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This morning’s announcement had been a rather interesting one, and upon his brief request to Dmitri, it was more than apparent that this morning’s news had been absolute. How could Alaric benefit from this however? The thought had been in his mind all morning since Dmitri spoke at the gathering. Suddenly there were new players thrust unto the board, players who undoubtedly had zero experience or knowledge in what they were doing. They were lords, yes, but lords that had been skirting through life on the shoulders of giants, and now they were cast aside, specifically Dmitri’s son. There was some advantage to this, but until he had a clear cut idea, Alaric needed to gain some intel, do some reconnaissance so to speak. Might as well start from the top down, he’d already spoken with Dmitri on his decision on what to do with his son’s money, which was a rather terse….

“Leonidas will keep his position within the family, Valarian will be playing along but mostly giving him a chance to find a suitable partner to marry. For the other two, freeze the accounts they have linked back to ours, they have wanted to be free from the Tepes name and so they shall have a taste of that freedom. If you’ve found some spare time call up our partners and let them know any business made with Kasania or Niklaus will result in ceasing our investments and ending our partnership. I cannot have my dear children getting off easy through the power of affluence.”

Just as calculated and cunning as ever, Dmitri had thought his plan rather thoroughly to avoid any unnecessary loopholes the children could exploit. Within a matter of minutes he’d already gone ahead and frozen their accounts, effectively slamming the vault door in the faces of Kasania and Niklaus. Within the hour, anything involving business, financial, legal or political, in the light of the public or amongst the shadows had been informed of the latest information. Should they try to request any favors from these individuals they’d be denied, or if they had done so before Alaric made the call, would be cancelled. Should either try to even breach these barriers, they would be warned by lawyers with at best a cease and desist, at worst, court dates. Though this rather effective lock and key had been Dmitri’s first step to tell his children to grow up, it had also been Alaric’s first step in his own efforts to attempt this coup; for if his children could not use any affluence, they would be won over by Alaric’s influence.

Now that the first step had been done the next best option was to speak with Dmitri’s
brothers, Viktor first, he’d already heard some interesting info from Sebastian not too long ago. Rather conveniently if anyone were to ask Alaric, best to keep an eye on that one, more so than usual. Viktor’s ‘office’ wasn’t too far from Alaric’s, he had taken up the space almost immediately after arriving upon the island, as had the other Lords and Ladies to their own respective ‘offices/rooms’. Once arriving at the door, Alaric rapped his knuckles on the door thrice, before turning the handle and entering the room. Inside the room was a lone desk with a computer, a multitude of books placed carefully along the shelves on the wall, two chairs, a fireplace and Viktor standing in front of it. The man appeared to be ‘brooding’, but Alaric made his presence known either way. “Greetings Lord Viktor,” entering the room and quickly closing the door, he took stock of what was in front of him.

In addition to the furniture and decorative art pieces/sculptures, to his left was a small bar, stocked with liquor of many a variety. Ideally there was an impressive bottle of blood infused cabernet, Alaric himself generally stayed away from the harder spirits, as he felt they diminished the quality of the blood within them from the alcohol proofing. “Your brother certainly knows how to put down the proverbial hammer,” Pulling the wine from the cooler and uncorking it, Alaric began to fill up two glasses of the red liquid, “I can only imagine how your nephew is handling this.” Turning from the table, a glass in each hand he made his way over to the Tepes sibling and offered him a glass, “Personally I was curious about your opinion of the matter, but I do understand if I’ve come at a bad time.”

There was no sign of feeling behind Viktor’s hardened expression. The moment he heard footsteps approaching the door, he shifted his emotions and made sure every fiber of his being was utter nonchalance. Detached. The clock on the mantel silently ticked. Respectfully, the centuries old Tepes advisor clutched his fingers on the stem of the wine glass, not looking away from the fire. Instead, he made room for Alaric beside him to stare at the blaze and get lost in the messages it may convey. Viktor did have his quirks, as all Elders do.

“As they say, in life, bad times will often lead to great things.” The man with tousled dark brown hair lifted his glass, briefly giving a glance to his brother’s accountant, before gingerly taking a sip. Such a delicacy this drink was. “My other brother, Sebastian, has always been one for dramatics. He believes there is a war coming.” Such was the error in the flamboyant vampire’s ways. “Do I believe that?” He shook his head, heavily sighing, “No. We’ve always been at war with other races. What I do believe is there are monsters in this world that have sold their soul for peace but found hell instead and our children, what we deem as our legacies, have no idea what monsters lurk in the shadows. What monsters are capable of. Do I think throwing them to the wolves was a wise decision on Dmitri’s part?” He would be considered a heretic if he talked in complete truths.

Taking a purposeful pause, Viktor took another deep sip of the blood liquid, before peering down at the substance in his glass, “Does that require an answer you don’t already know?” With a sharp glare, he brought his attention back to the only other soul in his chambers. In truth, Viktor believed children needed to be under the tutelage of a mentor. Someone wiser than them. Someone smarter than them. Someone that has lived to see the hardships and growing pains of being a vampire.

New threats will emerge, whether it be in the form of a hunter, a werewolf, or their own kind (witches as far as he was concerned was a neutral party), and those that were pampered would fall beneath the cracks. This contest, so to speak, was a game changer. It gave those that hungered for the spotlight an opportunity to take it away from those given it by birthright. Those that had less were far more prepared than those given everything. That doesn’t mean he did not believe in the Tepes legacies. He simply was a realist. This was their time to prove the old folk wrong, while their trials and tribulations either made them, or broke them.

“Now, where does this put you?” Viktor turned his body to face the other man. A man whose beginnings he was well aware of. A servant to Dmitri. Just like he was, but worse. A man who lost his kingdom. The house he called his own. A man whose worth was limited to what the King deemed fit. If he strayed too far from the prison bars, how much trouble would that cause for his dear brother? Plenty. The Elder was not one to beat around the bush and wanted to know exactly why Alphaeus felt it was necessary to breach his solitude. What was his motive? Surely not because he actually cared about his opinion on this trivial pursuit of building a house from the ground up. He wanted more. Something underneath the surface, but what exactly?

Invited over to the fire by his silent benefactor Alpheus moved to the Elder’s side and stared into the flames alongside him, their light dancing and flickering in his eyes. He listened intently, swirling his wine and allowing it to mull around his tongue just as he let Viktor’s words mull about in his mind. Though the words he spoke were cryptic, they were deliberate and they spoke well enough on the Elder’s mind that Alaric could understand where he was coming from. Inside he silently mused on the thought of Sebastian’s dramatics, though these were true in their own right, Viktor was just as much the drama queen as his brother. After all if Sebastian was the mask of comedy, then Viktor was the mask of drama; he took things a little too seriously. Then, came the big question, and Alpheus couldn’t help but chuckle, “Straight to the point, eh? Alright then, I’ll alleviate your concerns

Placing the glass atop the fireplace mantle, Alpheus turned to face Viktor, his jade eyes flickering in the light of the hearth ever so softly. “You know as well as I do, that I’ve lived a very long time, as have you. We’ve seen war, sickness, death, the timeless march of progress.” In a sense the vampiric race, especially the ancient generations have practically seen it all, and yet there’s always new surprises around the corner. “It’s difficult work, raising and maintaining an empire, you know this,” Alaric’s head dropped slightly as well, “It’s even harder to watch it crumble at your feet…” The day that the Tepes name condemned his empire, was not forgotten to the elder and his gloved hand crinkled ever so slightly as he gripped his fist tighter. “I have no desire to start from the bottom up again, I’m done trying to be at the top of the food chain, that flame has long been extinguished.” Looking to Viktor, a small sense of sadness in his eyes, “To quote a poem I once read, ‘Many a flower grow in these gardens, each wanting to grow the tallest, or bloom the brightest; sooner or later, they all get plucked. I desire neither, for I only wish to remain in the garden, until my time has come to return to the dirt.’

Allowing the other man to contemplate his words, Alaric quickly grabbed his glass and downed the rest of the red liquid, turning his back to Viktor he returned to the bottle to pour himself another glass. “We cannot question our Lord’s decision on the matter though, what is done is done for Dmitri’s word is law.”‘Long live the King’“I’ve already been ordered to freeze their assets, anyone who has ever been rumoured the name ‘Tepes’ now knows if they even breathe in Niklaus or Kasania’s direction, that their lives are forfeit.” Finishing his pour he returned the bottle to its proper place, “If you were to ask me, I’d believe they were being set up for failure, living in their royal lifestyle, a true prince to pauper story; how could anyone possibly survive?” Turning back he approached the Elder once more, “So...what do we do about it?” Viktor was an Elder vampire and had a name to maintain, this was for certain, but he was not as harsh as Dmitri, and not as vile and wicked as Sebastian. No he had a softer side, a more comforting parental approach and if the rumours he heard from Seb were true, then Alaric could potentially play these gentle hands of his upon the fiddle of fate. If not, Al always had an Ace up his sleeve to play.

“As far as Dmitri is concerned, we maintain a neutral stance.” Walking away from the accountant, Viktor placed his glass on the desk. After leaning against the mahogany table, he crossed his arms and reflected. His stern gaze never wavering from the intrigue that Alaric presented. Viktor was aware of the assets being frozen, even prior to this meeting. Whatever Dmitri decides, more often than not, he was the first to know. Yet, Viktor Tepes’ fascination was not on the information of his dear niece and nephew. He knew one way or another, they would come out alive. Damaged, but still alive. One more so than the other.

That was neither here nor there. What he cared about and latched onto was the notion of survival. This gave him an understanding of whatever the other man wanted, he was aiming to grab the heart the Elder had for those children. If not for those children and the Tepes name, which Alaric so strongly believed Viktor supported because of his seemingly obvious loyalty, then for the future of their race. And if not for that, then for what he loved. Viktor was brought back to Molly and her desperate pursuit for perfection. A utopia. A world where survival of the fittest, a dog eat dog world, was no longer a concern. Molly’s face turned into Pandora’s. Although he wanted to smile, he kept his mask on, as he always did.

He knew where his priorities lie, did Alpheus?

Running his hand through his long hair, Viktor claimed, “There are no morals in politics and once they realize that, they will have an advantage. All I can do is hope whoever succeeds Dmitri, that they will be in the service of the people. That they do not lose sight of civility. In spite of the fact that... ” He paused, cracking his knuckles in the process, before admitting, “... I’d be damned if I die and leave this world the way it is.” In absolute disarray. A world that Pandora couldn’t thrive in because someone would want to use her as a weapon or worse, kill her because they fear what she may become. Turning his sigil ring around his finger, just like Sebastian does, he countered Alaric’s question, “I suppose a better question you should be asking is will you control the chaos or embrace it?”

If his priorities weren’t in the Tepes name, then… the rumours were true… Unlike Viktor’s steely gaze, Alaric couldn’t help but lose his own visage, his face contorting into one of pure amusement as he let out a rather hefty cackle. “ forgive me my Lord,” he said in bursts of laughter. It was time to save a bit of face, while also letting on to his ploy, “You ask me to either embrace the chaos, or attempt to control it…” he rubbed his hands together, head staring at the ground as he paced silently before looking back up at Viktor, a subtle glow in his eyes, “Is it truly too much to ask for both? To embrace the chaos in an attempt to control it?”

Supping from his drink, Alaric’s demeanor returned to a rather reasonable sanity, calming himself from a mood that could only be matched by Sebastian. “It would seem’re not as concerned about your niece and nephew as much as you should be, given your statements to your brother’s decision.’s because you’re ‘more’ concerned about the well-being of someone else...someone who’s...not of your own kin, or rather…” Alaric stared Viktor dead in the eyes, “Your adopted kin ...” Upon that notion, he let it sink in as Alaric began to circle the Tepes brother, “We all had been wondering why she hadn’t been turned to one of us yet. How could she still remain human? How could she continue to interact with us? Does she know what you are? Does she know what ‘she’ is? How would your brother feel if her identity were to be revealed? Quite truly ‘inhuman’ she was?”

A small chuckle elicited from his lips as he stood in front of Viktor, “What a shame if she were to be burnt at the stake…”

Calmly, Viktor made his way to the door and opened it, “Leave.” was all he said in response. The Elder will no longer indulge the accountant’s fantasies. He was a fool to think he knew all the answers and there were only two people who could’ve told him. Alexander or Sebastian. But to agree or disagree would only make Alaric believe what he knew was the truth. He knew nothing and for his age, he was dumb to believe that he was told this information without intent.

Alaric closed his eyes to the lord’s request, and complied, “As you wish, Lord Viktor…” Straightening out his gloves, Al made his way to the entrance, but not before placing his hand, claws ripping through the leather and unto Viktor’s shoulder. “You should listen to your brother better, my lord...war is coming, but not the kind you will expect or be prepared for.” With a subtle smirk and ripping his claws from Viktor’s coat, Alpheus disappeared to his own quarters, awaiting the next step in his plan.

While the man vanished, Viktor closed the door and went back to the fireplace. On the mantle, there resided that ticking, antique dual chime clock. He opened the glass of it and with his long nails, he peeled off the number two, revealing a hidden cam bug.

Even old men have tricks up their sleeves.

Downtown - 5:30am
Mentions → Jagger @AllycatQuentin @Tootsiepop



It was still quite dark in the town of Foxbridge, the sun just barely kissing the horizon as it began to rise in the east. Despite the night sky that was about to give way to the day, there was another glowing light to be seen in the small town. It’s light reflecting off every surface as it tried to maintain a minimal glow, so as not to disturb the peaceful residents of the quaint village. Wrapped up in a coat, umbrella in hand, Fiona strode along the usual course to the Morningstar Cafe, along their familiar path; a walk performed many a time since they found this small town.

Reflecting on the night before, both Flint and Fiona had argued who was going to open the cafe, normally ‘he’ would be the one to do it, but ‘she’ really wanted to be the one to do it since it had been so long. Obviously Fiona won in this case, the final nail in the coffin being that their boss wanted to do a ‘beach theme’ for the evening and ‘he’ could showcase the cocktails better than ‘her’; Flint couldn’t argue with that. With the deed done, they spent an evening nestled in the stone fireplace, ‘burning off’ the energy from the previous day, waking up and immediately enjoying a hot oil bath before dressing, and going off to work. Some would call such a bath detrimental, to them though, the blistering bubbles were rather soothing on the several millennia old being, plus it wasn’t like they were going to burn down their own apartment, they had better control than that.

Approaching the cafe’s entrance they began to remove their coat and set it on top of their umbrella, carefully leaned against the side of the entrance. Once done, Fiona merged their form into a more liquidos fire and slid underneath the crack of the doorframe, reforming their humanoid shape once inside. They quickly unlocked the door and retrieved their belongings, bringing them out back to store in the employee area. Looking around the cafe, Fiona’s soft glow igniting the shadows, they were unsure if the cooks had even arrived yet, but even so, no matter as they liked to be the first to arrive either way. Both Flint and Fiona had a passion for the cafe, a loyalty to their bosses, almost akin to what some might consider a ‘teacher’s pet’, except their proverbial apple was to just get everything ready for the day ahead. Jagger seemed to audibly praise the elemental, and Q...he was quiet, but at least he seemed appreciative...mysterious, thoughtful, and quiet, but appreciative.

Shaking the albino’s image from their mind before burning a hole in the floor, Fiona went to work on getting everything ready. Tablecloths were placed precisely, ceramic, glass and silverware were uniformly placed before each seat at each tabletop. The windows were wiped clean of any imperfections and fingerprints, the countertop and bar shone its glossy veneer, and the fireplace roared as Fiona ignited it; it was more of an aesthetic than to warm the soul, they made sure of that after all.

Fiona could really see the sun shining through the shades now, it had only been a little more than 45 minutes, but everything was more or less picturesque for the cafe. All they had to do now was wait until the bosses arrived, maybe say hi as the other servers/cooks arrived. What to do until then though? “...Guess I’ll brew some coffee and polish glass until we open….”

A collaboration between Ollivander@BeastofDestiny & Elizabeth@The Muse

Still perched for the hour plus amount of time he’d stayed on that bench, Ollivander had witnessed the progress of time unfold around him. Initially there was peace, then suddenly the press had encroached upon the location he had so dearly held unto his heart as a safe haven. Undoubtedly the news stations of not just this town, but from cities far away. Cities that had never once held an ounce of delight to the seclusive town tucked neatly away from the ‘juicy stories’ that they sought after. No, today was just another day of newscasters ready for the next harvest of social curriculum. In the eyes of Ollivander they were nothing more than 3rd graders seeking attention, willing to go outside the norm to be seen by the peers around them.

Ollivander sighed, his hands gently caressing the etchings upon his cane. Had he ever been so cynical? Was it simply his old age, or was it the news of recent events? The possibility was that it was a bit of both, the anchor teams gathering around the community center certainly weren’t helping the old man’s opinion either. Despite everything that was happening to the small town he grew up in and loved, he was a scholar first and a bigot second, and everyone had a history. What may have brought one from point A to point B is their story and their reason for being there. As much as he could judge as the human he was, he had to take some form of logic into account and think rationally. Before he could continue his thought process however, a voice pulled him back into reality.

"Doing okay, Mr. Clarke?"

Startled from the sudden comment, Ollie turned towards his most recent companion. Blinking a couple of times, his mind wondering how she had snuck up on him, only to realize he knew the answer to that. He simply smiled and chortled out. “My dear Elizabeth! That’s my line, don’t you know?” He laughed out in as much earnest as he could produce before that earnest gave way to half-heartedness. His chuckle fading, his sad eyes setting back in he sighed, “Forgive me my child, I tend to forget that those who are my students are sometimes… adults as well” Resting his chin heavily on his cane he pondered, “No...I suppose I’m not doing ‘okay’ Elizabeth… Ever since I heard the news from you, I’ve mostly just deep thought.”

He still remembered the tears and emotion he felt from his young pupil, how he handled the situation rather quickly amongst the other staff and the dean of office. It wasn’t until he returned to his manor that the full gravity of the situation set in and he broke down himself. He shook his head in earnest, voiding the demons from his mind and the glassiness from his eyes. He’d recommended the young girl to be out of school per his request and formal submittance, but he hadn’t seen her since. Placing an aged hand on her shoulder he smiled softly, noting the tear stained, puffy eyes of one who deeply cared for the loss of her friend, only dreading the news to soon be announced. “As I said my darling, this is a question for me to are you doing?” She certainly wasn’t a dumb or arrogant girl, and more than likely she knew just how bad he was feeling. That being said, as her elder, he couldn’t help but be concerned for her and only hoped for the best, most likely knowing the truth of the situation; She was devastated.

Immediately, Elizabeth’s green eyes welled with tears. She was not okay and for some reason saying it out loud would have made it worse. She shook her head, unable to speak lest the water works begin all over again. Taking in a deep breath, she looked out over the calm river and patted her eyes with the sleeves of Lily’s hoodie. The care expressed on Ollivander’s face and in the tone of his voice was too much right now. She needed it, but the love felt like it was begging her to crack. She was on the verge of a mental break down and fighting so hard not to completely lose it.

”Not… very good…” She sniffled and returned his gaze, finally finding her voice once again. ”I’m sure you can tell by my…” She gestured to her face and let out a small chuckle, knowing how bad she must appear. Hopefully the media cameras didn’t intend to film the crowd members…

Sighing, she relaxed into the bench and anxiously rolled one of the hoodie strings between her fingers. ”What do you think they’ll tell us?” She was fighting tears again, feeling the frog in her throat trying to steal her voice once more. ” news is good news….. right?”

Instinct was to reach into his vest pocket and produce a handkerchief for the young woman, but she already had her own in the form of the sweater she wore. It looked awfully familiar, he’d seen Lillian come into class wearing it now that he was recalling? Was it perhaps a gift? Maybe just left over from a night of slumber partying? Either way Ollivander had no reason to question why Elizabeth had it, after all the two girls were practically tied at the hip since the first day they met one another. He looked at the young woman as she attempted to regain her composure, the sweater was probably a necessary item at the moment. The bright orange article of clothing, a reminder of someone lost, the amount of nostalgia that it held was more than likely insurmountable, and the weight on Elizabeth’s shoulders… he couldn’t even begin to fathom.

Her next question, however, gave him pause; “No news is good news…”. He looked at her in earnest before turning his head to the reporters, given the pomp and circumstance that was being pulled off...the likelihood of the speech to be of a positive volition… was rather bleak. Everyone wanted the fairy tale ending, the prince kisses the princess, they live happily ever after; Hansel and Gretel make it back home after baking the witch in her own oven. To this girl, however, her happily ever after would be after she reunited with her best friend and he didn’t have the heart to tell her that not only was her friend just missing, but was more than likely gone from her mortal coil. Turning back to face her, a soft smile on his face, he tried to reassure her, “That’s always the hope my dear,” but despite the evasive answer he did want to prepare her in some way, “Whatever happens today though, we must try to be brave, ‘keep a stiff upper lip’ as my father would say. That being said, there’s nothing wrong with the way you feel right now, and no matter what happens I’m here for you, as I’ve always been for you and your family.” His mind had wandered back to her mother’s funeral, a poor unfortunate soul whose life had been cut off far too early from this world. It changed her father, and though Elizabeth wasn’t always as cheerful as she used to be, she still carried on. Ollivander respected her for that, that strength as she carried all the weight of the world on her shoulders. He couldn’t even imagine what would happen to her if Lillian never returned, was never found, or even killed. To have something like that happen, it’d break the young woman’s heart.

Elizabeth nodded in agreement, though his notion of “whatever happens today” made it feel like something was constricting around her heart. It was getting harder to breathe the longer this day went on. The longer her life went on, truly. “Cursed…” the word crossed her mind again; one of those intrusive thoughts you don’t mean to have but they slither out of the darkness and torment you for the rest of the day anyway.

“You have always been there for my family…” she echoed in confirmation, remembering how her father had crumbled at her mother’s funeral. Ollivander had been there to support them and to remind their father that he still had a family to care for despite the circumstances. He had to stay strong and be present. If not for Ollivander, she wasn’t sure how her father would have pulled through. It had been four years since the accident, and her father had never been the same, but Ollivander had always been there; checking in on them from time to time, making sure her and the boys were doing well and that her father was taking care of himself too.

Once, on a night that Lily had been out of town and the twins had gone to a sleepover, Elizbeth’s father chose to get belligerent drunk. He became abrasive, saying words he would normally never utter to her. He had been so angry at her, at the world. She had supposed it was his way of dealing with pain, but it was not something she signed up for… so she left. With no best friend to turn to, Elizabeth’s next best option had been her dear family friend Ollivander Clarke. He only lived a couple blocks away and she figured that he would take her in… she had hoped. When she arrived, of course, his door had been locked. It was 2am afterall. Refusing to be rude and wake him, she had resigned herself to spending the night on his porch. At least it was warm outside, considering it was the middle of summer. It wasn’t the ideal sleeping situation, but it was better than being verbally abused inside her own home. However, clumsy as she was, she had tripped over the plant stand outside his door and knocked over a broom. A few of the planters had loudly clinked together and the broom bounced several times against the concrete. Just as she had picked up the broom, the front door flung open.

“YOU RAPSCALLIONS! I'LL SLICE THE LOT OF YOU, I'LL BUTCHER YOUR SONS! I'LL.... Blinking a couple of times at his supposed intruder, he mouthed, “Elizabeth?”

She yelped and jumped backwards, away from the Afghan cane sword he was swinging around at the assumed intruder. After a few moments of awkwardness, he had invited her inside and brewed some tea to discuss why she was at his house at 2 in the morning. Emotional and trusting, she had told him everything about what her father had been up to and why she had to get away. Shortly after, he allowed her to sleep in his spare room for the night. Not even a full week later, Ollivander had presented her with a key to his house and told her that she was welcome any time; day or night, dusk or dawn. They were truly bonded after that. The man was a saint and her guardian angel - that’s what Elizabeth had called Ollivander in her journal entries. He still lived up to the name, even if he didn’t know it.

Breaking from her thoughts, Elizabeth sat upright, turned to him and stoutly wrapped him in a tight embrace. “Thank you… I don’t know what we’d do without you.” She lingered there for a moment before pulling away. Hearing a familiar truck, she looked towards the community center and spotted an old beat up Ford F150 from 1990. “My dad and the boys are here.” She felt a sinking feeling in her chest, knowing how close it must be to noon if they were arriving. “I’m going to go meet them so we can sit together. Want to join us?”

Perhaps he had said the wrong words? She had grown quiet, only to mutter the same words he had just used. He let Elizabeth process them, wondering if maybe he had gone too far with his speech, the last thing he wanted to do during this rather dire moment was- … then it stopped, her lithe form making contact with his body in a light, yet endearing embrace. Her words of thanks only floored him as his eyes suddenly moistened to the gratefulness this young woman had expressed. His own hands had wrapped around her body to return the favor, “You’re welcome my dear...Truly” He felt tears streaming down his face as she let go of him, now it was time to finally retrieve that handkerchief he’d meant for her, dabbing at his own face before returning his gaze to hers.

Noticing where she was looking though, he himself turned to look in that direction only to look at his watch and confirm that the time was nigh. Sighing once again, he pocketed the watch and listened to her simple, yet thoughtful request. Though he wasn’t nearly as worn as his student, his aged face was showing their tell-tale signs of sadness and despondence, yet he wasn’t about to reject such a request from a longtime friend. “But of course,” he readied himself to stand up, mostly using the cane for support so he could right himself. “Shall we go then, my dear Elizabeth?” Ollivander then extended his arm, because having been born English, he was a gentleman first, and a scholar second.

I volunteer to be a father who adopted a human!

It might even play into my fluffy cuthulu mythos. Kid was a sacrifice unto me and I was like. "Oh hey little guy. Ill take you home."

Instantly thought of this

Edit: skip to about 1:35
I want to write as a Cambion cashier, who flirts with EVERY customers that come through.

I can already imagine a 'spirited' competition between your character and mine.
Just PM'd my character, should've specified that they are fireproof unless they don't want to be...
Speaking of which, what sort of monster is everyone thinking of? I am thinking of going with Cambion if that isn't pushing it. 👀😮

Fire Elemental
<Snipped quote by BeastofDestiny>

I don't think any of whoever we choose will have any or many gifs.

We don't know! Geeeez!

That's what I figured, cause not that there aren't gifs of the character I have in mind, there aren't a lot of them XD
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