you can remember || invitis

Elijah broke into the Salvatore Boarding House. Well, if you wanted to call turning the door knob and casually strolling in, breaking in. He wasn’t exactly invited - but then, no one alive actually lived here. He walked casually up the stairs, not stopping for a second - he knew exactly where his target was. He got up to Damon’s bedroom and opened the door, then stepped inside. His eyes moved around the room, it was different than he’d imagined. It was far more open, far too… light. He only gave it a moments notice. He walked over silently, then sat down on the edge of the bed - his eyes focused on Damon.

He reached out and grabbed him by the mouth, to keep him quiet, Elena sleeping peacefully next to him. To which, Elijah could only assume they had that steamy love affair going, and he wanted to hurl… Elena right out the window and snap her neck. However, he refrained. When Damon reacted to the touch, Elijah put a finger to his lips then looked over at Elena. Damon nodded just slightly, then Elijah leaned forward, over him.

“And you remember.” He whispered, before he got up and was gone, near instantly.

Bourbon Street

Elijah was in need of a break. Between Marcel, the nightwalkers, and his family, he had indeed been driven to drink. It wasn’t often he frequented the many bars around the Quarter, but tonight seemed like a night he could slip away unnoticed. His footsteps echo on the aged stone walls as he approaches the bar. The bar is small and discrete, one that the locals frequent and one Elijah hoped would be peaceful. He takes one final breath of the cold night air and pushes open the swinging door, his eyes automatically scanning the club to assess the atmosphere. Deciding that the dimly lit club was just what the occasion was calling for, he makes his way swiftly to the bar. “Bourbon please, and do leave the bottle.” He says to the bartender without pause. He glares at the surly bartender for a moment, before he hears a familiar voice ring out above the babble. He turns his head without thanking the bartender, looking for the source. Ah. Damon Salvatore, unmistakable even in this low light. He reaches out to grab the glass that had appeared in front of him, not taking his eyes off the old acquaintance. Making a split second decision, he slides off the barstool he had been leaning against and makes his way over to where Damon was standing. Walking up behind him, he pauses a few feet from him. “Well, well. What could possibly bring a Salvatore to the Big Easy?”

silent killer || invitis

Elijah slammed the ax down from over his head through the wood. He repeated the motion, raising his arms up and slamming the ax down after another slave put another piece of wood up. He chopped and split the wood, without so much as breaking a sweat. And he worked all morning. His entire focus was on the wood, his brown eyes following the ax as it came down from over his head and slammed through the pieces of wood, splintering them in all directions. It was when the sun was high in the sky, during the warm afternoon where he stripped of his leather shirt, setting it to the side and went back to work.

The ax came down and slammed into the piece of wood, and he repeated. He knew he was being watched, but couldn’t be bothered to pay attention. Kwame set another piece of wood down, “Jihadharini!” Kwame yelled as soon as the ax had hit the wood, splinters hit Elijah’s body. His body became cut up. He looked down and pulled splinters from his body, having dropped the ax into the dirt. He stepped backwards and pulled larger splinters from his chest and down, the wounds healed - all the slaves knew what Elijah was, they’d talked about it already, and they also accepted that he would protect all of them at all costs. He would let no harm come to them.

Elijah brushed the blood off his body. “Je, wewe ni sawa?” Kwame had run up to Elijah’s side, Elijah smiled down at the boy and nodded. “Mimi ni mwembamba.” He replied. They’d taught him their language relatively fast. Which was good, considering he needed some way to talk to them. He turned his head and looked at Damon, then quickly picked up the ax off the ground and went back to work.

She's Having A Baby {Datherine}

She had felt them, they were small at first, little twinges of pain in her stomach. At first she thought it was those false labor pains Damon had informed her about. He had forewarned her so she didn’t freak out if and when it happened. But the more she ignored the pain, the more intense it got. Mumbling a few curse words under her breath, Katherine sat up on the edge of the bed one hand over her swollen belly, the other having a death grip on their perfectly white sheets.

It had felt like at least twenty minutes since she texted Damon, but in reality it was probably more like twenty seconds. Katherine was already impatient by nature, add a human inside of her, and  sharp jolts of pain, of which she couldn’t inflict any pain back..and yeah she was getting cranky.

Deep breaths Katherine, she reminded herself. Although she had technically been in labor before, had a baby before. It felt like another lifetime ago, in fact it was another lifetime ago. A time she chose not to remember, until she was forced in moments just like this one.

“Damon!” she yelled, wanting him to know that he was taking too long for her liking, and she was starting to panic. But she would never admit that part. Rubbing her stomach in small circles she tried to calm herself, and the baby down.

“I know. You want out, I don’t blame you, just a little longer.” she explained as if the baby could hear her.