Alma was ecstatic.

It had been just another day watching the people of New Orleans pass her by. It was a common occurrence as no one else could actually see her. Luckily, watching was her favorite pastime. The entire city and its occupants captivated Alma. It was as if she were watching a never ending movie (if she could eat popcorn, she would).

Sometimes, however, whenever she would grow lonely, she'd step into somebody's line of sight. Just a smile in her direction could act as a balm to her loneliness. Sometimes, she'd even go as far as holding a conversation. Though, friendships would never last. The dead and the living never really had much in common. They would grow and move on while she would always stay the same.

Perhaps she had just learned to enjoy the solitude. It was never boring, especially in a city like New Orleans, but sometimes the days just would merge together. Once a person grows so old, it was unavoidable. One particular day, however, turned out to be very eventful.

It was the day that he Mikaelson family rolled back in town.

She heard it from frightened whispers in the streets. All the others were nervous. They had a thing going and the Original family arriving would only shake it up. The chain of command would be threatened. Because the Mikaelsons were the most powerful vampires that ever existed; they were the first of their kind. And wherever they settled, chaos was soon to follow.

Alma didn't feel quite the same as the others around her. For most of her existence, dead or alive, she wondered what the renown Mikaelsons were really like. Oh, she'd heard the stories. Most of them centered around Klaus (the bloodthirsty psychopath) or Elijah (the trust worthy nobleman).

'Elijah may be noble but he's just as dangerous,' she had once been warned. 'Just stay away from all of them. Just don't interfere.'

Now, decades later, she finally had her chance to get the first hand experience that she had been craving. To hell with all the warnings. What did she have to fear anyways? She was already dead.

It wasn't hard finding them. First, she sought out Marcel, the current leader of the city's vampire community. Ever since his rise to power in the twenties, Alma had been keeping tabs on him. He proved to be very interesting from early on. It was enjoyable to watch him grow into a leader, a ruler. And because he was such a great ruler, she knew he would have to be involved with the Mikaelsons. Marcel would never let somebody wander onto his turf without a warm welcome and a warning.

Alma knew Marcel all too well. Not long after quietly sitting with him without his knowledge, she finally got an eyeful of Klaus Mikaelson. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him (she didn't need to breathe but old habits die hard).

He walked in with an air of confidence, with his head held high and shoulders pushed back. The man looked so regal. Every head turned to look at him when he entered the room; he was impossible to ignore.

"He's hot," Alma murmured as her eyes followed his movements. There was still surprise at seeing such a godlike figure in the flesh, at seeing how handsome a 1000 year old man still was. He was a brute, a killer. He was supposed to be an ugly monster inside and out. How could such an ugly person have such a beautiful face? It simply wasn't fair.

For starters, she wasn't exactly sure how he could appear so masculine yet delicate at the same time. The blonde curls atop his head much resembled the hair of a babydoll she had played with as a child. His baby blue eyes and cherub lips certainly didn't add to the sinister mood that enveloped the small bar as he walked it. No, it was the firm set of his jaw that set people on edge, the furrow in his brow. It was the power in his form, in the way he walked that was so intimidating.

Baby faced or not, Klaus Mikaelson was not a man to be messed with.

While everyone else cowered, Alma squealed as she reclined on the bar. There were definite perks to being invisible, like weirdly gawking at strangers without being judged by witnesses.

Perching her head on her hand, she leaned in towards the notorious vampire and observed the way his eyes flitted as he looked around him. His instincts must have told him that something wasn't quite right, that he was being observed. With a shake of his head, he threw back a drink, surely thinking to himself that he must be paranoid.

'I wonder how long Marcel has before his position is uprooted by this one,' Alma thought idly. Klaus certainly didn't look like one to follow orders.

His grip tightened on his glass, and with a tilt of his head, he looked directly at her. Alma instinctually froze. Until she realized he wasn't looking at her. No, he was looking through her. Relaxing with the realization, she reflected on the sudden thrilling reaction she had to thinking he had seen her. There was no way she could just leave this one alone. Already, she was hooked by the appeal of an original.

Covering her growing grin with the palm of her hand, she fell back on the bar as she began to plan her next move.