Author's note: This chapter is coming right on the heels of the previous one!
Thank you for being utterly delightful. :D
Damon and Elena stared at the raven sitting on the hood of the car, whose figure became increasingly clear in the tempest that raged all around them. It stared at him curiously, its head cocked to the side in an almost familiar way. Behind it, a tree caught fire when lighting struck its aged bark. It cast an ethereal glow over the bird for several whole minutes before the storm seemingly put it out.
In the backseat, Crow and Emma cawed in a way that seemed almost like recognition to their respective humanoids.
Almost as if in a trance, Damon stepped out of the car to approach the mysterious avian, nodding his head once before the bird flew into the back of the Camaro to join its new companions.
As Elena and Damon drove away wordlessly, the same tree flickered in the distance – a portion of the flame evidently holding form even in the fierce rain all around it.
"So, Miss Mysterious," Caroline huffed petulantly. "Mind telling me why you're gathering ingredients for a locator spell?
"I'll tell you when Elena and Damon get here," Bonnie replied patiently, evidently distracted by arranging everything just so. She let the organization of the spell take her away for a few minutes, before giving Caroline her attention again. "I need something of Stefan's – something personal."
"We're looking for Stefan?" Caroline asked, suddenly ashen with concern. "Why are we looking for Stefan? Did something happen?"
Bonnie looked at her for several long moments, as though trying to make a decision, but Katherine beat her to it – clearly not in the mood to wait for the remainder of their party to begin the search.
"You remember how Stefan was supposed to drop Silas in the quarry right before he went on his 'soul-searching road trip'"? Katherine queried, using a dry tone and air quotes to hide her immense fear – a tactic which was only moderately successful.
"Yeah…" Caroline trailed off, her heartbeat and anxiety increasing by the second.
"Well, clearly he didn't, because Silas is running around wearing Stefan's face," Katherine spat the offending name is through it were poison, because to her it might as well be. She neglected to mention the matter of her death and transformation into being a poltergeist at the moment – saving Stefan was of utmost priority, and she wouldn't allow anyone to get distracted.
Dr. Wes Maxfield groaned as he injected himself with another dose of his serum, already feeling the effects after mere moments. His resting heart rate slowed down to nearly 30 beats per minute – like that of an elite athlete – signaling the immediate strengthening of his heart muscle. In fact, all the muscles and joints and organs in his body almost sang with life and utmost vitality.
He felt superhuman.
Exhaling an unnecessarily shaky breath – one born considerably more of exhilaration than anxiety – Wes peered about the room hungrily, as always looking for an outlet for his newfound, albeit temporary, strength.
He almost laughed at the irony – in injecting himself with a serum based on heart tissue of the undead, he was suddenly teeming with life.
They needed more vampires, and they needed them fast.
"How is the acquisition of additional subjects progressing, Nathaniel?" Wes asked, as he entered the adjoining room, where his graduate student was busy analyzing the patients' blood samples.
"It looks like there hasn't been a visit to Whitmore Medical Center since Wednesday night, and we're now into Friday – so unless someone got a very large dose, we may be hard-pressed to find a candidate tonight," Nathaniel grimaced. "I'll keep looking, though. I convinced Dr. Sloane to give everyone who was in the ICU over the last few nights an emergency blood test, so we might get lucky."
"Good work," Wes replied, doing his best to mask the disappointment in his tone at the news. He was hoping that their mysterious vigilante would save them some legwork in acquiring new vampires, but he wouldn't let this small matter deter him. If Nathaniel was unable to find any hospital patients with still-lingering vampire blood in their systems, he'd simply have to take some of their annoyingly regulated supply and create some of his own.
Sometimes it was easier to ask forgiveness than permission, Wes reasoned – not that he planned to apologize to that incompetent oaf who barely had the qualifications to be called 'Doctor,' let alone 'Chief of Medicine' of the esteemed Whitmore Medical Center, Anthony Sloane.
Wes had the perfect plan in mind. Tonight was Whitmore University's annual 'So Long to Summer' bash. All he had to do was spike the drinks with vampire blood, and he had a whole section of the student body at his disposal for experimentation.
As they drove, Elena couldn't help but notice that Damon was unusually quiet, and almost pensive – though oddly reactive. While she and Damon weren't strangers to a comfortable silence, she noticed that her boyfriend loved to still emboss the lulls in topic with witticisms, or the occasional affectionate gesture, like taking her hand to leave slow, sensual kisses on its knuckles as he drove.
To call him disengaged would be a falsehood, too – he seemed almost hyper-focused – as though he was having an intense conversation.
"Damon?" she queried, her curiosity and concern piquing.
He didn't respond for several long seconds, before a bright grin graced Elena's favorite face in all the world, and he pulled the vehicle over onto the side of the road. By now, the rain had abated, and the Sun was out in all its glory. He stepped out, blurring onto her side to open her door with almost exaggerated grace, followed by a wink – prompting a giggle from his increasingly confused yet nonetheless tickled girlfriend.
She took his offered hand to step out of the car, with the three corvids immediately following, settling on their respective humanoids' shoulders.
"Elena, meet Praxis and Poiesis," Damon smirked, pointing to his crow and raven, respectively.
The grass was still heavy with Petrichor – that wondrously rich and refreshing smell in the air that lingered after a hard rain – rich with geosmin and revival. In the meadow's distance, a vivid rainbow to its place, photons scattering all about to create a glorious light show all about them.
Elena wanted to tease him about the names – wondering if they were prompted by their earlier conversation – but something about the moment felt so serenely right that she just stood on her tiptoes to gingerly cup his jaw, tracing her fingertips along his cheeks as she watched the clouds behind him disperse to reveal a bright-blue sky that paled in comparison to her favorite eyes in all the cosmos, and drew him in for a kiss.
Two hours later, they finally parked the Camaro outside of the Boarding House, and the familiars couldn't be more overjoyed – evidently unused to spending such extensive time trapped in a small space – free birds by nature.
"Praxis and Poiesis?" Elena finally teased, feeling less self-conscious about it now that all three corvids flew away in search of prey.
"I was inspired," Damon shrugged carelessly. "I half-considered Brannigan and Blondie, but then they'd never shut up."
Elena smacked his arm half-heartedly, desperately fighting a grin.
"No, the names fit," he continued, suddenly more serious. "The raven's nature is captured by 'Poesis,' since he's calmer – more introverted. He thinks, creates, deliberates. The crow, 'Praxis,' is more of a doer – very aggressive and action-oriented."
"So, one thinks and the other does?" Elena smirked.
"Exactly! One's going to think of the plan, and the other's going to carry it out, leaving me to do my most important work – introduce Mystic Falls to some actual charm," he grinned.
"Oh no!" Elena gasped in mock horror, then chose to elaborate when Damon raised an eyebrow. "I'm just thinking of the Grill's poor, dwindling bourbon supply."
"Oh, good. You're here," Caroline deadpanned, looking every bit like she'd run out of patience hours ago. Behind her were a distinctly uncomfortable-looking Katherine, an awkwardly-petrified Jeremy, and a very contrite-appearing Bonnie. "That means we can begin."
But Damon didn't really pay attention to her words or the parlor's remaining occupants – instead, his attention was immediately drawn to his wet cart, his eyes immediately widening in rage and horror. "What the hell happened to my bourbon supply?"
I very well can't call vampires "humans," but "humanoids" certainly works!
The fire symbolism behind Poesis is a nod to Damon being a Fire Witch in some of my other stories (Serendipity, and sort of Timey Wimey).
Soooo, what does everyone think of Praxis and Poesis as the names for Damon's corvids? Giving them those names is a nod to the role Nicomachean Ethics is going to play in the story. Really milking that one line in S5 about Elena being enrolled in a Philosophy class. :D
I decided to split this chapter into two, with the next one focusing on that very important conversation this group needs to have – about all the things that have been happening! :D
Thank you, absolutely lovely souls, for being so awesome. Much love, all! :D