show me your teeth

[eyething]

Who: Damon Salvatore and you
Where: All around the mansion
When: Backdated to the power loss day of the event
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Y'know, what's hard about being a superpowered vampire of over a hundred and fifty years? The day that those powers are just gone, and you drop your glass of blood all over the place because you're not used to being so weak and catching a cold. Available for people who want to discover Damon is a vampire. Also, available for people who want to deal w/ him being a big baby about his lack of powers... or people who want to laugh at him (just note he'll be pissed... and have his powers back after this day coughs).

~~~~
Damon Salvatore has been a big, bad vampire for over 150 years so when the event ends and all power has been stripped from him, he feels weaker than he has ever felt in his life. In truth, it's like when a person suddenly gets super powered, how they break everyday objects because they're not used to having so much strength. It's just the opposite, because Damon Salvatore is not used to having absolutely 0 vampire powers to count on.

It's why when he sits in the library, carrying one book is too hard for him. It slips out of his hands, and he tries to kick it in his anger, but it... doesn't go anywhere. So he tries to shove over a table in his rage, it's like he's hit a brick wall though, and he drops awkwardly, tripping over his own legs.

Somewhere in the middle of that day, he catches a cold, starts to cough and sniff and have a fever. As a bonus, there's not the hallucinations which came with the last time he had a fever, but he is not happy, wandering through the hallways, holding himself up by the wall, running into people along the way. He's trying to make it back to his room so no one witnesses him like this, but that seems like... a very far distance. Also, Elena is there, and he's embarrassed by his own display (or lack thereof).

It feels like desiccation so he thinks all he has to do is drink more blood. Clearly, his other self didn't drink enough blood because he didn't know he was a vampire instead of a mutant so that's obviously what the issue is, right?

He ends up in the dining room at a table with a cup of blood he could get from the closet, looking like he hates the world. On one of his attempts to pick it up and drink it, his hand shakes and he drops the blood on the table and himself. Teeth flash out from the inside of his mouth briefly, and then he coughs and makes a sound that's mostly a long sigh.

Witness the big bad vampire struggle to open his own room door. He's got some blood on him from the cup incident earlier. "Come on! I'll pull you open if I want to pull you open!" No, he doesn't need any help!!!

Comments

own room

[howkickassiam]

York doesn't really know Damon—he talked to him once on the network, but that's about all. He's walking through the hallways, though, on his way somewhere or another, when he sees Damon wrestling with the door down the hall. York keeps his commentary to himself for once, watching as he approaches, and eventually speaks up. "Is it locked? Because I'm a locksmith." He's happy to use his skill set to help out if he can, even if this is extremely simple compared to what he's capable of doing.

[eyething]

Damon turns toward the sound of the question, lifting an eyebrow. This is not how he would want anyone to find him at all, which is why there's a grimace on his face.

"No, it's not locked. I'm just--" He coughs against the door and then grimaces harder. "Not at my best."

[howkickassiam]

"Oh man, you sure aren't," York says with a sympathetic wince. "Listen, I know I'm not like, your buddy, or anything, but I can help you get settled in your room if you need me to...?" He knows it's hard for a man's pride to know he needs help from a stranger, but even worse than this would be trying to handle it all alone.

[eyething]

"Just... open the door," Damon says after a moment, avoiding the sympathetic wince as best as he can, which is not easy because.

Yeah. He just knows he doesn't want to be out there in the middle of the hallway yanking on a fucking door anymore. It doesn't make him any less of a total asshole though. Damon's always a total asshole.

[howkickassiam]

"Sure thing, man." He goes over and turns the knob and opens the door. It's easier than he expected, considering how much the man has been wrestling with it. "What do you know? Got it in one."

i couldn't resist his own room

[manipulative]

Katherine's a little drunk, but, shhh, it's a secret we simply don't tell.

Walking through the hallway, Katherine's on the first floor in an effort to explore it. And she can't quite zip her way up the stairs and to the third floor as easily as she could a few days ago. There's something about the way the walls seem to shake a little … or it's simply her and her shoes, not quite able to keep her as steady as she was a few hours ago.

The world's turning just a little. She feels as though she's on the deck of a ship rocking in the ocean's palm.

Katherine Pierce's immaculate curled hair is in a little disarray. Almost as though she'd been mistaken for a bird's nest, her hair sits on her head with a few tangles and leaves. There's a scratch on her neck and a long one curving along her collarbone. A bruise is forming on her elbow and perhaps even beneath her eye.

Seeing the pathetic display of Damon struggling with his door, her heels click against the ground as she comes to him. Instead of bypassing him, she curls her nails hard into his shoulder to pull him backward. Without a word, she elbows her way (hard) between him and the door. After a click, it swings wide open.

i am so glad you did not resist :')

[eyething]

Damon makes a face and lets out a sound when Katherine nails into his shoulder to pull him backward. Then he groans when Katherine suddenly elbows her way in front of him. He stares after her, because he- No, he has no idea she's drunk. He's too sick to drink which is too bad because he'd be grateful for how quickly it affects him now that he has no powers, no super healing. HE doesn't have to try to down a whole bottle just to feel that numbness, that burn.

He means to say something about... all of that, but he notices her hair being in disarray and that's just not like Katherine.

"...what the hell happened to you?"

Obviously no powers, but she's clearly not sick either.

i hope you're prepared for this to be the dumbest thread in history

[manipulative]

Rather than answer his question, Katherine shrugs her shoulders and walks into his room. "You're welcome," she says over her shoulder. If he won't walk in, she will. After all, it'd been her hard work and heroics that had saved him from hurting himself against the doorknob.

As conflicted as she feels toward Damon, more often than not simply content in his presence, she does think he deserves a better demise. Perhaps burnt alive, even eaten by a wolf. Being defeated by a doorknob will do absolutely nothing for his reputation.

Looking around his room, he finds that it's comforting in how it's so him. Seeing bits of him here and there that she can recognise — Katherine supposes she hasn't truly lost touch with herself, even if the person she'd been when they'd first met had been a reflection of someone who'd died five centuries ago.

The thought's too depressing, and so she decides to pull herself out of her own head. Turning around, she tilts her head and frowns. "Why do you look more horrible than you usually do, Damon?"

it's all i could have hoped for omg

[eyething]

Damon stumbles into his room too, coughing into his elbow as he goes, following her into his bedroom. He ends up collapsing on to the nearest chair that he can find, leaning his head back as he sinks into that chair. This is absolutely the worst. How do people deal with being this weak????

How do people even? It's very him (Thanks be to Ella who put together the visuals for his room).

"I'm sick, because I'm sure you've noticed we lost our powers, and in that time, I managed to contract some illness from someone who I'll fucking kill later."

But for now, he can do nothing but just... be sick.

It's the worst. God, he's shivering in this stupid fever. "I don't know why you hate me so much lately, but you helped with Klaus and with Stefan so... I don't."

Hate her.

drops this and runs

[manipulative]

This isn't a conversation she wants to have.

She doesn't want to have any conversation with any of them. It's in character for Elena to warn her of Klaus, for Damon to begrudgingly tag along with the act of kindness she's certain her doppelgänger will use against her later as a way to use the equivalent of a coupon for when Katherine supposedly 'owes' her.

It's easier to behave as she always has, minus the antagonism that'll end up getting someone killed. It's childish, but it's fun, and it keeps Katherine very, very safe. But she's walked right into a room where she doesn't feel it. Her hair is in disarray for the first time in centuries, showcasing exactly how Katherine Pierce feels.

Damon doesn't hate her. But she suspects he will, in time. She doesn't cling to it. She doesn't want to.

Looking at Damon, she lets her expression shift just a little. Watching him, she notes he isn't on his death bed. If he was, she'd …

She doesn't want to think she'd do anything.

"You're not dying, Damon," she rolls her eyes. She begins to walk, and instead of taking a tour by herself through his room, she walks into his bathroom and wishes with all her might for the thing she wants most to be in its cabinets. "Toughen up." He'll hear the tap running and Katherine letting that door slam, but not hard enough for any glass to shatter.

Later, she'll blame being depowered. Katherine cares very little for Damon. Holding the grudge of him ruining her peace in Pennsylvania and her fish tank, even when it had been without fish, is how she'll armour herself with him. She doesn't want to care.

She steps out with a glass of water and pills in her hand. Standing before him, she thrusts the cup out for him to take, palm open for him to pluck those pills from her. "You're pathetic," she says, but it isn't filled with its usual sharp acid. It's softer. "The first rule to being weak is to show that you're strong. Don't flop on the chair, either. It's horrible for your posture and breathing, and you're wrinkling your shirt."

room.

[interpersonal]

Losing the powers she so briefly acquired has no real effect on Elena, outside of being unsettled by Wonderland making them believe they lead such different lives. It takes more than a moment to shake off the memories that were and were not hers, and once she does, what else is there but to move forward? Wonderland plays its little games, and they have to get through them as best they can.

Elena's room is connected to Damon's through an adjoining door. She steps out of her bathroom after changing into her pajamas, and picks up her journal. She's a second away from moving over to her bay window when she hears it.

A sneeze, followed by a cough?

Hm.

Frown in place, Elena sets the journal down and opens the door that connects their rooms together. Her eyes carefully examine the room, low-lit as it is, and she finally takes a step forward. "Damon?"

hehe

[eyething]

Damon covers himself up with blankets in the bed even though he's hot all over, and he's coughing into the pillow, sweaty, looking miserable. He grimaces, shifting, until he hears the sound of the door opening. It's the adjoining door which connects their room, and he groans again into the pillow because he- he does not want Elena to see him like this

but he's also sick and in pain and doesn't want to- doesn't want to be without Elena.

It's a complicated, conflicted feeling inside of him right now. He shifts underneath the blanket.

"Yeah, I'm here. 'm fine."

Nevermind the fact he sounds like he's dying...

Again.

[interpersonal]

"You don't look fine."

Or sound fine, for that matter.

Her eyes go round with surprise as she stumbles upon the pitiful sight he makes on the bed. Elena being angry at Damon is so commonplace that most people who know them don't bat an eyelash when they are having a fight. But it's just as common for Elena to place aside their differences in moments like these. She ignores his protesting, and sits at the edge of his bed.

The cool of her palm settles over his forehead, and her brows lightly knot into a frown. He's a vampire. They don't get sick. Not like this. It's what she's always counted on. Vampires don't die. "Damon, you're burning up."

[eyething]

If being sick makes Elena place her anger at him aside, it makes him not care as much about being sick. He doesn't care about being human, about being powerless if Elena is near him, if Elena is talking to him, if Elena is taking care of him. Elena matters more than all the rest to him, and he can't say he's disappointed at having her here in his room even if he was trying to spare her of having to deal with this sick version of him, even if he didn't want her to have to see him like this.

He leans into her cool touch like it is a miracle, like it is all he could have ever hoped for, and it is. He reaches a weak hand up to wind around her wrist, tightening his hold on her there as he does so like he can keep her there.

Like he can erase all the reasons she ran from him to start with (because he is evil, because he is a monster).

"I have a fever."

It's said weakly.

"Don't leave. Please. I know I shouldn't have- I shouldn't have reacted the way I did to you being gone. I was scared. It's just easier... to be angry."

[interpersonal]

Elena's lost several key memories in Wonderland.

One of those memories involves Damon and a werewolf bite. It involves being at his bedside through the worst of it. She doesn't remember vowing to stay with him until the very end. She doesn't remember her tears, prompted by the certainty Damon would die. She doesn't remember forgiving him, though she has felt the absence of her anger for what he did ever since.

She doesn't realize this moment is strikingly similar to what she has forgotten.

Gaze softening, Elena removes the blankets he's hidden himself under, save for the one. With a fever this high, too many layers will do the opposite of helping in the long-run. "I wasn't planning on going anywhere," she says to him, her voice full with steadiness and resolve.

It's not in Elena to leave anyone she loves.

They don't have to talk about what happened while she was gone. Not right now, in any case. Her palm settles over his forehead again, wincing at how searingly hot he feels to the touch. "Have you taken anything yet?"

dining room!

[therapize]

This late in the day, it's become clear by now that no one in Wonderland has retained their powers. For Cami, that's perfectly fine; she's a human anyway, so for her the event is officially and completely over. Yet the same can't be said for others, and she's passing through the dining room with lunch in hand when she happens to catch sight of Damon's accident.

Looks like the lack of powers are both a blessing and a curse at the moment.

"Are you okay?" She knows he isn't. She's seen vampires injured, weakened and starving for blood. It's why she rushes over, because supernatural strength or no, Damon's still pretty damn dangerous right now. She sets down her tray, quickly wishing up a massive stack of napkins from the table to help address the spill.

"What's going on with you?" This she speaks in a hushed voice, leaning down as she tries to sop up some of the mess now covering the table's surface.

[eyething]

Damon lifts his head up from the glass before he looks over at her, shrugging lightly as if that answers anything. It doesn't but this is Damon after all. It's hard for him to admit to weakness even when he looks as weak as he literally is. He shifts there, watching as she takes the napkins to address the spill... of blood.

Well, she really doesn't flinch at any of this. Does she?

"No powers. I've had powers every day for over a hundred and fifty years... so apparently, I've forgotten how to do anything."

At all. Hilarious.

[therapize]

True story, she used to. Sometime between seeing her uncle's hand sliced open and thrusting her hand into Elijah's chest, however, Cami had gotten over it.

"Including hold a cup." Something so simple, yet it isn't exactly unprecedented. Accident victims had to relearn how to do things too, and what Damon's describing falls along those lines. She sops up the mess, careful to keep the spill from getting any worse--easier said than done, given just how hard blood is to clean up.

"Okay. We'll get this cleaned up, and I'll help you to your room." Maybe if they tell someone Damon had dropped an entire ketchup-covered meatloaf on himself, they'd buy that as the source of the stain. "There's no telling how long the no powers thing is going to last, but you starving in the meantime would be a really bad idea."

[eyething]

Damon nods with a grimace at the cup, because he's not exactly happy to admit it, but it doesn't stop it from being any less true. He swallows thickly. He doesn't like needing help. He's also aware that he does need it. There's no way he's making it back in one piece without some help of some kind, but he already feels like she has the power in their... whatever-the-hell this is (he can't call it friendship really but acquaintanceship doesn't fit either).

"Right. I could be powerless for a long time or for a day."

Either way, he hates it.

"Maybe I should drink out of a straw from here on out."

[therapize]

Look, at least he's getting it from someone who probably won't lord it over him (unless Damon acts like a total ass, in which case he deserves what he gets). She grimaces as the pile of paper grows, tall and soaked red, but eventually she manages to get the liquid up.

One wished up trashbag later, and she smirks towards Damon.

"Probably not a bad idea, actually. I don't know how well blood in a sippy cup would work." Okay , okay, she had to get one comment in. Just one, promise. Cami holds back the bulk of her amusement, limiting herself to a small grin before she looks over Damon.

"Do you need help walking?" Because Cami is willing to let him lean on her, but given that he's pretty soaked with blood? It's only going to make a bigger mess for them both if it comes to that.

text for elena :')

[eyething]

[after he sees this on the network, because oh, elena. he knows you.]

You don't even know what song that is, do you?

[interpersonal]

[ h u f f. ]

That's awfully assumptive of you, isn't it?

[ translation: no. ]

[eyething]

do they still consider it to be assumptive when i just know you that well? i think that's just knowing... you that well.

do you know the song? can you sing me the chorus from it?

[interpersonal]

Oh, I been flying... mama, there ain't no denyin'
I've been flying, ain't no denyin', no denyin'

All I see turns to brown, as the sun burns the ground
And my eyes fill with sand, as I scan this wasted land
Trying to find, trying to find where I've been.

[ this sure is the wonderland equivalent of a google search. just to be a little shit. ]

[eyething]

i said sing with the melody like you KNOW the song. not look up the lyrics to try to prove something, missy.

you need a great depth of education when it comes to music. you're sorely lacking in your knowledge.