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◤ 𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖜𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖞-𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙: ❛ vengeful spirits ❜ ◢
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SOPHIE, AS IT TURNED OUT, WAS A GREAT DRINKING PARTNER. She knew how to hold her weight, only stumbled a little, and had lots of access to alcohol at the bar. The witch wasn't keen on prying information out of her either, which was wonderful because Marisol had no interest in divulging her every secret.
Still, Marisol knew that a drunk witch was a valuable one. Information was how people ran the world, after all, the secrets that make people bend to your will and the knowledge of how to get everyone on their knees. And Marisol had many questions. It wasn't every day she saw an Original desiccated by a spell – only powerful mages could do that, and it intrigued her.
As she looked at Sophie, some part of her was brought back in time, to when the world was smaller and her main concern wasn't fighting in a supernatural war but being the perfect wife for her betrothed. Sophie had spirit, working with the Mikaelsons and going against her people, like Marisol once had.
Maybe not by choice, either of them, but my circumstances. She remembered that power in her veins as she struck the merchant with her knife, the connection broken from nature and the new unnatural power intoxicating her veins. It was unlike anything she had ever experienced before and she wanted it back – so dearly and tenderly, close to her heart and away from everyone else.
"If I were a powerful witch trying to resurrect other witches scorned by the Mikaelsons, who might I chose?" Marisol turned to Sophie, eyes like a predator on her.
Sophie scoffed. "If you want to know their enemies, you should ask them. Not me."
"I could, but Klaus is much more interested in killing Papa Tunde right now instead of looking at the bigger picture. He can't be the only one they've murdered here, and if he's brought back, who knows who else is walking around the streets?" Marisol questioned before leaning closer to her, "But you – you have the perspective of the witches. Surely they must talk. Witches always do."
"What do you know about witches?" Sophie shot back at her, fiery eyes. Marisol smirked at her, that spirit – that same spirit was the reason she lost her magic. She didn't want to submit to the culture, and the vision was awfully powerful, taking her to the meadow, slaughtering a stranger and giving her that weight of power. For a moment, she was drunk, and then that disappeared as well, leaving her with claws and fangs on a full moon.
"Oh, so much. I was one, once upon a time, and I've kept up with them over the years. Witches are as fascinating as they are annoying, but so incredibly useful. Now, any names come to mind?"
Sophie hesitated. Eyes flickering between Marisol and the bottle in front of her. "Celeste Dubois."
Marisol immediately began to straighten in surprise. Elijah's lover scorned? Well, that was as surprising as it was unsurprising. Klaus did kill her, at least from Elijah's account.
