future brings nothing but pain and despair for their family, misery that perhaps they've earned in some ways but it does not make it any easier to bare. the solidarity of knowing klaus has suffered through it is comforting to be sure but if she could rob him of that knowledge, she would.

it's why she does not fight his grip, the way his fingers stay wrapped around her wrist, keeping her tethered to him.

(always and forever, the curse and gift of the mikaelsons)

her expression turns slightly judgy at the mention of where they are]

You don't mean like the Wonderland in Charles Dodson's silly books, do you?

[Originals: the only people pretentious enough to use Lewis Carrol's real name.]

How is this possible?