#p: gotcha

[heavensentx]

Gotcha!||Annalise && Jack

@deathbeckons

Annalise took her job very seriously.

She was a proud Praesul and she wanted to guide those awakened Nephillim to their highest potential! However, that was far easier said that done because half the time the awakened never wanted to be found. It got extremely frustrating sometimes. How was she supposed to do her job if they wouldn't make themselves known to her? Of course, she was able to feel when they were around, but they never were it seemed. It was like they were avoiding her or something.

Annie had felt the awakening of a new Nephillim one day and since then, she had been on high alert for this person. She would know them once she was near them. And the only way to know if she was around them was to wander. So that's what she did. Day in and day out (when she wasn't working her shifts at The Shack), she wandered through the city, hoping to come across this lost soul. She would go from side to side, city to city. Today's location was her personal favorite, Silver City. But she was probably biased.

She moved through the city, her chocolate colored eyes shifting around like a mad woman, trying to sense this person. Oh, come on. She thought to herself, They have to show up at some point, right? They have to be kinda curious, right? Hopefully soon she would find them. This was getting tiring.

[allroundlostcause]

gotcha

@nowimamxnster

Alaric decided early on that the best way to find the elusive Hayley Marshall was to find the packs. But the packs had scattered, somewhat; which was smart, on their part, but frustrating as hell. Places that were known grounds and had been for decades, sometimes longer, were empty, or under the guardianship of only a couple of leftovers.

Frankly, Alaric was sick of being growled at.

The only relief he had was that so far, no one had made any dramatic overtures for power. Which only meant the time was getting closer.

He had to admire Hayley. Staying off the radar was hard enough. Staying off the radar with a toddler and while searching for a cure for, oh, call it an even dozen different poisons – that was a challenge. But he was sick of trying to chase her. Paranoia was keeping her safe, great. It wasn’t giving him much of a chance to help her, though.

Might have taken him five years, if not for a fantastic piece of luck; of all the gas stations in all the lands, they pulled up at the same one, at the same time. Maybe it was more like fate. After all, the Tahoe had plenty of gas.

Alaric slipped a GPS tracker under the bumper as he approached from behind, in case she took off again.

“You’re a difficult person to catch,” he said. “We have mutual friends, and you need help. We can skip the whole teeth-baring thing, if you want, ’m sick of it. Can we talk?”