🅵🆄🅲🅺🅱🅾🆈 1864 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
unforgivably) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
pineslog2017-03-08 04:42 pm
unforgivably) wrote in pineslog2017-03-08 04:42 pm
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 ..
.. and I stood there loving you and wished them all away
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. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.no subject
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. ]
no subject
Dismissively, and quickly. ] We have similar tastes. [ He sets the glasses on the nearby table. ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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?
no subject
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? ]
no subject
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. ]
no subject
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?
no subject
[ 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.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
You do this. We all do this. For one reason or another.
[ And now her Katherine is coming out, questioning, the attitude. This is more like it. ]
She got it in one. [ That's impressive. He's heading away now, moving over to the pool table she wouldn't recognize as Katherine anyway , because he acquired it after she died. His lips come together in a subtle considering way, shoulders rising. He could make it taste better if he wanted.
Picking up a cue, pointing it at her ]
It's not about feeling normal, Katherine, it's about a safe space where we can all talk about whatever the hell is going on out there. [ He keeps back 'how none of this might not be real' because this could be a part of that, with Katherine a vampire again to boot. Stefan's tossed the idea of the Phoenix stone, but than whose hell would this be, they've both been through that. And Damon's wondered if this is Rayna's idea of a distraction. Incapacitate them while she hunts. Or, him so he can't save his brother.
Or do anything else he was planning.
She apologizes and it's not something he can even imagine coming out of Katherine's mouth, much less has ever heard it. He brings the pool cue up, vertically, listening to this foreign creature. ]
I think you're right.
[ He's not apologizing. He can't apologize. He did something that was necessary. She wouldn't have known. She wouldn't have dropped her act. But, he is also a man capable of compassion, so he decides not to tell her that's exactly what she's done in the past.
He'd like nothing more than to jam the cue in his hand into Katherine's heart - over and over again, but not this Katherine. Not like this.
Not yet.
So, he sets it down. ]
Apology accepted. Now, how about we do something about your memory block. Now, I can't get past whatever's happening, and Stefan can't either but what I can do is share. Sure, I can set the scene, but I can also share a memory - of you
[ another beat. ]
...if you want it.
no subject
For now...she's taking in what he says. A smile, smug and more so than she means for it to be, at her being so perceptive. Sipping at her bourbon, watching as he moves, she gives a languid nod over how he makes an amend to her statements. A safe spot -- they could use that.
After the apology (sincere to herself) and once he replies, she sighs in quiet relief. Acknowledging it rather than being outright dismissive, that's good. She goes over toward the pool table, settling in on the side opposite of Damon. After all, she isn't trying to be clingy. A return apology? Not something she expected, so she doesn't miss that one can't rise.
She can't know what all is going through his head, just that she doesn't know everything about herself. That she's not his favorite person, despite how he touched and treated her yesterday. When she pretended to be someone she isn't. Seemingly playing a card in the deck she regularly keeps. Katherine can't know what all it's comprised of.
She starts to smile, small and unassuming and not her, when he accepts the apology. Curious, her head cants, staring at him as he lists of the facts of the situation. Then that offer. Her brows knit for a second before she nods. ]
I do want. I need to see more, about me. Us. I -- remembered that I turned you and Stefan into vampires, however that works, but there's nothing else. [ She starts to take steps, watching him as she goes. ] I don't know how this works. Do we have to be close or do you just... [ She stops as she suggests that, brows rising, one hand running along the top edge of the pool table. ]
no subject
[ He leans over, does his eye thing before turning and heading out to the front door. ]
Come on, lots to see. [ Were she to follow, and he knows she will, he takes her out of the boarding house, but where there's usually an expansive lawn, they've stepped out into a sunny day, one in 1864. He ushers her down the steps of his childhood home, looming over them as a carriage rounds their front drive. He does stay to the side, but gives Katherine a good view of herself emerging from the carriage. ]
no subject
Oh how she follows, with a confident stride. Stepping out, her eyes wander until they catch sight of the carriage. Hair falling down over her shoulder as her head tilts, she peers over at herself. The dress, the fashion statements, the hair. Is this a new level of vanity, staring so much at a projection of yourself from the past?
She's silent for several seconds, working to listen out to what 'she' might be saying. ] What year is this? [ You can't take logic away from a person (there's a carriage, plus the clothes, so it's not the decade they're currently in), though she can't place it. ] And -- you remember this? This is something you saw?
no subject
no subject
Why was I here? [ Asked without making eye contact. A few beats. ] This is where you lived, when you were still human. [ Pieces locking together. ]
no subject
[ It's these little moments, the twist of the knife he can't help, knowing she'll probably regain these memories in due time. ]
no subject
Absorbing what he says, not moving, it's when he adds in that last part that her head turns enough to cast a look his way. Still, not shifting away, no matter how close they are. ] I'm an orphan? So. You know -- what? All about my past, except all of the details on what my deal was when we first met? [ It's not that she's defensive or cynical, but how else was she meant to take that? Mostly, she wants to know more. Obviously. ]
no subject
You're on the run. We don't and won't know that for over a hundred years. Katerina Petrova was born in Bulgaria. She had a child out of wedlock and had to give up her baby. She fell in with the wrong crowd, the most powerful of vampires, a family now calling themselves the Mikaelson's. [ As Klaus is now beside them, but not saying anything - choker and all. ] Meet Klaus.
no subject
Still, Damon answers. Her lips start to round when he says that name. Same initials as hers. Her heart aches at the mention of a baby being given up. There's another question she'll clearly have that he doesn't address on his own, but she doesn't get the words out before he conjures up another image. Whether from the sudden appearance or the man's image, she draws in a sharp breath, frowning in distaste. ] The most powerful? We -- if I was running, then we weren't... [ another frown spared over at Klaus ] friends?
Bulgaria to...where is this? [ A brief wave of her hand over the property's grounds. ] If you're over a hundred years old... [ wow ] then when was...Katerina Petrova born? Do you know?
no subject
[ He looks around. ] Mystic Falls, Virginia. [ More questions. He's beginning to regret this nice gesture of his. ] 1473. You're over 500 years old. [ He's not going to lie about how much a Katherine historian he became. He was obsessed with her for over a hundred years and returned strictly to get her out of a tomb she was never in. ]
no subject
Virginia. [ She breathes in, sighing out quietly. Her jaw hangs when he says how old she is, mouth shutting when she realizes how ungraceful it feels and likely looks. ] Wow. Okay. That's...a lot to take in. [ She looks away, peering back over the land again. ] So all of my family's dead. Yours too. Humans only live for so long. [ Matter of fact as hell. ] I don't wanna know how any of them died. [ A beat. ] I'll remember later.
[ Another pause. ] Did Stefan tell you that they gave me a key to the house you both live in, when we got my stuff? [ Bouncing back to the current. She's not certain what else Damon can show her, if he wants to keep showing her scenes, painting her a grander scope of her past. Plus, she thinks the fact they're roomies is an important tidbit. ] That I live there, here, too.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)