MOD LOG #3

[bequiet]

MOD LOG #3

Arriving in style
Content Warnings: Fighting, death, violence
Themes: Survival, plot

It's early in the day when it happens. The red dust that seems to be everywhere sweeps through the city streets, mixing with the steady patter of rain and making it hard to see and breathe. All red and leaving the taste of copper if inhaled, what could have been an easy day without any trouble quickly becomes anything but. While those in the community are heading for cover or finding ways to continue on through it, the new arrivals begin waking up in different cities all over the world. There won't be anyone to greet them, and leaving the room through the door is their choice - after doing so, they'll immediately step out into the city they were assigned. The streets are empty, houses abandoned, everything crumbling and in ruins. There will be signs noting their location, which they'll catch a glimpse of before a sharp push forward causes darkness to engulf them.

Waking up for the second time, in Reims but not in the Reset Room, they'll come to inside the red dust as it whips through the streets of the community. They won't be alone for long. Another person will be waking up beside them, and after a few moments of disorientation, try to attack. They might have weapons or use their hands, and they will not stop until they've taken a fatal blow. Their blood is dust, and they, along with their weapons, disintegrate after they've died. Can you stop them on your own? Will someone come to your aid?

The Sight of Lightning
Content Warnings: Poison, sex
Themes: Survival, plot

The day after the storm, the same red dust will find its way through Reims and come into contact with every person. Since the dust is everywhere, some might not notice that it's floating through the community and know that something is off. The effects don't begin until night fall, where everyone will feel the desire to seek out companionship of many different kinds. Though it is not always the case, the people that saw each other in color will "want" to be with that person more strongly than they might already, and will be more likely to confess or do something about it. Some might feel an intense need to be around another person, though not necessarily sexually - almost as if they need that person around them to be happy or content. For some, it might be a desire that can only be fulfilled by more than one person.

The effects wear off the next time the person gets wet. This can be a splash of water across the face or fully submerged. Or even drinking something.

OOC
From your mods:

Please be mindful of content - if something triggery comes up or if it goes up a rating to say, something sexy, mark your threads in the subject line. We're very flexible and allow any material; we just want our players to be respectful of each other. If you have questions, pp the mod account, use the faq or comment to the appropriate post below. Have fun! The OOC Plotting Post.

NAVIGATION

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Comments

[persevere]

[It's getting late, or at least it feels like it. Time drags when there isn't as much to do, when the adrenaline of the day before has worn off and you're left with nothing from home and none of the things you use to distract yourself.

She's sitting on the edge of her bed, one not nearly as comfortable as the one she's left behind, the one she couldn't even get back to at home. This city is just another barrier between her and her home, and the only thing that feels like something she knows is, well...

...him.

She hears him in the doorframe before she looks over, her device picking up his message. It's only then that she finally meets his gaze, a strange calm washing over her as she acknowledges his presence. Her lips press together, her teeth press gently into her bottom lip, and then she's checking what he's sent.

She huffs a breath of laughter at the message, so simple in its delivery, so lacking in demands, and she relents. She gestures for him to come in, not bothering to tell him where to sit. Unconsciously, she's hoping it's close.]

[poppycock]

( he's glad of it, from everything to the uncertain welcome of her gaze to the considering worrying of her lips. from her soft laugh to her invitation. it's novel, perhaps, in the long line of their history, but it is not unnatural. he hasn't seen her in nearly a decade —and still that space between them feels as large as ever, but less insurmountable. (they've had their lives. they are different and the same.

it is the same, that string still pulling him to her.)

his lips pull into a soft smile, the brightness in his eyes as unabated at the clench of delighted nerves in his gut. curious, he can't help but look about at the spartan furnishings and decorations she's acquired, before moving to sit next to her.

his thigh brushes hers; he's not quite sure if he meant to do it. he leaves his phone on his knee. )

[persevere]

[It hasn't been a decade, not for her, but nine months in her lifetime might as well be ten years. Enough had certainly happened in that time, and he'd kept his promise to stay away and to let her live her life.

Some life that had turned into.

Him being here with her? He didn't have any control over that. And she'd be lying if she said that, in this moment, she wasn't really happy she wasn't alone.

Without thinking about it, her shoulders relax, and she leans her head sideways to gently settle on his shoulder. She sighs gently, almost sadly, and whispers so softly that had he been human, he still wouldn't have heard her even this close.]

This place sucks.

[poppycock]

( where caroline relaxes, klaus tenses: suddenly, infinitesimally, at the weight of her head resting comfortably on his shoulder. he stills, pulling in a soft breath as he peers over the crown of her golden hair, uncertain on how to understand or process the casual intimacy. the familiarity. (he can detail things about even she does not see; he has mapped every inch of her body, and yet —

they've never been this.

he blinks. he wants this.

he wants her trust, given with simple ease.)

he holds the breath in his lungs, lets it out slow, as if any other small stiffening or movement will discourage her.

it takes him a moment to realize she's spoken. ) I know, ( he murmurs, and with sudden impulse, lets his hand slide over her thigh, gentle and firm. he shifts towards her, his lips touched by wisps of her hair. ) It will be all right. ( he feels the choke of doubt in his voice, but he means it. he intends to make it so. not only for her — for his daughter. )

[persevere]

[There are certain things she trusts when it comes to Klaus Mikaelson. She trusts that he'll generally go with whatever option suits his best interests. She trusts that he'll be vicious and merciless to anyone who crosses him.

For some reason, somewhere along the line, she also began to trust the things he's said to her. And while he doesn't particularly care for the other people she loves, he does care about her. Loved her, even. She wonders if that part is still true.

Regardless, she trusts pieces of him, and the parts that she doesn't? They don't matter so much right now where all her loved ones are missing.

So when he tells her that everything will be all right, she wants to believe it. She knows he'll try to make it so. That doesn't change the fact that she doubts so much right now, about herself, about home, about all of this.]

I sure hope so.

[She sighs, knowing she shouldn't speak aloud more than she already has. Her head doesn't move, she simply reaches for her device, and starts to type again, looking at the screen sideways.]

Even when we get home, nothing is all right. No one's probably even looking for me.

[poppycock]

( his head leans towards her. his thumb draws short, back-and-forth lines of comfort, of reassurance, against the purchase beneath it. he cannot afford to hope, only to do, and so he watches the path of his caress and listens to the belief in her soft voice as an awed reminder: this is what he fights for, what matters.

his hand stills as she sighs and reaches for her phone; he watches her type the words with no small amount of doubt. of course, he wouldn't put it past the large majority of mystic falls to underestimate caroline in some way (in his opinion they never did appreciate her as they ought, but he is admittedly biased, with somewhat tall expectations) but neither can he believe the imposed self-deprecation of her claim. he can believe she feels it. however —

she has children of her own. she has a school. she has people who will miss her.

klaus considers the text, glances down at her forehead, and then extracts her phone from her hand to type: ) Why wouldn't they be looking for you?

[persevere]

[This is maybe the first time ever she wishes he just knew what she'd been up to, that he'd figured out some way to stalk her some more or whatever. Then she wouldn't have to explain why her life was such a mess.

She types quickly, making more errors and having to fix them than she'd like, but eventually she gets it all out there.]

Bonnie and Damon are dead. Elena's a drug addict. Stefan won't return my phone calls. And my Mom...she wouldn't even know to look for me right away, let alone know where to start.

[poppycock]

( he absolutely has. his desire to keep tabs on any potential enemies, friends, or lovers has not lessened with time; on the contrary. he's wanted to know what paths she has taken in life, as if those precious few details could be taken into his heart and kept, leveraged, shared. it is all he has had of her, and each bite fed him.

but perhaps he has missed reports in the obvious immediacy of his own life. of course, there's plenty chance he has missed something. it's never truly the full story, after all.

his eyes follow the words she types and erases. as they form, a dread starts and curdles in his gut, for he suspects. he suspects and then he knows, at the mention of her mother. this is... this is not the caroline from his time. a handful of months, he calculates in stricken realization. barely any, since...

right before his daughter was born.

he is quiet. not because he doubts what he should do, but because the alternative — the truth — seems inevitable. for one, it will eventually be obvious he is from their future. for another, people have left and come back; he knows this. (he wants to tell her: bonnie and damon are not dead. perhaps he'd leave out that apparently elena succumbs to something worse. and stefan — a flare of envy and longing stills his tongue from the comfort he could give, the comfort he wants her to feel and that he would loathe to offer. stefan is a fool, but he is not so foolish to not return to her, eventually.

and her mother. her mother is what freezes him in true uncertainty, true horror; he will not deal with that blow. not before she need feel it.)

slowly, without knowing what he'll do, he reaches again for the phone. as soon as he begins, the weight of his decision settles. )

You underestimate the lengths those who love you will go for you. Your mother will look for you. So will Elena. ( no matter her troubles, the moment she realizes...

more words choke up his throat; he turns to look at her.

he's here with her now. i'm here with you now, he wants to promise, but what would it truly mean to her? does he have the right to say so, with lies in his intent?

he'll tell her all he can, he thinks. he'll tell her later. )

[persevere]

[She sniffles once, reading the words as they appear, one by one. It's strange to sit here and have Klaus, of all people, console her. There are a lot of things she might expect, for him to want her to rely on him, for him to say something pretty about some aspect of her personality that most people would rather not deal with. He always did have a way of making her pause and consider the things he had to say, even if at first it was only because no one else had ever really said anything like them to her.

But to say she's underestimating her friend? Her Mom? It doesn't come back to him, the way it so often did. Almost everything he said seemed to circle back to something Klaus wanted for himself.

She looks over at him with watery eyes before her arms slip around his neck as she scoots a little closer, resting her cheek against his collarbone. She'd be lying if she said she hadn't thought about him in the time between their last meeting and now, but she swore it felt like she'd missed him.

She just didn't want to admit it.]

I'm glad you're here.

[She whispers it softly because she can't be bothered to type at the moment.]

[poppycock]

( the tears hanging in her eyes shine, deepening the blue of her eyes and the fullness of grief and gratitude in them. the sight of them clenches his heart in his chest, but it's the embrace of her arms that settles him, the press of her body snug against his and her head in the crook of his shoulder that thrums his pulse. he can feel the steady tempo of it thudding after he lifts his hands to press into her back. she is soft, and lovely, and to hold her in his arms is no mean desire; he can do nothing else but answer it. he wants to comfort her. his touches are slow but not hesitant, feeling and pressing into her skin, cradling her as close as she comes with restraint.

he tilts his head towards hers, fighting to keep the chaotic tumult of his wanting and longing and feelings in check, his mind racing and calculating and considering. (he is still selfish. he is still greedy. each inch of him of him wants to take this.

but he also knows how little it will mean if he does so. to her, and to him.)

her whisper sinks into him, melts him to his core; his arm encircles her by the waist closer, but his other slides up her arm to take her wrist, to gently pull her back. ) There is something important for you to hear, ( he murmurs. )

[persevere]

[That's almost never something anyone ever wants to hear. It practically screams of something awful, and Caroline isn't sure how much awful she can take right now. She wants to pretend like she didn't hear it, just ignore whatever stupid thing he thinks she has to know, but she also knows she can't.

Apparently he's not going to let her, anyway.

His fingers brush over her skin before encircling her wrist, silently urging her away. She pulls back slowly, reluctantly, and wipes at her face with her free hand. She doesn't say anything. She just sits there expectantly with a silent sigh, waiting for him to tell her whatever it is he plans.]

[poppycock]

( he cannot, feeling the cool softness of her skin, her hand fit so sweetly in his grasp. he cannot, as their eyes meet, the dread and weariness in hers he would expect to see so prominent and resigned. his hold on her is light, but enduring; he holds her hand in his, knowing the words he speaks will not be the full truth, but they will be the truth.

they will comfort her. ) Bonnie and Damon will not stay dead. Elena will be all right. Stefan... ( how he loathes to admit, knows what it will lead to: ) will come home.

( he lets the words sink in. he lets them sink in for them both, the fear of what he says next rounding his eyes. klaus licks his lips, glances away, his voice roughening with feeling. with worry. ) This place... Caroline. ( he finds her eyes again. ) However it works... Whatever time I was pulled from, was after yours.

[persevere]

[It doesn't comfort her, at least not right away, and the reasoning is a question that's on the tip of her tongue.

How does he know that?

She doesn't even have to ask since afterward, he offers up the answer to her. It would help if that answer made even one lick of sense. Her first reaction is anger, because it seems impossible.]

Are you lying just to make me feel better? You realize that sounds crazy, right?

[But while Klaus was a lot of things, he didn't tend to lie. He didn't need to. And what would he actually gain from telling her that her friends would be okay? It would be cruel to give her false hope, after all, and that wasn't going to win any points with her in the long run.]

You better not be screwing with me.

[poppycock]

( her disbelief and anger are hardly earth-shaking, but still he looks away, frustrated not with her, but with the reality of their situation. of his situation, stuck out of place and time. he hardly has reason to lie; he has no motive to do so about this, and her denial only serves to remind him:

it would not help her. it would also not help him, alone and adrift away from his family and his daughter.

his jaw works and he looks back to her. ) I truly wish I was.

[persevere]

[She's seen a lot in the years since she became a vampire. Supernatural creatures, magic, doppelgangers...it was a lot. There had been the Other Side, an entire parallel dimension, so being here wasn't the craziest part. Time travel was a little out there, but was it really all that outside the realm of things they'd dealt with?

Apparently not.

She lets out an accepting but shuddering breath, followed by a quiet nod. She believes him.]

Thank you for telling me.

[Her friends would be okay. They'd all come home. Elena would get Damon back.

She couldn't help but let the relief wash over her.]