pineslog | you put up walls and paint them all a shade of gray

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you put up walls and paint them all a shade of gray

Who: Damon Salvatore, Caroline Forbes and Katherine Pierce separately
Where: Caroline's house; Damon, Stefan's, and Katherine's
When: The night of the 1st and the next morning
What: Reeling, Damon pays another new arrival his very own visit, before tucking his tail between his legs and returning "home."
Warnings: As always, Damon is his own walking warning.

and you come away with a great little story ..

[ Misery loves company. It's the old adage Damon's abided by in the past, but instead of finding some unsuspecting victim, sleeping with the wrong girl, or generally setting fire to his life, he chooses the dark reaches of his and Stefan's office. and his memories, both fabricated and real. He would rage against the machine, were there something corporeal to rage against, and Stefan beat him to defacing their camera with grease.

It's a call from Stefan which alters his plan, instead, taking the bottle to another house, the address familiar enough that he hoofs it on foot, as if he has all his life? The war inside him isn't something he can discuss around cameras, not according to the rules. But, he plans on a little known tactic should Caroline want to discuss what's really going on. Damon can do either, really, he's spoken in half truths for weeks now. It's something he's gotten very good at

He gets the gist from Stefan, Caroline's memory is situated squarely on Stefan, it sounds like, and what's really surprising about that? Without Caroline knowing, they both lost out on one of their best friends (his, definitely, not including Bonnie) and he feels like sharing. He's trying healthier coping methods. When you burn your girlfriend's body in her coffin, there really is nowhere to go but up. (It wasn't her, but he spent weeks thinking it was.)

He also owes it to Elena (and Stefan) to check in on Caroline. She may not know it, but she just gave birth. That's taxing for a human, throw in twin siphons and she must be uncharacteristically exhausted. He makes sure to grab something else for his back pocket, something that he knows she'll need, anyway, once the booze runs out.

God, he hopes she has booze. ]

.. and I stood there loving you and wished them all away

Any desire to see things through with Katherine is quashed when that memory crops up, memory of a high school he's never attended with a girl who's well past eighteen. The last thing he needs is a conflicting memory hazing over what conflicting feelings he already has about Katherine here. Stefan can take care of her, answer questions and help her to the sheriff's should she need it. With the guilt over Elena he'd been carrying around this tips him over the edge into 'can't do it' territory which pushes him back to the bottle.

His brief foray into a strange mixture of guilt and misplaced hatred ends early thanks to Stefan's call.

He doesn't go back to his and Stefan's (and apparently, Katherine's, of course she lives there, too, maybe she's a co-owner of their auto body shop) until the morning.

If there's one thing he needs to do, it's separate the two in his mind. This scared, confused and attacked Katherine he and Stefan encountered and unmasked is a far cry from the manipulative, self-serving serpent they know and loathe. So, while he hadn't overstepped with his sun behind the curtain act, he knew it'd stung and confused her further. It was cruel to leave her alone after that, but he figures Stefan probably explained in even the barest of terms. In truth, he thought he'd fully dealt with what Katherine had done to Elena. The rocky patch in their relationship smoothed over, despite her several month joyride and gift she'd left them in the form of Dr. Wes Maxwell's vampire-feeding serum. It's no surprise this still chafes, that even now Katherine gets the last laugh because she doesn't know who she is.

He fights with himself, debating whether talking to her before these two weeks is up is worth it. She'll remember who she is, and how she's a vampire again (maybe because she'd died when in Elena's body, and a vampire), and maybe she'll apologize and claim insanity, or the deep, ceded love of his brother. For now, the girl in Stefan's bed (Stefan's a gentleman, he gave her his bedroom, he knows this) isn't the girl who stole someone's body, or their life.

Not deliberately this time.

He knows he also needs to go home. Caroline isn't his friend, not really, though he wonders if this may have forged something uncharted between the two of them. Exigent circumstances not unlike being cooped up with Bonnie for months on end developing true affection for her.

With nothing else in hand but another bottle of bourbon he acquired early in the morning, what he has in his possession can't be bought. If Katherine wants, he'll share a memory of her. Yes, as an excuse for, this is why he reacted as strongly as he did, but also to give her even a piece to the puzzle that is Katherine Pierce. If only he and Stefan had had the knowledge, or the opportunity.

Turning the key in the lock of his front door, he steps into the house, setting down the booze to lean over and start to unlace his boot. Halfway through he stops and stands up again.

"Not doing that," he says, shaking his head, having never been a person to just take his shoes off when coming inside. He's not that polite guy. But, he does roll his eyes moving further into the house and kicking one off by the couch, moving for his second because he wouldn't be even, all the while keeping an eye out for Kathlena. ]

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[ When you remember so little about yourself and there are two people (one, since Damon departed the scene; later, Katherine won't blame him for doing that) who seem to know who you are, your only course is to take the hours, minutes, one at a time.

She isn't Elena. Stefan isn't unkind in reassuring of her that any time she prompts about feelings that she's somehow both of these names. She doesn't try to keep that wound open, feeling enough of a connection to the Salvatores that she trusts they wouldn't be lying about this.

Still. Confusing is an understatement. She gathers bits and pieces from Stefan, who she rationally doesn't know but does, and if that's not a strange sensation, she doesn't know what qualifies as such. The sunny hours of her first day there drag on until they can leave to collect her possessions, affirming how completely Katherine she is. Her daylight bracelet.

Before she goes to bed, she strains to remember more. She can't, and she's upset that Damon just. Left. She understands, from a logical standpoint. She's not Elena. Worse, she's someone that Damon hates. What a thought to fall asleep to.

That's what turns over as she gets up, slipping out of Stefan's bed, leaving it unmade. She hears movement, and from what Stefan told her? It's just them that frequent the house. Vampire house. Feet bare, wearing a t-shirt she's borrowing from Stefan that works well enough for sleeping (and, hey, it's loose in general, especially over her form) and okay for being mostly modest. It covers what it needs to.

Yes, she's slept in and expects to see Stefan there, stopping in the hall when she first sets eyes on the brother that's actually come home. Is Stefan responsibly at work? Lips parting, eyes casting to the side, she's silent for a long moment. Until she takes half a step toward him, head tilting just so, hints of bounce and curl threatening to spring up in her hair. ] Damon. [ A beat. ] Hey. [ Should she, like, go lay back down and sleep until she remembers more, or what? Does he even want to see her? She spots the bottle he has then, giving it a curious, if not uncertain, look. ]

[ She emerges, wary because she has every right to be. But, he's the one she sees this morning, not his brother. ] I brought you something. [ Damon doesn't apologize ~~not yet in canon~~, so his apologies are gestures, promises or feats of stupidity. In this case, this is a gesture, the bottle he holds out to her, only taking one more step into his living room, which he doesn't;t have to point out is technically his, but it is. ] It's not your favorite but it's just old enough to be acceptable. [ Sure, she doesn't remember but he's sure taste buds don't change. ] You like old bourbon. [ Truth is, Katherine likes alcohol. Champagne, bourbon, name it. But she does prefer the brown hard liquors. ] I thought it couldn't hurt if you experienced something real first hand.

[ She's cautious when he replies. Almost stepping back, but looking at what he holds again instead. Does she expect him to apologize? Carry on about how he wasn't there for her as long as he could have been? Truthfully? No. He thought she was Elena. So did she. Apparently Stefan never did, the longer she thinks about it. Why wouldn't Damon be hurt, given the set of circumstances Katherine has been made privy to, even if she doesn't understand all of them on a firsthand level.

A sound, one that could serve to gently interrupt starts to rise in her throat. About how she doesn't know what her favorites would be. Then again, there Damon goes. She stares at the bottle until he adds that she likes old bourbon, finally stepping ahead and reaching to take it from him. As if she hasn't had alcohol presented to her like this before, looking down at it as she turns the bottle slightly.

The memories of how often she might have liked to drink before, though, those certainly aren't rising. So, she sort of is unfamiliar. As he adds that, closer proximity made in getting the bourbon, her forehead creases as she meets his eyes. A soft smile. ] Yeah? That was...thoughtful. Thank you. I could use something like that.

[ She takes a step then, intending to head toward the living room, stopping and giving herself a look down over her front. Then back to Damon. If he's put off by the low amount of clothes she's sporting, she figures he'll say so. She starts to move again. ] Is this [ a beat and light gesture with the bottle toward him ] one of your favorites? [ She never wanted him to leave as he did, so of course she's going to try relating more to what there is to know about the one Damon Salvatore. Are they going to drink it without glasses like heathens? Whether from habit (that's trying to creep up) or still being not entirely with it, she doesn't think to get any. ]

Takes the edge off from the, [ His right hand forms a fist, pointer finger extending, as he makes a circling motion. ] vampire cravings. [ Look who's being a Stefan. She stops, looking down at Stefan's white t-shirt that covers everything that counts. He doesn't react. It's nothing he's seen before. ] No. [ And he can't help but sound offended when alcohol's involved. But, this type of conversation on the surface helps bridge the divide between "Katherine's." But, he's moving over to the kitchen because she doesn't, where he retrieves two DOF glasses and brings them back to her. ] My tastes are particular. [ Ancient. Expensive. Aged.

Dismissively, and quickly. ] We have similar tastes. [ He sets the glasses on the nearby table. ]

[ Her lips purse down slightly at that. ] Good to know. [ She knows they've both experienced shadows over most of their memories (even if his are back in ship-shape), remembering all that happened yesterday; still, she's absorbing everything she can. Now, with (mostly) setting aside the Elena Gilbert name as being one of her own. Confusion rattled her in that department. She needs to know as much as she can about herself. Vampires. Etc. Which is what Damon seems to be helping with.

Why, she's not sure, but an answer will rise up over time.

She's about to sit, but stops and waits for Damon to follow, eyes inquisitive when he specifies what his tastes are like. Unscrewing the bottle's cap, she captures up one of the glasses, leaning over more casually than Katherine Pierce has likely ever leaned in a day of her life (what is sultriness?), pouring with it nestled in her palm -- ] It's wrong if I ask if you might mean in more than just alcohol, isn't it? [ and offering it to Damon. She's smiling, another soft expression. Someone get this girl a lesson in cooler, more Katherine-y expressions, otherwise this is gonna stay weird. ]

[ He goes to hold his hand out for her to hand the bottle back, so he can pour them each a glass, but she takes initiative. It's unnerving, to say the least. Her smiles are warm and unguarded, unburdened by years of abandonment, running and the very picture of trust issues.

He picks up his glass and points with it, one eye half closing, accompanying a nod. It's wrong, Katherine. ] Well, go on. I haven't poured vervain in. Try it.

[ She's trying to be nice! Is it working?

A glass for herself is poured, and her eyes are locked on him if not purely because she's still mentally reaching out to her surroundings, Damon a part of them, to try settling herself. Truthfully, it's not working that well. To center, anyhow. Staring down over the glass through a furrowing brow with what he says, she still lifts it to her lips to take a slow, easy drink. Focusing on the bourbon itself. Warmth that may just be cutting away at the displacement she can't shake. It goes down smoothly, and lookie there, she does like it. Another smile, brows popping, a shoulder rising, in approval.

She takes a longer drink. ] What's vervain? [ She sure sounds like Katherine as she asks that, skeptical as can be. ]

[ Only because she's being nice, and isn't that a foreign concept when it come to Katherine Pierce.

Damon takes a sip of his own, or more like a longer gulp. ] Substance we do not want to come into contact with. Debilitating. Weakening. Altogether avoidable. Do you like?

[ Maybe it'll start to fade even before her memories are back: only time will tell.

She can't help but stare; she's glad he came back, sooner than someone who was probably as upset as he was/is might have. Her head tilts when he answers the question, trying to remember this substance. She can't. Oh well.

Lips pursing out a teeny bit, her head tilts back the other way as she answers. ] Even with all the drama [ impersonations, past and present -- trivializing it, but not purposefully ] you do know me, don't you? [ Well, he sure thinks he does. Another smile, a light laugh that nearly lilts up into Katherine's usual register. ] I do like. Was it easy to come by? [ She's remembered that compulsion exists. Did you buy this liquor, Damon? ]

I think it's clear all that drama came from knowing. you. Real you, not -- [ All this.

Another laugh, and at that, a lightened tone. But, still, with that air of Katherine Pierce he could see from a mile away. (When the curtain hasn't been obscuring him.) And then, sure enough, she creeps back out. ] For some. But, I have an in. [ And by that he means, hey, he's apparently been here before. So. Also, maybe compulsion has been involved. ] Your wildly accurate alcoholism isn't the only reason I came back today. [ He says it casually, despite all that it indicates.

His hand reaching out and taking hers, the free hand not holding the glass doesn't say 'casual' either.

But, should she take it the wrong way, the next time she opens her eyes, she'll be standing with him in the foyer of the Salvatore mansion.

To the cameras, Damon is taking a moment, a deep eye contac-filled moment with the girl who resembles the girl he loves, but in reality, he's crept into her head (more like bombarded), taken up residence and fed her vivid memories of the Salvatore Boarding house away from prying, scheming eyes. ]

[ She turns a questioning gaze on him. She can't control what she knows and doesn't know, jeez. Either way, the booze is nice, so she focuses on it, and that Damon hasn't left. Does she always care this much about Damon, his whereabouts? ]

Do you? Must be nice to have connections. [ She has some, drastically lessened in scale only to herself, with the brothers, no? Katherine's lips start to press together and stop at the notion of her being an alcoholic. Is she? She takes another long drink -- if she is, so be it. ] This stuff's good. [ The glass lowers as Damon reaches out, her lips parting in surprise. Written over her features is a girl taken aback, chest growing tight as she begins to slide her fingers against his.

Then, it happens, and she gasps out, looking over at him blankly until it flourishes into horror, then confusion as she starts a slow circle in the foyer she does not recognize. Still looking away from him, she starts ] What's going on? [ Then, looking over. ] You're...doing this? Aren't you? [ There's gotta be more to vampires than what she knows. ] Where -- are we?

You'll have them in no time. [ The connections, should she need them. They're tricks Katherine Pierce uses far more than Damon does. He's speaking to the vampire that compelled herself a town of friends. ] No. It pales in comparison, but it does its job in a pinch.

[ He knows she's giving her a very mixed signal, but it's all for this express purpose. He stands there, letting her get the lay of the land. Not, blinking an eye, as if this is something he's done several times over his lifetime. ]

Welcome to The Salvatore Boarding house - well, a crystal clear, picture perfect memory of the Boarding House. I'm in your mind. With mind compulsion comes mind manipulation. [ He turns. ] So, here we are, the stage for many a Salvatore squabble. And you were in here a few times, amicably once or twice. [ Maybe more. But, he knows she has questions. ] It's a thing we vampires do. Creep inside your mind, maybe while you're dreaming, sometimes for some vampires we do it as an act of compassion - [ He with Rose, or Stefan with Caroline and her mother. ] Stefan and I have been using it, shall we say unconventionally.

[ Since he's inside his mind, however, he has access to better bourbon, so don't mind him, Katherine, he's going to go over and help himself. He pulls the top off the decanter and pours himself a glass, bringing it up. ]

Cameras can't capture me inside your head. [ A beat, a smirk. ] INXS. [ A sliver of the humanity in him, a fan of rock and roll before he takes a long gulp, downing the contents of his glass, shrugging and setting the glass back down. ]

You've probably caught the signs that are plastered everywhere. The rules. Well, this isn't breaking those rules. Not technically.

[ Does Damon always come with a dash of vitriol that looms? That tries to shadow over what she recalls feeling from him when she was still playing the part of Elena. All that kinder sincerity swept away when the truth was revealed, and she can't help but wonder who all he really is. Her brows rise in silent inquisitiveness when he corrects her; is there really a right answer in what tastes good to her? Not that it matters nearly as much as what transpires next.

Boarding house. Awareness registers at compulsion, but her forehead creases at manipulation. It's a clear enough answer though, one that he expounds upon. Standing still, watching as he heads over to pour himself a glass, she speaks. ] I remember compulsion. But, not this. [ A beat. ] Do I do this? [ Another set of sweeping glances all around before she starts over toward where the bourbon is, giving the cabinet a glance, coming in almost shoulder to shoulder with Damon. No attempt at putting herself intimately closer, but it's an action that feels natural.

Giving him a wondering gaze at the band name that she can't know, the word(s) sounds like a slightly deranged comment with the pronunciation of it (in excess of what?), her lips part as the empty glass hits wood. He goes on, reminding her there are more important discussions to be had.

Her upper body shifts just so, putting herself slightly farther away, enough to really look at him from the side. ] How could I miss them. Like you said -- everywhere.

You brought me here so we could talk without anyone listening? [ Her brows pop briefly. Only then does she look down over the bourbon, moving to pour herself a glass too. If they're in a dream, well mind manipulation, anything material's fair game. Drawing it up to her lips, she takes a slow drink, nodding as she lowers it, keeping the glass in hand. ] Unless you can make this taste better from some vampire trick [ ha ha ], then you're right. What you brought over isn't as good as it could be. [ She sighs quietly, looking around, voice falling into a casual if not heavier tone. ] I'm not sure what all I should say, Damon. If knowing much more than what I've found out already from you and Stefan could really make anything feel normal. Settled. Or, if it's not worth it, if I'll remember what I should eventually. Since you both did.

[ Another drink. A subtle sigh. Her eyes slide away. ] I'm...sorry, that we both thought I was Elena. [ Red alert: here are moments that may never happen again. ] No one deserves to have who they love be used as a way to hurt them, intentionally or not. [ Is this happening? She's said it all to the bourbon, a word or two to the floor. ] I can't remember if I'm even the sort of person to apologize or not [ a bitter chuckle ], but I am sure of one thing -- I think we both would've rather it gone differently. My showing up here. [ She finally looks at him again, taking another sip before she inhales slowly. ]

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