The Immortal Witch

Kale Darcy Alva Harman Vampiric Witch | Immortal | Appears 27, 312 years old | Rogue Witch + Pure of Heart → 2152 - Corrupted Soul → 20,213 "Ate the bread that once was stone. Fell from a cliff, never broke a bone. Bowed down to get the kings overthrown. And I’m all alone and the fire grows. And I’m all alone and the fire grows."

[sage-lancaster]

Having been in a sour mood for the past week or so, the last thing that Sage wanted was for Alva to strut up into her life yet again and annoy her until the point of feeling murderous. Her magic crackled within her, mixing with her anger. He had brought up her childhood, a touchy topic to say the least, and now there was a threat on his tongue, spilling off of it and into the air. The blonde was furious, her fingers twitching as she stared at Alva. “I said leave me alone!” she exclaimed, her eyes narrowing into slits as her arm thrust out. She wasn’t sure why she did it, but it was almost as if her magic had a life of its own, a mind of its own, and it was controlling her. And Alva too—as he was now lifted into the air, hanging there.

[witch-zero]

It happened too fast for Alva to see coming. It's been a little while since he's been face-to-face with a telekinetic and if asked what it felt like to be lifted up, he'd compare it to hovering. The air was crackling with electricity. He was lifted off the soft ground, long legs dangling.

[sage-lancaster]

"My childhood has nothing to do with anything. Why do you go get a stake driven through your heart as you’re burned at the pyre?"

[witch-zero]

That sounds more fitting for the loose end i'm looking straight at. Whatdoyasay? Wanna reenact the demise of your forefathers?

[sage-lancaster]

"I don’t understand how the police department can be so incompetent. There’s a murderer on the loose and they’re practically doing nothing! We might as all well prepare our funerals."

[witch-zero]

Do you always flatter yourself this much, or was it some kind of fucked up childhood that entitled you to start this conversation?

[witch-zero]

Why are you staring at me weird?

[victoriansaint]

I have no idea what you’re on about.

[witch-zero]

It's a song about men falling out the sky, hence the name "Raining Men".

[witch-zero]

Why are you staring at me weird?

It’s not my fault I can hear you sing ” It’s Raining Men” from down the street. Someone's obviously been watching Vampire's Suck. I have to see this.

[asfsjkfhsdjkfh-deactivated20160]

[witch-zero]

““In each of us, two natures are at war – the good and the evil. All our lives the fight goes on between them, and one of them must conquer. ”

[tvd-scenes-deactivated20140728]

[witch-zero]

Without blood to halt or reverse the damage, his body aged until desiccating, all the while he was still… living.

[rabbitsteaparty]

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[dannondaydreams]

OMG IM SCREAMING

[sage-lancaster]

"That you know of. There aren’t only two vampiric witches in the world, Alva. The trait may be completely and utterly recessive, near extinction, but there have been documentations of other vampiric witches. First off, Helena was Bulgarian, not Russian. Therefore, two completely different cultures and mythologies. A real werewolf only tore her to pieces because she had murdered its entire pack, and the pack’s allies, and this werewolf caught her mid-shift which everybody with half a brain knows is the most vulnerable moment in a werewolf’s life. They’re strong in human form, strong in wolf form, but mid-shift they can be as good as dead,” Sage corrected him, sensing a few dead birds and squirrels nearby, as well as the graveyard that was within her view—behind Alva. “Second, the killings only started happening recently. As I’ve told you before, it’s something supernatural. Something not-human. And you’re as inhumane as it gets, so, no, I’m not naturally accusing you. I’m putting pieces together in my mind that fit with the evidence given and knowing your history and your behavior you’re the likely UnSub. Not saying you are the UnSub, but everybody has to start somewhere.” 

[witch-zero]

"You do know those documentaries are based off of me, correct?" Alva approached Sage with a mute blandness on his face, almost tempting her to try something. "I only met Helena once, and to further argue about her, witches who specialize in lycanthropy are nowhere as powerful as their lycanthrope counterparts. While that is true about the mid-shift, lycanthropic witches change into wolves and only wolves. They can't turn humans, and they aren't supernaturally stronger than a real wolf, meaning they aren't stronger than werewolves. So unless Helena was also a hunter and possessed an arsenal of silver, she couldn't have killed an entire pack and its allies. Even I couldn't pull a stunt like that with the vampires without a hitch, and i'm supernaturally strong. So don't go bragging about things you don't know the whole story on." The whole speech radiated sarcastically, but it wasn't meant to be an argument about a witch who would never live up to the infamy of Alva Harman, it was the closest thing to a hint he'd ever given to anyone in his life. It was like a hidden message to Sage, and the message was this: 'I don't see why you didn't ask me in the first place. Instead of going to books written centuries after the fact and rumors and bullshit rumors. I'm the only one who can tell you. I've been around a long time.' "I'll be going now." He said, abruptly ending their conversation. "I've got business of my own to take care of." He tossed a devastating grin over his shoulder. "Don't wait up."

[sage-lancaster]

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. Alva Harman, vampiric witch, blah, blah, blah. It’s honestly nothing special. You’re not the only witch to practice vampirism. Just like Helena Kostantinova wasn’t the only witch to practice lycanthropy,” she responded, waving her hand in the air as she turned around to face him. “But you’re seriously telling me you didn’t kill those witches? Like I’m going to believe that. You’ve got serial killer written all over you, not to mention the very detailed past I’ve read about. Why the fuck did you kill them? For some petty revenge scheme?” Sage waited, eyebrows raised. “Well? I mean, I highly doubt the grimoire was lying when it said that those witches killed and buried you alive. Remember: you’re supposed to be six feet under.”

[witch-zero]

"There has been another vampiric witch, yes, but vampirism is such an unnatural and rarely mastered power, that there's only been one other documented case of it. Which was five hundred years before my date of birth." He said, scraping a brow. "And bravo, you continue to know the identities of all this world's infamous witches." The immortal witch applauded, looking around as if to encourage an invisible crowd. "Helena Kostantinova was a no one. She was a Russian witch who could turn herself into a wolf. You want to know how she died? A real werewolf tore her to pieces." Alva said, as if Sage were stupid at learning a lesson. "Like I said, I didn't do it. I've been living in this town for a year and not once did you assume Alva Harman had something to do with the murders done by our resident serial killer." He shook his head. "But now that you're aware of my true identity you're naturally accusing me of being the one responsible when the truth is, there's a new predator on the loose." He licked his lips.

[sage-lancaster]

"You’ve got a shit ton of explaining to do, witchy bitch," she called out, standing in the midst of the park knowing her new vampiric witch acquaintance could probably hear her. “‘Cause I think I’m about to head on over to the police station and give them a little tip as to who killed those people."

[witch-zero]

"Tragic about those witches. Not to make a grey cloud grayer, but I didn't do that." He answered, revealing to have been standing only eight paces behind her. He was smiling, amused by her. As if he was watching his favorite TV show. Like a cat playing with his mouse, he was closing the space between them. "But you do know who you are threatening?" She was incredibly stupid to threaten him. Now he might kill her just to shut her up. Alva was going to swat Sage like a fly and then mutilate her corpse the like the girls just to keep up appearances.

[steviebuchanans-deactivated2016]

[witch-zero]

Perks of being Vampiric, superhuman strength.

[wickedimir-deactivated20141216]

As she turned around, some of her sisters eyed her in protest but she simply gave them a look of pain and that was all it took. She didn’t care but to her sisters, she needed to look like did. Her eyebrows instinctively rose when a pair of eyes met hers and suspicion was written all over her face. Though the man held no familiarity to her, there was something odd, as if the two were somehow connected. Her magic was buzzing, telling her to be aware of the fellow witch. Not afraid, but cautious. Calculatingly eyeing the figure coming her direction, she let her wolf catch his scent in hopes of piecing together what made the man hold such an effect on her. Unfortunately, failing. Did she know him? Had she met him? She didn’t know, but she was sure the answer was no. “Enjoying the view, love? You don’t seem so shocked… Mind explaining?”

[witch-zero]

Tension should've slid up the witch's neck as he came face to face with one of his female descendants, but it didn't. A part of his soul was being touched by her, that his genes ran so strong through her, like she was somehow a woman he desired to know, but that barely scratched the surface of his desire to kill her. She was the enemy, and enemies are supposed to be defeated. If this amazement wasn't enough to stop this vendetta the entire year he spent watching her, observing her, stalking her, it wouldn't now as they finally spoke. But with what he did to her 'sisters'—the equivalent of punching a hole through someone's drywall—her death was the last thing he was planning. Why? Because it would seem too forced now, an idea that had him snorting as he had thought back to the times he had been a reckless killing machine only centuries ago. If there was a good thing that came out of being mummified remains for 162 years, it was being rid of any reckless; he now was the smarter sort. Alva wasn't a man of direct assault. Instead he liked to nasty things. Sneaky things. "No." Plain and simple. No. Nothing like, 'No, it's just a horrible sight' or 'I can't believe they're dead.' just... No. "And there's been so much death in this town you can't help but begin to be unaffected by it."

[sparkledisneydreaming-blog]

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[kyutijoonie-blog]

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[witch-zero]

The slaughter of Gamma Nu Omega Sorority House.

[wickedimir-deactivated20141216]

Among the crowd that occupied Gamma Nu Omega sorority house stood a witch, radiating an aura that was neither threatening nor welcoming. Cries uttered from left and right, a certain nonchalant could be read through her expression. Should she be crying of the loss, praying to a deity to avenge the person who took her sisters’ lives away? Probably. But to her, they were all just numbers. Figures. Indeed, the ordinary folk would find the reality cold and inhuman, that life and death must be reduced to numbers, but technically that is how wars are won and lost: through numbers and comparisons. My gun is bigger than your gun. My soldiers fight better than your soldiers. My army has more money than your army, and so on and so forth. That is the case for your run-of-the-mill war. Lydia found herself facing that same dilemma. She didn’t care for the girls that died nor did she miss them, but she did need them. If she wanted to cleanse Bindlebrim of it’s humans, then she needed numbers on her side. She sighed and turned around, figuring she needed a couple hours before going back to her sorority house.

[witch-zero]

Despite being extremely infuriated over his perfect little spy Rhine Ellery going missing, Alva was also extremely pleased his message at the Sorority House got across—oh yes, Alva Harman was who murdered and mutilated those four innocent girls. The screams of the witches barely reached his ears. He was in a frenzy when he was slashing and tearing and sinking his teeth in their throats, their blood coating his body, clotting in great clumps on his face. He gained power from each of their deaths. With every drop of blood that slid down his throat he grew stronger. His skin grew harder, his bones more durable. He grew faster, and stronger. The blood pulsed through him even now, it suffused him with almost infinite energy. It was almost too much to bear, that kind of power. For so long he starved himself. Rationed the blood he took to minimize the evidence he left behind. Only by keeping a low profile had he survived this long. But not that night. That was a tiny foreshadow of what horrors he would do…. a rather cryptic sign, since he carved Heretic into each of their chests’ to throw off suspension, but a message nonetheless. Now he just stood in the crowd of mourners with a mask of coldness and aloofness. To anyone but the culprit himself, he either didn’t care or was mourning in a completely different way. It wasn’t until Lydia Dimir came his way that he even registered as a living person in the setting.

[gravitren]

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This ain’t no place for no hero This ain’t no place for no better man This ain’t no place for no hero