IV.       In the News.

       "THE BATTLE OF WILLOW CREEK," Mr. Tanner's voice droaned on, his lanky figure striding across the floor as he made his way around the front half of the classroom. As Mystic Falls High's history class, dozen of ornaments decorated the walls and shelves of the room, playing into the archival aesthetic. However, to anyone with a parent who's life work was not only dedicated to history and the world before, but sought out secrets unknown to man, more often than not their children would develop a knack for devising the fake cheapskates for the real object and have heard more lectures before they fully knew the alphabet.

       Maybe that had been why Bianca had performed so well in this class, having the highest scores to prove it. In all truth, however, the Amorettee teen had made it her mission long ago to excell at any history class she had ever taken, for the fear and embarrassment it would be to fail history when your father was a history major. She was sure, if she had been, Mr. Tanner would not let her live that factor down for the rest of the semester. But due to the fact that that wouldn't hold any staple and the teen even kept him on his toes, he had no choice but to grovel in silence over the matter.

      It was a common sight almost, for most of those in the class, to find a simple piece of enjoyment even with the ranging hostility practically bleeding from every pore of the elder gentleman. Mr. Tanner would dwell well past regulatory student-teacher relations as he made his way down the roster, twisted glee alighting in his eyes as he successfully watched the juniors' facade crack and crumble under his venomous invectives. However, his amusement would quickly shift into simmering jaded frustration when his eyes landed on Bianca, jaw clenched as whenever a series of questions would leave his mouth, the teen would respond correctly with clipped mannered poise.

        Bianca was never one to be caught unaware by the man, nor would she ever want too.

       "How many casualties resulted in this battle?" Mr. Tanner scanned the room, beady eyes practically staring into the teenager's souls, peering into each and everyone of them until he could grasp at anything for the sole purpose of humiliation. His eyes drew about Bonnie, whose gaze shot up in a startled manner. "Miss Bennett?"

       Surprised by the sudden question, as having been distant for the period since she had sat down, offered a feeble answer. "Um...a lot?" Absolving some confidence from the poorly hidden laughter from Matt, she continued. "I'm not sure. Like a whole lot."

        Mr. Tanner, however, was not very enthused. But when was he ever? "Cute becomes dumb in an instant, Miss Bennett."

         Bianca could feel a crack within Bonnie bloom and fester with poorly hidden dejection, and instantly a cold slithering sensation pooled at her gut, twisting and turning within her with the desire to break free. Bianca quickly slipped her hands on to the table, inhaling sharply as wave rushed over her and sparked from her fingertips. In her peripheral, she drew her attention to the flickering of the lights from over head. A telltale sign that she needed to reach out towards control, and soon.

         Unconsciously, her fingers sought out the wooden frame of her pencil that had previously rested on the edge of the desk. Though a notebook had laid splayed out before her, Bianca had long since registered after walking into class that it would not have much use. Or so she had once thought. The side of her hand ran across the smooth pages of the book, graphite dust scattered around as she dragged the pencil and a clouded haze drifted over her.

        Sound had become muffled, as if she had been underwater and held no interest in coming up for air. The skin between her brow pinched the more her palm ran across the page, lines turning into shapes and shapes gaining textured. Black ink bore over the pale white of the sheet, varying from the darkest shadows to lightest greys. Her head tilted in slight reverence when a face peered back at hers, eyes casted by a haunting look of terror that, even in the darkness, shined through.

        The more she stared, the more the pieces came together-from blue eyes to the long brown hair, all familiar to a matching description of someone she knew. "Vicki Donavon?"

       A harsh sound of impact forced Bianca from her stupor, a throaty inhale locking in her throat as she snapped her attention towards Mr. Tanner's towering figure, startled by his close proximity.

      "Miss Amorettee, glad to have my star pupil back from her trip to Neverland," he said with faux praise, face twisted into a scowl. "But maybe, perhaps, instead of focusing on the morbidity that is your sketching, you could possibly provide an answer to the question no one seems to have." His lip twitched, begging to arch into a cruel grin. "Or, perhaps, you're too good to do so."

       If the lights had been flickering before, they would have been nonexistent as they burst from above, a glint of hope reigning in Bianca's heart that one simple spark would crash down on the man and set him a blaze. It just so could, but all the Amorettee teen would need was motivation.

      But the act would be too outlandish to even mask as an accident, not without burning a few others in the process as a cover up.

      Inhaling slowly, Bianca drew a sickly sweet smile on to the surface of her face, cheeks pulling at her lips. A small voice had whispered in the back of her mind, telling her to remain collected, or at least bare in mind that while letting loose would be a relief, it could potentially turn into a hazard for those around her. Instead, she regarded the man. "Of course not, Mr. Tanner. I don't believe that I am too good for anything, just as I sure you don't believe you are either."

      Small series of chuckles broke out from around the classroom, but Bianca paid no mind as she continued. "But to answer your question, there were 346 casualties, sir. Not including, however, any local civilians."

        A slight twitch had birthed its way on to the corner of Mr. Tanner's eyes, his cheek jutting out as he pulled away from the teen. "Correct, as usual Miss Amorettee." However, he didn't let any assurance seep in as he said. "But maybe in your readings, which I am sure you thoroughly looked through, you had found that, in actuality, there had been no civilian casualties."

         Bianca glowered.

         Mr. Tanner grew smug, his chin now leveled with a superiority complex that had grown a chip on his shoulder since the day he stepped foot and decided to teach at the school.

        "Actually," called out a new voice. "She's right." Bianca narrowed her brows as she twisted in her chair, pursing her lips curiously as she briefly met Stefan's gaze. "There were twenty-seven, sir. Confederate soldiers, they fired on the church believing it to be housing weapons. They were wrong." He stated factually. "It was a night of great loss."

        Mr. Tanner bit his lower lip harshly.

        "The founder's archives are stored in Civil Hall if you'd like to brush up on your facts, Mr. Tanner."

        Surprised series of chuckles and soft laughs passed around the room, almost every student finding amusement over the scene that had just played out. Bianca withheld her amusement, sending another look of haste towards the Salvatore boy before returning her focus back to sketch before her, teeth gnawing on the inside of her cheek when a piercing set of eyes remained locked into the distance.

       By the time the bell had rung and others were piling from their seats, Bianca was up on to her feet, hand clenched tightly around the now crumbled artwork-if it could be called that. Marching towards the entrance, bag slug over her shoulder, she threw the paper ball into the bin and held no intent of looking back.

       It was simply a drawing pierced from a morbid dream-like haze, and nothing more.

        LOUD SERIES OF CLATTERING echoed throughout the kitchen of the Amorettee household. An assortment of objects ranging from dirty dish pans to knocked over seasonings, all along a flour dusted counter that had long since mirrored its once clean appearance. It was a mess, there was no denying, but an organized mess through the eyes of its creator.

       Bianca, covered in flour from the end of her apron just reaching around her knees, all the way up to her chin with small remnants painting her cheeks and the bridge of her hairline, a place she was sure would cause her trouble to clean. However, even so added to the fact that her feet were now cramped from holding the burden of her weight without consideration for a break, her determination had reigned triumphant as she ran her palms along the cinnamon, brown sugar layered dough and rolled it into a tight cylindrical shape.

        The soft droaning sound of the oven heating the heavy cream soaked cinnamon rolls that had held a grip on her mind like a vice, practically begging for her to make them and allow the aroma to sweep throughout the house.

        Or possibly because when she had casually mentioned to Bonnie over text, the Bennett girl had been quick to inform the others and came a wave of gentle requests (demands on some parts) to produce a big enough patch that would hold them down during the events of tonight's party, filled to the brim with teens who would definitely miss the memo of adding something to your stomach before consuming large amounts of alcohol.

        Introducing cinnamon rolls to her friend's digestive systems were a sure benefit to everyone for the duration of the night.

        The sound of the front door swiftly closing, followed by the patter of footsteps drew the teen's attention to her father's figure as he strode into the kitchen, brows raised as he set aside his leather satchel on the dining table, eyes scanning over the scene before him. "Baking, I see. What's the occasion?"

        Bianca shrugged, hand maneuvering along the rolled up dough as she slide a knife through until palm sized platters lined the counter. "Oh, you know, just a celebratory back to school bash at the Falls. Figured making these would provide some layer of protection to my friends' stomachs before a certain beverage hits."

        Kenny let out a hum. "Straight to the point, I see." He walked around the counter, making his way towards the skin. "I would be correct to assume that this is the party I was informed of earlier. The Falls is an interesting choice, very remote."

       "I'm sure someone had thought of it in hopes it would make the police less likely to break it up."

       "Possibly, but who knows." He turned, shaking the water off his freshly cleaned hands before turning to his daughter with a stern look. "I'm sure any rational adult would be willing to make that trek if their teen was surrounded by mounds of alcohol and others under its influence."

       Bianca blinked. "Is this your way of telling me if I don't come home a reasonable hour that you'll personally drive up there and get me?"

      "I've done it before, so what's to stop me again?"

       "Can I at least go? I promise to even be the designated driver."

       Kenny raised a brow, eyes stern. "As your parental figure, I am inclined to say no." As Bianca's expression began to deflate, he continued. "But, since you're pretty responsible and always had a good head on your shoulders, you can go."

       A wide grin pulled at the teen's lips, a silent victory cheering in her mind only to be cut short when the timer from the oven rang loudly, signaling her attention. The father and daughter duo worked in step, leisurely working within the kitchen under a comfortable silence. By the time they had finished and ran through two and a half of the pastry dishes, the event from earlier in the day had drew its head in Bianca's mind.

      "Hey, dad," she glanced over at her father, who was now wiping down the counter. When he let out a hum in recognition, Bianca pressed on. "When mom was practicing with her magic, did she ever...draw anything at random moments?"

      Kenny paused his movements, frowning curiously. When Bianca reiterated for clarity by shifting the question to a possible event in time, a look of understanding flooded in the older man's eyes. "You mean had she ever drawn anything, an event, that may happen in the future?"

      Bianca nodded.

      "A few times," Kenny sighed, crossing his arms over his chest, hand rising up to scratch the edge of his beard as memories of his wife filled his mind. "When we had first started dating, it was our senior year of high school, I had once caught her scribbling away at her note book. Normally I wouldn't have thought much of it, but it seemed as if she was stuck in a trance. When she finally came out of it, I was able to catch a glimpse of the drawing. I can't remember the exact details of the image, but the next day, one of our classmates had narrowly survived an attack."

       Bianca prodded at her palms, expression pulling into a scowl. The movement didn't go unnoticed.

      "Did something happen at school today?"

      "Not if you're counting the fact that Mr. Tanner is a total-"

      "Bianca," Kenny cut in sternly, face now holding a serious mask and showed that he was in no mood to play games. "What happened?"

       So Bianca explained the situation, starting from her shifting emotions had nearly set the school lights to explode, her frustrations clouding her judgment, all the way to her sudden desire to create, a random page in her notebook that should have been used for notes had now been the surface of a morbid drawing.

         Kenny stood silent for a moment, gaze distant as if remembering a memory so far away, and yet so close at the same time. "Do you know who was in the picture?" When he received a nod, he continued. "You're like your mother in a lot of regards, one being that if you have the ability to help, you won't let it go until you do. From that, I can assume that you'll try your best to make sure nothing happens to whoever is in danger."

        Bianca remained silent.

        "You're growing into your powers, you're still learning Bianca. You have to remember not to rush into things. These...visions that you are having, the same way your mother used to, you have to understand that there weren't any rules to them. Sometimes they cams true, sometimes they didn't. Sometimes, they were completely different than perceived." He released a sigh when he realized how frantic he was sounding. Inhaling softly, he maneuvered his body until he stood in front of his daughter. "I need you to understand that, okay. I need you to understand when it's time to pull away, to not let everything fall on your shoulders."

        Warily, Bianca nodded. However, festering in the back of her mind she had the small inclination that her father's words were not solely targeted towards her and her experience alone.

        Before she could question it any further the sound of a phone's ringer hummed from buried within Kenny's left pocket. Pulling away and reaching for thr device, Bianca watched as her father's expression remained unreadable, providing no solace of care that his tone tried to compensate for when he spoke. "Word," he said before dusting off a speck of flour from her forehead before planting a kiss on the same spot. "Have fun, and be safe. Remember what I said."

        Bianca's eyes tracked the man's frame as he moved to answer the call, studying his body language for any miniscule sign to cling too, but only turned empty handed when he disappeared behind the door of his office.

       Apart of her could only hope that the rest of her night would be spared.

___________________

word count: 2739

author's note:

chapter four is finally here! It took me a minute to figure out what exactly I wanted to do, and then it hit me. Incorporate small things about Bianca's witchy abilities! See, since she is a newbie and is still learning she's going to have questions, so who better to ask than her dad? (Consiering her mom's MIA-).

If Bianca thinks that drawing is a one time thing, and that she won't see it again, shes got another thing coming. I'm planning on a lot of things in this universe, especially expanding on the magic world of the TVD verse because there was so much that could have been done, but J Plague just...like how do you have Bonnie constantly near death and facing consequences of overusing magic, but other witches, you know what I mean, are barely shown to be affected by overusing their powers and even have the ability to be mega powerful- like at least be consistent.

Season one is a bit of a drag, not going to lie, but, even as much as I dislike her, Katherine brings on the drama for this and the show- and brings in the introduction of the Mikaelsons even closer! I have so many plans for that storyline 😩.

Also Bianca bakes, like she cooks too but you'll mostly see her bake because she likes how creative she can get with it. I thought that that would be a cute little something to add into the book.

©️ sukibenders.