Post by Klaus Mikaelson on Aug 27, 2014 19:53:46 GMT -6
He stood on the balcony of the building overlooking the Quarter. It was relaxing this time of evening, about an hour before the sun began to rise. He inhaled the sweet but foul smells of the city and closed his eyes, smiling a bit. One day Hope would see his kingdom, but for now, it was best she was only a thought in his mind and never an utter on his tongue. For what everyone else knew, she had perished and he was distraught. Deep down within the core of himself, he was just that. He did feel as if he had lost her forever, not knowing her exact location but keeping good faith that the one person he entrusted in her well being would take care of the only priceless thing in his life.
Hope
Her name was the epitome of the very thing he wanted, the thing he desire more than anything but never in his lifetimes of walking the Earth ever allowed himself to try. The way of thinking was never his character, he was not a hopeful person. The last time he ever could remember hoping for something, was when he hoped Mikael could love him as a son, and he was foolish to think it could ever happen. He was a mere boy, now a man who lacked hope...finally was blessed with a piece of it. A piece he had to keep hidden from the world.
Leaning forward slightly, he placed his hands on the railing and gripped it tight. Watching as the sun began to peek over the far end of New Orleans, rising behind the Huey P. Long bridge and smiled. For months he fought to regain control of this city, the city he once helped build before being ran out by Mikael. Overthrowing Marcel had not been easy, but the accomplishment was something he was proud of. This was his city...and a few changes were going to be made.
Starting with those petty Guerrero wolves and their schemes to regain control of the Quarter. He did need something to distract him, why not a little hobby of cat and mouse games?
After all--you were in the city whose motto was, Laissez les bon temps roulez, and he would do just that...or maybe some head would roll but that would ensure good times. He smirked at the thought.
Leaning forward slightly, he placed his hands on the railing and gripped it tight. Watching as the sun began to peek over the far end of New Orleans, rising behind the Huey P. Long bridge and smiled. For months he fought to regain control of this city, the city he once helped build before being ran out by Mikael. Overthrowing Marcel had not been easy, but the accomplishment was something he was proud of. This was his city...and a few changes were going to be made.
Starting with those petty Guerrero wolves and their schemes to regain control of the Quarter. He did need something to distract him, why not a little hobby of cat and mouse games?
After all--you were in the city whose motto was, Laissez les bon temps roulez, and he would do just that...or maybe some head would roll but that would ensure good times. He smirked at the thought.
