entrancelogs | ( closed starters ) maybe we'll show some mercy

( he's searched endless levels of this tower seemingly designed specifically to kill them. he's stained with blood, his own and plenty not, when he reaches the harabah block of floors. not that he knows this. not that he knows anything about what's to await him the further up he travels, but he's been up, he's been down, he's been to the safe zone — and he can't wait there indefinitely, stricken with worry that those he loves might be in danger.

his recent brush with his tested invulnerability not withstanding, he's less likely to fall by any of these creatures.

his sister, powerful as she is, does not have that luxury.

he's attempted to call her. many times he has, from little to no success. the further up he travels, the less his device works. the further up he travels, the stronger and craftier his opponents are. this is hardly comforting.

he walks at a brisk pace, alert and searching. )

Edited 2017-10-08 16:40 (UTC)

[Freya is starting to get tired. She's been wandering the tower for too long at this point, also in search of her brother, and she doesn't know how much magic she has left. Which is why when she senses him, more so than sees him, a line of relief sags through her shoulders, and she reaches out to her brother in order to get his attention.]

Klaus!

( the harshness of his expression softens when he spots her down the hall. he sees her sag; he can see even from where he stands, and he wastes no time reaching her, one moment stationary in like relief and the next in front of her.

he reaches for her arms; he looks her over. ) Freya. Are you all right?

[She lets him reach for her, taking in that support for a moment, before nodding.]

I'm fine. Just tired.

[Magic can be incredibly draining, especially when you're looking to do damage rather than simply commune with the spirits. Add to the fact that she hadn't really slept the night before and her tank is getting very close to empty.

But at least with her brother here, she knows she'll be safe enough for now.]

You?

( he's seen enough of this event to know there are many who aren't — they are not fine; they are not all right. finding his sister in one piece, at last... he too revels in that relief, all the more needful of it now she is all that's left of their family. ) Tired, ( he responds, and then continues with ire, ) of this unpleasant nuisance. ( he turns, hand still lingering at her arm. ) Come. We have to get to safety.

( perhaps they would in short order, if not for the small girl, so familiar and reminiscent, that klaus stops in his tracks.

she is looking at him and freya with wide eyes, eyes he knows, eyes that seem drawn to him more than his sister.

"dad?" she says, her voice frightened and unsure.

his heart stops in his chest; his breath is caught. "dad," she says again, and runs forward, her arms encircling his legs. )

[Hope.

She knows it without having seen her, without the years that have passed as benefit. It's something as instinctive as knowing Finn, even while he was wearing Vincent Griffith's skin. But at the same time, there's something not quite right about her presence here - something only another witch would know, and she very gently reaches for her brother's shoulder.]

Klaus, we need to be careful.

( it's his daughter. as sure as he knows his own blood, he knows this is his daughter.

—and for a moment, she truly is, the moment her small frame collides against his legs and all he can do is reach for her. she hits him and it is like a crippling blow: his hand rests on her head; the other hovers around her shoulders. the breath that leaves him is a hushed and ragged.

his daughter. hope.

before his shock can give way to nothing more than the first waves of terrible joy, he feels freya's touch. he hears her words and they cut through the deafening quiet of his dread and elation. his eyes, rounded and wide, look to her: he sees the warning in them, the fear, and his thoughts turn to what this could be. no, he counters, cannot contemplate but contemplate he does, and looks down at her. ) Hope, ( he breathes in awe, in desperate question, his hand smoothing back her hair and the other tightening at her thin shoulder as if she might disappear or be taken from him.

"dad, what's going on? i was scared and couldn't find you." she glances to freya. "aunt freya, can we find mom?" )

[Freya doesn't now what to do, or how to say it. The fact that the spectre is so convincing is dangerous in and of itself, but she knows it can't be Hope. Not because it would be impossible for the little girl to be brought to Wonderland in the middle of all of this - children are brought to Wonderland all the time, even in the middle of horrific events.

What tells her this isn't Hope, however, is the missing spark that sets all Mikaelson children apart. She's missing the magic that would call to Freya, no matter whether Freya knew her or not. Perhaps it was this was the event clouding her senses. Perhaps it was her exhaustion not able to parse through everything surrounding them, but something in her gut tells her this is wrong.]

She's not here. It's just me and your father.

[But her hand stays resting against her brother's shoulder, unsure how to break the spell this child was creating without allowing him to be harmed.]

( he wants it to be real. he needs it to be real, but that dread lingers; it creeps from beneath his awe and longing and creates a eerie darkness in the pit of his gut, lingering on the edges of his senses, teasing at his instincts. he doesn't want to listen, but he has never been one to be fooled, and the hand on his shoulder and freya's warning and the tenseness in her now tells him all he cannot deny: something is wrong.

but of course it is. if this could be real.

he looks down at the visage of hope, studies and memorizes her freckles. his hands linger at her shoulders.

cautious with fright and love lodged in his throat, not knowing what else he must do, he moves into a squat before her, one hand wrapping around hers. her skin is cold. like ice. ) It's all right, sweetheart. Aunt Freya and I will take care of you. Will you make me a promise? I need you to be brave.

( hope's eyes linger on freya before they slowly turn to klaus. she nods. "i'm hungry." )

I'm sure you are.

[She doesn't trust this mirage for a moment, and while they're very good at playing along, she knows that eventually things are going to take a turn for the dangerous.]

Why don't we keep moving? See if we can find something for you to eat.

( for a pause, hope is quiet, a hollowness in her eyes as she continues to look at freya. then she nods, the gesture slow again, and assents, "okay."

klaus stands as their exchange stretches, his fear and hope on a razor-thin line, a numb terror inside of him. his hand is still wrapped around her cold one. she lifts her arms, asking to be picked up. he stills but a moment, then reaches to pick her up.

that's when her face changes, a black hole lined with teeth where her features should be, and she attacks. )

Klaus!

[It's an instinctive kind of shout, the kind that you know is useless and wasteful, but you can't help but do anyway. It's then followed by an instinctive bit of magic, intended to blow her back but not kill her.

As much as she knows she should go in for the kill, it's still Hope.]

( it is hope, and klaus likewise cannot —

even as she changes into a nightmare all he is capable of doing is barely fending her off. he falls back; he attempts to let her go. klaus knows, her teeth a hair's breadth from his lifted arm, that he might not have succeeded without his sister's aide.

the changeling collides with the ground just as klaus does; her face instantly reverts back to hope's. "daddy, please! don't let her hurt me!" transforming again, she lunges for freya. )

[Freya stumbles backwards when the child turns on her, before she reacts defensively again, throwing up a barrier spell between them and not!Hope. Part of it is her not knowing how to kill it, but part of it is still that sentimentality.

It's still Hope.

But hopefully with the barrier between them, it will give them time to regroup.]

We need to get out of here.

( watching his daughter — the creature under her face — lunging for freya is what stirs him from his horrified stupor. he couldn't agree more: this may be a vision of his daughter, but freya is his sister. his jaw sets; his sense returns.

with little more than a blur and a blink of an eye, he grabs freya and retreats as far and as fast as he can.

he stumbles and halts to a stop after a moment. visibly, uncharacteristically shaken, he walks a few paces away and then turns wide eyes freya's way. ) It was her. It looked like — ( helpless, he entreats, knowing there is no answer. ) How was that thing my daughter?

I don't know.

[She doesn't know, because beyond it being a new torture that Wonderland has devised, these creatures are like nothing she's ever seen before.]

I'd say it was Wonderland, but how can it create what we do not know.

[Neither Freya nor Klaus have seen Hope at that age. It couldn't have conjured her from their minds, could it?

( couldn't it? hasn't wonderland proven just exactly how far and how cruel its reach can be? he looks away from freya to the ground. ) What if it has her, what if—? ( the panicked wanderings follow her thought; his hands trembling at the prospect, his head shaking back and forth as if to dispel or deny it. he feels the pull to go back, monster or not. )

Edited 2017-10-15 17:12 (UTC)

[She shakes her head quickly, her hands moving to his shoulders to steady his gaze, keep his eyes on her.]

She had no magic, Klaus. None at all. She couldn't have been Hope.

( his breath is heavy but so are freya's hands at his shoulders. his eyes are stricken, but now stricken on her. he tries to even his breath, to listen to her words and hear them. he repeats them in his mind, as if they will make sense: she wasn't hope. she couldn't have been hope. wonderland doesn't have her.

but how could it have known — ?

he thinks of the child's razor sharp teeth lunging for freya and reaches to grasp her arms. ) We have to get out of here. ( for his sister, they do. )

I agree.

[She takes a deep breath before looking around, trying to see if she can find one of the exits.]

If nothing else we should at least keep moving.

( he had tried to call her in his desperation.

no doubt elena gilbert was doing what she does best: ensuring those she loves stay alive. even if damon had not already found her or vice versa, she would be searching for caroline. — and he hasn't been able to ensure her safety.

this — this motivation, this raison d'être — it is what he and elena have in common, protecting their own. keeping them close.

he's searching levels after the next, often attempting to call or text those he is looking for and those who might find them. the call connects. he hears a phone ringing. he pauses in his steps at the sound echoing, heart in his throat hoping, and turns the corner to find her. )

Edited 2017-10-08 17:54 (UTC)

( the truth is: she cares.

the truth is: she hates wonderland for shoving these emotions inside of her that can never be real, but exist nonetheless. she doesn't know when, exactly, their truce calcified into something real. when their similarities started to shine through and when they started seeing things from the same side, but that doesn't matter. her phone is about to ring, and she would answer it if klaus wasn't standing before her exactly two seconds later.

it's relief, followed by tension when she sees he is alone. their interests align once more. ) I haven't found Caroline.

( or chloe, or billy, damon. damon. there is no shortage of people elena cares about, but the list of people she considers hers? that's admittedly smaller. )

( he cannot afford to hate or eschew what is useful. what sustains. what ties them together, when so much is at stake. (when caroline's love and their survival is a part of that.) he can take note of its extent, be wary of its limits, but he cannot hate that which makes him stronger. (he can only hate when it makes him weak. when it reminds him of its foreign implementation.

and how it isn't foreign at all: they are the same.)

the truth is: he cares too much.

he cares for caroline and even without that alignment, he would care for her, though the caroline of it all doesn't hurt. (he thinks of seeing elena's limp, prone form and the horror that filled him.

he sees her now, and relief does. relief and fear, for she is alone as well.) he moves forward to meet her, the urgency of his concern palpable. ) I haven't found anyone. ( with tightness, meaning, and inquiry, he adds, ) Nothing friendly.

( becoming a vampire has changed everything for her.

it was devastating, in most ways, considering how deeply elena values her humanity. in other ways, though ...? it's given her strength and power she wouldn't have had otherwise. if she were still human, she wouldn't survive this event -- not all the cunning and self-preservation in the world can rival these beasts.

klaus himself looks urged and concerned, and doesn't that say it all? the biggest and baddest wolf understands wonderland is not to be trifled with.

tension lines ripple through her shoulders, understanding was is being said -- and what isn't being said. )

We'll find them. ( determination sets in her features as she levels her gaze. ) And until then, we stick together.

( she understands. it's so rare she doesn't, and yet every moment he sees the recognition and the familiar in her gaze, there is a piece of him astounded. buffered. comforted.

(even that. he knows what drives her. he knows what she is capable of.

what he is.) ) After you. ( he says the words with respect. he means them infused with such. he couldn't have decided better himself.

they're in this together.

he lets her go ahead and turns to follow — and the only sliver of warning is the shiver down his spine a split moment before cold hands grab the sides of his head. the pressure is agonizing, unimaginable, different in any way he could identify. with a roar, he falls to his knees. )

Edited 2017-10-22 23:04 (UTC)

( it happens in the blink of an eye: the djinn is there and then it isn't, and coldness slices through the air until she's left with its winter.

elena drops to her knees, arms already outstretched in a bid to reach for him. her hands know what to do, even if the rest of her doesn't, old-worn memories that are and aren't rattling to the surface in one shuddered breath. her hands are no longer her hands, slender fingers morphing into someone else's. she says his name once, twice. but klaus won't hear it. elena's voice grows lower in pitch and fills with gravitas, an accent one does not readily place wrapping around a lone word. ) Brother?

( later, he will anger knowing he did not sense this enemy's presence, so silent it was and so wrapped up in his relief. he will seethe and imagine its bones snapping beneath his hands, but in this moment, there is nothing but the revelation of his brother before him —

and that is truly the offense that will shake him.

it will shake him because of how desperately he wanted it to be true. how he believed it to be true: he knows, fleetingly, that it should be elena in front of him. it is not. )

Brother. ( the word is torn and molded from the remnants of his painful groan, anguished and pleading both. his hands reached for elijah's arms. ) Elijah. ( his brother is here, is what he thinks. whatever torture this is, bringing him to his knees, his brother will help him. )

( he sees her. a flash of blonde through the milling of people and the wounded; he would know that gold-spun color and the grace of her movement anywhere. it's been a day — more? — of this event, and the second time he's made it back to the last floor, where they all seem to be safe.

he moves through the bodies between them; he moves them, a hand touching a shoulder and another, his eyes stricken on the back of her head. his breath is caught with his relief, but he has enough to call her name: ) Caroline.

Edited 2017-10-08 19:14 (UTC)

[She hears her name and her head turns, her blonde hair not swaying as easily with the grime and blood that's splashed across sections of it.

Relief has already flooded her features before she even sees him in the crowd of people, because she recognized his voice.]

Klaus.

[She's a blur, then, crashing into him as she throws her arms around his neck in a tight embrace.

This event was particularly terrible, to say the least.]

( his arms are waiting for her. he sways back against the force of her colliding with him; he embraces her, one hand cradling the back of the head. he exhales in his relief, in his gratitude, holding her close and knowing finally that she is in one piece.

it's at that thought he pulls back, enough to make certain she is. his hands cup her face; he looks her over before his eyes lock with hers. ) Are you all right? ( he's no doubt she is, but there is a difference between alive and unscathed. )

Edited 2017-10-09 21:56 (UTC)

[Her fingers reach up to hang loosely from his wrists, thumbs brushing over the insides of his pulse points there, nodding quietly.]

I'm fine.

[It's not a fun event, but it hasn't hit her the way it's hit plenty of other people. She's barely hurt. It hasn't prodded her emotional scars.]

I was worried about you. [But he's here, and he's in one piece.] Have you anyone else?

[She's seen Freya, but Elena, Chloe and Damon...she hasn't seen them at all.]

( his lips part and his lashes lower at her confession of concern and the warmth that blossoms inside of him, even amidst the terror and blood. it's a taste of something that sustains him. ) I saw Elena, ( he reassures her immediately, though he doesn't know where she is now, ) and Chloe. ( he pulls her back against his chest. ) Freya's safe, ( he adds.

so is she. )

[Relief explodes in her chest; if he's seen them, then they were okay. They could easily still be okay.

Well, there's no mention of Damon, but if Elena's still fine then that's the most important thing to her. She doesn't feel that guilty, since that would be the most important thing to him, too.]

This is a freaking nightmare.

( well he's not particularly concerned about damon (old habits, etc.) and more importantly he knows who weighs heavily on her mind — and on his. ) It's hardly a picnic, ( he agrees wryly, the unease of the trials endured trembling in his gut.

his hand runs down her hair and it shakes just so. he worries now. he worries that she will leave to find those unaccounted for. he's under no illusion he could stop her, though he'd insist upon being her company. voice strained, he inquires, ) Are you staying here?

[She doesn't want to. She wants to go back up there and search until she finds every last person she cares about and drags them back down here.

Except she knows it isn't smart.

She nods, albeit reluctantly.]

At least one person should stay down here in case anyone else makes it back. Otherwise, we'll just keep going up after each other over and over.

Lucifer and Seth are likely to kill her (metaphorically, this time) if they realize how far away from the safe zone she's wondered. She's not been completely reckless; she's clocked the weird portals, keeping as close to them as she can while she searches out her friends. The mansion has fallen into a nightmare, although she can't help but feel a little vindicated after her conversation with the psychotic cat.

The things they are hiding from definitely are not here to make friends.

At least she has her gun, gripped steadily in her hands as she creeps through the hallways. Her device has been half useless, and while she managed to track down Seth and Lucifer, Elena, Caroline, Klaus and Freya still remain unaccounted for. She knows they are all more than capable of taking care of themselves, perhaps more so than she will ever be, but Chloe still isn't used to being the only human in a circle of immortal beings. Human or not, her loyalties lay with those she loves and she can't live with herself if she abandons them. If she is going to remain human, she refuses to lose her humanity in the wake of her fear.

Besides, the further from Lucifer she is, the better.

Chloe rounds a corner, catching movement out of the corner of her eye, and in a flash her gun swings around, leveled and ready. It's only then that she lets her eyes focus, her gaze settling on a familiar face and she breathes a sigh of relief.

"Klaus."

Those who captor, detain, and seek the elimination of their victim's will power generally are not interested in making friends, no matter how placating or horrifying their methods are dressed up.

Klaus would know.

Unfortunately this hand is of the terrifying variety. Fortunately this variety can be killed.

However, he's yet to find whatever kills on this level of nightmares, and it has him a little on edge. That edge is hardly softened by the arrival of someone he cares about — gun or not, Chloe is hardly indestructible. He doesn't flinch at her rapid movement, nor the weapon aimed at his chest. It won't hurt him for starters and he's not interested in startling her further.

He sighs too, his relief mostly because she is safe. (She is one of the handful of people he cares to come across.) He wonders tangentially where Lucifer is, how worried he must be, and more importantly, if he is safe. Klaus takes a few steps closer. "I suppose I should be grateful you at least have that." He nods to the gun and adds with some glib amusement, "And you didn't waste your shot."

Edited 2017-10-14 18:41 (UTC)

Chloe nods, lowering her gun from him but keeping it at the ready. She would still feel bad for shooting Klaus, even if it didn't hurt him, and not just because it would be a waste of ammo. At least it wouldn't be quite as traumatizing as the time she shot Lucifer, but she didn't know if it would hurt Klaus, even if it didn't kill him.

There was, of course, the fact that she'd already nearly emptied a clip into him once before.

"I'm glad you're okay," she says, as if she's come to save him, as if he isn't a powerful, immortal hybrid and she's a wimpy human. "I was hoping to find Elena and Caroline, honestly. I'm worried about them in all of this. I thought zombies were bad. This is a nightmare." She shakes her head, moving closer to him. She might be stupidly brave, but she knows bumping into him will give her a leg up if they bump into any of the monsters wandering around, and she isn't even sure what to expect on these floors. "Have you found Freya?"

Klaus stays where he is, hands folded behind his back, the picture of composure. It's in part a practiced lie, but it is proof enough he's certainly in his element: terrible creatures on the hunt for blood is hardly enough to trouble him personally. It's a lie because it does trouble others and beneath his facade he knows there is more out there than your garden variety demons.

His nonchalance flickers with gravity at the mention of Caroline, who he has yet to find. Elena as well, though he considers her somewhat more tangential. Freya, however. He appreciates the concern, and knowing him enough to acknowledge that concern, but the reminder of his encounter with the creature who attacked he and his sister is hardly a welcome thought. This is a nightmare. "I did. She's safe." All the more reason to divert the focus. All the more reason to take a few steps past her to hide his resulting expression. "I assume since you're after securing the safety of your friends, Lucifer is safe?" He halts and looks back.

He doesn't need to tell her he hasn't found Caroline yet, either. Chloe reads it on his face, in the shift of his weight. She lets out a breath of air, an almost prayer to a god she doesn't even think can hear her. She just has to believe she will find the girls; and if she doesn't, that they will be safe.

She is relieved to know Freya is okay, at least, and she stares at the ground as he walks past her, averting her gaze from his as he asks about Lucifer. Chloe didn't tell him when she left, although he is bound to know by now.

"Confined to the safe zone. Detective's orders," she responds, but she's unable to meet his gaze. She feels ashamed, in the knowledge that she is out here, in the thick of it, leaving him behind with no warning. "It's better. The farther I am from him the safer he is, and I don't think I can get much farther than this."

Freya knows she makes Lucifer mortal, and she assumes Klaus does as well, considering what happened after her arrival. He, of all people, knows how vulnerable Lucifer has become.

He doesn't need to see the shame written beneath her mask to know she is lying. For one thing, the truth of the matter hardly holds up to what he knows and can figure about their dear friend. Clearly she's motivated to stick to her story; for what reason, he can only begin to comprehend.

Perhaps the pressure of caring for Lucifer was too much. The pressure of Lucifer caring for her was too much: why not go off on her own to handle the calamity and danger solo, with no pressure at all but her own life? Klaus looks through her for a blink and then says, even and wry, "How heroically sacrificial of you.

"I can't imagine Lucifer shares your opinion. I also can't imagine he is fine with you traipsing back into danger alone; leaving him behind." After all, besides the pesky complication of love, Lucifer may be vulnerable, but not so vulnerable as she. It goes to argue it'd be him or both of them venturing into the beast's den, not her.

Or perhaps he's already been injured.

Edited 2017-10-23 13:17 (UTC)

"I'm not trying to be a hero."

Her words bite, snapped quickly in his direction in a poor attempt to protect whatever is left of her dignity. She's not trying to be a hero; but what she is trying to be is a mystery to her. Maybe she's stupidly trying to prove to all the immortals in her life that she can take care of herself, that she can keep up, that she isn't weak or helpless. Maybe she's just trying to prove it to herself.

"And yeah, I mean, no, he.... Doesn't know, exactly." She tilts her head to the side, rolling her eyes and letting out a burst of air. "Can we not with the Lucifer thing right now? I mean, things are... A little weird."

Only about to get weirder, considering the conversation that will happen between them when she returns to the safe zone. As for now, maybe she needs her space as much as she thinks he needs his, for as much as she's used to doing this kind of thing with him. As much as she hates to admit it, going on adventures without him never feels entirely right.

"What are you doing out here in all of this anyway? Even with all your vampire-werewolf-hybid..." - she waves her hand at him - "ness, you're in just as much danger out here."

Clearly the lady doth protest too much. Klaus is quiet at her easy, snapping return; not offended but instead intrigued — and perhaps a bit concerned. No, what she's doing is not heroic; though he admits he's not an expert at such things. What she is doing is foolish, reckless, and if it ends in her death, there is nothing anyone, not even he, can do about it.

That life will be lost forever.

The thought doesn't stop his low chuckle of amusement when she admits to her subterfuge. Ah, well. He'll abide by her request, mostly because now is hardly the time nor does he have a pressing interest to be so involved. He's said his piece; it's up to Lucifer now.

Klaus sobers at her question because she's right. She's the first to discern and point it out. "Less than you," he says frankly. "Less than most. There are still those I care about out here, so I take no comfort in sitting idly by."

He looks at her level. On second thought, he will inquire. "If you're not being a hero, what are you doing?"

Edited 2017-10-23 23:14 (UTC)

Klaus is her friend, and regardless what has happened between them - the way they first encountered each other, he in his wolf form, wreaking the threat of death over her partner, the conversation that occurred after and Chloe's willful ignorance towards the parts of Klaus she doesn't want to see - his presence is a comfort to her in this insanity. The three men she's found herself closest to here are dangerous in their own right, but still not as dangerous as the world they have found themselves in. Wonderland has moved the goalposts in a way, making allies of what would once be enemies, simply because they have no other alternative than to be on the same side.

"Same thing as you. Worrying about the people I care about." This time she does meet his eye, because when she came out here looking for Caroline and Elena, Klaus was not far from her thoughts. She's not an idiot. She knows she can't save him.

But who is she if she doesn't even try?

"I'm no good to anyone waiting around for this blow over," she doubles down, although what she really means is she is no good to herself. Her altruism is only that to an extent. If Wonderland has taught her anything, it's how meaningless and fleeting her existence really is, in the scheme of things. She's surrounded herself in the presence of immortals, vowed to protect a fallen angel, half-adopted two vampires. She's tiny, a beating heart shrouded in flimsy skin and fragile bones that Klaus could shatter with a look.

In the wide world of existence, Chloe is nothing. She knows that means she is only what she makes of herself. She won't hide.

"Unlike you, I can't just turn off what makes me human when I don't feel like dealing with it." It comes out harder than she intends; not as a slight towards him, but in defense of herself. "So I guess here I am, being an idiot."

Who she is doesn't matter if she's dead. To Klaus, that is all that matters, but he can tell and he's certainly being told by her now what matters to her. (And it does matter. It does; sacrificing all that you have and all that you are; your very life for those you care about is meaningful. It's no less than what he would do.

He admires that streak inside of her. It's what makes her a warrior in her own right, someone worthy of regard, friendship, and loyalty. He would shed his blood and that of others for her.

But this escapade isn't about being a hero. It's about finding out what she is and running from herself all at once. It's about desperation in the wake of helplessness. Of course it is; she's made it clear with her reactions. It's hardly a difficult conundrum taking into account all she's come to terms with and all she more than likely hasn't yet.)

His brow lifts in impressed amusement at her accusation, however she intends it. He doesn't argue; on the contrary. She's quite right. And she is being foolish. "Well at least you admit it." His slight smile is sharp. Klaus advances, eliminating the space between them in calculated measurements. His smile falls and he is grave. "What you are is no good to anyone dead, least of all to Lucifer, and least of all to yourself. And that's what you're afraid of, aren't you? Being lost. Useless. Small." The words are deliberate and punctuated.

In another context, they would be cruel. His bluntness gentles. The penetrating regard of his attention does too. "You're not," he assures her softly. "You're going to be fine."

She stands her ground as he moves towards her, Chloe's feet pressed staunchly against the floor as he fills the space between them. She knows he doesn't mean to scare her, and she isn't afraid; what is left to fear, after all, when the Devil is your best friend? From a distance, Klaus is no doubt something to be feared, and rightly so. Like Lucifer, some would look upon him as, at best, a scary story whispered around a campfire, and at the worst, a monster.

Maybe, once, Chloe would have looked at him like that, too. But Wonderland has given her real things to fear, with the worst of the monsters hiding in her own mind.

Her eyes dampen and she looks away, determined not to cry in front of him. His words would be cruel if they weren't true, effortlessly defining her every fear with the simplest of words. Her mind wanders to Lucifer and then Seth, ever so briefly, and somewhere there is a spark of acknowledgment of who the decisions she makes truly belong to.

"Who I am at home, what I do... It means something. Maybe not something big, in the grand scheme of things, but it's still something. Here, though..." She takes a breath, looking up at him again, and the shame on her face is replaced with a look of defeat. "I can't protect any of you. I can't protect him."

He cannot conceive it, what it feels to be human. He forgot, long ago. He's considered more than once, how much effort and heart it would take to work so hard every day to survive; to live. Death is waiting in the wings for everyone (even him, one day) and humanity's desperate search for purpose might seem mundane to him...

But she is not mundane. What matters to her, matters to her, and he can understand feeling weak and useless and small. He can understand fighting and needing to persevere, to have purpose, to matter. Klaus blinks at her confession, compassion writ on his features. "The rules have changed, but you have not," he summates. She's here, in Wonderland. She's here, met by her friend who is the Devil. By him, who is not much better. By so many and so much more powerful and larger than herself.

There is power in the strength of the fragile fighter. He said this once, and he believed it. "Whatever that means, it does not mean that you are less, that what you do is less." He also believes she has worth and power to him, and to Lucifer. To her daughter. His voice thickens with the sentiment he does not say. "If you believe you do not have any worth to the people here as you are now, then you are wrong."

He lets go of a breath, shifts on his feet, and offers her his hand. "Let me take you back."

Although Chloe knows a part of him cannot understand, he still knows better than Lucifer. Klaus was mortal, once, though perhaps so long ago that she wonders if he can still recall the reflection of fragility somewhere in the depths of his mind. Lucifer can call upon no such echoes, having lived his entire existence in the knowledge of his eternal life, as dull and bleak and bitter as it was. He does carry that with him; the regret, betrayal, and self-loathing informs every word from his mouth, every twist of his lips, every gaze he pulls from her eyes. She sees it in Klaus, too.

Often, Chloe finds herself wondering what will become of Elena and Caroline. Both of them are so delightful, so full of life; Caroline embraces it with every step, obviously happy with the course it has taken her. Chloe doesn't know how long it takes for reality to extinguish that light, if it's caused by loss and heartbreak or simply an inevitable victim of time. Death terrifies Chloe, perhaps now more than ever seeing as she understands what possibilities wait on the other side. She also doesn't know what is better; the promise of death, or the daunting reality of eternal existence. There must be a reason it all comes to an end.

She hesitates only a second before she takes Klaus' hand, her fingers wrapping around his tightly and for a moment, she feels like she did as child, clinging to her father for guidance through a world that was too big to fully comprehend.

"Freya said she'd try to help find out why I make Lucifer mortal," she tells him, although she's not really sure why. Perhaps it's the basic fact that somehow, he does understand her, and he's willing to listen in ways others aren't. "We don't know why it only happens with me. Even if we did, I have no idea how we could reverse it."

Chloe has her suspicions, though, most involving some kind of divine intervention. Maybe Lucifer is right. Maybe, to his father, this is all a game.

"He doesn't blame me, you know? But sometimes I feel like it would be easier if he did."

( closed starters ) maybe we'll show some mercy

closed to freya mikaelson.

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closed to elena gilbert.

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closed to caroline forbes.

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WELL I LOST THIS AT SOME POINT OBVIOUSLY

IT HAPPENS TO THE BEST OF US

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closed to klaus mikaelson & chloe decker. tziah block, tartarus

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