Patience was never Kol’s strong suit.

And he knew he needed to be patient in order for his plans to unfold jussst right, else this was all for naught and he would find himself, once again, on the wrong end of a blade. Not to mention, he was unsure how the whole immortality clause applied in this new body, so it was easier to just assume death was a type of failure at this point. One of the many setbacks of this new image. Another? The vessel itself. Between the age and the whole being dead aspect, he couldn’t have a decent night out. Honestly, Kol wondered if he had really lost his touch these past couple of years or if the kid really had been that hopeless even before he took over.

Of course he enjoyed the game of pretend - between playing Kaleb and Isaac his hands were juggling quite a bit of the two and he liked keeping busy. After all, idle hands were the devil’s play thing. And as much as Klaus ( @niklaus-no-mans-son) liked to claim the title, he just didn’t like to admit he had competition for the wickedest of Mikaelsons.

As he had gathered, Marcel was running the show now, and from by what Mary had implied, it seemed the orphan boy had overreacted and was beginning to accumulate one too many enemies as a result. Which was why Kol now found himself in the Bayou. The wolves had been dealt a bad hand in the wake of Marcel’s wrath, and with his newfound body the perfect go-between, the Original figured he would pay the outcast group a little visit.

She supposed there was some kind of irony in Davina spending her last moments in her family’s tomb but all Sophie could think about was the Deveraux plot, Monique and Jane-Anne’s names permanately etched into the cold gray concrete all because of one girl. Luck be with her, she’d have found the girl alone but there Marcel was, still clinging to the side of the tiny witch like everything he’d built would tumble down if he didn’t have his not-so-secret weapon at his disposal at all times. A clay kindgom for a clay king, she thought with a bitter pang of resentmesnt.

“Its over.” The words are soft but the space is tiny enough that her voice resonates well enough anyway. Still, she doesn’t even realize she’s spoken until the words are out of her mouth and as a beat passes and she views the scene before her with extreme scrutiny it becomes clear that they were not needed; they’re defeated and they know it. She can see it in the glossiness of Davina’s gaze, in Marcel’s slunched shoulders; can feel it in the silence that comes from the Mikaelsons. Even the noble Elijah had sensed it. Deep down she feels the tiniest bit of guilt for interrupting what is clearly a private moment. “I can help you but you have to let me. You’re dying, Davina. You can feel it can’t you? If you go like this you won’t come back and neither will any of the other Harvest kids. Help me end this…Help me finish what was started.” 

Cora has been sat outside of the loft for hours--perhaps a day or two--she doesn’t remember anymore, but she’s not able to bring herself to go inside. She purposely made a point of wanting to be alone. Everything had changed the moment Derek died--a part of her died with him and she thought about everything which had been happening lately.

She and Derek were never meant to find any happiness, they were both foolish enough to believe they could get into relationships and fall in love. She knew her brother was feeling that way about Hayley and even though Cora had only kissed Stiles, it was a massive turning point for the youngest Hale who had never taken things as far. 

--her heart feels nothing now though, but hurt and revenge. People in life just think they can take from her family--kill her family and get away with it. Who can blame them? Wherever Kate is, she still has her family, the Argents and Cora has no clue what has happened to Jennifer, but she assumes she is alive. The thought of all this just fuels the anger inside. Now anger has always been an emotion that the young wolf can cling to quite well. It hides the underlying feelings and keeps them from the world, the truth which would tell everyone she is barely hanging on. 

So there are two ports of call she is going to make a beeline for and the first is the school, to find out Jennifers details and hunt the damn bitch down--it doesn’t take her long to get there. Her own welfare is sidelined. There is no logical sense of self-preservation here, her thoughts are severely clouded and anyone who gets in her way will have to be physically stronger to stop her. 

She heads for the classroom that Blake taught in and luckily there are no students, but there are a couple of teachers.  One by one she flips the desks over as she walks to the front. One teacher attempts to walk out of the class and alert everyone else--though the noise has probably alerted plenty of people anyway.

“I want to know all the details you have on a certain Jennifer Blake...you know...the teacher who was working here...”

There’s movement behind her and she spins around quickly, dark hues piercing into the other as they walk into the room, but at least she is keeping her wolf under control....for now.

“Stay out of this!...this is of no concern to you!...I mean it...steer clear...”

She casts a quick glance to the teacher who is rooted to the spot and turns her words to him.

Matt wasn't sure what @thexstubbornxhale had meant exactly with the bayou being dangerous. Yeah, he kinda knew that the werewolves lived there and such, but he actually thought that the whole point of their kinda fight was that the werewolves weren't dangerous, or at least, not more dangerous than humans. Or something like that. He wasn't really sure anymore. He just knew that he wanted to prove Cora that he wasn't gonna ignore and leave her. He for sure was gonna prove that he didn't want things to change because she was a werewolf. Although, it was kinda hard. All his friends had kept secrets. There was this whole hidden world and it seemed like he was the last one to find out about it. But that didn't change the fact that Cora lost her brother. Again. And he kinda knew how that felt and like she had been there for him while he was dealing with the Vicki stuff, he now wanted to be there for her. 

He parked the car as near as he dared and then he made his way through the bayou until he stood in front of her place. Reluctantly he knocked on the door and quickly he hid his hands in the pockets of his jeans.

They weren’t supposed to be here, not like this, not so soon.

Déjà vu hit hard, only this time the memorial service for their Aunt hadn’t been haphazardly thrown together for a person they barely knew. But John Gilbert’s sacrifice was an unhealed wound, and once again the guilt began to bubble uncomfortably in the pit of her stomach along with the same question Elena had been trying to push as far away from her mind as possible.

Who would be next?

And as more and more people began to file into St. Anne’s, Elena made the strategic decision to stand somewhere in-between Jeremy and the front- determined to create some sort of buffer between him and the well-meaning people who wanted to pay their respects. A quick survey of the room helped the brunette find John, fully in uniform, near the entrance of the Church, and idly she wondered if the hunter had had a similar idea.

She’d have to thank him later for this. For everything.

Polite responses were given as Elena tried to keep herself from standing still, her hands playing with a flower she had quickly picked from one of the arrangements just to have something to do. Quick answers of ‘we’re holding up okay,’ and ‘thank you’ were politely given. It was the only answer anyone wanted to hear, and Elena knew from experience they weren’t looking for anything more than that, and the offers to reach out if anything was needed was more for their benefit than hers or Jeremy’s.

Allison: I need help.

Allison: Can't explain.

“—John Alden, I’m a friend of the family’s.” He said, shaking the next person in line’s hand. He’d said it so many times by this point it hardly felt awkward anymore. “Thank you for coming, it means a lot to the kids. Very nice to meet you, Elena and Jeremy are right— yep, just around the corner.” He grimaced and resisted checking his watch. He was pretty sure they still had about an hour left of the memorial. He was doing his best to play host, directing people where to go, thanking them for their thoughts and prayers, but it was hard when he hardly knew any of these people. He wasn’t a part of this family, no matter how they split it. Still, it was what he could do.