Babe, there's something tragic about you, something so magic about you, don't you agree?~

December 22nd, 2013

The room was dark and smoky, clouded with the cloying scent of incense and herbs. The walls were decorated with odds and ends, things of power and mundane alike. A long wooden table dominated the center of the room, scuffed and pockmarked from ages of use resting on a hard packed dirt floor, pounded down from thousands of feet walking over it. People of all walks of life populated the room, from the old "psychic" woman to the well-to-do black couple in the tailored suits. Suddenly, a loud exclamation cut through the low hum of the room.

"The signs all point to it, though!" the man in the suit exclaimed, clutching his wife's hand.

"There have been many times in history that pointed to it, Edgar, you know this. We cannot jump to conclusions or needlessly panic just yet," replied a Latino boy, looking thoroughly done with the conversation.

Edgar clenched his teeth, backing down when his wife reprimanded him quietly. Others curiously looked on, having their own murmured conversations or just observing the heated debates surrounding them.

Unbeknownst to most in the room, they had a watcher.

In all of his considerable years of life, he'd never experienced the phenomena known as astral projection, or dream walking. Intellectually he knew that he was not physically present in the room with these bickering humans, yet everything seemed so vivid and real that he just knew instinctively that it was actually happening. He'd spent plenty of time in his current... predicament, to know that this was outside of it's scope. He also knew that it shouldn't be possible, the magics involved should have prevented anything like this from happening but, well. Here he was, clearly sometime far in the future from the day of his impromptu nap.

He watched with an amused detachment as the squabbling devolved into outright shouting, the Latino boy having stood up to lean over the table to get in the face of a purpling middle-aged construction worker. It reminded him of many a time spent with his own siblings. Instead of pondering any longer on his odd situation, he decided to observe closer.

As purple-face-Steve and tattooed-Tica continued to fruitlessly out-yell each other, another present looked at the watcher curiously. Obviously she was the only one who could see him as he was standing right next to old Tallulah and she didn't even acknowledge him save to shiver every once in a while.

He was very handsome, with dark hair and pale skin, a mischievous lilt to his full lips framed by stubble on his jawline and a devious sparkle to his dark eyes. He was dressed in clothes that looked to be from the early 20th century, but not the oddest thing she'd ever seen. He seemed just as confused as she was as to how he'd ended up in the highly warded location they used for meetings such as this.

Sensing that the argument may become even more...heated, so to say, she leaned forward from her seat in the shadows and said, "Enough."

Instantly, the fight ceased and everyone turned their attention to her, sheepish looks exchanged at their loss of decorum in front of their leader.

"It doesn't matter if all signs point to the prophecy. It is a prophecy, therefore it will come to pass no matter what anyone does. It is Destiny. You cannot fight Destiny."

"But... but that means that they will find out about us!" Exclaimed Edward, looking horrified by the prospect. She cast a surreptitious look at their watcher. "I suspect they would sooner than later regardless."

Pulling her attention back to her gathered council, she stood up and cast a stern look over the room at large. "If there is no other pressing business...?" A scattered round of 'No, Mistress' echoed from the group before one by one they started leaving. Soon enough only old Tallulah was left.

"Isis, I have known you since you were a child. I've watched you grow into the young woman you are today in the protection of the Sodality after you lost your parents. That said, be careful my dear. I feel a darkness stirring in the Energies around you," Tallulah said. Isis gazed at the woman who had practically raised her, eyes warming slightly from the steely flint they'd been before.

"Tallulah, you were the one who always told me that without darkness there cannot be light," she said gently, brushing a stray strand of the old woman's white hair back into it's place.

"Yes I did, darling, but too much darkness can snuff out the light as well," she said with a small smile, before a scowl broke out abruptly. "That's the only thing those addelpates got right." Isis snorted, used to the woman's derogatory view on everyone who wasn't them. "Oh, and Isis? Happy birthday," Tallulah said in farewell, before walking out the rickety door into the black night.

Isis's face slackened back into a neutral look as she tidied up, aware that she was being studied intently. When there was nothing else she could do to make the dirty room more presentable, she turned to study him back. Her eyes were the only part of her that betrayed her amusement at his visibly shocked expression.

"Who are you," she stated, not a question. This was her territory, dingy though it was. The location had been strategic for this meeting as she would not miss it too much if it had come to blows. That meant that whatever she had to do to defend herself wouldn't matter in the long run.

"I think the better question, darling, is who are you?" The being (because there was no way he was human, his skin too perfect and his eyes showing the weight of agelessness) said, tilting his head to the side like a puppy. He had a curious accent, Australian but not at the same time, like he had lived in too many places to settle on just one. He put his hands in his pockets, rocking back onto his heels once before starting an aimless meander around the stuffy room.

Isis knew what he was doing, trying to back her into a corner. She played along with his charade of casualness, moving to the opposite side of the room to seemingly peruse a small mason jar full of crushed herbs. "I believe I asked you first."

It may have been childish but it must've struck a nerve because he stopped. He pondered her silently for a moment before saying, with wonder in his voice, "You are either exceedingly brave or exceedingly stupid."

"I prefer to think of myself as being exceedingly blunt, to be honest," she replied flippantly, watching his reaction. His face twitched once before he burst out into full blown laughter. It went on for several seconds before two things happened in quick succession.

One, he suddenly appeared in front of her, his handsome visage replaced with a snarling mask of fury. His sclera had filled with blood and dark veins pulsed under his eyes while his canines had lengthened to sharp, wicked points.

Two, the jar of crushed vervain she'd taken from the shelf was tossed into his face, the lid having been discretely twisted off halfway through her revolution of the room. The fine dust was a cloud as it flew through the air, momentarily obscuring her view of him.

There was dead silence as the vervain drifted to the packed dirt floor, revealing a stunned looking vampire. The vervain had obviously not affected him as he would be writhing around in pain on the ground if it had. Isis and the mystery vampire warily eyed the other, not exactly knowing what to do after that anticlimactic confrontation. Isis settled it by going back to her chair and sitting down, staring at him until he took the hint.

He slowly walked over to a random chair at the table, giving it a curious look before reaching his hand out to rest on the back of it. Surprise flitted briefly across his face as he pulled it out, settling down into it like it was a throne rather than a cheap white patio chair. They stared at each other again, neither willing to back down. After what seemed like ages but was in reality only a minute or two, the vampire sighed and broke eye contact.

"My name is Kol," was all he said. He looked up, slightly surprised when she replied, "Isis. Isis Butler."

Babe, there's something lonesome about you, something so wholesome about you, get closer to me~

December 24th, 2013

Isis hummed along with the Christmas music on the radio, resolutely ignoring the bored vampire lounging on a barstool. It was somewhat vexing that he wouldn't leave her alone, but whatever magic was in play created some sort of boundary that he couldn't cross. Which just so happened to have her at it's epicenter, meaning that he couldn't get more than 50 feet away from her without hitting the edge.

"I'm boooooored," he moaned, leaning back on the stool and making a pathetic pouty face at her. Isis rolled her eyes, having heard the same thing 20 times in the last two hours. "Go watch a movie or something," she muttered, adding the eggs to the cookie mixture she was currently working on. She may celebrate Yule instead of Christmas, but that didn't mean her friends did. The party they were throwing tonight absolutely required her homemade cookies according to the hostess.

Isis let out a long, drawn out groan as she realized what that meant. Kol would be coming with her. It was fortunate that whatever spell was keeping him in the physical plane allowed him to interact with his surroundings or else there would be some very awkward questions.

It was odd, and certainly something Isis had never heard of before. Usually spectral entities couldn't physically affect things unless they tried really hard. Kol had explained it as feeling like he was surrounded by a bubble- he could kind of feel what he was doing, but mostly had to rely on sight to move things. Isis had tested this by throwing something at his head, only to get an affronted look in return as the book bounced off like a trampoline. She'd also, reluctantly, touched him. It had felt like pressing against an inflated balloon. He'd also had a complete lack of texture and heat, which was disconcerting as well.

She came back to reality when he said, "But I don't want to! I watched movies all last night and it's getting supremely boring."

"Go read a book then!" She snapped, instantly regretting it when his eyes lit up in unholy glee. Ever since she'd practically dragged him all the way back to her house (involuntarily of course), he'd been trying to convince her to let him read something out of her private library. She groaned again, this time in resignation as she remotely dismantled the wards around the room to allow him entrance. With a jerk of her head he took off at vampire speed, causing some bills to flutter to the ground. Isis stared at the pieces of paper, wondering just how the spell could be so selective on what he could and could not do.

He couldn't attack her, as he'd tried several times before giving up. His fangs just grazed her skin, never piercing. His fists felt like cotton balls and anytime he tried to push or throw an object it would just fall to the ground in front of him. However, he could still use his vampire speed and like just occurred could create wind. He could eat and drink, but he said that they were tasteless and not filling. He could read and write, as he had already started writing down thoughts that had occurred to him in the last 90 years or so. He could also choose who could see him and who couldn't, though Isis could always see him, which he'd had a perverse amount of fun with at the grocery store. Isis was sure those teenagers would never, ever recover.

It really was an odd piece of magic, one that she desperately wanted to study further. The vampire wouldn't let her, though, not knowing or trusting her. The fact that she wouldn't tell him anything about what she was was the icing on the cake for him. He'd have to figure that out himself, hence the obsession with her books.

Sighing in agitation she continued to make the cookies, only to be interrupted by an aggravated shout.

"Isis, move at least 4 feet to your left! I cannot reach the book I wish to read!" Isis just smirked, picking up the tray and moving in the opposite direction to the oven. A startled 'Ack!' rang out before irritated stomping sounded down the hall. When she turned around Kol was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Rolling her eyes, she just walked around him and into her office, picking out her own book to read while waiting for the cookies to be done. Kol picked up his chosen book and flopped down onto the chaise, flipping to the first page while Isis turned to her saved spot.

The properties of the moonstone are many and varied in alchemical solutions...

When the timer went off Isis was startled out of her deep concentration. Kol was still buried deeply in his book on potions of all things, his eyebrows furrowed as his eyes skimmed the pages quickly. Already he was almost halfway through the tome, which was very impressive as it was absolutely massive, one of the biggest ones in her collection.

Cracking her back and stretching her muscles, Isis surreptitiously eyed the vampire. He was still an arrogant asshole, but when concentrating like that he looked almost...cute. His nose was crinkled, eyes squinty and he muttered something to himself every once in a while under his breath. Shaking her head, she hurried out of the room, not wanting the cookies to burn.

Later that night-

Isis's smile was slightly strained as she tried to explain why her 'date' was wearing antiquated clothing for the fifth time. Her friend Alyssa, the host of the party, was a costume designer for some big name movies and had therefore exclaimed on it's authenticity, which had gotten everyone (at least the humans) on the topic.

As another guest came through the door Isis's instincts pinged again. Los Angeles was a hotbed for the supernatural, and how Alyssa had gone 2 years without noticing was somewhat of a miracle, considering she worked with at least 3 supernaturals on every movie she did. Alyssa excitedly tugged her arm towards the new arrival, who was immediately recognizable as Jennifer Lawrence, a werejaguar shifter of some prominence as her pack was one of the bigger ones in Kentucky.

As Isis shook the woman's hand, the customary recognition of another supernatural entity washed over them. Jennifer looked briefly surprised before smoothing out her features and smiling a more genial smile. Usually when introduced you could get a sense of where their alignment lay, so to speak. It could easily be masked, but generally no one bothered with that.

Isis saw the moment that Jennifer noticed Kol, who was lurking in the background, sullenly looking at his drink. She looked just as unnerved as every other supe that had encountered him. He was like a void, almost, no scent or aura and it freaked people out. It had amused him the first dozen times it had happened but now Isis could tell that he was just annoyed. She would be, too, if she thought a bunch of humans were snubbing her. Telling him that they weren't humans would just ruin her fun.

The party continued like this, Alyssa excitedly introducing her to some celebrity or other, talking briefly before they inevitably scurried away from the disconcerting anomaly. Kol tried several times to talk to someone but barely managed several sentences before they made their excuses. Isis could see him valiantly trying to appear unaffected but every time it happened he got more and more closed off.

Finally, after two and a half hours of that torture, Isis took pity on him and made her own excuses. Normally she would've stayed much longer, loving to meet new people and networking with them, creating more contacts in her world. Now, though, she could practically feel how depressed Kol was and it was just cruel to him to stay any longer. Perhaps she should've just explained... 'I'll tell him later,' she thought to herself, wanting to get out of the now-depressing party as quickly as possible.

The car ride home was quiet, Kol's face a picture of brooding silence as he watched the streets of LA go by out the window. The only sound was the soft jazz music playing, something that made him relax the longer the ride went. The familiarity of the melody took him back, to the last time he'd seen his siblings, to the last time he'd seen his home. When they finally made it back to her house, he went to reach for the door handle when Isis's voice stopped him.

"Are you alright?" Kol paused, momentarily caught off guard. When was the last time anyone had asked him if he was alright? It must've been millenia, right before his turning, the memory hazy and unfocused...

Mystic Falls, c. 972

Kol could only stare in a horrified kind of silence at the mangled body of his youngest brother. Little Henrik, not even a man, cradled in Nik's arms, flesh torn and running with rivers of blood, staining the tunic his older brother wore. He barely noticed as Mother pushed past him, agonized wails escaping her lips and she beheld what had become of her youngest son. There was a curious rushing sound in his ears as he stumbled back, barely acknowledging 'lijah and Bekah's appearance at Henrik's side, soon followed by Finn and Father rushing down the lane at Mother's screams.

He could feel himself turning away from the horrific scene, could feel himself start to run to the trees, to where his and Henrik's "secret" fort was. They had never been particularly close, Henrik preferring the company of Bekah and Nik while Kol himself preferred to study magic. He had to do it in secret, though, as Father thought it 'unmanly' to practice a woman's art, only barely tolerating Finn's tutelage as it was beneficial on raids. That was why he'd built the little hut in a thicket of briars, only accessible by a hidden tunnel through the brush.

Henrik had found it one day, initially frightening Kol as he thought the boy would tell Father that he was doing something forbidden. Instead, Henrik had promised to keep it a secret if he could watch Kol practice. They'd bonded over their secret, Henrik proclaiming that he would one day be a witch too when he was old enough to defend himself from Father. Kol had promised in return that he would teach him all he knew.

Now, though, Kol looked around the little room, only seeing signs of Henrik everywhere. The carved figurines of warriors that he'd brought to occupy himself when Kol was doing something boring, the little nest Kol had made after Henrik had woken up from too many naps cranky from the uncomfortable ground, the charcoal drawings Henrik had made of their family that Kol had propped up in the corner.

He heard a high keening noise, not recognizing it as his own, before he buried his head in his arms and cried. He cried for Henrik, for all the years he'd never see, for all the things he'd never do; cried for Mother, who loved all of her children dearly, even if she didn't show it in the face of Father's wrath; cried for Bekah, who had loved Henrik as fiercely as if he was her own son, who had stolen Father's bow and quiver to kill enough rabbits to make a warm blanket for him, not sorry even after the lashings she'd received; cried for Elijah, who would never again teach Henrik swordsmanship and ruffle his hair when he got a hit, and who would never again lose on purpose just to see the boy smile; cried for Finn, who even though as the oldest was distant to his youngest siblings had carved a child's bow for Henrik's 8th winter and even taught him how to use it, who had lifted Henrik onto his shoulders in celebration of his first kill.

He cried the hardest for Nik, who looked at Henrik like he was a lifeline, a shining light in the darkness of his existence. He cried for Nik, who would bare the blame in their Father's eyes for Henrik's death, who would shoulder this guilt for the rest of his life.

He cried for himself, who wasn't there to save Henrik, who should have given him the last sweet roll at dinner the night before, who should have done something more...

He cried, and he cried, and he cried until he could cry no longer. Then he slept.

When he awakened, night had already descended. A small fire was lit in the pit of the hut, and off to one side the young healer Maija kneeled, stirring what smelled like a stew in a small pot.

"Are you alright, Kol?" She asked, voice gentle and face kind. Kol was speechless; Maija had never really talked to him before, mostly talking with Mother and Bekah and Ayana about magic. Oh, she'd sensed him eavesdropping, always looking for tidbits of information about the art that was forbidden to him. Once she'd even passed him a cloth full of herbs and a scroll with their uses in magic on it with a sly smile, but for some reason she always seemed sad and wistful when she looked at him. He'd overheard Ayana telling Mother that she'd lost her family to the plague, which was why she'd come here with her aunt to the New World.

On top of that, Kol had fancied her since he'd realized that girls were not, in fact, gross. He'd once proclaimed to Bekah that he'd marry her one day, which she had told the rest of their siblings. After that, whenever Kol was in the same vicinity as Maija his brothers and sister would all make kissy faces at him behind her back. From her smile she'd obviously known or suspected, which made him burn with embarrassment all the more. So it was understandable that this interaction shocked him.

"I am sorry if I have intruded into your personal space, Kol," she said, misinterpreting his silence. Before he could answer, she continued, "However, it is after dark and the woods are dangerous. I noticed that you were not with your family so I came looking for you to make sure that you were not in danger." Kol shook himself a little, then shook his head again. "No, you are fine, Healer Maija. I thank you for your concern," he said, ducking his head to hide his tear stained cheeks and red eyes. He barely had enough energy to startle when a delicate finger lifted his chin up. Blue-green eyes, the color of the lake in summer peered down at him with a mixture of emotions, from sadness to guilt to wistful to anger and so many more that Kol could not decipher them all.

"You do not have to hide your grief, Kol. The loss of one that you love..." she trailed off, but instead of the glazed look he often saw Mother get when she thought of her eldest child, lost to plague, her gaze grew more intense, eyes tracing his features like she was imprinting the sight into her mind. "The loss of one that you love is a terrible feeling, one you should not hide from, for that will make it all the worse. That sadness will turn to anger, to hate, and those are not feelings that should rule your life. Do not be like your Father in these things. Cherish the memories you have and do not dwell on the past. It will get better, I promise you that."

She moved then, and Kol felt the loss of her touch like the removal of one of his own limbs. She shuffled in the small space back over to the pot, procuring two clay bowls and spoons from her bag before serving them both. Kol took a bite and felt a rush of warmth throughout his body, chasing away the chill of the night and abating the ache in his heart just slightly. A piece of fresh bread followed, and only then did Kol notice just how hungry he was. He wolfed down the meal, surprised when his spoon scraped along the empty bottom of the bowl. With a slight chuckle Maija served him the rest of the flavorful stew which he ate just as enthusiastically as the last. When that was gone, he looked sheepishly up at the pretty witch.

"Thank you, Healer Maija. I will find some way to repay you," he said, placing his fist over his heart and bowing his head. Again, Maija lifted his chin, but this time her face was solemn. "There is no need for that, Kol. I do this out of the gladness of my heart, and your happiness in life is the only payment I require." Kol could only nod dumbly as the woman brushed her hand lightly over his cheek before turning to pack up her supplies. "How about we make our way back to the village, hmm? Your mother is sure to notice your absence soon, and we do not want her to fret."

"Of course, Healer Maija," Kol replied dutifully, carefully covering the embers of the fire with dirt.

Maija walked him all the way back to his family's home where she hugged him lightly in farewell. When he entered his house, nobody noticed his presence, or even the fact that he'd been gone.

Two days after Henrik's death, Mikael found Kol and Henrik's hut and burned it to the ground, along with everything inside.

Four days after Henrik's death, Mother and Maija fought viciously after Maija refused to help her with something. All of the young healer's things were gone when Kol went to check, save for a strange gemstone that Kol kept and hid from everyone.

Seven days after Henrik's death, Kol's Father killed him and his siblings. When he woke up, he was a monster.

Kol shook himself back to the present. He looked over at Isis and was struck by the kindness in her eyes, where previously they'd only held annoyance or coldness towards him. He stared because he could swear that this girl's eyes were the same color as Maija's were. No, it was just that damnable memory playing tricks on his mind.

"I'm fine," he said stiffly, pulling the handle on the door and getting out, shutting it before she could call him out on his obvious lie. That stupid party was affecting him more than it should. A bunch of humans shouldn't remind him of his failed relationships with his siblings. Their snubs shouldn't bother him like the obvious dismissal his siblings gave him did.

Isis opened the door, face back in that steely mask she usually wore. She tossed her keys into the bowl on the hall table and hung up her jacket before gliding out of the room and up the stairs without another word to him. That was fine, it wasn't anything he wasn't used to.