the logs

Who: Dio Brando + you; Enrico Pucci
Where: The trek to & from the hospital; his shared home with Pucci
When: March 13th @ ~9pm or so; ~12am or later
What: Dio needs a refill on his blood supply; (most likely confusing) late night chats with Pucci
Warnings: Blood-drinking; will update as needed.

open.

[He is already a bit tired of having to make this trek, what with the winter weather still lingering in some capacity. He's also well-aware that he could simply order Pucci to fetch his blood supply for him, and he would do so without question. But when it comes down to it, Dio would much rather contend with the unpleasant climate of this little town over remaining completely cooped up inside. It's also only the second time he's made the trek so far . . . ]

[. . . But he is rather tired of this trek, and does not look forward to it next month. The thought occurs to him to simply abandon this cooler right here and now, and find something fresher to consume, but he knows himself to be smarter and far less impulsive than that. He needs to be patient for now. There will come a time, he knows it, when he might feed freely.]

[So, for now, Dio makes the journey to the hospital with both cooler and thermos well after the sun has set. He's polite enough to the few willing to be outside at this hour, the temperature dropping appreciably without the warmth of the sun, but he doesn't seem to possess a particular interest in lingering outside or slowing his pace much. When Dio reaches the hospital, he approaches the nurse's station, and places both cooler and thermos on the desk. The nurse appears to have been expecting him, smiling warmly at him as she takes both items, and assures him it will be just a moment and he can have a seat.]

[He doesn't take a seat. Instead, Dio leans against a nearby wall, arms folded and with bended knee to rest the sole of a boot against the wall behind him. He has no desire to sit and mingle with those in the waiting room, but he observes them silently as he waits. Once the nurse returns and calls to him with a polite Mr Brando, he collects his now heavier cooler and full thermos. He opens the thermos to drink on the way back, and those with sensitive noses will most certainly smell blood in the air.]

( closed - pucci )

Who: Katherine Pierce + you; Damon Salvatore
Where: Her home, French's General Store, S&D Automotive, Britches and Hose, Weaver's Bar
When: March 14, all day
What: Guess who has their memories back?
Warnings: Some violence. Will update as needed, otherwise.

You were different from my last but now you got it mirrored
OPEN. Main Street. French's General Store.

[ The morning sun is shining over their just lovely backwater town as Katherine pads through the house. The one she shares with two souls who have mutually accepted along with her (maybe grudgingly), that there's so much more to who she is, to her story, than they've exposed. Because, she'll get her memories back. Sooner rather than later, as the days go on. Color her impatient with each passing day.

It happens as she's pulling a bloodbag out, the chilled item falling from her fingers and snugly back in with the others. There's a torrent of information that sweeps over her, fog lifting, reality settling in, and the ache of a life always on the run coating back over her mind. She wanted this back, her life, and now that she has it? She wants to tie the person who ever cut it off from her up by their ankles to watch them bleed out.

Okay. She needs to gather herself, her resolve. First things first: appearances. There's...nothing in the house, other than a few containers of makeup, that she wants. Needs. Slipping into an outfit she's acquired (denim, what the hell), including jeans with a snug fit and lower waistline than most of the atrocities she's seen lately. She snatches up the camisole that's she now remembers using to impersonate Elena, sliding it on and starting outside. Those ankle boots, also Elena-y, get put on too.

She strides down the street, a girl on a mission, the spaghetti straps out of place in winter weather but whatever. There are more important matters to attend to than a breezy walk, so she speeds up to vampire speed to make her way to the town center, stopping out of sight of anyone and casually walking out of an alley.

Popping into the general store, she searches for a beauty section. As if they'll -- oh, there actually is one. Maybe this town won't be as horrendous as it could be. She spies a human shopping in the area and compels them into buying the items she wants. As a gift for her: it is her birthday, after all (it's absolutely not), and the people in this town have wanted to be oh-so welcoming. A curling iron. Lipstick. Products for her hair. A manicure kit (are the people here barbarians, not providing someone with the basic necessities she needs?)

Items in tow, she stops by a clothing store. With the world's least appealing selection. She manages, compelling the shop-hand into thinking how well the outfit suits her, how it was meant for her closet. She heads back to the house in that. Where, the infamous Katherine Pierce comes together, best she can in Wayward Pines. ]

And as it all plays out I see it couldn't be clearer
For Damon. S&D Automotive.

[ There is no game she's intending to play with Damon as she steps into the garage. They both know that Stefan's her favorite to play games with, anyway. Damon, he's always been the more creative ally to have. Plus, there's a hurdle they need to get over here. She's sure his heart is oh-so shattered after mistaking her for Elena (looks like Elena finally made the switch that Katherine could see coming from a mile away; though, how long it'll last, that's another story...that won't play out there -- she hopes Elena Gilbert never actually shows up.) Her ego's getting in the way with how she's presenting herself, putting herself out there for him to be testy over. Again, might as well go in strong and take it as it comes. She doesn't actually need to do this: interrupt his work day. Yet, selfish.

Maybe he'll be relieved that she's back? No more weird Elena-ness. No more attempted soft touches to bridge a gap between them that she can't believe anyone ever made her forget. What's wrong with the people in charge around here? She's back to Katherine. If her being regarded as a psychotic bitch makes for better relations overall, that's a plus in her book. This way, they can stop pretending that Damon doesn't constantly want to rip out her jugular, too.

She's acquired black heels (not the best ones, but they'll do): a chunkier heel than stiletto, but not awful enough that she looks like a goth wannabe reject. They click across the cement floor, legs long and clad in black pants (the closest fit to her own style that the '90s clothing there allows), a dark purple crushed velvet sleeveless top on, generous with the cleavage. Her makeup is done to a tee, that obnoxious pink she came in with her makeup bag set aside for a red bought by their friendly neighborhood friend. Most importantly, her hair is curled, divinely. She thinks she's really outdone herself, toying with the daylight bracelet over her wrist when as she comes up to find Damon working on a car. ] So industrious. You always were, when you put your mind to it. [ There can't be any doubt that her memories are back, not with that confidence in her tone, throaty voice having fully returned. When he first meets her eyes, her brows pop and she adds -- ] Hey roomie. You'll never guess what happened while you were out. [ A smirk, a giggle.

Yep. She sure is back. ]

Now sing
OPEN. Main Street. Britches and Hose. Weaver's Bar.

[ She's scoped out the lay of the land, its residents (both natural and those forcibly immigrated in), in the first two weeks. Yet, Katherine couldn't seek out the sorts of people, of information, that she finds herself drawn to. There was no allure brought out by her full personality, but with her memories back...she's on the hunt for interesting people.

Things go about as she expected them to a la Salvatores. Reality bites sometimes, what can she say? They're stuck there together though, and she knows that both of them simply must have allies around. She's not stalking after either brother that day (she's not stupid.) It's the first day she's reaching out to anyone that doesn't reside under the roof of where she calls home.

Daylight hours still, she finds herself in a lingerie store. Interesting. For all the sexually repressed soccer moms of the '90s, she wonders? She goes along the aisles, a presence about her that says why yes she's interested in speaking to you, if you're in there too. Holding out a black teddy, her head tilts, curls tumbling down over her shoulders as she hums -- does she want it? ...Maybe.

With the fall of night, she finds a bar, and there's only one thing to do at a bar: compel free drinks out of the bartender (who knows if she can, depending on who's working), get people to buy her drinks and/or flirt. All of the above sounds lovely to her, the infectious giggle she has carrying out when she gets her first drink. There is a 100% chance she'll approach you, fellow patron or staff member. Bars are great for meeting people, everyone knows that.