Damon Salvatore (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
forworse) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2015-04-15 06:14 pm
forworse) wrote in entrancelogs2015-04-15 06:14 pm
Uncover our heads and reveal our souls
Who: Damon and Evie, and Pepper
Where: The Library & The Gallery
When: April 5th
Rating: R for Violence
Summary: Damon chews on a few people once he arrives in wonderland nbd.
The Story:
[ Showing up in Wonderhell had been jarring, especially since one moment Elena was talking to him and the next moment he was in front of a mansion. He took it with a grain of salt though, not exactly sure how to explain it yet. Witches maybe... But Elena's words rang in his head, the same words that Katherine had said.
It will always be Stefan.
And maybe he should just accept that, maybe he should stop caring, stop feeling and turn it off. Everyone knows that you can't really turn it off when you get older, it always comes back to haunt you. Sometimes it's hard to cope.
He has no issue invading the mansion, floor after floor until he comes across a bar - not what he was expecting, but certainly not against anything he was feeling.
Drink after drink, made the sting dull into anger and made his rage dull into apathy.
Aimless wandering, bottle in hand leads him to the Gallery, keying in on Pepper's hearbeat almost immediately. He'd probably feel bad for shoving her up against a wall to sink his fangs into her, if he didn't come back with a mouthful of molten lava, leaving him yanking away from her almost immediately. That certainly wasn't vervain. ]
What the hell?!
[ It feels like he'd tried to drink fire.
--
After that mess of trying to eat someone and his face nearly being melted off, he continues to wander, still hungry. Damon ends up at the Library, drawn by the beating of a heart - he was hungry and at this point, he'd eat someone in the middle of that bar he'd stolen the bottle of Vodka from. What he comes across is a rather pretty young woman - just what his diet called for! How did you know Wonderhell? ]
It's a little late to be in a library, isn't it?
Where: The Library & The Gallery
When: April 5th
Rating: R for Violence
Summary: Damon chews on a few people once he arrives in wonderland nbd.
The Story:
[ Showing up in Wonderhell had been jarring, especially since one moment Elena was talking to him and the next moment he was in front of a mansion. He took it with a grain of salt though, not exactly sure how to explain it yet. Witches maybe... But Elena's words rang in his head, the same words that Katherine had said.
It will always be Stefan.
And maybe he should just accept that, maybe he should stop caring, stop feeling and turn it off. Everyone knows that you can't really turn it off when you get older, it always comes back to haunt you. Sometimes it's hard to cope.
He has no issue invading the mansion, floor after floor until he comes across a bar - not what he was expecting, but certainly not against anything he was feeling.
Drink after drink, made the sting dull into anger and made his rage dull into apathy.
Aimless wandering, bottle in hand leads him to the Gallery, keying in on Pepper's hearbeat almost immediately. He'd probably feel bad for shoving her up against a wall to sink his fangs into her, if he didn't come back with a mouthful of molten lava, leaving him yanking away from her almost immediately. That certainly wasn't vervain. ]
What the hell?!
[ It feels like he'd tried to drink fire.
--
After that mess of trying to eat someone and his face nearly being melted off, he continues to wander, still hungry. Damon ends up at the Library, drawn by the beating of a heart - he was hungry and at this point, he'd eat someone in the middle of that bar he'd stolen the bottle of Vodka from. What he comes across is a rather pretty young woman - just what his diet called for! How did you know Wonderhell? ]
It's a little late to be in a library, isn't it?
no subject
I should be asking that to you. What are you, one of those vampires?
no subject
What is wrong with you?!
[ Because what kind of witch can do that without a second thought. ]
Do you just expect vampires to try to drink you like a margarita?
[ That knife has him raising an eyebrow though. ]
If you know what I am why in the world did you pull that out? What are you going to do, stab me to double death? Newsflash, I'm already dead!
no subject
[Clearly whoever this person is, his priorities are messed up. But this situation is one entirely in Pepper's favor; he can move faster than her, but he can't actually hurt her without doing himself just as much harm. A faint grin flickers over her lips, and she tilts her head to one side, not enough to open a gap in her defense, but just so he can see exactly what's come of his bite.
There's no trace of his attempt to do her harm left. Just the fire that burns within her and unbroken skin.]
Not exactly.
[Pepper's never encountered a vampire before, only heard of them here. But she pays attention enough to know what's just happened--and maybe the knife would be a mistake if she wanted to kill him.
Lucky for her, that isn't the goal.]
For someone's who's dead, it looked like you were in a lot of pain just now. That means I don't have to kill you--I just need to make sure you don't go after anyone else.
no subject
Do you know how many witches I've dealt with, you really think you're going to be the one that stops me? Let's just agree to disagree, forget this ever happened and go our separate ways.
[ He says that like he wouldn't snap her neck the moment she tried to turn away. ]
I hurt you, you hurt me, there's no point in making this a pointless murder. I let you run along and you... get whatever heroic ideas that are fluttering through your mind and let them flutter away.
[ He makes a motion with his hands that looks like fluttering. ]
Otherwise I'm going to take that knife of yours and jam it in your eye. [ He's been having a hard time with the Elena bullshit, and the fact that he's drunk doesn't make him any nicer. ]
no subject
[Good thing Pepper isn’t turning away, then.]
I’m going to guess you’re new here, right? Because murder really is pointless when no one stays dead. [Given that he doesn’t seem to know that already, maybe it’ll be enough to put him further off balance in a way she can use.] Even if you did manage to kill me—and you should believe me when I say that is exceptionally hard to do—I would just revive thanks to the magic in this world.
And you? You’d end up with a lot more trouble than you’re after. If you think my ideas are heroic, you should meet my friends who are actual superheroes.
no subject
His agitation is evident, the way he lets out a heavy sigh, and here he thought he could just grab a bite to eat and get the hell out of dodge. When is his luck ever that easy - it was in New York.
Well, if she'll just come back he's going to refrain from the blurring behind her and snapping her neck and instead take the easy route out of this mess, which apparently involves moving back towards her at a very relaxed pace. That knife might hurt, but he's had way worse, and he's not very scared of metal. ]
Giving you one last chance.
[ Because he's such a nice guy... ]
no subject
[Genetically enhanced, but in the end Pepper refuses to let fear win over belief and call herself anything else. Certainly not in front of this vampire, who seems very content with attacking random people in order to feed.]
How generous of you. [But like Damon, she isn't backing down. Everything she's said has been the truth, and any injury he doles out would only continue to trigger Extremis' power. Not that she's going to let him get that far--the metal isn't her only weapon, and Pepper takes in a breath, focusing on Damon as she wills her temperature to rise, the light under her skin glowing brighter for it. Even touching her will burn him, and that is something she highly doubts he wants.]
I ALMOST FORGOT ABOUT THIS TBH
Evelyn is on-edge and rightly so, shuffling the last of her things together to leave the study area the way it had been before she arrived and that solace is rudely interrupted by a by a figure swaggering out of the shadows.
Her knowledge of film and television tropes is sadly limited, being a denizen of the year 1935, but she knows the implications of a statement like that. (She would, of course, also argue that she is thirty, and that hardly constitutes as "young," but compared to an immortal lifetime she might as well be a fetus.)]
...Hello,
[she greets the intruder with no small amount of suspicion, wondering whether it would be bad form to reach for the pistol she keeps in the upper desk drawer.]
I- ...was just tidying up. Isn't it a little late to be startling women in the library?
IM SORRY
[ Damon doesn't hesitate to stroll towards her, only stopping in front of her to lock eyes with her, and oooh look at the pretty blue eyes, that are sure do dilate after he speaks. Oh, compulsion is a gift. If she tries to flee, she'll find herself stuck for some reason. ]
Don't run.
[ He sighs, offering her the bottle he's been drinking from. ] I've been having a really bad night. First the girl I like - who happens to look exactly like my ex who I was stupid in love with who told me she'd always love my brother more than me - tells me that she'll always choose my brother. Two freakin' girls, who look the exact same, saying the same damn thing! Then I blink and I'm in front of this mansion. I tried to grab a bite to eat, but then I end up nearly getting my face melted off.
[ He frowns. ] It makes me wonder when did I turn into Stefan? I'm not my brother - why am I trying to play the good guy when the girl I love obviously thinks I'm a bad guy already. So you're my dilemma right now - do I say screw it all, and go back to embracing my vampire behaviour or do I keep trying to be something I'm not?
See, everything in me is saying to tear your throat open, but then there's that tiny little Stefan sounding voice that says "Damon, don't do it."
But, I really hate Stefan right now.
no subject
[Evelyn manages politely as he approaches, and her fingers twitch for the pistol that isn't there. Discomfort grows substantially as he breaches her bubble of personal space and a very striking pair of eyes flicker over hers. Don't run, he says, and she almost wants to scoff. Evelyn is tired of being manipulated, of being intimidated, of being afraid and used.
Don't run - as if she would when there is a weapon nearby, entirely capable of handling herself.
...Or she would be, if she could move a single muscle.
Casual upset turns to genuine concern when a bottle is pushed into her hands, lacking odour but doubtless a variety of alcohol. The Handsome, Blue-Eyed Stranger continues unabated, his rambling foray into romantic and familial issues something that Evelyn is neither qualified for nor desirous of this late in the evening.
The territory is not unfamiliar to Evelyn, who spent the better part of an event several years ago as a vampiric creature, gorging in a most undue fashion, but being backed against her desk in an empty library with someone fond of pontification and imbibing blood is a terrible place to find oneself.]
Well.
[Swallowing, Evelyn's brows knit at him in vague confusion. Is this...a drunk vampire?]
I am...very fond of my throat intact. [A beat.] Surely there is a middle ground that involves less...evisceration. You are terribly soused.
no subject
To each their own.
[ He takes a step back, picking up one of the nearby books, flipping through it before setting it back down. He turns back on her in a sudden jerky movement, hands moving to rest on both of her shoulders. ]
I know, I know. I'm very fond of not feeling like this - but we don't always get what we want. Middle ground? You're right, there's got to be something... But that's what Stefan and Elena would want, isn't it? I've got to better myself to deserve them. In the end it doesn't matter because it's always going to be Stefan.
It's nothing against you - it's not like I hate you. I don't even know you!
[ He leans down to rest his forehead against hers for a moment, closing his eyes in thought. ]
It's just what I'm supposed to do. I can hear your heart pounding in your chest, and it just makes me hungrier.
[ When he pulls back, there are dark veins under his eyes, the corners of which are no longer white but a reddish colour, contrasting with the blue of his iris. But the most prominent feature are the fangs. ]
If I had killed her when I'd met her, none of this would have ever happened.
no subject
It's like watching a bull carefully picking its way through a china shop, only to select very specific pieces to break.
Stefan. Elena. The names mean nothing to her, they're just words and titles of people she's never met and quite possibly will never meet. They are reasons for his anguish and her unsavoury position, individuals she should hate by default simply because they've put her here, a red vase on the shelf in the china shop.
His forehead presses to hers and Evelyn can do.....nothing, nothing but wait while he talks - and God, but doesn't he appear to love the sound of his own voice? - livid that she can't so much as step away. When he lifts his chin again those striking eyes are reddened, the tipsy smile glints with menace.
A fourth life down the sodding drain and barely two months have passed.]
...You can't change history, [she hazards, treading on thin ice and feeling it crack beneath her as she scrambles for apropos vagueries.] Just your future.
no subject
[ He lets out an annoyed sigh. ]
It's a predicament; do I pretend to be something I'm not? No - you're right. It doesn't matter anymore.
[ A pause, where he simply looks at her, they say not to get attached to victims; but he can't help but notices the expressions that pass over her face, hear her heart being a mile a minute... ]
I should just live for me, instead of waiting a century for someone who didn't love me to begin with. Or worrying about what Elena thinks. I don't need either of them!
[ With that, a hand moves to brush her hair away from the side of her throat. ]
Don't scream. [ Well, that's foreboding. ]
no subject
Damon - if that is indeed his name - relays his qualms and and despite her best efforts at appearing calm and cool-headed in all of this she can hear her heart pounding in her head like the percussion section at the Turf Club on jazz night. He looks and there is precious little she can do, torn between mouthing off for the sake of verbally tearing him a new one, and silence.
Wholly unqualified for therapy work and altogether too impatient a person to tolerate shenanigans on the first go-around, Evelyn would be moderately happy that Damon Whatever-his-surname-is has come into a realisation about his identity were she not frozen in place and thinking of how cold she'll feel very shortly.
Evelyn loathes the cold.
In lieu of shrieking, which he must be familiar with in his line of work, she gives him a steely look and visibly inhales as his fingers curl past her neck. Uncomfortably close now, he smells of something sharp soaked in liquor.]
What's the point in screaming?
no subject
What a good little victim. He'd probably feel bad for her if he weren't drunk and hungry - despite what it seems like, Damon Salvatore does in fact have humanity, and has had for a long time...
Which sucks.
Her question is ignored in favour of him sinking his teeth into the spot right above her jugular. And while he could easily get lost in the taste of her blood, let the bloodlust take over and drain her until her heart has nothing to pump, like a capri sun; it only lasts a couple painful moments before he pulls back, to settle a look on her, bright blue eyes surprisingly sympathetic. The look on his face might be kind, or remorseful if it weren't for the blood dripping down his chin. ]
I'm not going to kill you... Here.
[ He moves back from here a little bit, and brings his wrist up before sinking his teeth into it. God, the poor girl probably thinks he's trying to turn her because then he's holding it out to her. ]
Drink.
[ Vampire blood isn't just for turning people, luckily for her, it also heals injuries. ]
no subject
Once you've taken your licks and gotten back up again, it's easy to bear. Once you've carried a child to term and spent nine hours pushing him out of your body, cuts and bruises don't register, anything worse is only mildly annoying unless physically debilitating. The teeth in their own right don't hurt, dulled by shock and the seconds of ungainly swallowing on his end that seems so loud in the quiet of the library, and the force itself draws the breath out of her.
For those precious few moments the shiver creeps in and across her skin, he withdraws and the modicum of comfort she should feel is drowned in the wake of sudden exhaustion. Still frozen in place no thanks to Count Dracula's cousin Evelyn frowns, uncomprehending, at the proffered wrist dripping red on the front of her blouse.
What should come out of her indignant and loud is a much quieter statement of confusion. It's been too long since she read Bram Stoker. Wasn't there a process for turning?]
...you must be joking.
no subject
[ He's not worried about her dying with it in her system, but maybe he should compel her to go home anyway... Yeah, that's exactly what he'll do. ]
And then we're going to walk you to your room and you're going to get plenty of rest and stay well hydrated. Oh, and you're also not going to bring any of this up with anyone - ever.
Alright, go on. [ He moves his arm as if to say hurry it up. What a weird proposal for turning someone, she must think. Not that he has any intention of turning her. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. He knows that, he does, and she's right, he can't change the past but he can certainly change the future. ]
no subject
Dazed and confused and most certainly disinterested in what Damon is offering, Evelyn therefore finds it alarming when he insists upon the act and she feels herself nod. The hand holding his vodka deposits the bottle on the desk behind her, his suggestion is logical, sound. Drink the blood. Have several glasses of water. Go to bed. Remain quiet.]
Mum's the word,
[she quips even under duress, and with his prompting pulls his wrist closer, gently. There is no hesitation but in lieu of that Evelyn maintains the prim formality of any lady of Buckinghamshire: excellent posture and a lifted chin as she closes her lips around the puncture wounds, the taste of iron hot on her tongue.]
no subject
He's got so much control - he could easily snap her neck, turn her into a creature like him, or he could simply heal the injury on her throat. He could so easily flip the switch and turn the emotions off so he felt nothing but the bloodlust.
And for a moment he's deciding what he actually wants to do as he withdraws his wrist from her once the injury on her throat is healed fully.
But he sticks to what he promised her out loud, no neck snapping, no taking his frustration out on someone else to try to feel some sense of control by ruining someone else's life.
At the same time - being a vampire meant he had no control at all. Heightened emotions made him feel everything like a bad case of manic depression. Being a vampire meant he had to hurt people to survive. Being a vampire meant when you're as old as Damon there isn't really any turning it all off - not really; in the end Damon still felt all of it. He felt the guilt, the pain, the anger.
Being a vampire meant that when his brother had manipulated him into taking the plunge, to feed for the first time and seal his fate he would never have control of his life ever again.
This poor woman, who found the bravado to quip at a monster as he attacked her - she was so lucky.
He reaches out to wipe blood from her lower lip before giving her a look that had so many different emotions mixed in it, it's hard to tell what kind of look it is. ]
No taking any ridiculous risks tonight. Not while that's in your system.
no subject
Evelyn shivers, eyes half-lidded and nodding because she hasn't the sense to do anything else but nod. He could have killed her - he could still kill her - but she remains in reasonably stable shape, wavering on an edge between consciousness and a lucid dream.]
Mhm.
[Unable to begin moving on her own Evelyn reaches for a shirtsleeve to stabilise herself, swaying ever so slightly and feeling awfully sleepy. A small person, any amount of blood loss tends to be paling at best.]
Straight to bed.