entrancelogs | (no subject)

Who: Damon Salvatore + OTA (but he's going to attack people who annoys him, just so you know)
Where: around mansion
When: 24th of July - 30th of July
Rating: PG-13 at least
Summary: Elena disappeared. Damon is a mess.
The Story:

Damon cannot find Elena anywhere. Never mind that the last time he saw her she was defending the asshole that tried to kill him. She is nowhere in the mansion at all, and Damon searches each and every single corner for her, busting down doors, looking for her wherever he can look as he drinks from multiple bottles of bourbon. He always has one in hand as he darts around the mansion, shoving down doors, rough housing people who might know where Elena's at. No one has satisfying answers.

He's dangerous.

He's angry.

He's not to be messed with at the moment, tearing down the hallways, flipping over shelves and anything that happens to be in his way in his anger, in his sheer frustration

and refusal to accept. He leaves a path of destruction wherever he goes, broken tables, holes in walls, a path of destruction left behind him. Broken doors and broken walls.

Damon doesn't give a fuck.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Most anyone would probably advise one shouldn't take their eyes off of someone... something in the state Damon's in, but Victor does. He looks at the overturned furniture, the liquor bottle, taking in variables at a glance. All the signs and symptoms of a larger condition. By virtue of the answer, the purely rational side of his brain can see the logic behind Damon's erratic, inhuman display.

Elena's missing. And for whatever reason, her whereabouts matter to Damon.

"When did you last see her?" Time to turn the question around. The news of her disappearance gives Victor something to chew on, and it steadies him somewhat. At least enough to smother the impulse to shove his chair back and put some much needed distance between them.

Something is very right when it comes to Damon at the moment (all the time if he were to convince people of what he wants them to know always. He's a monster. When people see good, they expect good, and he is not.

He is anything but. It was true long before the blood and death turned him into a vampire).

The question takes him by surprise. He's not expecting it. "Yesterday. It's a long time."

especially given the fact that Klaus is here, given the fact he doesn't trust Wonderland for a moment.

His hand tightens over the chair that he's sitting in, breaking off the back of it with a simple touch.

In the silence that falls after Damon's admission, the sound of the wood cracking apart is deafening. Victor turns to look at the now ruined chair, at the deceptively human hand attached to it. He's brought back to another time and place: Dracula's hand around Malcolm's throat, strangling the life out of him with one thin hand.

Damon's like him, he realizes. He's like Dracula, but Victor can't think about that right now. If he thinks about it, he'll open the door to fear instinct and pure, animal instinct, and he can't do that. He has to shut that part of him off. The creatures of the night don't have any power over him.

"There's still time," he hears himself saying as if from the other side of a long tunnel. He turns back around. He looks up at Damon, but he's trying to look through him, not into those chilling blue eyes that would most certainly freeze his blood. "If she's missing but her belongings remain and she's still a part of the network, there's still time for her to return. A week is the baseline. Any longer, and then you should worry."

Edited 2016-08-07 07:25 (UTC)

Damon lifts himself up until he is standing. He creates space if only because he knows it is true. There's still time, and it is not only Elena never coming back which ~~scares~~ angers him. It's the week where she is there, and he is here, because he knows what happens in Mystic Falls. He has watched it tear her down time and time again, and he can feel his own panic crawl up inside of him like a snake, wrapping around his rib cage.

He can't rid himself of the worry and the fear and the anger which comes with both of those. It's easier to be hated. It's easier to be angry too.

"I know." It doesn't stop him from shaking down anyone who might have interacted with Elena for even a moment as if they will have the answers he can't find on his own (he knows they won't, he knows down within the marrow of his bones that she's not here.) "And I also know the little dangerous town that she is going to return to."

And whether or not a baby shifts Klaus' priorities (he is certain it does), he also knows one other reason why Elena would no longer interest him at all (if her blood became unusable, if she died, if she became a vampire like him).

Relief floods in to fill the space Damon had occupied up until a second ago. Anger still seems to pour off of him like heat waves, but it feels safer to breath when the tightly-wound emotion is no longer in his face, about to explode. Victor sits up a little straighter, doing his best to ignore the cracked and broken chair.

What makes him all the more uneasy is Damon admitting he knows he has to wait but is moving through rooms like a tornado, anyway. Not the most reassuring display of control over his emotions. Mystic Falls is no doubt dangerous because of people like this, but that is something he knows better than to mouth off.

"There's nothing anyone can do about it from here unless you find a way to overpower this place. She could just as easily return having remembered being home only for a few minutes or hours."

How well will a voice of reason mix with that bottle of spirits? God only knows.

Damon grimaces as he stands there, staring around at the destruction he made. There's no dead bodies this time so really he's doing better than his normal. He glances back at Victor, holding that in his head. There's no defeating this place. There's no overpowering it. Klaus can't. He's the oldest vampire. No witches are.

"And there's no telling. I get it."

He lets out a breath between his teeth.

His teeth flash a moment, sharp, made for sucking blood. His eyes darken. His veins stand out, but he's not drinking Victor's blood so y'know. Growth.

"We'll just have to see then."

No dead bodies yet. Victor is convinced that could change, and that conviction only goes stronger when Damon looks back at him and it's not a creature looking out from behind human eyes anymore, he's just a creature inside and out, veins expanding under his skin, blood filling the whites of his eyes.

He's seen this before. He knows what it means. Vampire.

"Then--"

Victor shoots to his feet. He doesn't raise his voice (there's no point) or attempt to push that face away from him, the same face Elena's Mirror had made after a recent feeding (there's no point), but if he's going to end up like the chair, he'd rather be standing.

"You should understand there's nothing to find here." Here, menacing him. Attacking him won't bring Elena back any quicker (there's no point in that, either).

Damon grins at Victor as he shoots to his feet so abruptly in his fear, because he's radiating that fear. Damon is a predator. It's in times like these when Damon's all monster that he loves people being afraid of him, because they should be. They should not believe he can be more. They shouldn't believe he is their friend, that he doesn't hear their blood pumping through their veins, that he couldn't tear their hearts out of their chest in a second without flinching, without caring because he's killed so many people.

What's one more?

"I do understand."

Yet still he was here prolonging this for longer than necessary. He's aware, and he doesn't care about that either. He tilts his head to the side then before he dashes off in the opposite direction.

No, there are no dead bodies left in his wake. Not this time.

Damon gets what he wants this time. Victor isn't seeing the curious, circumspect young man from the library, he's seeing the destruction the vampires from his own world have wrought. The blood. The pale misery. Malcolm's grief for a lost child. Vanessa's lifetime of fear.

And this is almost worse because those vampires hadn't had a choice in giving up their humanity. Damon does and he's making it--Victor thinks he's making it.

Surprisingly, those razor sharp fangs don't land in his throat in a drunken moment of vampiric temper. One ominous statement and a blink later, and the dark-haired man is blurring back out of the room, leaving the abused furniture the only real sign he'd been there, aside from the cold dread settled in Victor's stomach.

Staring blankly ahead, he lets out a slow, shaky breath. Elena has some explaining to do.