Always and Forever

Dance Back From The Grave

Genevieve and Celeste stroll along the cemetery. "Oh, I remember this cemetery." Genevieve ponders for a moment, looking around. "Hmm. Hasn't changed a bit."

Celeste smiles and looks around as well. "I've been coming here over a century, wearing one face or another."

Lafayette Cemetery, 1919, Genevieve runs up to a woman kneeling down in front of a tomb, praying for her ancestors. "Clara Summerline, will you come on? We're going to miss everything!" She grabs her friends hand and pulls her towards a crowd of witches.

A group of them were playing the congo drums while another small group of witches danced around the flames of the bonfire.

A darker skinned witch walks out with an albino python around his shoulders. He looks around as he takes his python and hands it to his twin sons. He claps his hands to quiet down the crowd. "Witches of the French Quarter, thank you for your welcome." His thick accent speaks out. "It is good to be among people of the faith. I, too, practice ancestral magic, honoring those who walked the path before us. From them, we draw strength. And you will need strength, for a great darkness is coming. The city your forefathers left you is now overrun by pirates, beasts, and vampires." Papa Tunde takes the python from his sons and throws it into the fire. A loud roar and hiss is heard from the fire as the witches stare in fear. "I practice other magic, as well. Sacrificial magic, channeling power from lives of my offerings. I use this strength to vanquish my enemies, and I will punish your enemies for their greed. In return, you will accept my family into your coven, and me as your leader."

Soon, two men enter the room and join Elijah and a police officer. "Gentlemen, make yourselves at home. Mayor O'Connell appears to be running late, but there's much to discuss, so I shall begin."

Klaus walks downstairs and joins them. "One moment, please, brother. You know how much I enjoy these illicit, little gatherings."

Elijah looks towards the men, holding his hand up. "Do not be troubled. Despite my brother's reputation, I can assure you, we've invited you here to broker in peace. You have my word."

Klaus stops near the end of the table and folds his hands behind his back. "And, lucky for you, my brother always keeps his word. You two are from the Guerrera crime family, a brutish pack of thieves and killers. And that's nothing compared to what you become on a full moon, is it?"

"Yes, yes, yes. Of course, a bite from your kind is not lethal to an Original. Conflict between us would not end well for you at all. Let's state our proposal here. My brother and I control the ports of the city, but with prohibition soon to be the law of the land, there'll be a certain uptick in the kind of federal presence we prefer to avoid. Therefore, I'd like to suggest a system whereby, under our supervision, of course, the Guerrera family can traffic alcohol into the city of New Orleans for a profit. We would still be in charge, but our role would remain a secret."

Pape Tunde walks in with his sons behind him. "This all sounds very goof, but tell me, how will it benefit the witches?"

Elijah stands up and stands next to his brother. "I am sorry. This is a private meeting."

"Yes, for kings of the city, but I, too, am a king, and I have rules." Papa Tunde stops at the other end of the table.

Klaus smirks, looking at Elijah. "I'm impressed. You're either quite ambitious or quite mad. What's your name, mate?"

"I am Alphonse Bellatunde Delgado, Papa Tunde to my followers, and I come to ask that the witches be granted fair tribute for allowing your existence in our city."

Elijah looks at this man, with an amused look on his face. "Are you suggesting that you speak for the French Quarter witches?"

"I do now, and I expect our future negotiations to go very smoothly. As a guarantee, I brought a gift. I await our next gathering."