alive {Klaus Mikaelson}

four // smile, the worst is yet to come

~ ~ Smile - Milky Ekko ~ ~

"New Orleans? What the bloody hell is Klaus doing there?" Rebekah asks, Elijah pacing her very living room.

"Evidently, there are witches conspiring against him. So knowing our brother, this was a mission to silence and slaughter." He answers, taking a seat on one of her sofas.

"Well, the French Quarter witches are not a lot to be trifled with. You don't suppose they've found a way to kill him once and for all, do you?" Rebekah can't help her wide grin.

"Rebekah, in the name of our family, you might try to dial down your glee."

"What family?" Elijah squints his eyes, not understanding where this is coming from. "We are three distrustful acquaintances who happen to share a bloodline. I for one hope they've found a way to make that traitorous bastard rot."

He chooses to ignore her, knowing she doesn't mean it even if she thinks she does. Family is complicated like that.

He steps past her, her body following his actions. "Where are you going?" she questions.

"To find out who's making the move against our brother." He replies, only for his feet to stop as he thinks. "And then I'll either stop them or I'll help them." He mutters, shaking his head. "Depending on my mood."

- - - - New Orleans - - - -

Welcome to the dark side of New Orleans. A supernatural playground where the living are easily lost and the dead stick around to play.

Klaus is greeted by the city, a smile plastered to his face. He loved New Orleans, always has and always will. It was only fitting that the people out to kill him would live in his most beloved city.

His eyes travel over all the tables in the street, filled with apparent witches and their junk they claim to be useful to others. His smile widens, finally finding a real witch surrounded by those who claim the name.

As he begins his journey towards her, she quickly spots him. The middle aged, black woman began to pack up her things.

"Good afternoon." He grins, acting friendly despite his possible intentions. "Time for one more?" He asks.

"I have nothing to say to you." She spits, knowing exactly who he is.

"Oh, now, that's not very amiable, is it? You don't even know me." He plays along.

"I know what you are. Half vampire, half beast. You're the hybrid." He was surprised, most would appear scared or intimidated but not her. She came off strong. Which only made him dislike her instantly.

"I'm the original hybrid, actually, but that's a story for another time." He ignored her snide facade. "I'm looking for someone. A witch, perhaps you might be able to help me find her. Jane-Anne Deveraux."

She becomes stiff, her back straightening. "Sorry, I don't know."

He instantly knows she's lying. He almost laughs at her clear inability.

He leans forward across the table. "Well, now, that's a fib, isn't it?" Her face finally displayed fear, which he very much enjoys as he takes her hand in between his. "Now, you see I know that you're a true witch amongst this sea of posers so enough with the fabrications. I've quite a temper."

She snatches her hand away. "Witches don't talk out of school in the Quarter. The vampire won't allow it. Those are the rules. I don't break Marcel's rules."

Klaus' face softens at the name. His mind flooding with memories of the particular person. He can't help wondering how he was still here after all this time.