𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐎, ⁿ. ᵐⁱᵏᵃᵉˡˢᵒⁿ ⁽²⁾ [DISCONTINUED]

𝖎𝖛. 𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖛𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖐𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌

|𝐢𝐯. 𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐤𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠|

𝐊ol, while possessing Kaleb Westphall's body, strolled down the streets of the French Quarter with a smirk plastered upon his features. He spotted a pretty girl in a sundress walking down the opposite street while she was talking on her phone. He used the warlock's magic to create a wind gust that blew her skirt up, much to her embarrassment and his enjoyment.

After the boy crossed the street, he was quick to snatch an apple from the fruit stand of a nearby vendor. The old man who owned the stand was about to protest when the mischievous Mikaelson knocked all the apples onto the ground with a flick of his wrist, and he continued walking as if nothing had happened.

"I saw you," a feminine voice dragged out dramatically from behind his back. Less than the span of a heartbeat later, the juicy red apple he stole disappeared from his hand into thin air.

The boy turned around quickly, although he was still getting used to the whole slow-human-reflexes thing as he beheld the heretic leaning on a nearby lamppost with a roguish grin tugging up the corners of her lips. Eating his apple.

"Nathalie Bennett." Kol drawled just as dramatically as the girl did, to which she responded with a muffled 'The one and only'. "I was wondering when we will cross paths again, darling."

Nathalie quirked an eyebrow at the warlock, munching on the fruit she stole from him moments prior as confusion remained etched on her features. "The question is: who in hell are you?"

The Mikaelson put his hand over his chest in mock hurt as he looked the heretic up and down. "You wound me, little Bennett. Is it possible that my own partner in crime has forgotten me so quickly? You know, the word in the supernatural world travels fast, especially when it concerns a certain heretic on the loose in the thriving city of New Orleans."

The brown skinned woman stared at the boy's unknown features with a sense of recognition shining brightly in her eyes. It couldn't be possible, could it? But the tone he used as he spoke, the way his words rolled off his tongue with such ease. "Kol?"

The wild Mikaelson clapped his hands at her revealment of the truth and flashed her a grin. "I knew there was a brain beneath that pretty head of yours. But pray tell, did you grow bored of my brother, or did the bastard inevitably betray you?"

Waving him off with a scar-flecked hand, Nathalie playfully rolled her eyes at the boy yet she did not lean one way or the other. She then furrowed her brows, the gears in her mind turning. No one had bothered to inform the girl of the Original's timely death at the hands of Jeremy Gilbert not that long after she'd been banished into the Prison World.

"By the look on your face," Kol toyed with the zip of his jacket and peered over his shoulder in a rather paranoid manner, "I shall assume brother dearest told you nothing. Not that this is such a surprise to me. Nik has always loved to scheme by himself."