This is the web, web that you weave
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.
And as it all plays out I see it couldn't be clearer
For Damon. S&D Automotive.
Now sing
OPEN. Main Street. Britches and Hose. Weaver's Bar.
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.

you should've known better than to mess with me, heartache
He lives with the woman, or the shell of a woman he has vivid, painful memories courtesy of, but he manages. He has a "life" to lead. When not playing the part of the mechanic's older brother, he tries in vain to find any sign of what he needs to do to get out of this small town hell. Were Rayna Cruz involved, they'd all be dead. Could Bonnie have spirited them away in a prison world? For their own good? A semi-dystopian small town in the 90's with strict rules? Someone else? Who knows if the Phoenix stone accepts two souls at once - three possibly if Katherine's joined them, and Caroline to boot. Katherine is still the person out of place here. She's gone. She's been gone for two years.
But Katherine Pierce never stays dead, does she.
If living here didn't confound him before, it does now.
But, the woman living with them doesn't count. She's yet another doppelgänger, playing the part of Katherine. And doesn't she just deserve that and more.
He loses track of the time regarding her memories. It becomes a routine. She's not a bad person to drink with when they don't discuss the atrocities she's committed - or he's committed. He's no closer to finding out why - or even how. And that's why he's at the garage. Because where else would he be. This Damon works there, this Damon lived here. More flashes come, more details - without the detail of Katherine and why she's living with them, why she was given that key. He half expects there to be a surprise connection there, that none of them conveniently remember. With Katherine's luck, she finally managed to snag Stefan. But, he has no context to believe that. Despite it, he sees people everyday he knows or he's seen before, that he went to school with or shot in a game of pool. But, he never loses track of where he's come from. Maybe he should thank Katherine for that, for being a constant, blank slate of a reminder that nothing here is as it should be. That something's up. And they'll find out.
For once Stefan takes his lunch hour alone, Damon's not feeling it, but one of them has to hold up to routine. When paperwork fails to pass the time, Damon's grateful for a drop by and an oil change request. But, they're full service, so he decides to do the full work up, no charge. Kick the tires so-to-speak. Double check everything. Check the transmission fluid.
Katherine always did have the best timing.
Leaning over the hood, she catches him as he's checking the dip stick. As she speaks (Katherine loves to hear herself speak), Damon wipes the dip stick down with his rag. With the dip stick now clean, he can do something he's wanted to do since the moment he realized she was Katherine. There's no reason to lie to himself anymore. ]
Great.
[ And in one fluid motion, he breaks what's probably a given rule in this town.
She deserves more than a dip stick stabbing, but it's a start. It cuts into her abdomen nicely. It won't do any real damage, of course, but he did just ruin her new top. That's an extra perk, right? Whether she doubles over, or collapses, Damon turns back to the car as nonchalantly as he stabbed her. He probably shouldn't have done it out in the open. But you see, she deserves it. ] That's just for your two month joyride in my girlfriend's body. I'll save something more excruciating for trying to get Stefan to stake me, and then something more creative for stabbing yourself with Wes Maxwell's Suck Potion Number 9. That really left us with quite the mess.
[ But, now that he's gotten that out of his system. ] Now. We killed you. Stabbed you with the Traveler knife and everything - well, Stefan did, can't leave that detail out, but how in Hell did you come back this time? Did somebody dig up your bones?
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Katherine knows her presence at the garage won't be a surprise; she's gone there many times over the course of her two week stint in town. She's eyeing Damon carefully, knowing that he can be a loose cannon when the mood strikes. He seems to be tending to mechanic tasks though, and that single word? It's not enough for her to realize what he's about to do.
Her flesh is pierced too quickly for her to react, soft fabric splitting and blood spilling out in a customary circle around the nearest, dearest weapon of choice that Damon had at the ready. She cries out in pain, in shock, shoulders caving and slumping in, a double over if there ever was one. Mouth agape, no breath coming from her, she stares over at his form. ] Not the welcome I -- [ she reaches down, face twisting in preparation of the jolts of pain she'll need to inflict upon herself, both hands encircling the dip stick and yanking it out, tossing its bloody-coated self down onto the garage ] came to expect here. [ Usually, she found herself sitting around the garage, out of either of the brother's way, but near enough to not feel alone.
Jesus, how fucking pathetic she was the past two weeks.
He starts in about what the stabbing was for. Wound healing as quickly as they both know it will, she steps over closer to him, never one to back away, not even after being attacked (not when it was by someone who's technically weaker than her.) She's unimpressed, eyes piercing through him, lips parted, and a constant hold of confusion spread over her face. ] Damon -- [ speaking to him as if he's an infant ] if I'd died? Don't you think I would remember that? And...Travelers? [ In this, there's no confusion, only disdain. ] Since when have you or Stefan been around any of that breed of vile witch? [ Hey hey, looks like she's knows that they exist, which doesn't help her case much, for timeline's sake: just because she's known about Travelers all her life doesn't mean she ever wanted to bring them up with, oh, anyone. She hates them, has every reason to. More so than she knows. ]
I don't know what you're talking about, or what crawled into your brain and died, leading you to craft wild accusations. I don't even know who the hell Wes Max-whatever is. But? [ Her nose scrunches, head shaking, arms crossing loosely over her chest. ] You owe me another shirt, and, right now? More. Details. You're not making sense, Damon. Because the last time I even saw Elena? She was around town, doing Elena things. [ Her brows lift, tone a little cynical. ] Your every day, run of the mill, dull, girl next door human things. [ No emphasis on human, but she tosses it in because why not. ] Far, far away from you and I were going. [ Not a lie!! She gives a bitter laugh, eyes almost rolling. ] Did it take being pulled away from her, this far, however the hell that's happened, [ this town, man ] for you to become so obsessed with another version of me that you really think you're in love with her?
[ Okay, maybe she deserved to get stabbed. She's trying to logic her way through the obvious discrepancies, not jumping to timeline differences. Because, who would? ]
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[ Her tone infuriates him. She's infantilizing him, speaking to him like he's a child and not a vampire over a hundred years old. Ironically, someone she may have cared for (tough to say, really) was a Traveler but maybe he'll never say the name, Nadia. Then again, telling Katherine she found and lost a daughter would be a knife Damon could twist in the future.
He listens, not liking everything that is coming from her mouth. It's a wonder he has nothing else sharp with which to stab her. He did contaminate this poor dipstick's dip stick, though.
Once again, worth it.
He keeps up with her, that familiar disdain for Elena cropping up, but one thing stands out. ] Around town. You saw Elena around town. [ Because of Bonnie? What's happened back home that he doesn't know about? She must be worried. They all must be. Luckily, this time he and Stefan are in it together and Stefan's not off tearing his life apart. Yeah, he heard about Ivy.
His hands come to her shoulders now. ] Don't lie to me, Katherine. You saw Elena up and around, walking, talking, and not in a coffin? She's awake?
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[ Which Damon knows about, Elena's state of being alive. Her stare holds upon him. A flash of ache, something like jealously, flits over her features. ] Last I could tell, you didn't seem very impressed with her -- or anyone else other than yourself, Damon. What changed? [ Uh, lots. ]
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He furrows his brow, dropping his hands when she removes them. Nothing that she says tracks. Nothing. ] What's the last thing you remember?
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[ Now that's she's considering it? Damon and Stefan do seem different than she last remembers them, at home. But what the hell that means, she doesn't know. ]
That can't be possible. [ Yet it apparently is? ]
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[ He's remembering. No wonder she came in friendly, white flag waving away so to speak. Because last she remembered they were chummy and Damon was feeling like getting out of town. ]
It's not. It's your memory. [ Maybe that's it. ] You've just remembered halfway. [ Maybe? ] Someone doesn't want you or us to know how you being here at all is possible. [ And with that, he's pacing away and back. ]
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Now sing (maybe closer to the end of the month depending)
What might strike Katherine's interest however, is the fact that this woman's face is covered with scars that appear surgical and they crisscross across her face in sections.]
any time works for me!
She continues to browse, but is purposeful with her steps. Window shopping taking a backseat, even if it looks like she's still doing so. Subtly noting what section of the store the woman is browsing. Stopping a couple of displays away, one also comprised of bras, her hands go through a few items before she glances over. Her voice is smooth and easy. ] I hope you don't think it's strange to make small talk in here because that -- [ she nods at the bra the other woman holds, brows lifting approvingly ] is really cute. Looks comfy too.
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You think so? I'm still undecided.
[She holds it up to give Katherine a better view.]
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[ A beat. ] Which was a not very clever way to ask how long you, well, remember [ she guesses that's the safe way to say it ], being here. [ Has anyone who she may be in a relationship, etc, with. Not that details are being hinted at, amazingly enough. Plus, she doesn't strike Katherine as your regular townie. ] In town.
let's go with 14th. Before Jiaying gets her past memories back
[The way that question was asked makes her glance over at Katherine meaningfully then quickly covering up with a genial smile.] The accident is still muddling my memories. The things I remember surrounding that date is fuzzy at best. [A vague enough way to indicate both pasts, she hopes.]
perfect
Me too. My accident had me believing I was a completely different person. [ Carelessly discussing the impersonation of Elena that her memory-dampened self was fully devoted to being a true identity of hers. Hey, Damon's not around to hear her being so flippant (not that he'd be surprised.) ] But a couple of friends helped me out of that.
[ Most people probably don't want someone hovering while they pick out undies, and still she remains. Brows knitting as a thought strikes her, she adds ] I'm Katherine, by the way. I guess I left my manners before my accident too. [ A chuckle. ]
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You’re not cold in that?
[The only thing really keeping her warm at the moment is her leather jacket, which she happened to be wearing when she got in her car accident.]
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Her head cants, looking at that sweater with an analyzing gaze. ] I haven't figured out how they get away with most of the fashion atrocities in any of the stores I've been into here. That one's not... [ her nose gives a little scrunch ] the worst. It'd keep you warm, anyway.
[ A beat. ] I'm Katherine.
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Yeah, it's about the only thing I've seen here that doesn't look completely terrible. At least it doesn't have a turtle neck?
[Skye held her hand out as she introduced herself.]
Skye. I'm guessing you've been wandering around here too hoping to find something that isn't so bright?
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[ She offers her hand as well, faintly nodding with the name until it blossoms into a firmer action. ] No one looks good in neon. [ A glance away, fingertips brushing out over a white top, streaks of green and pink over its front. ] I'm here for a few other things too. Stuff to make me feel a little more...at peace with myself. [ Because makeup and hair tools truly do do that for Katherine Pierce.
She gives an assessing look over Skye, deciding that she'll probably do in terms of a compulsion victim but she also prolongs it with another statement. ] Do you like makeup? Doing your hair? [ Does Skye? Katherine only knows what she's seeing then and there. This line of questioning isn't necessary, but maybe she's bored. Or, maybe she has other reasons for stretching it out. ]
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[She was being sarcastic of course. Although, to be fair, at the time Skye did wear that skirt a lot. Following her hand to see what she was looking at, Skye smiled lightly.]
Yeah. I get that.
[Nothing said peaceful like clothing that didn't blind you just by looking at it. Skye figures she's just as bored as she is and just wants to make conversation, which is beyond okay with her.]
When I have the time, yeah.
[Normally she kept it pretty light and natural looking, like today with overshadow colors that weren't too dark against her skin tone.]
I'm guessing you do too?
[Judging by the curls in her hair.]
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[ Her brows knit slightly, one hand moving to touch over the rather tame curls of her hair. ] I actually wear them more pronounced, when I have the right tools. But... [ she steps in closer, moving to rest fingers over Skye's shoulder, coming quickly into her comfort zone, establishing that eye contact vampires knows and love ] ...it doesn't seem like anyone thought to leave mine in my house. Rude, don't you think?
[ And up until then, no compulsion, but she lets it slip in. Finally. ] First of all, stay calm. Secondly. Would you help a girl acquire what she needs for that? With a new curling iron from here? Tell me the truth. [ Not that she has a choice. Playing games, before getting to the brunt of it, Katherine? Well. Legit. ] Would you want to do that, for me? [ Let's establish your character here, Skye: would you help a sister out? ]
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Now Sing
He's in helping Malia out for the night. It's been twelve hours on his feet at this point, but it's better here than the empty house. As the sole owner of Weaver's the kid couldn't exactly tell him off.
Of course, this does fuck and all for his already meager customers service skills. ]
What d' you want? [ he grumbles, not bothering to turn to see who'd just sat down. ]
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My first drinks at this lovely place you have? [ A smile, even if he can't yet see it: she's icing on the jovial tone, waiting for him to turn. ] Which I'd like to start with bourbon. Neat. Whatever you got that's your version of top-shelf?
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[ Top of the shelf's pretty drab at the moment. A couple steps up from generic, but then he still needs to sort out just what the hell the Mayor was willing to tolerate being exported here.
It's not like he can leave and actually scout the damn places around them for suppliers.
He plucks the bottle off of it's spot before finally turning to face the woman, grabbing a cup off the rack. ]
Ice? No ice?
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Oh...well, he's not human (obviously) so maybe he doesn't realize that she answered that already. ] None, like I said? [ Her brows lift, almost considering a 'please.' To keep up appearances.
As he turns again, she has to ask -- ] So, any family in town? [ Chatting up the bartender, it's totally normal. Plus, she wants to know if there are other aliens around or what. ]
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((Sorry dude.))
Either way, he fixes the drink up for her with minimum fuss and pretty much none of his usual showmanship. Not that anyone really got much showmanship from him to begin with, but he's solidly in the 'surly' end of customer servicing right now. ]
Not a one,[ he says flatly, setting the glass down in front of her. ] Only Turian in town. You usually this nosy 'bout people's families?
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Thankfully, Katherine may act a little less than polite sometimes, but she also doesn't care about customer service. Although, she is pondering if the act of mind compulsion works on, well, whatever he is. Oh. A Turian. Either way, a passing thought.
She takes the drink in hand, starting to bring it up to sip from before he continues, setting the glass back down. Her brows lift. ] A lot of the time, actually. What's life if you don't ask people questions? I do. Have family in town, for the record. Turian, huh? Interesting. [ A long sip. ] Must've immigrated in, then. Not that I'm asking about that. Town notices and all. [ ... do you think he cares about continuing to engage in conversation, Katherine? Apparently...so? ]
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