✰

@CrownedInBlood- 
            
            Elijah finishes wiping the blood off the corner of his mouth, placing his handkerchief back in his suit pocket. He dresses shoes crunching against the gravel, seeing the crimson blood all over the tombstones. "Ah, Marcel." Elijah says, his name coming out like venom. "The boy who used to look up at you, now seeks to destroy you. How /poetic/." Elijah adds. "I wonder, how many witches did you pissed off?"
            
            Elijah sees the crimson blood all over his shirt, classic Klaus, always has to make things messy and yet, every time, Elijah comes to clean up his damn messes. "Now I have to clean this mess before Rebekah decides to lecture you, again." Elijah says as he drags two bodies and throws them into a crypt before walking to grab another two, the crypt should hold four dead bodies, maybe five.
            
            The gravel would make his dress shoes dirty, and Elijah is irritated by the fact of it. "You're lucky Kol isn't here, he'd make things worse." Elijah points out as the moons reflecting reflects off his eyes. The shadows of the headstones, stretched out on the ground. "So, you sent one back? Eh? How bold of you." Elijah states as he grabs two more dead bodies and throws them into another crypt.

♘【 @nobleelite 】♘
            
            Klaus doesn’t turn immediately at the sound of Elijah’s voice. He stands near one of the crypts, hands stained crimson, gaze fixed on the moonlight spilling across the cemetery stones like silver poured over bone. A faint smile tugs at his mouth at the word /childish./
            
            “There he is,” Klaus murmurs. “My noble brother, forever arriving just in time to judge the aftermath” only then does he glance back over his shoulder, blue eyes flicking briefly to the fresh corpse Elijah lets fall at his feet. The smile widens—sharp, amused “and yet you so eagerly join in.”
            
            He steps forward slowly, boots crunching against gravel and shattered stone alike. There’s blood spattered across the collar of his shirt, though he wears it like decoration rather than mess “you ask why here?” Klaus repeats, looking around the cemetery with mock consideration. “Oh, Elijah… do try to appreciate the poetry of it all” his arms spread slightly toward the sea of graves “a city of the dead. A monument to decay. It seemed fitting.”
            
            “These men were under Marcel’s employ. They thought themselves brave enough to send a message.” Klaus tilts his head. “So I sent one back “he pauses beside Elijah now, shoulder nearly brushing his “and as for enemies…” a quiet chuckle leaves him. “Brother, after a thousand years, I’ve found they accumulate regardless of effort.”
            
            His gaze drifts toward the newest body Elijah drained “though I must admit,” Klaus says softly, “it is reassuring to know that beneath all that tailored civility and tedious honor… you’re still capable of brutality.”

@CrownedInBlood- 
            
            (( Something soft or perhaps a reply to the thread would be lovely!

@pureofsins 
            
            (( It's okay I also fell asleep! I'm very excited to rp them

@pureofsins 
            
            ;// his ships are open for anyone , I’m not fussy , so we could definitely work towards something!!
            
            Oooh !! I’m very excited to see their relationship grow if they’re Hades and Persephone coded!! 
            
            ( and I’ll make sure reply to our thread when I wake up as I’m very sleepy <3 )

@CrownedInBlood- 
            
            (( Please!! Reunion would be fantastic 

(( I'm so sorry for the late reply!

@BorrowedBreath- 
            
            Every noise didn't seem to phase the woman as she glanced towards the back of the apartment. Her eyes went towards Silas as her head slowly tilts to the side. 
            
            It was almost unnerving, in a strange cryptid way. "I wouldn't say...I'm lost, I would say I'm curious. I've never seen a place with so much activity and yet..."
            
            Her voice trailed when she heard the last statement. She cleared her throat. "Honestly, it should scare me but it doesn't. Being dead once kind of desensitizes you to whispers and ghosts."

☽【 @pureofsins 】☽
            
            Silas had long since stopped reacting when strangers found their way to his door. That was usually how his problems began. A missing person. A ghost. A curse. Someone desperate enough to ignore common sense and knock anyway. Tonight, however he hadn’t heard knocking. He had simply felt someone alive step into a building that rarely welcomed the living.
            
            From inside his apartment, the lights flickered once. Then twice. A glass somewhere in the kitchen cracked. Silas sighed from where he sat cross-legged on his living room floor, surrounded by open books, scattered papers, and a radio humming low static despite not being plugged in.
            
            “…That can’t be good” the unfamiliar voice drifted through the hallway, causing him to pause.
            
            Do you…live alone?
            
            For a moment, silence. Then a muffled thud from inside his apartment. Followed by what sounded suspiciously like someone—or something—hissing. Silas pinched the bridge of his nose.
            
            “Absolutely not,” he called back dryly. “And if you’re selling something, I should warn you that the ghosts are significantly less polite than I am”another loud bang echoed from deeper inside the apartment. He grimaced.
            
            “…Ignore that” after a moment, the locks clicked open on their own before the door slowly creaked inward. Silas stood in the doorway wearing a dark sweater with the sleeves rolled to his forearms, his hair a complete mess as if he’d been repeatedly dragging his hands through it. There was a faint bruise along his jaw and what looked suspiciously like dried blood near his knuckles.
            
            His expression softened slightly when he saw her. Not a hunter. Not a priest. Not someone immediately trying to kill him. That was refreshing “…are you lost?” he murmured, leaning against the frame. His gaze flickered past her shoulder toward the dim hallway before returning to her face.
            
            “And before you answer—if you hear whispering behind you, don’t turn around.” A beat passed. “They like attention.”