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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐎𝐍𝐄 — the dislodged stick
━━━━━━━
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 Elijah had hosted, despite its rather placid start, had ended just as Ophelia had thought; with a fight.
The siphon and the noble original had stowed themselves away in his office, swaying to music that wasn't suited for a slow dance, but they continued, chest to chest, nonetheless. That is until a commotion had been heard.
It seemed that Oliver and Diego had gotten rather... boisterous with one another; not entirely surprising as the pair were untamable little beasts. Of course, Elijah interrupted with a threat to which Hayley did not take lightly. The wolf with the swollen tum had practically stormed down the stairs of the compound, words of wisdom on her lips as she listed the dastardly deeds of each faction; pointing out that the only one in the room who hadn't even shown her face to the crowd, the one who wanted to aid Elijah's quest to peace had locked herself away.
The wolf shouted and scolded each faction as though they were mere children, telling them that each of them had committed atrocities, and none of them were exempt from the consequences. Ophelia had joined her side, looking rather out of place amidst the dresses and suits that everybody adorned. But that didn't stop the siphon from speaking her own words,
"All of you, each faction despises me, whether for things I've done or simply because of what I am. I didn't attend this 'party' because of that, Elijah wants peace and my presence disrupts that. But clearly the animosity between the rest of you is a far larger obstacle. You all say you want to protect your people, and yet here you are, starting fights and putting your own people in danger. If that's the case, kill each other. Do it now and save the rest of us the energy of waiting for you all to get over yourselves. Either kill each other or put some effort into creating a community, because if you don't, New Orleans will forever be at war, and your people, your families will never be safe."
Hayley had stood by the siphons side, the pair of them holding their heads high as humans, witches, vampires, and wolves stared and finally digested their words.
The night had ended far better than the party; the leaders of the factions; Hayley, Diego, Genevieve, and Francesca, as well as Ophelia and Elijah, had all come together with slices upon their hands, their blood mixing in an inkwell before each of them signed their names on Elijah's treaty.
Solidifying their promise for peace in New Orleans.