nexvsvorti

[nexvsvorti]

how  odd  how  someone  can  feel  like  home  and  yet  you  barely  know  them.  you  know  of  him,  you  know  parts  of  him,  stories  of  him.  but  you  don't  know  him.  that's  okay,  maybe  this  is  an  opportunity  to  get  to  know  those  ones  you  missed  as  a  child.  fellow  crescent  wolves  that  were  gone  before  you  were  old  enough  to  really  appreciate  a  pack.  you  don't  even  know  his  name  but  that  accent,  the  feeling  in  your  chest,  all  points  towards  home  and  you  aren't  letting  an  opportunity  slip  you  by.

you  weren't  exactly  hurting  for  company  as  he  put  it  but  now  that  you  have  someone  akin  to  a  familiar  face  standing  in  front  of  you,  how  could  you  not  want  to  sit  and  talk  with  him  for  a  while?  but  how  do  you  go  about  it  without  spilling  every  second  of  the  future  to  him  at  the  same  time?

"let's  start  looking  then."  while  this  might  hinder  your  plan  for  a  drink  of  the  vampire  variety,  it  won't  stop  you  from  that  vodka  heavy  something  you've  been  wanting  either.  "name's  hope,  by  the  way."  you  set  off  in  a  random  direction,  hoping  it  might  lead  you  to  something  soon.

grin split his face in two. sure , oliver didn't care for strangers touching him all that much , but he could make an exception for a pretty face , couldn't he ?? " aww honey , i ain't the one to go askin' directions from. i'll have you walkin' all over hell's half acre. " a pause. " -but i reckon i could buy you a drink when we find one , if you's hurtin' for company. "

[nexvsvorti]

the  truth  nearly  tumbles  from  your  lips.  your  daughter.  your  heir.  the  inheritor  of  your  enemies  and  your  kingdom.  so  many  titles,  so  much  weight  on  shoulders  so  young  back  then.  still  now,  it  carries  with  you  but  unlike  the  shackles  they  used  to  be  these  titles  are  now  worn  with  pride  and  honor.  instead  of  the  truth,  you  aim  for  something  akin  to  it.  your  name  is  easy  enough,  even  if  he  knows  not  the  meaning  of  it  or  the  significance  just  yet.  time  will  come  and  you  beg  for  the  universe  to  let  him  have  that  lesson  still.  "my  name  is  hope."  words  come  out  softly,  carried  on  still  air  between  the  two  of  you.  "i  came  for  a  drink  but  i  think  you  got  to  everyone  first."

something about the next breath you take catches in your lungs. a scent you can't shake. your gaze snaps up, snagging on the young girl venturing closer. too close, with all this dead around you, with the way you must look to her right now. (every bit the monster you've always been.) she's young, and brave, and the fine hairs along your arms and the back of your neck are standing on end with her nearness. who is she? what is she? she's contradicting all your senses, ancient and sensitive as they are, twisting you two different directions.

"it is," you agree, terse, though it wasn't what you'd meant. paranoia's replaced all the anger burning this hole inside of you, for now; she's putting you too on edge. "and who might you be, then?"

[nexvsvorti]

you  don't  register  his  ranting  at  first,  it  means  nothing  to  you.  until  the  name  pops  up  and  suddenly  you're  very  invested  in  whatever  it  is  he  has  to  say.  you're  not  unfamiliar  with  the  black  sheep  mentality  that  your  uncle  has  about  the  family,  how  he's  often  felt  outside  the  rest  of  them  —  something  you  could  simply  relate  to  him  with.  you  two  had  grown  close  because  of  it,  centered  on  your  outsider  status  and  he  often  had  helped  your  darker  feelings  about  it  growing  up.  so  now  you  feel  like  you  might  just  be  able  to  return  that  favor  finally.  and  he's  right,  of  course.  you  don't  know  this  version  of  your  uncle,  not  yet  at  least.  by  all  remembrance,  he  should  be  dead  or  was  it  by  now  he'd  been  brought  back  by  your  grandmother  in  order  to  rip  apart  the  family?  sometimes  it's  hard  to  keep  the  stories  straight  in  your  head,  though  you  know  them  all  by  heart  at  least.

"i  can't  do  anything  about  the  family  bit,"  you  reply  with  a  chuckle.  you  pretend  you're  not  offended  by  it,  though  you've  no  right  to  be.  your  father  and  kol  haven't  made  up  yet,  haven't  bridged  their  centuries  old  gap.  klaus  hasn't  evolved,  kol  hasn't  changed  for  the  better.  things  haven't  happened  yet.  "i  can  offer  a  drink.  there's  a  place  not  far  from  here."

@nexvsvorti 🔒 kol  didn’t  even  register  them  at  first.  she  was  just  some  person  sat  on  the  edge  of  a  grimy  fountain  like  she  had  nothing  better  to  do  at  midnight.  but  once  he  noticed  them,  that  was  it.  she  looked  calm.  too  calm.  that  was  apparently  all  the  invitation  he  needed.  “do  you  want  to  know  what  it’s  like  living  with  a  family  of  emotionally  stunted  immortals?”  he  asked,  filled  with  frustration  and  hurt  as  he  came  to  a  halt  in  front  of  them.  “it’s  like  being  trapped  in  a  house  fire  where  everyone’s  holding  a  match  and  blaming  each  other  for  the  smoke.”  he  kept  going.  “listen,  i  went  to  bed  and  then  woke  up  in  this  prison.  no  note,  no  call,  no  ‘hey  kol,  fancy  being  magically  abducted  today?’  just  bam,  courtesy  of  my  loving,  deranged  family  —  it  has  to  be.”  then  he  glanced  at  them like  he’d  only  just  remembered  she  existed.  “not  that  you  asked.  obviously.  i  don’t  even  know  you.”  a  moment  passes.  “god,  i  need  a  drink and a  new  family.”

[nexvsvorti]

considering  the  last  time  you  had  a  drink  with  your  aunt  rebekah  hadn't  ended  in  the  best  of  terms,  you're  thankful  for  this  moment  nonetheless.  it's  a  redo,  of  sorts,  and  one  you  won't  be  passing  up  anytime  soon.  though  it's  been  decades,  you  still  have  so  many  more  years  ahead  of  you  before  you  feel  like  you'll  have  ever  made  up  for  the  mistakes  you  made.  perhaps  it's  part  of  why  you'd  done  the  spell  to  bring  everyone  back  to  the  beginning,  a  selfish  act  of  redemption  hidden  in  a  way  to  save  the  world  (again).  and  though  her  delicate  touch  brings  you  from  your  thoughts,  they  linger  slightly  as  she  speaks.

"i  can  always  count  on  you,  can't  i?"  there's  a  smile  in  your  words,  a  fondness  for  your  aunt  no  words  have  ever  been  able  to  explain.  there  from  the  beginning  of  your  life,  someone  always  ready  and  willing  to  stand  in  your  corner  no  matter  what.  someone  who  sought  you  out  in  your  darkest  times  and  fought  so  hard  to  bring  you  back  to  yourself.  the  title  aunt  feels  too  small  for  how  special  rebekah  mikaelson  is  to  you  and  you  fail  explain  it  in  words  anyway.  "how  does  it  feel?"  you  ask,  sliding  into  step  with  her  as  you  two  wander  to  find  the  nearest  bar  or  club  —  really  you're  not  picky  with  the  setting  you  just  want  a  drink.  "being  back  in  a  time?  before  it  all  went  wrong?"

“A  bar,  darling?  Really.  Though  I  suppose  you  are  your  father's  daughter  after  all.”  Her  eyes  flicker  with  something  between  amusement  and  warning  as  she  catches  the  delicate  touch—too  controlled  for  the  chaos  around  them,  too  deliberate  to  be  anything  but  practiced.  The  faintest  smile  curves  her  lips,  but  it  doesn’t  quite  reach  the  cold  edge  in  her  gaze.

She  steps  forward,  fingers  brushing  just  enough  to  steady  Hope’s  hand—a  rare  gesture  of  something  close  to  tenderness.  "Bars  are  traps  disguised  as  sanctuaries.  The  drinks  always  come  with  strings,  and  the  company’s  even  worse."

A  faint  smile,  sharp  as  a  knife’s  edge.  “But  I'm  sure  there's  a  bar  somewhere  close  where  we  can  find  ourselves  a  nice  drink.  I'm  your  father's  sister  after  all.”

[nexvsvorti]

"good  thing  you're  only  half  a  demon  then."  comes  the  reply  in  a  gentle  tone,  playful  even.  the  offer  to  sit  and  study  the  stars  with  melodi  isn't  a  bad  one  and  the  tribrid  nods,  dropping  to  lay  next  to  their  friend.  a  breath  away  from  the  other,  barely  shifting  and  the  two  would  touch  though  hope  is  careful  to  keep  distance  for  both  their  benefits.  "being  stuck  here  wasn't  the  plan.  coming  to  this  city  wasn't  even  the  plan  but  magic  has  ways  of  balancing  out  when  it's  used.  so  we  have  to  be  here  for  a  reason,  right?"  voicing  their  concerns  aloud  helps  lift  some  of  the  worry  from  their  shoulders,  if  only  a  fraction.  "where  do  we  even  start  to  figure  out  why  we're  here  of  all  places?  why  not  new  orleans,  why  not  mystic  falls,  why  not  beacon  hills?"  now  she's  just  being  dramatic.

❝ ⸻ technically all demons have a screw loose or two. ❞ Melodi lightly chuckled as she patted the spot besides her where her brother was laying down earlier . ❝ It's a big city , hope . it's 2011 and whoever is from the future that came with us , scattered all around ... In a city that we are clearly stuck in . Come watch the stars with me and think about our next move. ❞

[nexvsvorti]

considering  no  chastisement  comes  with  the  offer,  hope  simply  assumes  that  this  caroline  is  from  2011  and  not  the  mom  of  two,  headmaster,  responsible  adult  caroline  from  hope's  time.  "lead  the  way."  the  gesture  that  accompanies  the  statement  is  for  the  other  to  lead,  hope  will  follow  right  beside  her.  "what  are  we  drinking  to?  long  days,  longer  nights?"

The bar had basically become her best friend since her ill-fated arrival in this West Coast hellscape. Maybe she would’ve liked it here if she’d come by choice. But something about being magically yanked from one place and dumped into another had her loathing the entire state of California on principle.

Her room at the Hyperion was a far cry from anything cozy. No homey touches. No familiar comforts. Just silence and shadows and a creeping sense that something was seriously wrong. She’d been trying (and failing) to drown that feeling in tequila. Repeatedly.

A hand on her arm pulled her out of her spiraling thoughts, and she turned toward the brunette with an easy smile. One that came too naturally these days. A reflex, really, polished and practiced. “You’re in luck,” she said, tilting her head toward the door. “I’m on my way there myself, if you wanna tag along.”

[nexvsvorti]

stefan  salvatore,  alive  and  mostly  well.  there's  a  haunting  behind  those  eyes  that  hints  at  something  darker,  that  shows  not  everything  on  the  surface  might  be  perfect.  "sorry,"  comes  the  reply  in  haste,  dropping  the  hand  that  holds  him  in  place.  "you  look  like  you  could  use  a  drink  more  than  me."  the  words  are  said  kindly,  truly,  and  meant  too.  he  certainly  looks  like  he  might  be  in  need  of  a  drink,  a  long  one,  though  unspecified  if  you  mean  alcohol  or  something  else.

"can't help you there." of course, stefan had been to los angeles before. he'd been alive for decades -- how could he not? but cities change every day, even more so by the year and by the decades? yeah, this was pretty much a new city to him. and if he hadn't spent the past months dying again and again and again---- all of this to say he wasn't too invested in comparing the old with the new. "try a local."

[nexvsvorti]

your  breath  stops  when  you  see  him.  you  ignore  the  memories  that  surface  at  the  scene  before  you  (you're  seven  and  just  learned  how  to  astral  project  so  you  seek  him  out.  he's  covered  in  blood  with  corpses  littered  about  just  as  they  are  now.  he  screams  at  you  to  leave  and  fearful  of  the  monster  in  front  of  you,  you  vanish.)  instead  you  step  over  or  around  any  of  the  dead.  closer,  you  want  to  be  closer  to  him.  the  urge  aches,  pulls  at  your  bones  and  claws  at  your  rapid  heart.  he's  alive,  he's  here,  and  he's  just  the  same  as  your  will  always  remember.

to  you  he  is  more  than  just  the  villain  in  any  story.  to  you  he  is  your  knight,  your  prince,  your  king,  your  protector.

"seems  like  the  party  is  over."  you  stop  short  of  just  out  of  arms  reach.  the  ache  to  touch  him  burns  hotter  but  you  do  your  best  to  ignore  it.

this violent scene laid down before you shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone who's ever heard your name before. restlessness carries you back and forth through the battered bar, your boots leaving bloody footprints across the floor. not even the fresh bodies slow you down; you merely kick them out of your way. it's only a matter of time, you assume, before whoever made the monumental mistake of imprisoning you here realizes you're ruining the entire game of it. leaving a trail of corpses and mangled buildings in your wake.

perhaps that's them now. lingering in the doorway like a phantom spectator. you don't bother to look at them as you press a thumb to one corner of your mouth, wipe at the blood there. "make it worth my time or join the party," a broad gesture with your arm to indicate your carelessly arranged victims, "the choice is yours." more an illusion of choice, really, but semantics.

[nexvsvorti]

first  thing  first,  hope  needed  a  drink.  a  long  one  with  notes  of  b  positive  in  it.  the  idea  of  grabbing  just  anyone  off  the  street  seemed  too  easy  in  a  city  like  this,  just  as  simple  as  it  used  to  be  in  new  orleans  before  it  all  changed.  then  again  she  isn't  sure  if  she  wants  a  drink  from  the  source  (lie.  they  always  want  a  drink  like  that.)  or  if  she's  more  in  search  of  something  with  a  heavy  pour  of  vodka  in  it.

"excuse  me."  a  delicate  touch  as  they  reach  out  to  grab  hold  of  anyone  that  passes  by.  they  just  hope  the  person  is  a  local  or  at  least  knows  something.  touch  is  gentle  as  not  to  betray  the  hidden  strength  behind  those  hands.  "point  me  in  the  direction  of  the  nearest  bar?"  two  birds,  one  stone  then.

[nexvsvorti]

"you're  staring  to  sound  like  you've  lost  your  mind."  the  words  are  softly  spoken  as  the  tribrid  approaches  the  half  demon.  arms  crossed  over  their  chest  as  hope  looks  down  at  the  other.  "you're  not  so  easy  to  find  in  a  place  like  this."  thankfully  it  wasn't  too  hard  after  an  adapted  tracking  spell.

Her brother had left to go get them food and left melodi laying under the tree in the park as she looked up at the stars . They were in the past . 2011 . her mother was in jail and angel and the rest mourning over buffy . she was sure buffy died sometime ago . albeit she would be brought back . so many events that happened in the past . SHE WONDERED IF JUST BY BEING THERE THINGS WERE BEGINING TO CHANGE . a sigh escaped her lips as she took in the view of the balls of rocks still burning bright . ❝ ⸻ The deep and lovely dark ... We'd never see the  stars  without it . ❞

[nexvsvorti]

it's  thanks  to  hope's  vampire  speed  was  she  able  to  save  the  stranger  in  the  first  place.  holding  her  tightly,  the  tribrid  stepped  the  two  of  them  back  onto  the  sidewalk  and  only  then  did  she  release  the  other  once  it  was  safe  to  do  so.  "just  watch  where  you're  going."  unsure  if  she  should  leave  the  other,  hope  studied  her  a  minute  before  offering  to  help.  "do  you  need  some  help?"  though  realistically,  how  much  help  might  they  be  able  to  offer  in  such  an  unfamiliar  city?

Amara was told not to leave the room . Yet it's been days . She was trapped for over 2000+ years as stone and now felt shackled to a room . Unable to listen , the immortal woman stepped out . Realizing how loud it was , the city bustling and always on the go . Not realizing the car BEEPING for her to get out of the way , amara was pulled back into the arms of the other . brown eyes looking at the road as she tried to explain herself . ❝ ⸻ I didn't . that was a car . I just wanted out of that room ... ❞

[nexvsvorti]

hope  could  think  of  at  least  a  dozen  other  places  she  would  rather  have  ended  up.  but  something  about  this  city  must  be  vital  to  the  turning  point  of  the  future  and  she  wonders  just  why  exactly  this  time  and  place  was  where  they  all  turned  up.  but  not  just  them  either,  it  seems.  other  were  pulled  here,  drawn  here,  by  some  force  or  reason  and  she  intends  to  figure  that  out  too.

worse  places  to  be  stuck,  sure.  worse  than  a  sprawling  city  with  millions  of  people.  at  least  they  should  blend  in  pretty  easily.

the  person  before  her  feels  raw  with  grief,  as  if  it  might  be  fresh  or  new  or  something.  hope  can  relate,  can  almost  feel  the  old  wounds  coming  back  to  the  surface  as  they  woke  up  here.  "i  can  think  of  a  few,"  comes  the  bitter  reply  from  the  tribrid.  sure,  there  are  a  dozen  places  she'd  rather  be.  but  there  are  also  a  million  that  could  be  worse,  as  the  other  said.

THIS WAS NOT WHERE SHE EXPECTED TO BE. dawn had been missing her home before even before pulled out of sunnydale and into los angeles. her home had been a person, and no amount of familiar décor could replace either of the two people missing from both their house and life. at least she didn't need to walk by their rooms anymore. "there are worse places to be stuck, i guess."

[nexvsvorti]

you picture a tribrid with the eyes of danielle rose russell. they are non binary, called she/they, and they value family above all else. they blame themself for their imprisonment because they failed to unite the factions until it was too late. the song r.i.p. to my youth by the neightbourhood has echoed their path for 18/49 years. i didn’t say a name, but hope mikaelson popped into your head, didn’t they?

basics.

full name: hope andrea mikaelson

alias: hope marshall

gender: non binary

pronouns: she / her + they / them

date of birth: may 2nd

zodiac: taurus

species: tribrid (witch, werewolf, vampire)

occupation: mikaelson heiress; savior of the world

birthplace: new orleans, lousianna

orientation: bisexual, biromantic + ambiamorous

languages: english, french, louisiana creole, louisiana french, latin, asl

family.

mother: hayley marshall-kenner

father: niklaus mikaelson (birth) & jackson kenner (step)

siblings: marcel gerard (adoptive)

education: salvatore boarding school & mikaelson family

hometown: new orleans, louisiana

current location: mystic falls, va

other relatives: freya mikaelson, finn mikaelson, elijah mikaelson, kol mikaelson, rebekah mikaelson, henrik mikaelson, dahlia, esther, mikael, ansel, keelin malraux, davina claire

connections: josie saltzman, lizzie saltzman, landon kirby, kaleb hawkins, wade rivers, cleo sowande, milton greasley, jed tien, ethan machado, rafael waithe, chris halliwell, wyatt halliwell

mental.

weakness: ptsd, depression, severe abandonment issues

phobias: mild thanatophobia, loss of personal autonomy, mild claustrophobia, being abandoned, letting people down because she wasn't good enough

moral alignment: chaotic good & chaotic neutral ; neutral evil with no humanity

element: fire

positive: independent, resilient, intelligent, dauntless, observant, loyal, selfless

negative: stubborn, sarcastic, possessive, tempered, moody, mild superiority complex, aloof, secretive, unwilling to ask for help

physique.

face claim: danielle rose russell

eye color: blue

hair color: auburn / red

hair type: long and curly; varies in styles

height: 5' 1"

dominant hand: ambidextrous

marks: crescent birthmark on her right shoulder

style: relaxed and edgy; most notable items always seen: hayley’s stone necklace, the mikaelson family crest, and a wishbone necklace

notes.

hope has one tattoo on the back of her neck. it's rarely seen, as the tribrid doesn't often wear their hair up off their neck. it's two sets of initials: K.M. and H.M. for klaus and hayley. hope had gotten these shortly after their deaths, before returning to mystic falls.

hope’s VAMPIRE / HYBRID TEETH are a little different than the normal tvdu vampire. most of her front teeth (apart from the incisors) become longer and pointed, giving her a more deadly and lethal bite. this is also to help her consume as much blood as possible in one bite by opening more points in the flesh of who she drinks from.

hope is 5'1 flat footed but she appears taller because of always wearing heels of some kind. this makes them seem taller than they really are, usually anywhere around 5'3 to 5'5 depending on the shoe.

with no god arc / spear, hope instead shipped the only existing red oak stake to josie saltzman.

read the carrd linked here for powers, weaknesses, and lore about the tribrid.

recap.

after defeating malivore and returning her humanity, hope began to travel to the many places her father once called home. in an effort to be closer to him and learn more about him and her family.

she often makes many return visits to the salvatore boarding school during her traveling time but does not consider herself a student there anymore. after all that happened, she still considers the place home but does not live there full time any longer.

eventually hope returns to new orleans to be with her family and mend the bridges that had started to crumble in the years she shoved them all away. outside of family focus, she also works on her mother's dream of uniting the city together.

hope begins working on tracking down the remaining crescent wolves and reestablishing the pack. by default and lineage, hope becomes their alpha.

[nexvsvorti]

“   vivamus   moriendum   est      [ . . . ]     let   us   live   for   we   must   die.   ”

[nexvsvorti]

nexvsvorti    :    a dependent writing blog as haunted by ghost for cityofhq. this account will contain triggering content and nsfw imagery, viewer discretion is advised. do not interact if not part of the roleplay group.

hope andrea mikaelson    ;    a family's legacy

an in depth study of    :    every king needs an heir, the promise of always and forever, took a level in jerkass, non-human non-binary, surviving trauma, the weight of immortality, tribrid power, blue-and-orange morality, a weapon in an unending war, bearing the sins of our fathers, a mother's sacrifice, a family’s legacy, sugar-and-ice personality, guilt is a fashion accessory, a monster in the shape of a girl, chronic hero syndrome, girlhood vs godhood, protagonist journey to villain, responsibility tied to family bloodlines as a curse, the need to disappear into the trees

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