( Whatever comes next, Elijah knows that he and Niklaus will face it together. Whether they face onslaughts of torment or find a settled peace, or whatever in between, they won't be alone. Together, always and forever. Before life started to slip from him, he'd surmised that they both may end up settling in a state of eternal sleep; the sensations of death may even be akin to being daggered.
What does come next sweeps all breath from him, holding him in a space that's like a tale of fantastical horror. It is, perhaps, the punishment they deserve.
Attempts at grasping how the throes of dying have played out flood over him when his eyes snap open. He's in a cottage, alone, interior dilapidated and foreign. He happens to have died in a suit, though, so he's able to leave that place with haste. Forest around him, his face remains hardened and unyielding as he examines what could have been an idyllic scene, if not for the must and decay tainting the air.
He walks, at human speed, stance guarded wholly because that's how he usually finds himself, especially over the course of the past few days. He gets several paces away from the house when he stops, glancing slightly up at absolutely nothing, listening out to try to pick up on anything noteworthy. About half a minute passes before he speaks, question thick in his tone, the single word purposeful. ) Niklaus?
( He hasn't heard a sound indicative of his brother being nearby. Are they in separate hells? Only one way to find out...
Elijah continues to walk, spotting a town just past the treeline. It gives him pause, but he makes no show of that. He comes out into the open and finally makes a dash at heightened speed, pointedly at what could be the main street of any small town in America. When he stops, he lets one hand slide into a pocket of his pants, eyes narrowing as he gives a full, pressing gaze around. ) Who knew the afterlife would be rife with quiet. I'd expected the torturing of souls. Brimstone. Imps. Not a space without anything glaringly...sinister. ( Talking to himself, naturally, and he just continues to stand there as he looks around.
All in all, he looks like he always would. Suit well-tailored, clean, ironed. His hair is neat, face shaven. He doesn't appear to be lacking in confidence, though he's undeniably stoic. He lets a quiet, resigned sigh slip from his lips as he swallows just so. Wherever the fates have taken him, he only hopes that Niklaus has found any semblance of peace. For all the darkness either of them have wrought, it's his younger brother's final deeds that really should matter most: Elijah isn't wholly surprised to be in what appears to be a bizarre purgatory, not after all he's done. He'd rather the outcome be different, but at least he'd had control over choosing to be there in those final moments of two far too long lives. Now, well, who knew what would transpire, truly. )
good endures;
spinning wheels
( Elijah explores his surroundings, likely a bit more informed about the whole of the situation he's in. He does absorb information quite well. One of the spinning wheels is the first jarring item he comes across. Or, he spots someone else pricking themselves upon its needle. The smell of blood fills his nostrils as he conjures up an expression of muted concern after making steps over to the person. ) Can I be of some assistance? It doesn't appear that this device remained gentle with you.
( He even offers a little smile, donning his suit and perfectly willing to sincerely provide aid. He's not familiar with what kind of consequences enchanted items may have, whoops. )
( ooc: please do feel free to pm me with any questions; also feel free to throw a wild card prompt at him! )
Elijah Mikaelson | The Originals
( Whatever comes next, Elijah knows that he and Niklaus will face it together. Whether they face onslaughts of torment or find a settled peace, or whatever in between, they won't be alone. Together, always and forever. Before life started to slip from him, he'd surmised that they both may end up settling in a state of eternal sleep; the sensations of death may even be akin to being daggered.
What does come next sweeps all breath from him, holding him in a space that's like a tale of fantastical horror. It is, perhaps, the punishment they deserve.
Attempts at grasping how the throes of dying have played out flood over him when his eyes snap open. He's in a cottage, alone, interior dilapidated and foreign. He happens to have died in a suit, though, so he's able to leave that place with haste. Forest around him, his face remains hardened and unyielding as he examines what could have been an idyllic scene, if not for the must and decay tainting the air.
He walks, at human speed, stance guarded wholly because that's how he usually finds himself, especially over the course of the past few days. He gets several paces away from the house when he stops, glancing slightly up at absolutely nothing, listening out to try to pick up on anything noteworthy. About half a minute passes before he speaks, question thick in his tone, the single word purposeful. ) Niklaus?
( He hasn't heard a sound indicative of his brother being nearby. Are they in separate hells? Only one way to find out...
Elijah continues to walk, spotting a town just past the treeline. It gives him pause, but he makes no show of that. He comes out into the open and finally makes a dash at heightened speed, pointedly at what could be the main street of any small town in America. When he stops, he lets one hand slide into a pocket of his pants, eyes narrowing as he gives a full, pressing gaze around. ) Who knew the afterlife would be rife with quiet. I'd expected the torturing of souls. Brimstone. Imps. Not a space without anything glaringly...sinister. ( Talking to himself, naturally, and he just continues to stand there as he looks around.
All in all, he looks like he always would. Suit well-tailored, clean, ironed. His hair is neat, face shaven. He doesn't appear to be lacking in confidence, though he's undeniably stoic. He lets a quiet, resigned sigh slip from his lips as he swallows just so. Wherever the fates have taken him, he only hopes that Niklaus has found any semblance of peace. For all the darkness either of them have wrought, it's his younger brother's final deeds that really should matter most: Elijah isn't wholly surprised to be in what appears to be a bizarre purgatory, not after all he's done. He'd rather the outcome be different, but at least he'd had control over choosing to be there in those final moments of two far too long lives. Now, well, who knew what would transpire, truly. )
good endures;
spinning wheels
( Elijah explores his surroundings, likely a bit more informed about the whole of the situation he's in. He does absorb information quite well. One of the spinning wheels is the first jarring item he comes across. Or, he spots someone else pricking themselves upon its needle. The smell of blood fills his nostrils as he conjures up an expression of muted concern after making steps over to the person. ) Can I be of some assistance? It doesn't appear that this device remained gentle with you.
( He even offers a little smile, donning his suit and perfectly willing to sincerely provide aid. He's not familiar with what kind of consequences enchanted items may have, whoops. )
( ooc: please do feel free to pm me with any questions; also feel free to throw a wild card prompt at him! )