Elijah. What can be said about our dearly departed? Mere words cannot encapsulate the pure BAMFery that was Elijah the Original. Words were not who Elijah was. He was a man of few, opting rather to be a vamp of composure, of purpose, of action. We weren’t always 100% on his motives, but the sheer excellence of his execution could not be questioned.
On the first day we knew Elijah, we saw him slap a vamp’s head clean OFF (RIP, Trevah). We saw him get staked with a coat rack, only to come back to life because you cannot kill Elijah the Motherfucking Original with piddling regular vamp methods. He ripped vamps’ and werewolves’ hearts out two at a time, and was utterly unfazed. Damon Salvatore sat impressed, and let’s face it. That rarely happens. Man was the epitome of cool, crisp awesomeness. To that, I say, “Rawr.”
His greatness was also measured in his intelligence. Though he did not say much, it was clear that Elijah was well-spoken, which is always a turn on. When he did speak, he spoke with conviction and reason and credibility. Eventually we learned that he didn’t want to break the moonstone curse at all, but hinted at wanting to overthrow Klaus from his reign of terror. Perhaps Elijah’s plan was to take the role of Supreme Powerful Original Vampire from Klaus for himself (in which case, VOTE for Elijah!). In order to accomplish this, he promised to keep Elena’s friends and family safe in return for her helping to lure Klaus to our little town of Mystic Falls. However, he knew what needed to happen to accomplish this, and so did she. Elijah never lied, and he never faltered. And you have to admire that. I know I do.
And because of all of that, because of his danger and his presence, he was the stuff of our dreams, and of our fantasies. Elijah was hot. He was sex. And he knew it, playing his games and making his jokes. “I rarely pursue younger women,” he once said, the charm flowing off his beautiful body like an all-consuming mist. One flip of that hair, and we were all goners. Few words, raw power. He just elicited pure, unadulterated, primal emotions… It was like that from the very beginning, and I reckon it’ll always be like that for me. Elijah was the ultimate vampire. Women (read: I) wanted him, and men (read: Damon) wanted to be him. It’s just a fact of the world. But now we’ve had all that taken away, and I’m left with this giant, Elijah-shaped hole in my very essence. The only prescription is
more cowbell the return of our beloved Elijah, the possibility that we’ll get to see him again. It’s my only consolation. Wherever you are, Elijah, know this: we love you. Forever.
He came, he frightened, he conquered… our hearts.
RIP Elijah. You are already missed.
** Oh, Elijah. The pain. It burns.