Katherine Pierce

He just stopped. Really shouldn’t have because, yeah. Turning your back on a the supernatural was beyond dangerous but Sam was just done tonight. Besides, he was as big and angry as Jason Vorhees and that had to count for something, right?

It spoke, and it was a her. Of course it was because Sam’s life was just like that. He sighed but kept his back to her and weighed his options. Now would be a really good time to use the element of surprise and just… lop her head off. Because tonight was bullshit.

He couldn’t really turn around swinging, though. It could just as easily be a human or something, someone who needed his help. Yeah right. Not with his luck. Better safe than sorry, though, “Yeah, I’m not really in the mood so if you could just...” Just walk on.

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.”   

It was probably better that she was both attractive and making with the compliments or she might’ve been dead by now. “Oh? That’s interesting,” he said raising a singular thick brow in her direction. Has this girl hurt Bonnie? Now his gut was burning with rage that he had to keep a lid on “I’m Kai,” he offered out his hand to get a read on her but wasn’t sure if she’d take it knowing he’s a witch. “Leader of the Gemini coven.” Now he’s flashing a charming smile to help reel her in hook line and sinker.

“Leader. Interesting.” Pulling a flask filled with bourbon from within the confines of her cleavage, Katherine popped open the cap, cheersing to Kai before taking a swig. If only to drown out the smell of this rancid shop. “Well, here’s a little info for future reference, hot stuff. I’ve also lost interest in taking orders.”

“The occasion is you’re here.” He replies, raising his eyebrow at her latter three words. It might have been a combination of all three, but there is hardly any way in which he is going to admit that aloud to her.  

“I’ve never felt pity for you, Katerina.” Pity means that he thinks she cannot handle herself and that she is a broken little thing. Not something he’d ever seen her as, not even within the worst moments when his thoughts of her are hardly pleasant. Times that were in the past before they connected once more, only to find themselves there, knowing nothing can be what it once was. “Wariness.” He almost hates himself for even letting him travel down the road in which her intentions are as viscous as the idea he allowed Bonnie to put in his head. “Is that a yes to the drink?”

He looked good, that she couldn’t deny. Then again, this was Elijah Katherine was talking about, so he’d always look good. "You haven’t changed.”

Exhaling a light sigh, she perches a seat on one of the cafe’s outside tables, one leg folding over the other around the same time her smirk turns playful. “Come on, indulge me for a little while, please. What have I missed?”

Take tonight. Sam wasn’t hunting anything but anything found him anyway and left him covered in blood and bruises. His bruises, the others blood. What got him was that he wasn’t scared of what he fought and killed, if he was honest he was worried about the reaction from the other supernatural creatures in the quarter when they found out a hunter put a monster in the ground. He wasn’t even sure what it was, just that it had fur. A lot of it.

It was over. Sam was dragging himself through the ninth ward with a machete hanging from his hand and yeah he was kinda in no mood and so ignoring whoever or whatever was following him. Quiet and to himself in a sigh, “Crap.”

Winchester. That’s who she was interested in. What, you think Katherine’s out here in her brand new Louis Vuitton boots because she’s hungry for conversation? No, she’s got some serious business that needs tending to and hint, it wasn’t with Dean.

No, that one was about as interesting as watching paint dry. Also, can you say the words collateral damage? No, Katherine wants somebody a little more dependable, but his brother? Now that’s exactly the kind of dependable she needs.

From behind Sam, “Nice blade.” She’s standing there, smirk in motion, head slightly tilted and hands firmly planted at her waist. Katherine’s only heard a story or two about the infamous Winchesters in passing, but it was still early days, Funnily enough for her, she caught just enough to know what she needs next. More on that later. But for now.

“You must be Sam.” Don’t ask her how she knows these things, she just does. Or Katherine’s seen him out getting coffee with Dean a couple of times and she’s simply going off a hunch, but the first one just sounded so much more mysterious. “We haven’t officially met. I’m Katherine.”

There was still that feeling nagging at the back of his brain. She was weird, sure, but there was something else. Maybe she had a crisis in the middle of the night, maybe she has multiple personalities, it could be something normal, but with his luck, that was never the case, so he decided to test it a little bit. “So, can’t help but wonder what brings a girl like you to New Orleans.” He said, posing it as a question. If she remembered the conversation from last night, he’d drop it, if she didn’t he would have to keep pressing, which he absolutely did not want to do, but his instincts wouldn’t allow him to stop questioning it without confirmation.

“And what about you? Oh, wait. Let me guess. It’s the perfect place to brood.”

He gave her another glance, this was not the girl he remembered at all. She spoke differently, sounded differently, fuck, she even looked and dressed differently. It gave his hunter radar a good jump, mostly just out of suspicion. Regardless, this seemed like it could be fun, and until she proved dangerous, he was more than happy to play her game, whatever it may be. “You look like you could use another drink, take off that edge of yours.” He commented with a wink before waving the bartender to get a round of shots.

Smirking playfully, she holds up her own drink, gesturing to him before taking the final swig and placing the empty glass down on the table, “So, what’s the name, handsome? My memory’s a little fuzzy.”

He’s guilty of a lot of things when it comes to the woman that had been so heavily a part of his past even when he hadn’t seen her for most of it. He always chose his family and even as he sat at the bar nursing the glass of bourbon he seemed to enjoy more often than not as of late, he would make his choices over again. Even if the tension would rise to unspeakable heights. 

His eyes glance as the heels are heard, setting his gaze upon her. He fully expects for her to join him, holding out his arm to offer her the seat from where he remains. Though his features hardly remained as hardened as they were for anyone else within the bar, softening just enough at seeing her. She’d always been a weak spot and likely always would. Even Celeste had and she tried to murder him and his entire family. “Let me buy you a drink.” 

Back to their last fleeting moments together, except there wasn’t really much together-y-ness to it now, was there? No, just a typical Damon, her deterioration, and a bag full of mind games and it’s enough to make a girl bitter altogether. 

"What’s the occasion?” Katherine’s slowly heading towards the bar, looking conflicted as she resentfully places her bag down on the top of it like she has the intention of staying. She doesn’t know why Elijah has so much power over her, because what she should really be doing, is telling him to stick that drink where the sun doesn’t shine. Along with how much she doesn’t care, except they both knew that was a lie, “Guilt, pity, or curiosity?”

          She’s not kidding, either. Call her optimistic, but Faith was hoping this wouldn’t be another Sunnydale. Turns out? It’s worse, a lot worse and there are fewer Buffys and more Faiths to take the brunt of it. Brunt? Faith no likey.

                                          At least this one’s not throwing shade at her from the get-go, that’s something. It’s suspicious something, though, but at this point she’s so starved for a civil word (not even a kind word, just civil) that she lets the fact that this girl is obviously something bitey run right passed her, “Ask how you know my name but I’m gettin’ that a lot, these days.”

“Not ignoring the jacket, the good hair.” She smirks, somewhat playful and advances a few, slow steps towards Faith, fingers lightly tugging on her own jacket, “But when a little birdy told me that the legendary tale that is vampire slayers had arrived in New Orleans in the flesh, I got curious.”

He sauntered over to the place in which she sat, taking the chair next to her and waving the bartender for a glass bourbon. “Back so soon?” He asked, turning his head to the brunette as his order was placed in front of him. “I’m gunna assume it’s been a rough week so far, huh?” He asked, bringing his drink to his mouth.

Still, Katherine’s looking for a little pick me up and this just might be what she needs. Glancing at the mystery guy sat down beside her, she pauses, pretending not to know who he is even though she really doesn’t, all while gesturing at him with her fork, “Sorry, are you number four or five? I’m having trouble keeping up.”

                   Depressing, that’s the only way to describe Faith’s neighborhood. Lowlands, flat and peppered with ruins and charity homes that are already starting to rot through. She’s taking the long way, down the aptly named Flood Street and headed for Claiborne and the piece of shit she calls home. At least for now.

      Better than a shelter, sort of. At least shelters have clean sheets and hot coffee.

                                   She’s not alone on Flood, she knows that much but this week’s taken a lot out of her and she frankly just wants to ignore this confrontation and go home. Duty, though. Bullshit duty. It stops Faith in her tracks and she lets out a half sigh but doesn’t turn around, “Yeah, well. Of course. C'mon, let’s make this fast.”

Slayers. She’s heard stories in her time, but that’s all that they were. Word from mouth to mouth and if there’s one thing Katherine’s learned in all her five hundred years of living running, it’s that people lie, and cheat, and steal.

Some may call her a hypocrite, but she calls herself a survivor, and if there’s really a vampire slayer in town, well that’s just one golden trophy waiting to be manipulated, “We haven’t officially met. I’m Katherine.”