running from those days

“It’s frustrating really,” Rebekah told the waitress compelled to listen to her endless complaints, nod with a smile and refill her coffee when she’d started to run low. “I came back to help my family, but I hadn’t planned to stay and now there’s just something making it far too difficult to do that without feeling selfish despite the fact I had made it clear upon my return. I just wanted to live a normal life… but Nik, he’s a bit of an arse. Even if I did get over the whole letting them down, I don’t think he’d let me go again. Not really.” Her eyes falling upon a man sitting near the darker corner of the cafe’ with a pencil in his mouth, pecking away at his keyboard. This place was mostly dead except for the three of them. “Excuse me, um.” The barista spoke up upon noticing the blonde vampire staring “He looks normal.” There’s a pointed look she’s giving the women, but soon after she’s internally debating it before vocalizing the concerns. “Yes well, normal as he seems. It’s never been a good idea for me to get involved with someone like him. Trust me.” The other women’s frowning and mentioning something that the original had brought up earlier in their conversation. “I thought you said the first rule of truly living was to do something you’re most afraid of?” Rebekah’s gaze fell before she gave a little snap. “I’m not afraid.” That was a lie. “Oh.” Replied the young barista. “I just thought— how come you don’t just go and talk to him then?” Shaking her blonde curls, she responds. “He’s busy anyways.”

“I’ve seen him look over here like fifteen times already.” This has the vampires breath catching in her throat. “He has?” Maybe he could hear them. Oh God… that would be like super embarrassing. Nodding, the barista flashed a weak smile as she gestured towards him with her eyes and reflexively the Mikaelson sibling looked and their eyes locked. Dammit. Rebekah looked away from him and whispered to the girl “Fill this now and go away, you won’t remember any of what I’ve said until next I tell you.” to which she was compelled to comply. From that moment afterwards, Rebekah sat in place drinking her coffee and trying to contemplate whether or not she should got up to him. In the end… She decided to put her family life aside for the time being to do something bold.

Paying closer attention to him with her senses Rebekah was able to notice when he was completely off guard, which took a bit of time considering despite the fact that he seemed busy on his laptop… He was tense. Once she had managed to find the perfect timing though she was up and at his side within seconds. There was a warm smile on her face as she leaned on his chair slightly to get a glimpse of what he’d been working so tediously on for the past forty five minutes. “What’s it about?” Her accent was thick as she licked at her lips before giving him a bat of darkened lashes and a bit of an assumption on what he was really doing just so that she could make conversation with him. “—Your book…”

@runningfromthosedays​

It was just that New Orleans had such a fascinating history. Not just dark and demonic forces or shady activity because every major city had that. New Orleans was more. Warring factions, rival clans of species and special, foretold births and deaths. Like something out of a movie or even a holy book. Sam's research lead him to rituals, spells and even some mysterious symbols but it hadn't lead him to what he was looking for. Answers.

Even without those answers Sam was mesmerized by the knowledge, it was just too engrossing to look away from. So yeah, not ready. Not for anyone looking for conversation. He looked up from his laptop, confused, "Uh, book?" Because what? But then he realized it, "Oh, uh. Heh, no." He was a guy sitting alone in a coffee shop, staring intently at a laptop and typing his heart out. He probably looked like one of those douche bags who plug away on their device at Starbucks so everyone can see them writing their novel or screenplay, "Not a book, just..." 

Sam snapped the laptop shut, nervous was his middle name because he didn't come up with a good cover for his activities in case someone tried to chat him up because, yeah. Nobody ever tried to chat him up. So he just said the first thing that came to mind and he said it fast, "Book report. Ah, I mean uh. Report. About a... book. Yeah, that was awkward, wasn’t it?"

@runningfromthosedays

Allison was running through the woods, the sky turning from bright orange to purple above her. Something was nagging at her about that counselor and how strange she acted. Then again – perhaps it was normal for a teacher to be concerned if a student brought a ‘weapon’ to school. But she didn’t react like any other teacher would have – instead she acted like she knew something. Something which was bothering Allison on levels to the point she wasn’t able to sleep steadily at night. Finally coming to a slow jog Allison glanced up at the stars as they just began to light up the night sky. But the sound of a twig snapping had her turning on her heel, bow and arrow released and coming to close to someones head. ”Oh my god.” She said realizing she nearly killed someone just because she freaked herself out. 

Well. He would just have to make the best of things alone. Dean was on his own mission.

And, OK. Maybe given the fact that he was alone, creeping trails at night at his height might look kinda suspicious. He did have that Jason Vorhees thing going on. He had a reason, though. Trying to use a crappy book from the darkest and dustiest corner of the public library to match carved and burned symbols, hoping he just might be able to suss out a border. Where the local witches power ended because where their boundaries laid the vampire boundaries began and he needed to know more about the local factions.

He was concentrating on a crude carving in a telephone pole when WHIPPPPPP, the carving was hit by an arrow out of nowhere, "Whoa!"

            "Hobbyist, right.” she pushes off the desk and walks toward him, “That’s strike two, Hightower. Let’s try this again and remember to speak up, I hate a mumbler. My club, my back room. You’re in it, why?”

                                   The guy is gorgeous, looks better the closer she gets but he’s not as pretty as he is an impending problem. She expects him to back up. Even big, tall and strong as he looks, Faith’s never come across a man who took the look in her eyes as an idle threat, “Word to the wise? You don’t wanna get to strike three.”

Sam backed up because she was actually formidable, in that little body with those great big eyes. Honestly. He was pretty sure she meant that snarl. He coughed and tried to laugh it off, "Uh yeah."

OK. What now? He couldn't keep lying. For one, he was bad at it and for two, ...he wasn't really sure she was human and it was probably not a good idea to poke that bear, "Ok, ok. Look. This club is supposed to be a beacon for vampires and," Yeah. Honesty, great, "I'm hunting vampires." That sounded so lame.

Katia was pleasantly surprised when the stranger actually gave her an answer other than no. “Alamilla.” She answered, unsure if it would be in her best interest to mention the name Mikaelson. She was unsure if this man knew of them or the supernatural and if he did, she wanted to avoid any issues with him. 

“I can definitely try to help. What are you looking for?” Maybe she’d be able to point him in the right direction. It was unlikely but still something she’d take a chance on. 

Sam had to be careful. Who knew if Katia was telling the truth. She could be supernatural herself. They were in a public building so the possibility that she was a vampire was always there and he couldn't risk being totally honest with her. He had trusted unwisely in the past.

So he ignored her question of who he was looking for and jumped right in to help with her own search, "OK, right. Do you have any dates or... I mean, is Alamilla all you have to go on?"

“It’s fine, free country after all.” She offered a small smile, picking up the book that seemed to be what fit what she’s searching for. Now that she thought about it, maybe this man may be able to help her. 

“Hey um…” She thought how to phrase her words as she made her way over to where he sat. “Do you know anything about old families here in New Orleans?” She’d either be searching for the Mikaelson’s since they were here around the time she had been buried, or at least that’s what she thought or she’d be searching for Alamilla, and more than likely just find herself being the only person listed as having that surname. 

                "Weird activity in New Orleans? Man, you don’t say?” if Faith sounds sarcastic, it’s because that’s her natural state and this dummy kicked the hive. She doesn’t move from where she is, just waits out his lame-ass excuse to see where it gets him.

     Doesn’t seem like it’s getting him very far.

                           She likes to think she’s got more patience than she did a few years ago but the lie is getting stupid and Faith finally puts her hand up, “Stop, stop. Back up. Look, you’re not the first douche canoe to try breaking in here but that’s gotta be the worst excuse. Ever think about hiring a freelancer to write your copy? C'mon, Brawny, cough it up. What’s so interesting in here you gotta scratch up my door? Just re-hung that thing.”

"I'm not robbing the place or anything. Just. Well, I'm kinda into the supernatural and paranormal," He had no poker face though. It was a good save and Sam knew it, so evident in his expression, "Like a hobbyist? And... there are rumors about this place."

Katia decided it was about high time she traced back her place within New Orleans. She couldn’t figure out a proper timeline but now she had a chance to. Determining why she had been buried here so long ago might help her piece some things from her past together. She decided that the library would be the best place to start. 

She assumed there wasn’t much to look forward to when it came to genealogy but when Katia saw someone else in the room she paused, her first reaction being to hide behind one of the many bookshelves. 

The witch tried to go about her business, searching for anything that may have looked similar to her last name but when the man spoke out, she realized she’d been caught. Katia sighed, stepping out from behind the bookshelf and showing herself.

When she showed herself though he didn't really know how to react to her. The girl was pretty but dramatic looking and she didn't really seem to fit in line with what passed for normal, even in New Orleans. Sam wasn't even good at faking normal but at least it was easier if he could identify it on sight.

He shut his book and smoothly put a less damning title on top of it then tried to smile but it came off as a little nervous, "Oh. Hey. Sorry, I didn't know anybody was back there."

After a moment and a few words he came to the conclusion he would have to spell it out for his brother who apparently always assumed the worse. “Woah, no! Shut your face for a minute, it’s not the baby thing, thank Chuck, and it’s not herpes, or anything other sexual disease for that matter, either.” Although, it may very well be worse than either of those things in Sam’s eyes. “She sort of has a special diet and some dental issues that insurance won’t cover.” He paused a moment, waving his beer in a one armed shrug. “She’s a vampire.” He said, immediately preparing for an explosion.

Special diet. Dental issues, "Well. I thought, OK. So she's got these weird Kirsten Dunst teeth but maybe he thinks it's cute or... maybe he didn't notice?" Rolling eyes at himself, "I mean. I didn't wanna say anything." Yeah. Sam knew he was coming off judgmental. Caroline was a very pretty kid and honestly if she were older and he never heard her talk... yeah, probably not. His taste in women was. Well, it wasn't preppy blondes. Not anymore. They got along, that was all that mattered. Well. That and she was legal, thank god, "Maybe take a picture? Like... if the insurance company could just see her teeth?"

He was harping so hard on it that the revelation of her vampirism hit him too fast, "What? Did you say... oh god. Oh god, Dean. Are you OK?" Judgey brother melted right into supportive brother, Sam's face said it all, "Well. Yeah, of course you're not OK. Oh man. Caroline... she was so young. I'm sorry. I'm sorry you had to go through that..."

@ runningfromthosedays

Spike didn’t like the fact that some sort of spell, at least he figured it had to be a spell, was keeping him from leaving the French Quarter.  As a borne and bred Brit, he didn’t have the fondest love for the French.  The fleur de lis decor was starting to get under his skin.  At least, that’s what he’d admit was bothering him.  

The real problem was that he found the truth slipping out of his mouth in weird ways all night. He stood at some invisible wall, near a back alley, that reminded him of the barrier that kept him out of homes if he hadn’t been invited, and slammed his hands against the “wall” only to find them repelled. 

“Oh, you’ve got to be sodding kidding me!”  He groused, then let his face shift into its vampire visage as he ran at it and was tossed backwards, right into someone.

He shook his head and looked up, human mask falling back into place, “Oh uh, funny gag, right?”

Sam was determined to find his way out. His 4g was working so they were probably not in a pocket dimension that just... really looked like the French quarter. But there was this barrier and he was walking it's perimeter with a hand out in mid air to feel along the invisible fence keeping them in. There had to be a way out. No hex or spell was perfect.

     Probably some teenager from the Quarter trying to look cool, not the first time it’s happened. Not the last time it’ll happen. She tries to be cool about the shenanigans of the local kids, they got enough to worry about. What with New Orleans crawling with things that wanna eat them and all. So no cops, no screaming. Just plans to make them think twice about breaking into her place again. She’s got enough to worry about, too, after all.

                               Though, when the door opens it’s not a kid. Unless they inject kids with bovine growth hormone these days? He’s big, crazy big. Built like a brick wall and Faith is way, way overdue so she’s got to force the smartass look back onto her face, “Who the hell are you supposed to be, the Bounty guy?”

She was hot. Drop dead gorgeous in a terrifying kind of way. Dark hair and eyes and all that leather. Yeah. It scrambled Sam's brain and his nerdy need to correct incorrect trivia was totally winning, "The, uh. The Brawny guy was the lumberjack."

Shut up. Shut up! Sam swallowed thickly, "So. I guess this probably looks bad? I can explain. Ok, well I'm with the neighborhood watch," Crap. Bad excuse, "And there's been some weird activity lately..."

Alone again, the little one had wandered again to parts of the Quarter yet unexplored for her. A blessing, she considered it, since now she was going to call this place home. She doubts after the events previous that she will just be allowed to leave New Orleans, though she doesn’t really wish to. Finally with her family, she wants to get to know them before making any true choices about her future. 

Eyes peeled, he saw a girl looking lost and out of place. Just the kind of girl a demon would prey on, "Hey." OK so he was pretty crappy at striking up a conversation. Points for effort, "Uh. You look lost, are you lost? I mean. Can I help?"

She advances a few more steps towards him, fingers lightly tugging at her black jacket but she’s keeping just enough distance in case there’s any unwanted tricks up his sleeve. He seemed kind of testy. “I didn’t come here to fight you, Sam. If I did, you’d tell by the being dead already.”   

Sam just watched her move. Slinky. Sexy. God it was unfair. The last girl he saw Dean with was some peppy blonde cheerleader and yeah it kinda sucked that obvious monster girl was the first girl to look at him twice in months, "Right. You're tough." They pretty much all did the tough act though but they didn't all know his name, "What do you want?"

He prepared himself, trying to remain casual about the entire thing before inwardly groaning as Sam closed his laptop, giving Dean his undivided attention. “Uh, Caroline. You remember her, right? Cute, blonde, came over a few times and you complained about noise like a bitchy neighbor.” He listed off, knowing very well Sam had to remember her, it had only been a month or so since they’d last seen her. “I found out something about her, actually.”

Sam didn't need to open his laptop again. No. Did he want to? Sure. Dean though, he was telling Sam something very important. Probably. So he should totally listen and not just... peek at Facebook.

Only what Dean said... well, it got Sam's attention in a big way and now his brother had all his focus, "Wait, whoa... you didn't get her. I mean, you guys aren't... like." Yeah, probably not. Sam sighed with relief, "No, hey. Of course not." Dean, well he wasn't really the father type anyway. More like... a momma hen. Ok, shake that mental picture if you can. Gross. What if it was something important, though? Sam's mind wandered to the wrong place, "Oh god. Oh god, wait... it's herpes, isn't it?"