open ; welcome to the inner workings of my mind

[persevere]

Who: Caroline Forbes + You + Closed Starters
Where: Everywhere
When: July 6th to the end of the month
Rating: This will get gory, most likely.
Summary: Caroline returns to Wonderland, but she's not quite herself these days...
The Story:

Deux Lux

[Caroline Forbes is here most nights, drinking the night away and dancing on any flat surface she can find no matter the height. She never drinks herself into oblivion because she wants to be at her best, on guard for any of her 'friends' that might feel the need to step in.

She doesn't want help. Anyone with half a brain could see she's just fine.

She's more than willing to dance with anyone who's willing, just don't let her pull you off to that dark corner or you might end up with a few puncture wounds and missing any recollection of the last couple of hours.]

Lake

[She actually carted an inflatable lounge chair out here, and anyone in her path would have seen a blonde blur as she doesn't even bother to hide the fact that she's different. The sun is out and she's in her bikini, hair tied into braided pigtails, sporting a pair of dark shades as she lazily kicks around in the water, catching some rays.

Sometimes you can catch her sunbathing on the edge of the water, too, laying casually out on a towel. Vampire or no, she still likes catching some rays.]

Mikaelson Rooms

[Those who are aware of her living arrangements or any of the others that live there as well can find her lounging in various common areas, usually with a drink in hand, and can be summoned to answer anyone who might knock at the door. She's almost always bored, biding her time with liquor and playing with her phone, stalking messages in search of juicy gossip and drama.

Or maybe she's looking for a snack. It's probably just fine, though.]

Choose Your Own Adventure

Feel free to set up anything anywhere. I'm very flexible.

Comments

[poppycock]

[ ​​​​he's aware she's fighting him every step of the way and he also doesn't particularly care, his grip a vice around her arm. good, is what he thinks; she should fight back and realize how futile it is to do so. only when she wrenches herself hard and they're well on their way downstairs does he pause. with a yank of his own, pulling her to face him closer, he admonishes, ] If you weren't acting like that, I wouldn't have to treat you as one. [ ​​​​his eyes hold a madness; his anger and frustrations at her display and what it signifies have not abated. with another tug, he continues at a human pace with her down the hall. ]

[persevere]

[There's a sharp tug on her arm, and suddenly she's face to face with him and his angry stare. Her gaze holds his, defiant and burning, likely no less mad, though hers is tinged with traces of sick amusement and apathy in equal measure.

She can't feel, but he can, and it's on display now.

And then he's pulling away but dragging her along regardless, and annoyance fills the rest of the space inside her, what little there is, her voice laced with venom.]

Just because you're jealous doesn't mean I'm the one that's acting like a kid. You don't own me. I'm totally cool with some hot hybrid hate-sex or whatever, but I don't have time for this whiny bullshit.

[poppycock]

[ he can feel, and it's what drives his ruthlessness now. he stalks down the hall with her in tow, veritably huffing at her snide remarks and crueler intent: he knows, underneath all the anger and ill-wish, that she is right. this only grates on him harder despite his silent admissions to her accusations.

he is jealous. she meant to make him so. (as such she should deal with consequences, he thinks just as blithely.) he doesn't own her. he can't make her stop, but it won't stop him from trying. outside these thoughts, there is only the irritation at her careless insults. klaus stops again and tugs her forward so they are face-to-face just as before.

(she is right. he also knows that his anger and jealousy aside, she wouldn't have forgiven herself for kissing or biting her new friend. and quite frankly, he knows how close she is to killing.)

his words are succinct and harshly dealt. his fingers dig into her skin. ] I don't have time for your incessant attempts for attention and entertainment, [ she was baiting him and she knows it; she meant to provoke this reaction and it's hardly his concern if it didn't play out in her favor. perhaps she should have known better. ] nor for the cleaning up of your inevitable mess. [ that same sick pleasure that was in her empty gaze enters his. he leans in to add, ] So I suppose we're all inconvenienced by this behavior.

[ with a whoosh they are in their bedroom. klaus releases her so that she falls atop their bed mid-movement.

there. that's better. his expression seems to say so, too. ]

[persevere]

[She squirms against his grip, but faces him with a defiant grin all the same. Perhaps she should be afraid, but she isn't. She needs to feel something to feel fear, and even then, she's almost certain he won't take his violent impulses to the extent he would need to to actually break her.

And if he did? She knows he'd be living with that guilt for a very long time.]

I never asked you to be there in the first place. You're practically stalking me. Maybe I just wanted you to leave.

[And that may have been part of it, but she feels vindication either way. Inconvenienced is a good word for how she feels about all this, though she's sure it cuts him far deeper than it does her.

Being unceremoniously dropped on a bed isn't exactly her idea of a good time, though. Not unless he's going to, you know, actually do something about it. She pushes herself up onto her elbows provocatively, not even bothering to adjust her dress, which is no doubt hanging rather astray from being jostled.]

You're the biggest hypocrite I've ever met. You don't actually care if someone drained that guy dry or screwed him senseless. You just don't want it to be me. You want to think I only did it because you were watching. Well, news flash Klaus, I'd be doing the same damn things whether you're there or not because I want to and it's fun. Just because you fathered some miracle baby after screwing the werewolf slut that got between me and my ex and had some sort of come to jesus moment doesn't make you a good person. You're not saving me. You just can't stand the thought that I might do something as sick and depraved as you.

[poppycock]

[ maybe she did just want him to leave. maybe she did in part seek to punish him for his weaknesses, for his black heart full of jealousies, for how he does hover and stalk. she's right; it does wound him. it does cut him deep, but what her taunting display and cruel words won't do is make their mark.

his eyes darken; his anger stirs, particularly at her insistence, at the jibe meant for hayley, the indirect mention of tyler, and the glib reference to his daughter. how unsubtle, the blows are, and if they do make some mark he refuses to show it. refuses the quarter for it. he grabs her ankles, drags her to the edge of the mattress, and leans over her, his lips inches from hers.

every word he speaks is true: he never claimed to care what happened to that man. he wouldn't. he is not a good person and his actions now are not in an attempt to be. he's perfectly capable of accepting the darker shades of her. under different circumstances, he would probably enjoy and revel in them. ]

On the contrary, I'm perfectly comfortable with whatever sick depravity your mind can conceive, and I don't believe or find joy in saving you from yourself. [ he is simply mitigating the damage. ] I would have gladly let that man's blood flow if that's what you truly wanted, but you don't want to have fun, sweetheart. You want to have power, because you've never felt more helpless in your entire existence. [ his voice a murmur, eyes flashing and dark, he says, ] I'm not the one with the complex.

[persevere]

Bullshit.

[The word flies out of her mouth the instant he finishes, her lips nearly brushing against his. His statement is a lie, one that she doesn't think he believes for a moment. He's right, she does have a complex, but she's never claimed not to be a control freak. He'd claimed she wouldn't take the cure given the chance, and she hadn't tried to deny it.

Becoming a vampire may have been the best thing that ever happened to her.

She liked being strong. He could call it a complex but he couldn't claim he didn't have his own.]

You're like the freaking king of complexes. Daddy issues, Mommy issues, abandonment, desire for power, intense paranoia. You practically have a freaking God complex so don't even try to stand here and try to convince yourself I'm the only one with the problem here.

[poppycock]

[ ​​​​he never claimed not to have plenty and then some. neither is he ever thrilled to hear them listed with such easy and complete logic and malice, particularly from those soft, pink lips that stir in him both perfect rage and frustrations. he leans back as she deals them, his already dark gaze nearly black, his expression calm and steady despite his burning anger.

it probably says something about his character that he's more bothered at her ripping into his god complex than any else. (or perhaps it's just the easiest and more relevant one to latch onto.) ] Gladly. [ he answers without pause, hovering more fully over her. ] But I am stronger, and I am faster, so that means you have to do as I say.

[ ​​​​and with that, he grabs her by the meat of her thigh, flips her over and yanks her legs fully off the bed. it's a dark, possessive impulse that drives him and one intent on proving his point. or at least goading and riling her up enough to stumble. he absolutely does smack her soundly on the ass.​

because he can, and entirely to rub her face in it.​ ]

[persevere]

[He thinks he has the upper hand because he's The Hybrid. Unfortunately, he's going to have to try a little harder than that, and as far as she can tell, the only one losing their cool is him.

The noise that leaves her throat is a coo instead of a gasp of rage, and she tosses her hair over her shoulder to look at him with raised brows, lifting her hips every so slightly as the smirk spreads across her face.]

Does that still apply if you're doing exactly what I want?

[She rolls over, her top half spread out across the bed, lifting her legs to hook around his.]

I always did like it when you got rough.

[poppycock]

[ he doesn't need his calm. klaus has has rarely if ever had one; his impulse has always been both his largest asset and greatest weakness. or perhaps that's her, here and now, tempting and taunting him to an edge he is always teetering on; a tension he did not realize was stretched so thin before it snaps.

the problem is he likes demonstrating his dominance a little too much. he likes and frustrates at the challenge and welcome she poses from it. he wants to bend and bruise her and put her in her place. he likes that she wants him to; they've always enjoyed the push and pull.

it's lust and rage that have him grabbing at her, uncoiling her from him with a speed and strength she could not fight if she wanted to do so. he pins her face down on the bed, a hand around the nape of her neck, his body pressed down on hers. it takes him a moment, his nose pressed into her hair, breath shaking, lips against her jaw, to remember exactly why he cannot take what he wants.

his exhale is heavy and long. he pushes her head slowly, further to the side to whisper to her, ] One day soon, I will.

[ he pushes himself off of her to retreat into the common area. she's still on house arrest okay. ]