hayley marshall

pretty little queen the devil himself could not have envisioned a girl that would turn the tide for wolves with simply a lopsided crown and a leather jacket. labonair legacy. lost girl. spitfire incarnate.

[haylefire]

She had been to doctors, voodoo healers, and a witch or two, but nothing so far had been a quick fix for the inordinate amounts of pain and havoc wreaking her body. Her pain was evident in the dip of her brow, the rosiness of her cheeks as she remained flush with fluctuating pain levels. She was a wolf for christ’s sake - they were supposed to heal from nearly everything.

But apparently fallen trees the size of a fully grown elephant were not included in that bit.

So Hayley sat, leg propped up, her hip immobilized as much as she could bear as she wedged it against pillows. Flipping through her scans, looking for any particular point to focus on healing first, she heard the arrival before she glanced their way, “Hey - not the best company today.... but, ya know, pull up a chair if you want to vent.” 

She’d listen though the pain pulsated through her body and gave way in the form of shaking hands every now and again. She was a Queen, she was a wolf - she was a survivor - she had this shit handled. Sort of. 

[haylefire]

tough girl - i’m in pain ( self para)

WHO: Hayley Marshall & Stefan Salvatore ( @savior-salvatore ) WHAT/WHEN: Aftermath of the earthquake WHERE: The Bayou

There’s this saying that every one hears at some point in their life that bends their mind to philosophy over physicality in regards to the knowledge of reality - 

“If a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?”

To Hayley, she could attest, that without a doubt, a falling tree made a crackling sound as it splintered down to its roots. That a quake like the one wreaking havoc on the city’s epicenter could radiate out into the Bayou, and could shake the tallest spruce, the meatiest base, and send it tumbling haphazardly cutting through the air like a saw blade.

She heard the branch before it fell, a small click of a break, before it hit her skull on impact. Splitting a wound on her head between her brow and her hair line, Hayley felt the warmth as blood trickled down her face.

Perfect, she thought. Coming to the Bayou, with a newly acquired vampire friend, to help her pack and getting injured in the process was simply the icing on the cake of a shit day. “Just another day in paradise,” she muttered sardonically with a glimpse over her shoulder Stefan’s way.

As the blood continued to spill, harnessing the power of her sense of smell to the forefront, it nearly eclipsed her sense of sound as the final synapse of the trees’ roots snapped far below the Earth’s surface. The tree barreling down in an instant, with a surefire shot right into its intended target - HER. She couldn’t pull her eyes away, her sour mood now turning to purely ignited fear and reaction. She couldn’t flash forward in wolf form fast enough to escape.

There was no out for her, but there was for Stefan.

For in an instant her hand, with all her supernatural force of strength, had pushed him out of the way - his body barreling across the Bayou, to what she hoped was safer air space than her current line of site. 

The same could be said for a tarnished body lying broken and bloody in the brush, lost in a world of unconscious disbelief and utter unknowing pain. The sounds of bones cracking were much like the splintering of a tree - roots ripped from the Earth, sinew cut from bone.

Crushed under the weight of said fallen tree, would anyone hear the girls’ screams in a Bayou that tended to echo the sound?

[haylefire]

maliasinstnct:

Malia watched Hayley with thoughtful eyes. This wasn’t a normal interaction between the two of them which was generally riddled with Malia trying to get at more of who the young woman was before her queenly duties had taken over her life. Instead, Malia did feel like a beta of sorts. Though on this rare occasion, she didn’t have any interest in fighting it. 

She realized by now that the fact that Hayley hadn’t rushed away from her and to the bayou, that Hayley must have an even bigger heart than Malia once thought. Compassion had always been a part of their relations as Hayley had been there for Malia from the very beginning of this insane human adventure. But in this specific instance, Malia could tell that she was sticking by Malia longer than she should be. Hayley was an intrinsically good person who was already shaping up to be a great alpha, never leaving any wolf behind. It was a little scary to know that Hayley cared that much, but then again, she was happy to know that the queen in the bayou had a place for Malia in her heart, as selfish as that was of young lone werecoyote. Her legs kept moving towards the bayou as she knew this couldn’t last. 

A soft smile touched Malia’s lips again before fading away as she looked around at the destruction left behind, even the destruction that was still occurring as different buildings were still giving way. But Hayley’s joke had been a nice bit of comic relief. She nodded as Hayley spoke on, the alpha offering her strength beyond her presence, but now in words as well. “Yeah I know.” And Malia did know all of what Hayley was saying to be true. She was just tired. The destruction around them making her feel as though all of her progress in this human world was all for naught in the end. It was times like these she missed being a coyote. “I take what I can get like I said, it’s just sometime it gets to be a lot. I don’t know I’m just having a moment–or something–but I’ll get over it.” She shook her head at herself, biting her lip, flicking her head towards Hayley again.

Malia raised a brow, wondering what the older wolfs point was in that statement. Did she expect Malia to help rebuild the bayou with her? Because she just wasn’t sure that was going to happen. These streets were far more her home now than the bayou was. But Hayley felt like home in a way too, “Do you think that I’m unkind and that I won’t help people? I can do more than humans can and I don’t enjoy hearing screams and crying in my ears–or smelling blood. So simply out of the fact that I can’t stand those things, I’m going to help people. I mean, I’m not always that kind. But I don’t need kindness to be helpful.” 

Feelings of heartbreak and destruction flooded her senses like none of the previous storms had done. It all reminded her of the last day she’d spent with her family, like a glaring neon sign flashing at her wildly. She’d do what she could to get it to go away and even ease her guilty conscience over her sisters death.

"You’re gonna be fine, ‘Lia, I’m gonna make sure of it. And you know, if you ever need a release and maybe even a rush - though I won’t play with any more teenage heads they’re too influential -” she teased remember the night of the party fondly. “I’m only one tiny, inconsequential invisible line, away from the city. You’re welcome to the Bayou anytime - or well, what’s left of it.” 

She knew Malia was still trying to find her place, her home, after years spent on all fours meandering through the mud. It was an adjustment and it was Hayley’s call that had lain the beast to rest and allowed the girl to rise. On shaky feet, however, which left Hayley feeling obligated to help her out. Through any means necessary, as obligation had now become a yearning need. Call it her underestimated need to mother hen, or older sister, but either way, Hayley was always going to watch out for this coyote. 

She scoffed, “Of course not!” Hayley chastised, her words not coming across correctly. “You’re way more kind than you should be for having gone through what you’ve been through,” she sighed. “Hell, even your snark is welcome to people like me, reminds me that we’re not all having our best days. And so be it, be kind, be bitchy, be fierce. Be whatever you need to be to make it through the day and gain a friend or two along the way. Hey, I’m no judge or jury, you know this.”

She was the last to judge - she had too much blood on her hands to even spit a single comment.

“Good, we’re gonna get you all set up then you can use whatever feelings are coursing through you right now to channel them into cleaning up this shit show.” Hayley squeezed her friends’ hand, a promise in her fingertips. She knew that emotions ran high in those still struggling between two legs and four, so she figured that Malia was having a hard time honing them in with all the sights, sounds, and smells simmering into their senses. 

One thing at a time though - control could be taught after decisions and actions were made. 

There were plans being crafted in the neurons of the Queen’s brain as they began their walk. First - get Malia somewhere safe. Second - figure out what the fuck was going on in the Bayou. Third - find out where the fuck Jackson went to. Fourth - see if she could borrow a Hale or two to borrow some brawn. and Fifth - drink to forget about half of em. 

( *! ENDING. )

[haylefire]

savior-salvatore:

Stefan took her words at face value, if she wasn’t in pain, he couldn’t put too worry on trying to disprove it. He stepped backwards, pulling the girl in closer to him as bits of debris begun to rain down. Alleyways weren’t the best place to be hiding as the world rumbled beneath them. “You know that’s not that bad of reason to not feel anything. Now, I don’t know about you but we have to move, alright?” He didn’t know why he’d felt so damn inclined to make sure she was okay but to hell with reason now, right? 

“Ah, thank you for being more precise with your words. I wasn’t following,” he chuckled softly. At least she still had a sense of humor instead of falling to shit; the last thing I need is to start playing therapist. I cant’t deal with my own shit. His thoughts humored him. “I see you’ve got a handle on all the damage control. I feel safer already.” 

Stefan shoot his head, he didn’t care about the ache that riddled his side. All that mattered right now was getting the innocent people in her pack out of the bayou. “I never said I’d be a good liar. It’s fine.” He swatted away the thought with a furrowed brow. 

“Hayley, we’re wasting time.” Stefan retorted with a huff. The last thing he wanted was to be vulnerable anymore so than he already felt. Her expression wasn’t wasted on him; he knew she wouldn’t move unless he’d explained. With a begrudged expression, he’d lifted his shirt gently, the splints of wood embedded too far into his skin reddened. “Just a little splinter. I’m a big boy, let’s go.”

The protection he offered, though her self-obsessed independence didn’t want to permit it, was surprisingly welcome. Not that she had much time to protest as he shielded her from falling debris; her hand clutching his shirt before shifting back to steady her own form.

She wanted to comment on her need to always be right and headstrong, defiantly so, but she didn’t. She simply chuckled, nodded, and then moved on. He already knew that much of her from their meetings, there was no need to remind him. 

Her focus was attuned to his injury, the ideal that she would always look out for others a prominent piece of her Queen-given crown. “Wasting time or not, Stefan, just - take it easy okay? Your stubborn ass can follow me to the Bayou ALL you want. Help lift things once you’ve healed, not a second before, got it?”

Her concern was evident in her sped up mannerisms and disheveled brow. She wouldn’t see him get hurt further trying to help her people because his stubborn Salvatore nature wanted to spite him. She reached a hand out, ripped a splinter quickly from an open wound, watching as blood pooled out. “Do yourself a favor and start plucking those out while we walk. If not - well I’ll have to get creative and start ripping them all out myself.” She bullied him kindly, a smirk to her lips that spoke of her follow through should he not get moving on what she told him. 

He wouldn’t heal until they were worked out, and Hayley would ensure he took every precaution to seize them along the way. With a toss of her head, she nodded East, heading to the outskirts of town, where inevitably, the Earth had likely sunk into the Mississippi. 

There was going to be one hell of a mess to clean up, once again, and Hayley would take any offered help she could get. Even from a vampire...

( *! ENDING. )

[watson-emma]

“There’s a fire burning in my bones.” {insp}

[rxbekahmikaelson]

@haylefire @littlestxwitch @courageouscami

[hayleymarshalldaily]

[haylefire]

savior-salvatore:

Stefan dodged the falling debris, shrugging off his jacket. “Are you sure?” He questioned gently, knowing how prideful Hayley could be. She wasn’t a damsel in distress but a hero in her own right; but even in the low moments everyone needed a break. Today was that day. “Clearly, we both are but it doesn’t make us invincible. This place is laced with wolfsbane and vervain. You and I both know that the witches of the quarter coupled with the hunters–they made sure to pave their city with failsafes.” He offered her his jacket, a shield from the falling bits of glass and rock. “I haven’t gotten a handle on my brother yet but I know if anyone will come out of this without harm, it’s him. I’m fine…” he mumbled. He’d gotten a few sharpened splinters jammed into his side, he’d pick them out as soon as he knew she was safe. Why in the hell would he care about a wolf? There was something about her; the kindred spirit held many secrets and pain…a pain he could understand. He followed her gaze towards the bayou, knowing she probably had a pack fending off the elements. “What can I do to help–who’s in the bayou?”

"Positive,” she nudged him with her shoulder, and pushed him aside as more debris fell around them. She wondered how her wolves would feel that she felt a need to protect a vampire. She cowered down, shaking some remnants off her boots as she shrugged. “Besides, I’ve had enough booze to numb any pain I would be feeling.” She teased with a soft smile, but wasn’t entirely dishonest. She’d still be in Rosseau’s living it up if she had been literally shaken out the door. 

As his jacket was offered she curled into it, cupping the collar softly with crossed hands. “Thanks, Stefan. And I know what you mean, I meant safe and alright in the sense that you have all arms, legs, and sarcasm attached, not that we’re getting out of this with a free pass to glory days.” New Orleans was far too complicated and sadistic to ever let either of their kinds off easy. “And from how much I’ve got on you so far, I’d say, yep - sarcasm’s right where it should be.” The Quarter tended to remind Hayley that pure sarcasm of her own was her best survival tactic. And go-to deflection when conversations reflected on her. 

She shook her head with a laugh but it dropped as quick as it came, a tinge hitting her nostril that spelled out from the surrounding sights, sounds, and smells. Their was metal in the air, both in the form of blood and burning buildings. But this, this was closer -- it was on his jacket. She could smell it as she pulled it closer to her form.

Sticking her tongue out to think of the best tactic before she spoke, she pointed to him, “And you would be what I call a bad liar.... you’re hurt.” 

She pushed herself closer fully ready to inspect his form if he didn’t fess up, “And you’re not going to distract me by the shit in the Bayou until we get you fixed up. Two can play the deflection game, Stefan, and I’m better at it than you every will be.” She wasn’t letting him off that easy, he needed to heal if he was going to help her at all. 

[phoebefashionarchives]

[haylefire]

maliasinstnct:

Malia didn’t want to leave Hayley’s side. There was that sense of comfort burrowed deep within her coyote self that pulsated while the older wolf was around. It was interesting to Malia how deep her trust issues went, but that they tended to apply less to Hayley than most, and Cora. Malia hoped Cora was okay too. She wondered if it had to with the fact that she was a Lebonair, and simply instinctually drawn to the woman’s alpha presence because of her familial ties. Or if it was simply that she’d been the person to pull her from her coyote form and seen the girl at her most vulnerable state. Either which way, Malia wasn’t going to fend off the older wolf at this time. 

The earthquake had scared Malia. A feeling she wasn’t all that used to seeing as she prided herself on not allowing herself to be in positions of fear. But this was a monstrously destructive event that could’ve taken her out in minutes flat with no remorse and no one to be bothered. Deep down, she was still just a little lonely coyote wolf who’d seen more than her fair share of destruction. So why was she so freaked out? She should be used to this by now right? As soon as Hayley left her, she’d resume her usual life of survival and keep on keeping on. But for now she was letting herself be comforted. 

She was happy when Hayley kept up a nice conversation instead of rushing off to the bayou where Malia wouldn’t feel nearly as comfortable going to. But she also knew that if ever there were a time when her wolves needed her, it would be now. “Maybe not fix it physically, but I know that they will find strength in your presence.” She certainly did and Malia wasn’t even in her pack. 

“I don’t know. This one seems worse than the last two storms. I guess this isn’t really considered a storm though. Do you think that we will ever just get to be happy? Or will we spend our whole lives fighting?” She asked almost absent-mindedly, knowing she already knew the answer. This quake had certainly shifted more than just the ground beneath her and she was still recovering from the shock. 

At the small quip she offered a soft smile to Hayley, “Yeah well it’s certainly not a bad idea I guess. What do you usually do when the bayou is getting rebuilt?” She questioned as she started to move her feet towards the bayou, knowing she couldn’t take up too much of the queen’s time. 

Hayley couldn’t help but feel contrite that she hadn’t simply run head first to the Bayou the moment the quake shook every timber and tinder of New Orleans to the ground. But this city had become her home, as much as the Bayou had, and this girl - this coyote - had molded herself quietly and unbeknownst into a form of a new pack. Of a new ally and girl under Hayley’s protection. Though neither spoke of what the friendship meant other than the simply underlying trust and support factor, the bonds were running deeper than either could pinpoint at this time.

So Hayley stayed, to get Malia somewhere safe before she tended to her wolves. The Bayou would still be in shambles when she got there.

Picking up a piece of a busted street lamp post, Hayley slapped it into her hand. Something sturdy that had survived among all the other wreckage. “I’m gonna say we’re about 5 billion steps past any form of normalcy and regeneration in the Quarter. This one shake up is going to take some time.” She had a flair for sarcasm, and it was at a high note with the shit storm they had now been dealt.  It was a coping mechanism for years spent losing everything that mattered. Her default setting. “BUT, that horribly depressive thing being said, yes, I think we can be happy even in the wake of this shit show. I mean, look, we’re alive... we made it... and we’re born fighters that get to live another day. Win for us because that means we’re still here to make sure others stay on their feet.” 

Hayley quirked a dimpled cheek, “Learning curve to ‘Lia, comin atcha - being kind and helping others is not a weakness.” Though the girl had been rogue and weary, Hayley knew she had a soft spot for others deep down in her little confused, and still learning, coyote heart. Hayley would make sure she brought that out in her as much as she brought out the party girl. 

[haylefire]

maliasinstnct:

Malia looked around her for the first time, really noticing how damaged the city was. She didn’t even want to think about what might be happening at her place which she’d reconstructed twice already with the Halloween storm and the flood. “I take what I can get.” She answered back with a shrug, finally meeting her eyes once more. The sounds and smells hitting her nostrils as time went on only became that much more overwhelming. She was glad Hayley was here.

“You should go check on the bayou. I’m sure they’d like to see your face.” She offered a soft smile to the older wolf. Maybe it was just the fact that Hayley had been the first person she’d seen with human eyes, but she knew the sight of her right now was comforting to her. So it must be even more so with the wolves of the bayou that call her their queen. “They need you.”

Hands full often became empty as quick as the luck was drawn. New Orleans had a terrible habit of taking everything away from you in the blink of an eye, or the shake of a fault line. It was that easy. One day, you were built, the next day, tragedy broke you down. And the third day? Well, the third day, which they all become far too accustomed to, was the day you r e b u i l t. 

It was a vicious cycle, but it spoke of the volumes these two girls had on survival. 

It was more than an instinct, it was their greatest strength. Bull-headed and brave to the end. 

Seeing Malia alive, and safe, as far as she could tell and smell, meant more to Hayley than she initially thought it would. This girl had become quite a large part of Hayley’s life since that midnight howl in the Bayou moonlight. Seeing her, it lifted a weight from her chest, and settled her features, “I’m not sure my face will do much to fix the damage,” her eyes carried from brick to light pole and every damaged item and person in between before focusing on her friend. “How many times are we going to have to rebuild? At this rate, I’m thinking about taking Jack on his offer to learn carpentry...” A soft joke with burdened eyes. 

It was devastation and cruel fate at its finest - no one in this city deserved this. 

[haylefire]

marcellusxgerard:

The truth of the matter was this — things were much more easily said than done.

He knew that applied to Hayley, and how easy it would be for her to find her footing in the bayou - let alone in the high-politics of his deceptive Quarter. But it also applied to himself; to how feasible it’d be for him to actually cede that trust that he spoke of so easily - over to the wolves. Even if it was only a boon reserved for the bouncing bundle of misfortune he’d saved so many years ago. He hadn’t so much as tried trusting any of them since the attack, since the betrayal that had brought hatred to his doorstep. He’d kept the lot of them at an arm’s length, with a bunch of new, tyrannical rules between them and himself - and it was easier that way. How easy would it be to change?…

“Ohoh… Well I’m a  L e o . Not sure if that dooms this whole thing, or seals the deal for ya.” Marcel grinned, knowing precious little of star-signs but recognizing dry humour as soon as he heard it. “I’m with you on coffee and bourbon though, here’s hoping we can make use of both for future conversations.” Though it was delivered nonchalantly enough, there was promise to his words. It implied there would be a future conversation, more than one if she was lucky. It hinted at a  c h a n c e,  though not one he was inclined to give any more clearly. He snorted when she admitted that she didn’t know what to do with the life that was granted her, “That makes two of us, Hayley. Hell, I’m still stuck on what t’ call you. Andrea? Hayley? Pain in the ass?” Marcel teased right back. Apparently, she was the latter for Jackson as well, though he didn’t know if that was good news for him, or whether it merely implied more trouble from the Bayou at his backdoor. But Hayley was fierce and loyal too, if she was to be believed. To pack, to new family. Maybe they shared that in common.

“Pleasantly surprised is good. If the rumours were to be believed you’d be having this conversation with the Devil, and I — with a ragtag usurper.” She wasn’t the only one who lent an ear to the many rumours floating around the Crescent City.

The line between friend and foe was blurring before her eyes; an unsure feeling of re-building, or even establishing as it were, bridges that would take them to some form of camaraderie. She could imagine, she could hope that being on Marcel’s good side would do wonders for her wolves, but in reality, the outcome was far off from being understood. She wasn’t the baby whisked from the cradle, and surprisingly, he wasn’t as tyrannous as she had initially was led to believe. 

But she was learning. And maybe that was his whole point. Maybe, he could teach her a thing or two.

She nodded her head, the acquiescent agreement fresh in her mind that the two zodiacs would either bump heads or build bridges. “Oh, well if we’re talking claws, I’m pretty sure I got a one-up on the scenario here.” Her words were cavalier with an air of teasing, her reaction the same, but she was just as feisty as a Leo, so they had their work cut out for them. 

But she would play, and in time, she would fall on one side of his trust spectrum or the other. And thanks to him, that was a decision mostly balanced in her own hands, with her own wit, and her own willingness to see what all the fuss was about when Davina talked of him so fondly. “You might be a vamp, but you can count me in for a good shot at it, this, whatever it is. If it can help my wolves, I’m ready to scale any ivory tower you throw at me” she smiled, taking a sip of the offered bourbon before deciding to down the entirety of the glass. 

She stood, sliding from the bar stool as she pulled her leather jacket tight, flipping her hair out from its’ collar, “Let’s hold off on the usurper, I ain’t stealing anyone’s title I’ve got my own, and it is 2016, so ....” She couldn’t help but get one last shot in before she began her exit. “The women can rule just as ruthless as their King counterparts.” And she would, for if it was for her wolves and her family, Hayley would do just about anything she needed to. 

With a roll of her eyes and a small chuckle at how odd this unexpected visit had become, she set the money on the table to cover the drinks and tip - it was a small gesture, but a thank you for the discussion, and the enlightenment. She had a feeling it wouldn’t be long until she saw him again, but this time, she would keep the snarling at bay. 

“It’s Hayley - just... Hayley.... and thank you... for the drinks.”

It was the most she could say. She was never a girl to rely on others, her survival instincts still keeping a hold on her pride, but her light smile before exiting spoke volumes that the ‘thank you’ meant more than drinks.

It was a thank you for a potential new beginning... as long as she grasped it with a whole and willing heart.

( *! ENDING. )

[haylefire]

wily-mikaelson:

Kol wasn’t running from anything, it was more so he was running towards. He wasn’t typically a helpful person, but his home was now falling into ruins. There hadn’t been an earthquake in New Orleans in ages, and it was clear that none were prepared for this. Of course, the man went to check the places he frequented first, such as his home, the cemetery, and the bar.

Not paying attention, he didn’t mean to stumble into the dark-haired woman with a frantic expression. “Woah, sorry darling.” He apologized as he stepped back, hands having automatically gone to her shoulders to make sure she was steady as well. It wouldn’t do to have knocked some stranger down. “Are you alright?” He looked her up and down, not seeing any obvious wounds.

As if she hadn’t felt unstable enough with trembling roads beneath her and falling bricks near and far, she was bulldozed by a rather solid scrawny body. She snarled, as she gripped onto the building to her left, claws unhinged for balance, “Calling me darling doesn’t make up for your lack of coordination. She looked at his hands on her shoulder, before shrugging and shaking it off, retracting her claws. “Look, I’m fine, just watch out where you’re going, the quakes are causing enough destruction on their own.” 

[aliciavikand]

[haylefire]

savior-salvatore:

Stefan could sense the shift in the world, his body ready on alert for what was coming. He’d sensed the pain in wake of the rumble. He’d help firm, trying to ride out the small shock. Stepping out into the open, his eyes observed the destruction that paved the sidewalks. He couldn’t help but feel like he’d been punched in the gut. All this destruction with nothing to show for it. Nature was cruel without conviction.

He’d sprinted through the streets, dodging the falling debris. As he went, he tried to pull as many people who were still with them out of harms way. Jesus, can things get any worse?

Stefan stopped in the middle of the street spotting the young wolf in the distance. No matter what he did, it seemed he would always cross paths with one, huh? “Are you okay?” He called to her, closing the distance between them. She looked as white as a ghost, like someone had stolen the life from her.

Her hand still gripped the red brick of the alleyway outside Rosseau’s as a tremor quarreled to a slower speed under her feet. Her claws attempting to recede as she regained her balance. “I - I’m fine, Stefan. Just getting my sea legs.” She attempted for a joke, blaming her unbalance on bourbon, though she doubted highly it would cause the quake she felt in the pit of her stomach looking out onto the despair. “I’m better off than most of these people, luckily enough, which is something I don’t say often.” That was until she caught a peek at the Bayou; she begged for less destruction, though knew her luck was momentary. “How did you fair? Is your brother okay? Are you okay?” Caring for a vampire was not high on her list of priorities when ideas of her pack flitted into her consciousness, but for some reason, Stefan got under her skin, and she was learning to care for a vampire that wasn’t simply Elijah Mikaelson. 

[haylefire]

maliasinstnct:

The street was filled with destruction far worse than the flood or the Halloween storm combined. Malia saw the panic and fear on everyone’s face. The smell of freshly drawn blood filled her nostrils from every direction. She wanted to be surprised or scared but she was less than such. All she could feel was defeat. What was the point in trying to survive when life was just going to keep fucking you over every damn time. This was just another blow. Another ‘fuck you’ from life itself. 

Malia didn’t even want to think about the state of her shack after this. She prayed that her few possessions would be salvageable and that she could retrieve the blankets at least as it was getting colder. But her hope on that front was slim to none. 

Gazing out onto across the streets, Hayley’s scent caught her attention through it all. She scanned the area finding the wolf there. The woman looked more panicked than Malia thought she would. Wasn’t Hayley used to life’s crap by now? “At least we know we’re both good right.” She spoke softly as she made her way up behind the wolf. 

Ears perking at the familiar voice had a soft smile gracing Hayley’s face in relief. A deep breath left her lungs as she realized Malia was safe - her friend, ally, and newest near sister was free of harm. As if either of their lives needed anymore drama. “Yeah, we’re safe ‘Lia, but the rest of New Orleans -” she tossed her hand out to gesture at the destruction, “not so much.” 

It was her heart that had hurt the most, in fear of what the Bayou must look like if skyscrapers and concrete could be cast down so quickly. Trees would be nothing, and houses made of pine would be splintered.

“I’m nervous to go to the Bayou, I - I can’t imagine an ounce of the destruction that must be out there.” Homes of her people that were just rebuilt were likely cast down once again. 

[fuckyeahoriginals]

[haylefire]

EVENT: Earthquake at the Louisiana fault line ( x ) SETTING: The French Quarter leaving Rosseau’s

And the walls kept tumbling down In the city that we love Grey clouds roll over the hills Bringing darkness from above

We were caught up and lost in all of our vices In your pose as the dust settles around us

The reverberations were felt all the way to her bones as unsteady legs regained balance as an iron-clad wolf grip laid upon the concrete wall of Rosseau’s exterior. Glass scattered, rubble in her wake, dead bodies littering the streets under crushing circumstances (literally). 

Hayley swallowed before her mouth ran agape - dry - as her eyes ran over the destruction outside the walls of a hallowed bar. She had seen the lights flicker, crashes sound out, the smell of blood even through the shot-out glass from the tremors as she had been sipping her usual. A chill time out had soon turned to chaos and had her running for the hills - not in fear, but in the hopes she could help. And of course, she had to get to her pack (both chosen and purposeful). To Jackson. To Derek. To Cora. To all the wolves; her people. 

But as her hand remained held onto the wall, her eyes continued to widen as people screamed, as voices called out and scattered hoping to find loved ones...

It was no longer a pity party for the wolf Queen, it was an innate instinct to protect and preserve, and she had to help where she could.