At first, when she and the rest of the spirits began to notice a disturbance in the veil between the living and the dead, there had been a great deal of panic and confusion. Tatia had gone from being entirely unable to see anyone on her side, to suddenly being surrounded by hundreds of spirits. They could speak and interact with one another--though no one seemed to have any idea what was actually taking place in the spiritual realm. Then more shifts began to take place. It was the autumn season in the land of living, and they could suddenly feel the breeze and the chill in the air. A feeling which, though immeasurably exciting to Tatia, concerned her deeply.
And then the final shattering of the separation took place, and the veil was dismantled entirely. The living panicked upon seeing the sudden presence of so many among them, dressed in every manner of attire from every era since the creation of the supernatural purgatory. But Tatia, rather than immediately seeking an explanation, could hardly believe that she had actually been brought back to life. That somehow...she had been offered some sort of second chance. An overwhelming rush of excitement and joy filled her heart and she tested the sensations of her sense, thriving on the feelings she was now offered after having been so long deprived. She'd longed for the things she had been able to see, but never fully experience. 1,000 years. After 1,000 years of lifeless observation, she had returned.
She had re-entered the world somewhere along the coast of Florida, having just made her way back to the United States from a journey to the Caribbean. Death had offered her the opportunity to be widely traveled, to experience almost every culture on earth. But, she had missed home, and had aimed to return to the small settlement she had once resided in, to witness how it had grown over the decades since she'd last visited.
However, before returning there, Tatia determined that she first wished to re-unite with the only people who would remember her after all of this time---the Mikaelson family. To not waste a moment to share the wonder and amazement of her revival with them. She hesitated only briefly, recalling that they were vampires, but discarded the thought as soon as it had come. She had made her peace with the circumstances of her death a long time ago. She had seen many vampires since then, in all forms, and knew that they were not so very different from their mortal counterparts---there were profound traces of goodness and light. Besides, word had spread of the Mikaelson exploits, particularly those of the hybrid, Niklaus. Tatia did not approve of all she had heard of him, but she was proud that he seemed to have strengthened, to have risen above the abuse he had always been made to endure under his father. And Tatia believed there was still good in him too; in them all.
And so she began to make her way to New Orleans, where she heard of the underground, immortal empire Niklaus was ruling over. Her journey went fairly smoothly until she reached the border of Louisiana, where strange happenings became apparent. The news was suddenly and urgently warning everyone on a worldwide scale that an outbreak was spreading at a rapid rate--fatal and with the effect of reviving the dead in a feral state.
Tatia connected this occurence with what had taken place in the spirit realm. Somehow, the two phenoma were linked. It didn't take very long at all for the plague to reach her area, and she saw with her own eyes the horrific effects with which it took its victims. The dead were rising and attacking their own, hunting down the living and increasing their numbers.
Society crumbled swiftly, and Tatia watched in great sadness as the world was torn apart by the dead. Such a beautiful place to be brought to such ruin. She had taken to several survival methods, many of which she had simply observed over the years. She made her way to New Orleans slowly and cautiously, knowing that, with the Mikaelson's, she'd be safer than anywhere else in the world.
When Tatia entered the city, she knew she wasn't in the best of shape. Slightly malnourished, a little roughed up, and with over a dozen risen dead either outran or fought off. She'd found a rifle at a pawn shop along the way and it'd become her weapon of choice.
But, for the moment, it all seemed unexpectedly quiet. A small smile crossed her face as she paused and observed the beauty of the river and the city beside it. It was a broken city, but its beauty remained. There was light there, in the French Quarter, both physically and in the aura it emitted. It was her beacon of hope. She smiled and continued towards it, feeling the lovely wisps of the wind as her boots softly traversed the cobblestone path. It seemed, for the time being, the risen dead had been cleared out by the vampires.
Tatia couldn't entirely explain it but, despite the threat of ravenous vampires--as the human population had greatly diminished--she trusted in her instincts entirely. It wasn't something she could explain, but she was certain she would be safe.
There were broken portraits from previous street artists lining the streets, and Tatia stopped to observe one of the pieces. Even in the darkening evening, she could see how lively a scene it depicted--of New Orleans in all its previous glory. The sentimental beauty pierced her chest, and she lifted a hand to trace her fingers along the brushstrokes.
Post by Niklaus Mikaelson on Jan 14, 2016 21:24:22 GMT
If I told you what I was
Would you turn your back on me?
✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥ ✥
Drawing in a weighted inhale of the late night air, Klaus released it with a small sigh. His pace was slow, unhurried, as he wandered through the streets, but he kept his gaze focused. This part of town had all but been cleared out by now, and he aimed to keep it that way. He'd found a handful of those mindless animals ransacking the pub earlier that day, so clearly one of his patrols had made a slip up, and he didn't intend to let that happen again. Once one person was infected, it would spread, and that was something they simply couldn't afford, it would be that much more difficult to put a stop to, so it was imperative that not a single mistake was made.
Of course, he'd tracked down the persons responsible, made sure they were properly dealt with and made an example of, so no one else would follow suit. One of those necessary little measures that had to be taken. Even Elijah hadn't argued with his decision. Though, interestingly enough, this was becoming increasingly more common, him and Elijah seeing eye to eye. He wasn't quite sure if it signified a change in him, or a change in his brother, though he was inclined to believe it was the latter.
As his clear blue eyes swept the vicinity, he could feel a certain melancholy arising, at the empty streets, all the vacant stalls and closed shops that once kept this place so lively. It felt...wrong, for this place to be so quiet. Normally, it would be packed with people, filled with music and laughter and food and art. Everyone was awake, and at all hours of the day, there was always something you could find to do. It was actually a little difficult to find a moment of quiet around here.
But, now...now, that was all ruined, wasn't it?
Those damn witches had done their work. There was fear everywhere, and those who weren't falling prey to the spreading disease...well, they were just running scared. Everyone was running, or hiding, and he hated it. He hated seeing it. It was a coward's move, and, as much as it made complete sense for everyone to be doing it, to try to ensure their own survival--for that matter, it was something he himself had been forced to resort to in the past on numerous occasions to escape his own share of threats--it meant no one was willing to stand up and do something about the actual problem. They were all interested in saving their own skins. But then, what could the majority of them even do against this new terror?
He narrowed his eyes at this line of thought. What was it these witches had hoped to achieve in doing this? Were they, perhaps, trying to turn the tide back in their own favor? They felt they had been suppressed lately, so they decided to summon an army of the Undead to do their bidding? To clear this place of all their enemies, so they could be on top once again?
How truly ruthless they were. And here they had the audacity to call him, along with all his fellow vampires, the monsters.
He stopped short in his walk, however, when he noticed a rather familiar figure standing in the middle of the square, and he had to pause to observe her for a moment, to make sure it really was who he had thought he'd seen. She was standing in front of one of the street paintings, seemingly lost in her own reflections, and she was tracing the skilled brushstrokes.
But...it really was her, wasn't it? Well, this was a surprise, to say the least. Damon had only made the decision to head this way a few short days ago, how had they gotten here so quickly? The roads must be much clearer than he'd been led to believe. Unless, of course, they'd just been considerably lucky. With this lot, though? It wasn't entirely unheard of. Cleverness and a whole lot of luck was sort of the ace they always had up their sleeve.
Walking toward the girl then, the Original folded his hands behind his back, and an easy smile came to rest upon his expression.
"'Evening, sweetheart," he greeted, and his smile broke into a chuckle. "I must say, you're here much sooner than expected. You made good time." He couldn't help wondering where the rest of her merry party had gotten off to.
Damon Salvatore: Welcome everyone! Take a look around and sign up for a character! Lots of canons still available!
Dec 25, 2015 2:39:10 GMT
Niklaus Mikaelson: Loved the scandalous photo, mate. Did you notice, it almost looks like young Jeremy is trying to karate chop the back of his head, doesn't it?
Jan 12, 2016 10:58:07 GMT
Damon Salvatore: Huh...you're right. Didn't notice that, but appreciate the pointer ;1 I just love how Jer's in such obvious pain while Silas doesn't even look phased by it. Not even so much as a wince.
Jan 12, 2016 11:01:12 GMT
Damon Salvatore: I also love how we're talkin in three different places at once ;1
Jan 12, 2016 11:03:57 GMT
Niklaus Mikaelson: Heheh. Oh yes, it's very impressive on the old sod's part, and...sadly, a bit shameful for our dear Jeremy ;1 You have to appreciate the contrast.
Jan 12, 2016 11:04:50 GMT
Niklaus Mikaelson: Heh. Well, we just couldn't get enough of each other, obviously ;1
Jan 12, 2016 11:06:47 GMT
Damon Salvatore: Obviously ;1 And yep, definitely a moment in time worth appreciating.
Jan 12, 2016 11:10:44 GMT
Damon Salvatore: Malachai Parker YES!! Most epic scandal ever!!! I could...well, kiss you for putting that up
Jan 14, 2016 5:28:19 GMT
Malachai Parker: I just...I just, had to!
Jan 14, 2016 5:51:42 GMT
Niklaus Mikaelson: Love the plot page, by the way, mate. I like that template you went with. And, of course...what's not to love about that color scheme? ;1
Jan 14, 2016 6:42:13 GMT
*
Damon Salvatore: Right? Always so classic ;1 But thanks. Pretty fond of it myself.
Jan 14, 2016 6:45:30 GMT
Nikolaj Lyons: Yes, I see that. What a marvelous friend you make too ;1 You certainly make this whole undead business seem a bit less...oh, shall we say bleak?
Jun 20, 2017 23:17:42 GMT
Terrence Lyons: Bleak is a good word for it, I'd think, yes. And, ohh...what can I say? I just have that effect Your continued presence doesn't make it so bad, either.
Jun 21, 2017 14:53:56 GMT
Happy to have appeared, Mr. Salvatore.