#marcelxthexking

✉  SMS to Marcel intended for Mattie  ✉

Bonnie: hey, are you going to caroline’s party?

Bonnie: she’s making me bring a plus one and if i don’t look for one myself, she’s going to play matchmaker

Bonnie: i do not want to go on another date with Pete the campus t-shirt designer. Last time he made me wear his ‘Female Body Inspector’ v neck so he could promote it at her fourth of july party. 

Bonnie: …

Bonnie: sorry, wrong person.

Derek cocked a brow at the King of the Quarter. He’d stumbled across the pair arguing on his way back to the loft and made a direct beeline for them. Marcel talking to Cora couldn’t possibly be a good thing…unless he was trying to scope out her threat level just like he’d done with Derek.

“Okay, but who are you calling annoying?” He asked with a low growl, careful to not be too intimidating in case it somehow affected the current peace the Hale’s maintained with the Vamps. Of course, he knew Cora could be annoying as hell but only he was allowed to say that… 

The alpha wasn’t even going to touch the virgin part. Nope. Simply not going there.

“I was just saying, she had a point.” Marcel replied with a roll of his eyes, a slight smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Right.” Derek shot back sarcastically, reflecting the smile in order to keep the peace. “Do I even want to know how you met my sister?” He added, testing the waters slightly whilst simultaneously steering the conversation away from her current sexual status, or lack thereof…for fear of her stubborn ego taking offense and saying something stupid. 

“Oh, c’mon mister music man,You’re killing me with that smile.Oh I could dance the night away, Dance the devil to his grave!Mooch to the left, Mooch to the right, C’mon mister music man!Oh you can keep you whiskey,You can keep your gin, You can stop you preaching,Cause it ain’t no crime, to sing!”

Jennifer finished her go on the karaoke to quite an enthusiastic applause. But then, she was rather talented, combined with her stylist hair, done up, and the red dress she had on she was more than confident this evening. Rousseau’s was lucky to have her. It wasn’t a school night and since she was alone this evening, why not? The music was a familiar friend to her, and always made her smile. Where else to sing jazz but in New Orleans?

She stepped down from the stage and elegantly swayed to the bar, more than aware there were one or two sets of eyes following her. She ordered a chilled white wine and turned back with the drink, she wanted to sit down but the tables were all occupied. She spotted a table occupied by a single man, that would do. She made to walk by and expertly stumbled slightly, not spilling any wine, and smiled at the man.

“Whoops, sorry about that. Still a little flushed from the stage. Would you mind if I could keep you company for a few minutes? That and my feet are killing.” she added with a small smile.

“When the world has literally fallen on top of you, your view of it isn’t as pure.” Allison said with a huff, her fingers curled around the banded hilt of her dagger. With a deep breath in, she’d hurled the perfectly weights knife into the adjacent wall. It seemed like the only way she could center her thoughts. 

Waking up each day seemed more like a struggle than a miracle. Her body slowly begun to repair itself. Every bruised bit and weakened fiber worked feveriously to repair what seemed to slip away. Allison felt displaced and thrown to the waste side; time wasn’t on her side. 

The truth was, Gia was tired. What she longed for was her bed in her crappy apartment. An apartment that was, finally, put back together, looking as if she had never destroyed it all. Minus some of her sister things, of course. Some things once broken could not be repaired, after all.

But she needed to check in with Marcel.

She’d spent the better part of the day on guard duty at the Mikaelsons. Which was tiring in it’s own special way, but was a position she always made sure she was available for, all while trying not to appear so.

Her worry for Marcel, and the need to check in, was stronger and more important than testing at the moment. Every time she met with him, she hoped to see more the Marcel who had given her her daylight ring. Less of the Marcel who was angry and grief stricken, making rules, trusting no one.

She knocked but let herself in.

@marcelxthexking

It was a quiet afternoon, school’s had finished but it was still early enough that tourist activity wasn’t too manic. He’d still kept to his later hours though but with it being dark now he’d been closing in ten minutes. Egrid’s health was improving; his bruises had faded somewhat to a dull green on most of his face and neck and his casts should be coming off either next week or the week after. The bandages on his chest had been changed and were ‘improving nicely’ at least they didn’t hurt when so much when he took in a big breath. 

He was shutting down the store for the evening when the bell tinkled he looked up, stilling as his blood ran cold. Marcel Gerard had finally come to pay him a visit. Weeks had past be he recalled vividly making brief eye-contact with the vampire in the graveyard, the king of the quarter. A king who was lightly here to either punish or interrogate him...    

send ✺for a sassy text

[ TEXT ] The king can only rule the throne for so long

It was funny, really. No matter where you went on this God forsaken earth, no matter who you ran into or what you witnessed, everyone was the same. Humanity as a whole shared the same singular desire. The thirst for power. New Orleans, the Quarter, it was no different. It didn’t matter what your species; witch, werewolf, vampire. Creatures large and small all coveted that singular 5 letter word. The greater the power, the larger the ego. The more they’d walk around flaunting their abilities, their minions, their nicknames. 

The ‘King of the Quarter’ was no different to any other current leader. Walking around with his head up his ass demanding respect for an authority ripped from its predecessor. No matter, for like his predecessor, it wouldn’t be long till it was ripped from him. Dethroned and forgotten, like every ruler before him had been. The quest for power was one that most did not come back from.

“Can you just shut up for five minutes” Ric was exasperated, sick of hearing the same old ‘this is my quarter’ spiel. “I get it. You’re a vamp. You have scary powers. Yada yada yada.” He rolled his eyes and shoved his hands back into his pockets, wondering why he accepted this meeting in the first place. The supernatural feud between the species wasn’t usually his scene unless of course it meant protecting the humans he represented.