i tried to take the road less traveled by but nothing seems to work the first few times

[unforgivably]

Who: Damon Salvatore, YOU?
Where: Around.
When: This Week.
What: With his daylight ring in possession, Damon gets a lay of the business he owns? With added context from home.
Warnings: Damon is a walking warning, but other than that, nothing other than the usual territory that comes with a Salvatore. *Season 7 spoilers, however, also counts as a warning within, they're may be closed logs underneath as well

S & D Automotive

[ Stefan told him about their business. He's yet to see it for himself. He dropped by mid-evening the week before, but this is the first day Monday he's stepped into work. Not to mention, the cars he and Stefan discovered, finally being able to be driven. He doesn't hate his car. He misses his old one. But, that one exploded driving into the Mystic Grill.

His fingers grip the steering wheel as that notion forms.

Something clicks into place mid-day Monday. It's as if Damon's flown blind for two weeks (figuratively speaking). The kernels of information he'd remembered had kept him alive and sated, but his suspicions hadn't wavered. Memories line themselves up like a movie playing in his mind. Elena had described to him once how it felt in transition, watching scenes play out before you, and Damon wonders if this isn't unlike that. Wayward Pines is no Mystic Falls (he's sure now it's bigger in infrastructure), so they don't play out in front of him, but they do play. At first, fragments slide into place. Elena. Soon, whole scenes rush at him, starting with what he remembered from before waking up in that hospital.

Elena's alive.

He keeps driving, slowly going in circles around town tossing aside familiar feelings and memories of the town he's currently stuck in, matching them up to what he remembers, to Katherine. To Bonnie. To those months he'd spent in 1994 now with context, and fuck if he doesn't hate Kai.

Everything circles back to Elena.

As for Damon, he circles back to the garage. He exits his car and hoofs it to the garage the Salvatore brothers own. You may catch him going through files, checking the computer, and digging around in back for parts if you drop by. Everything is too vivid, too specific. Stefan and him fix cars? No, this is someone's idea of a painted trick. He's done this before. Hell, he's pulled this before. Mostly out of a sense of compassion.

He takes a few minutes on a chair inspecting one of the cameras above his desk, but he doesn't rip it down. He just steps back down and smiles at it, giving a wave. He's got your number, Wayward Pines.

Or, so he thinks anyway.

If you haven't caught him combing through their records or inspecting cameras, you may have caught him with a legal pad in hand writing down facts. Specifically, his and Stefan's sordid history. That's right, he's even broken into his Wayward Pines bourbon stash, jotting down everything he thinks he can remember. This is what's real. Every time he reaches the bottom of the page, he flips it back, moving to the next.

Elena's alive seems to sustain him. ]

Comments

[unforgivably]

I welcome them. [ A finger comes up. ] The looking. [ Not the touching. Krystal with a K doesn't count. ]

Scamps. [ Teenagers. ] Or, it's something they can't control. Two weeks is all they've managed. Memories are a tricky thing. [ Or, not when you're a vampire, but again, he's not going into what he can do. Just what he is. ] Sooner or later all those little scenes play out in your head. It's unavoidable. [ or, they learn you tampered with their mind. Either way, it's still a tried and true tactic they use. And a lot of the time they get away with it. ]

[singly]

[ Unabashedly -- ] Anybody who's hot does. [ How sure of this she is! No one is immune to the pull of their ego. Her eyes slightly narrow when Damon gives, what sounds like, firmly set insight on memories and how tricky they are. Hm... ]

They are. Sometimes they come back when we don't want them to. [ Err. It's a truthful statement, but she takes a breath, looking away for a moment. ] But everything that's come back, for me, I'm glad it has. Do you think humans got a lot of theirs back too? [ It's an innocent enough question, edging with the idea that they might somehow have a dash of superiority on humans in this regard. She's left to assume details about vampires, but she imagines there's a lot more to them. Naturally, physically. Like with werewolves! ]

[unforgivably]

Why don't you go and ask some humans. [ Or, less. He doesn't know. He's still culling through. It isn't all there, but there's a substantial amount now. ] Maybe leave out the, because they're human. Or, tow the line and limit the V-talk. or, W-talk. Or, talk or where, what, why, who - any of the former that doesn't fall under their very generous set of rules.

[singly]

[ It was just a question! She's unimpressed, but realizes immediately that he has a point. So her next comment extends not from disliking his attitude but a specific sort of agitation that resurfaces. ] With those sorts of limits, we'll be lucky if we're allowed to talk about anything. [...Maybe that wasn't how he meant it. ]

I'll ask around. But I just thought you might have an opinion about it. You seem like you might have a lot of 'em. Maybe you were just running your mouth a little about how tricky memories can be, too? [ Now she's trying to press a specific button to get as much as she can out of him. ] Unless you got a better reason for saying that. [ He could've said it because this is a conversation and that's what people do, Malia; but she's a little suspicious! ]

[unforgivably]

When in doubt, mention the weather. [ Or, he knows that's what people do. Weather. Current events. Damon's never had a problem with the harder topics, broaching them with nearly zero warning usually, unless they pertain to him. Then he picks and chooses. ]

Maybe I am running my mouth. Maybe I have reasons, but we established that I don't owe you anything. I'm not going to suddenly give you the ins and outs of being what I am. No vampire 101 for you. Memories are tricky. You may remember something one way, when, in reality, it wasn't like that. Sometimes we remember what we want to remember. Memories are deceptive and tricky. For anyone. Vampire. Human. Anyone.

[singly]

[ The start of a roll of her eyes. Dancing around what she wants to know isn't her style -- ] I'll -- think of something. [ -- which is why it's so frustrating to be pushed into doing so. In that conversation, in general. ]

Maybe they'll wanna talk about it. People like having someone to talk to. [ She thinks. She doesn't care so much about that for herself. ] That's fine. It's not my business. But, you and Stefan might be better off if you felt like there were people around you could trust, too. [ She lifts both hands, giving a small shrug. ] Not that that's me. [ She's not presumptuous! You get more accomplished by having friends; through using honey instead of vinegar.

Memories...] So...repressing them, sort of. [ Another shrug and glance away. She knows about those. It's all what it is too, though. No changing it: at least they remember more reality now. Her brow furrows. ] Do you got a way of telling if someone is a vampire? Other were-creatures smell a certain way. But you, smell like a...human. [ Mostly? Not that she's smelled a vampire before but if there are sorts that smell anything like decay, he sure isn't one of them. ] Do you know if there's other vampires here? No names, I just...wanna know.

[unforgivably]

Try not to think too hard, they may think you're a bit slow.

[ Harsh, but true, he thinks. Her stops here and there to gather her thoughts are clear to Damon, but the average person might not know what to make of them. Or, they may ask all the wrong questions. Has she remembered anything. Like Damon, she has to play everything close to the vest. Or, she should. She doesn't have to. That's up to her. ]

It could be you. But, with could comes maybe, and maybe comes with time. So, give it. [ Some time. As for her mention of Stefan, he doesn't react or confirm. It is logical that with one vampire brother comes another. But circumstances being... ]

Repressing them, misinterpreting them, convincing yourself something went one way when it didn't, it went the exact opposite. [ He decides to answer this question, but once again, not fully. ] There are tells. We have ways. And means. [ All these questions. Caroline once told Lockwood she was the only vampire and didn't they all benefit from that little decision. ] We don't.

[ Know. If that's clear. And he did say we. Confirmation enough, hopefully without more. ]

What about were coyotes? Were-anything's? Just where are the other weres.

[singly]

[ Her face twists at that, until she recognizes that he has a point. She's realized, quite recently, that most of the friends she has (at home) tell it as when necessary, but Damon really ramps that up: she likes it. She gives a tiny nod, acknowledging and agreeing. ] I don't care what anyone thinks, but...good point. [ Especially since she'd be talking to these people to garner details, not have them look at her as if she's dim and write her off. The only tactic she has to demand information is through fear and torture and...not really what should be done. She knows that!! Really.

From the way her eyes widen and shine just so, brows going together a little, she's taken aback that Damon actually suggests that there could ever be some trust built between them. He seems so...reserved past a certain point, and she doesn't blame him, so she blinks and gives the faintest of smiles. ] Right. You don't force trust. That's not how it works. [ See? She's totally not slow. ]

Yeah [ whispered, lips slightly pressing together ] at least there's a lot that's...clearer, now. [ She gives him a look of hope, silently wishing he really has found more clarity too. He's the first person she spoke to, there, that speaks as bluntly as she does, with motive rather than in random patterns, so she cares. In her own way. Plus, they're both not human. That means something to her. ]

Okay. [ A nod, taking in these details about vampires. That there are tells. That Damon, Stefan she's assuming too, don't know about any other vampires being around. She inhales at his question. ] None, not from my world. There are two other people here from there, but they...aren't werewolves. Were-anything.

I don't know how all you're different, different in the ways I am. But. I can...smell were-anythings. Most of them go through hell during the full moon too. [ She recently did. Yay, town and its beautiful realistic dynamics! ] Some of 'em are stronger and show off. Accidentally. [ If she were an air-quotes kinda gal, there'd be some, as her tone suggests. She shrugs. ] Boys. A lot of the time. [ She 'prefers' the silent and more broody slips during the day and leaving the ass-kicking for when there's less people around. ]

[unforgivably]

In this place, it's better people aren't suspicious of you, be it because of your handicap, or your mouth. [ Take that as you will, Malia. ]

No. You force alliances. Common goals. But, trust, trust is earned. And then lost. And sometimes, if you're really good, Santa comes and it's earned back. [ He can't speak too seriously, not about trust, not to a near stranger, not in any real way. ]

Do they know you? [ He hopes they do, for her sake. She had a missing family the last time they talked. Friends here would help. Especially in this monotony. He knows it's not this monotonous for everyone. He was the one stuck inside, but there is something plain about everything. Generic, Boring. When not sinister. ]

Bones breaking. Agony. I know the drill. [ He's unaware there could be a different drill. Lockwood broke his bones for months to break Klaus' sire bond. Didn't save him for exile, though. Or, ultimately, Caroline getting with Klaus. Go figure. ] It's the sudden feats of strength. You have to get used to them, or else you're replacing a lot of door knobs. [ He's basically lecturing her on something he thinks she knows. But, consider this his note comparison. She gets one after all. To an extent. ] Werewolf boys will be werewolf boys.

[singly]

[ Her face starts to scrunch. She isn't handicapped -- what? ] ...Yeah. Sure. [ She agrees about the not letting her mouth run wild, so latches onto that.

A joke, since no one in the room believes in Santa, though the (bitter?) tone backing his words earns him a look. ] Even if it's not Christmas? [ A smile. She can make jokes too. Or, piggyback off one someone else made. Otherwise, she's in agreement with the additional words on trust, its dynamics, absorbing his take on it. ]

No. Maybe. Not since I last talked to 'em. [ A long inhale. It'll be especially disappointing if Stiles is in the dark about who she is. ] I just remembered knowing them. [ A pressing look, since she means real memories, and that feels an important distinction to make, even without saying it aloud. ] Maybe they got certain memories back too. I've lived with them since the first day, since after the -- accident. [ So help her; the fallacies surrounding the idea of those accidents. ] They've...been my friends here. [ Weird how that's worked out, huh?

Damon knows the drill -- and she assumes that's newer knowledge, unless his lack of familiarity with were-creatures on day one had been false. He sounds like has a better grasp on it, just by tone, than either Allison or Stiles did, or herself, did during the last full moon. Still, comparing notes, she hones in on a specific detail. ] Our bones don't break during full moons. [ Pragmatic as all heck. ] The werewolves you knew? That happened to them? Why? [ A pause, though she's at the ready to share more. ] Any shifting can be controlled. With an anchor. [ Where's literally anyone else from her town to explain this better than she can? ] So you're not out wanting to kill anyone you come across. [ Don't you feel safer now, Damon? Who knows if she has control over her shifting, what all's included with it, and how many people she may try to attack during full moons! ]