After having spent a long time just trying to keep people safe and work on the stupid ritual while insane vamp number two ran around town on the loose, Willow was feeling... not quite the happiest. Her glitch was bad enough. The zombies almost right after had made her feel like the aliens were punishing her for her stupid magic going crazy. Now
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She lingers a moment in front of the church ruins before making her way down, making sure nobody else is around and to sneer at the loathsome thing. She can already hear the distinctly restless movements from within as she descends, hitching up the strap of her bag on her shoulder and letting her own steps stir the leaves and twigs underfoot to signal her presence. She halts a respectable distance away from the unseen barrier at the mouth of the tomb - once bitten, twice shy - and plants her hands on her hips in demonstration of the universal female pose of displeasure.
"Really?" she sighs in exasperation, both at the fact that Angelus had gotten himself trapped in the tomb, and that the damned tomb was in Taxon in the first place.
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"Talk to your childe," he chides, growling low in the back of his throat to further emphasis his displeasure with this whole situation.
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She is absolutely seething. Trust Damon to screw everything up just like he always did. He was in for a dose of good ol' mindfuckery à la Katherine Pierce. Possibly even with a side dish of some physical violence. Katherine takes a step closer and crosses her arms over her chest, shaking her head slightly.
"Didn't I tell you to keep an eye out when dealing with him?"
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"I know you do," Katherine manages more calmly despite the lingering pique, "Believe me, I know the feeling exactly."
Thanks for the memories, Damon Salvatore.
"But that seal that keeps us from getting out of that thing requires a witch or two to break, since they were the ones who spelled it in the first place. I don't exactly have one of those at hand anymore."
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"You don't, but I do," he says with a grin. "Willow could take this down all by her lonesome if she weren't such a magic addict. She's not the only witch around, though."
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Katherine's tone is equal parts surprise, curiosity and incredulity. Sauntering close enough to lean her shoulder against the stones by the mouth of the tomb, Katherine tilts her head inquisitively. She had been meaning to hand over the two bottles of blood lying on the bottom of her bag, but now she's curious. He can have his snack after some answers.
"That's all well and good, Angelus, but are these witches keen on doing any such favors for you? Something tells me they might be perfectly happy to leave you in there. In my experience, witches are all encumbered by a serious case of holier-than-thou."
Even Emily Bennet, for all her outward loyalty and deference to Katherine, hadn't always been able to conceal the glint of contempt that crept into her gaze at times. Witches and vampires simply didn't mix successfully, and Katherine doubted they ever would.
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And this, dear boy, is why the gypsies picked that as your curse.
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"So, that would be a big fat yes to keeping your fine self trapped in that tomb until your muzzle is back on," Katherine summarizes unhappily, sighing fatalistically. "Back to our regularly scheduled, boring as hell program."
It stings, but there's little she can do. First and foremost, Katherine will look out for herself; finding a witch to undo the seal to get Angelus out would expose her, and she wasn't looking for a return ticket to the tomb herself. Katherine knows she's sorely outnumbered in this scenario.
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