𝕯𝖊𝖋𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖊 - [𝗘𝗹𝗶𝗷𝗮𝗵 𝗠𝗶𝗸𝗮𝗲𝗹𝘀𝗼𝗻] (DISCONTINUED)

𝐢𝐯. the magical, miracle baby

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 - the magical, miracle baby

━━━━━━━

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 started just as the previous day had ended, with Ophelia lounging on Davina's plush bed as the harvest girl argued with Marcel over Elijah's fate. The siphon was sprawled out, her pastel-blue maxi dress flared around her, her heels abandoned on the floor with her jacket, and her head was propped up on the mountain of pillows Davina had procured over the months.

Davina had spent the better part of thirty minutes knelt in front of the sleek coffin, before her dainty and freshly painted fingers wrapped around the dagger and pulled it out of the original's chest, that is, before she shoved it back in. That was when Marcel had sauntered in with the usual swagger in his step. He had exchanged a look with Ophelia who shook her head. She had no idea why Davina was using Elijah as her pin-cushion, and she didn't really want to find out why.

Ophelia sighed and rolled her eyes as she threw her legs over the side of the bed; Marcel and Davina would argue constantly and this time it seemed as if Davina was entirely determined to figure out how to kill an original before she even thought about giving Elijah back. It didn't quite help Ophelia with her promise.

"Davina, we've been through this." Marcel reiterated as he dragged a hand down his face, tired of the constant back and forth with the young witch in his care. "Klaus saved my life, I owe him one. Since he wants his brother back-"

"-Tonight's the annual Dauphine Street Music Festival. I wanna go. Please?" The harvest girl interrupted, her gaze flickering from the vampire to the siphon, her eyes lingering on the brunette woman who rose a brow, knowing that with her input, she was sure to be allowed out.

"The whole point of you being up here is so you're never spotted out there. You know who works smack in the middle of Dauphine Street? Sophie Deveraux. Pain-in-the-ass witch, and you know what the witches will do to you if they find you."

"But you control the witches. Make her go away." Davina stomped, anger brewing in her tone, and Ophelia could only clear her throat of the laugh that threatened to escape; she had influenced the young witch far too much. Upon seeing the vampire shake his head, Davina's voice grew louder "Marcel, it's one night!"

"I said 'No'," Marcel told the young witch firmly. The finality in his tone made Davina's eyes drop sadly, she had wanted to attend the festival in the hopes of seeing her little crush, Tim.

The sadness faded from the harvest girl, only to be replaced with defiance as she looked up fiercely; "I do anything you say, but sometimes I think you forget what I'm capable of. Did you know I can make someone's blood boil? All I have to do is focus."