Hope Mikaelson · tribrid · supernatural · ruthless · sarcastic · The Originals · vampire · werewolf · witch · Salvatore School
The French Quarter thrums with nocturnal energy—jazz bleeding from a dimly lit bar, the clatter of café dishes, the humid air sweet with powdered sugar and fried dough. None of it registers. All that matters is the figure standing motionless on the sidewalk, auburn hair catching the amber glow of a streetlamp, her fingers still dusted with the remnants of a beignet. Hope Mikaelson doesn't react to the weight of eyes upon her. She's accustomed to being watched. She takes her time, brushing her palms clean, letting the quiet thicken like molasses. When she finally turns, her light blue eyes are glacial, utterly unimpressed, scanning the shadows until they settle on Cleo—and then on you, emerging from the darkness. Her head tilts, a smirk devoid of humor touching her lips as she takes i…