ryan clarke

“Turns out dying multiple times and never being able to find any iota of peace can be quite an enlightening experience.” The golem offered with a shrug. “You guys seem rather fond of my brother.”

“Less than impressed, frankly.” they replied, avoiding answering his question. “Are you really telling me someone had a hard time picking between you and our Saint and Savior Stefan Salvatore? Doesn’t seem like there would be much competition.”

“Finally, someone gets it.” they laugh, turning to face the man. “They throw monster around far too lightly.”

​Their time on the planet has been punctuated with migration, moving from place to place, mirroring the movements of their father as well as branching out entirely on their own. Still, they had never stopped in the Crescent City, and if they were going to be alive ( as unfortunate as that was ), they might as well learn a bit about the place waiting for the city to erupt into chaos. Stopping at the nearby tourist center, they left with their hands filled to the brim with brochures.  “This place really has a lot to see... Wonder what percent are just tourist traps.”

Their time at the Salvatore Boarding School had taught them many things about the school and it’s history. Learned about the drama that came before the founding of the school, the infamous story of the Salvatore brothers, pictures included, so when they saw the elder brother, well, they were a little less than impressed. “You’re Damon Salvatore? I thought you were supposed to be intimidating... not... whatever this is..”

They don’t interrupt their brother as he lashes back, and he can’t even blame him. He brings up his life, about the far from perfect reality he lived for years while he stood by. They’d made a vow never to get too close, never to interfere unless necessary, and all it had earned them was more pain and death than already plagued their existence. It would have been easy to remain silent even after the phoenix throws the last jab, but they can’t help but crack a somber smile.  “Do you know what my job was before watching you?” They don’t wait long enough for their youngest brother to speak before explaining. “When I didn’t turn out like Dad planned, he kept making more of us. One after another, after another,  leaving them for me to raise and take care of until the time was right. When they failed, he just kept the cycle going... they just turned into numbers for him.” He clasps his hands, looking off at nothing in particular as his mind searches through the past, through a life of inadequacy in the eyes of their father, and of a life of hard work that had earned him nothing but the ache in his chest he felt now.  “Dad wasn’t really a dad... and I didn’t know the first thing about raising someone else... but I figured it out. I loved them... all of them... and now they’re all gone. Everyone is gone, but me - ” Looking up from his hands, he looks at the phoenix. “ - and you. If it makes you feel any better, I’m not happy either of us are here. ”

@malivoreson

In some ways, it was just a thrill to the golem to see the younger child of Malivore riled up, but it was equally as satisfying to take out years of resentment and mud daddy issues on him.  “Why would I help father’s prodigal son?” It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been assigned to watch over him and Seylah. “You’re his favorite, of course he saw to it that you had a loophole to dying. A good thing considering you can’t keep yourself alive.” He hadn’t even been at the Salvatore School a year before he’d kicked the bucket the first time. “My job to protect you and watch over you was over the instant you found dear old dad and your time to be meat puppet extraordinaire came around. Which, as per usual, you managed to fuck up.”

“And you’re still alive.” Rolling their eyes, the golem couldn’t be less impressed if they actively tried to. “Guess we can’t have it all, can we?”

“I hear there was quite a disturbance at the Halloween Party.” the golem offered, lips twitching up at the inevitable series of events that had taken place at the event hosted by one of the Saltzman’s. He might not have heard all the details, but he couldn’t help but find it humorous none the less. “Everyone make it out alive?”