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» This blood runs bad, @elijah mikaelson
Posted: Jan 30 2018, 04:09 PM
REBEKAH is Offline
Posted: Feb 7 2018, 01:50 PM
Elijah is Offline
where'd you wanna go?
HOW MUCH YOU WANNA RISK?
Darkness. It was hard for Elijah to estimate just how long he had been under the darkness, trapped in his own mind and thoughts and body by his own brother's hand. Was he fully aware in his current state? It was unknown; time seemed to slip past him even when he was lucid and coherent, so being staked, in a coffin...What was one blip in his lifetime of immortality?
It was a blink of the eye, maybe. Or a heartbeat. The flap of a butterfly's wing. For one who lived forever, who had but one weakness, it was nothing in the grand scheme of things. But for Elijah Mikaelson, who considers himself patriarch of his troubled siblings, who was often the voice of reason and only advocate for control...It was everything. It meant that the potential for his siblings (one or two in particular) to go feral was higher than normal. That they were left unattended.
And he was no keeper, no jailer, not by any means. But if he let Niklaus run free, it could be devastating for the community at large. If Niklaus' thirst and desire to feel was not satiated, he would burn the world to the ground. Was Elijah the only one who could prevent that? Maybe, maybe not, but he felt responsible enough to try. And that is likely why his little brother decided to stake him through the chest and hide him away in a coffin.
It was hard to describe what it felt like to be under. Coherent? No. Lucid? No. Imagine, if you will, someone's hands around your neck, keeping you from breathing, from seeing, from yelling for help. Imagine the darkness that follows, and the state in-between. That was where Elijah had lived for months. No chance to sleep, feed, dream.
But plenty of time for anger.
He didn't notice the voices nearby, or even when the lid of the coffin raised. He didn't hear his sister's voice, or feel the relief of the stake from his chest or the rush of fresh air. But he did, eventually, taste the first drop of blood that released from the girl's wrist. He could feel blood - her blood - start flowing through his veins to his heart, to his now-aching chest, and he could feel his head begin to clear.
He gripped her wrist to take more of her, knowing that he would not be judged in losing control, in taking every drop from her innocent body. But he couldn't. She could not die for what his brother had done to him. He gathered enough energy to push her off of him, and swiftly found himself standing up on the opposite side of the room, blood dripping down his chin.
He looked around, almost frantically, before realizing his sister had been the one to save him. He would not put it past his brother to unstake him only to do it all over again for entertainment. He relaxed when he saw Rebekah, trying-and failing-to straighten the suit jacket that now needed to be replaced.
He stepped forward to her in a few steps and placed a hand to her cheek. He kissed her forehead, forgetting the mess he had just made of his face. "Thank you, Rebekah. What have I missed?" She would know what he meant. Which of their siblings had gone crazy? What of the Salvatores? What had happened in his absence?
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