poppycock: (#11308075)

[personal profile] poppycock 2025-01-12 07:35 pm (UTC)(link)
He would kill Alaric Saltzman if the man wasn't already as good as dead. Klaus' hand flexes dangerously tight around the cell phone he has clutched in his hand as he storms down the courtyard steps. He just heard all the news of not only his daughter, but of the terrible violence she has wrought, from a frantic Caroline. Thousands of miles away, embroiled with a pack of angry witches, she has no clear path nor timeline home.

The anger and concern he feels is insurmountable—he has one thought, and that is to find his daughter. So intent on his purpose, his attention does not alight on Josie until her voice echoes through the open space.

He pauses, halting where he is. At the very least, he can reassure Caroline of one thing, and now he will certainly learn more of the gritty details. He takes the rest of stairs, and most of the courtyard, with vampire-speed, unable to contain his urgency and impatience. Unwilling, too, to mask it.

"Josette," he greets, his eyes hard and flinty. He lifts his phone pointedly before pocketing it. "Are you not picking up your mother's calls?"
poppycock: (#11169948)

[personal profile] poppycock 2025-05-04 09:31 pm (UTC)(link)
"In that case, I suppose I should be eternally grateful." The words are dripping with sarcasm that wavers with the panic and worry racing through his veins. The truth is, he is. He is grateful to see Josie at his door, in his home, if only because her presence has him one step closer to Hope. To easing Caroline's mind—and his own—of one thing.

His exhale is heavy. His question is as earnest as it is demanding. "What happened?" He knows the broad strokes, of course. But to hear it from Josette, to hear her own interpretation and her experience, that is necessary. Perhaps because he also cares, in his way. Standing in front of him is a girl who has lost her sister. Lizzie may not be dead, but there is plenty to mourn. As there is for Hope.