[CLOSED] i am the mess you chose, the closet you cannot close.

[bitchlamped]

Who: Damon Salvatore & Katherine Pierce
What: A chance encounter... or is it?
When: Day 71
Where: Sky's Prize
Rating: PG-13 for language, threats or insults, more than likely. Maybe a fight. Who knows with these two? Nothing's planned!

The music and lights served as a non-stop pulse, flooding his ears in ways that heartbeats used to. Terror. Excitement. Anxiety. His gaze flicked down the length of the bar, from where he sat at the far end, back as close to a wall as he could manage. After he'd scoped out the place, Damon had decided that it was the best seat in the house and as such, he claimed it for his own. From there he could see almost every inch of the establishment, regardless of his divided attention. He raised a hand to flag down the bartender (leave the bottle) and slammed the first glass with minimal effort.

He was pouring himself another before the former finished burning a trail down the back of his throat. Never had he ever considered being the cautious one and yet, here he was, hungry and itching for a kill. Imagine his continued surprise and rising rage at the repetitive failings of each attempt to compel a woman, a man, anyone to slip back to his room with him. Sure, he could go the natural route. It'd work like a charm. Who could possibly resist him? But that wasn't the point! The point was: in the morning whoever it was would be screaming and dizzy and terrified out of their wits, ready to run for the hills screaming monster.

Unless there were people here who know about vampires, who were from towns not so unlike Mystic Falls. The way he figured, he had a one in a thousand chance of trying to find someone who fit the profile. His patience was withering and while he knew there was another option, he was avoiding it like the plague. Like hell he was going to ask her for a favor. Being indebted to Katherine Pierce always ended horribly. Damon sneered and accompanied it with a uck sound, almost completely quelled by the music. He could practically see her superior little smile now, how she liked to twirl a piece of hair while she leaned in to remind him: 'You owe me.'

Another shot down and he shook his head, nipping that one in the bud.

He might not have liked it in Asgard but that didn't translate into wanting to die at the hands of one of her wicked schemes to get out. No, he had to find his meal card another way. And this, being here, this was the way to do it. He'd gotten rid of bodies before. If it came to that, he wouldn't blink. His needs came before the many. Careful calculation reminded him that it was unwise but since he very well couldn't eavesdrop on whatever conversation he wanted, he wasn't seeing that he had much of a choice in the matter.

Comments

[1864]

"Damon Salvatore."

There was something giddy in her voice as she approached him, stopping just before him and leaning against the bar beside him. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you've been avoiding me."

Circumstances were working against Damon. They'd been sorted under the same god, which meant they were living in the same house. Any attempts at 'avoiding' Katherine were futile, and without his superhuman powers to warn him of her arrival, it had been no trouble at all to keep an eye on him from afar. Watching and waiting until it was time to make the next move -- it was something that Katherine would always be good at.

"You've taken to Asgard well, haven't you?" She took a seat next to him. It was obvious that she wasn't going to taunt and leave. If she was staying, there was most likely something she wanted.

"Aren't you going to buy me a drink?"

[bitchlamped]

"Katherine," he greeted without giving her the satisfaction of turning to face her. There was no need. She stalked forward and owned the spot beside him without bothering to snag a stool, just as he suspected she would. So much for side-stepping the bitch. "What was your first clue? Was it the total lack of a celebratory dinner invitation or the part where I haven't tried to call you once?"

With one arm folded on the bar, he twisted in his seat and ran his eyes over her. She was in one piece, as thought he expected anything less. She always found a way to ensure her own safety and well-being. The Norse gods here made no indication that any of them were in danger as long as they remained in line, like faithful followers, which neither one of them was capable of for very long. Damon didn't answer her question about Asgard because he felt he didn't have to. He didn't owe her anything.

"I'll do one better." One little shove and the bottle was sliding in front of her, while he picked up his own glass to swirl the remainder of his beverage. It was up to her to procure her own cup or take the role of a sloppy party animal in such a fine establishment. "Bottoms up."

[1864]

With a roll of her eyes, Katherine wrapped her delicate fingers around the bottle. Sloppy party animal it was, and she took a hardy gulp from the bottle before she set it down with a slam. "Your lack of manners is always astounding," she teased, an enticing smile on her lips. He wouldn't fall for her makeshift charms, but that didn't make him any less easy to rile up, nor did it take away her desire to see just how far she could push him.

"I'm lucky this is such a small city then."

Everything about her seemed just as it had been in Mystic Falls, but with the added bonus of being out from under Klaus' fingertips finally. Her still-healing stab wound from the days before was hidden carefully beneath her top, wrapped and out of sight. Damon didn't need to know that 'ensuring safety' here wasn't as easy as she wanted him to believe. If he made a tactical error, it would be to her benefit.

[bitchlamped]

As if she had to wonder why. Her charms were as fraudulent as his own. To each other, they would probably never cease to be transparent. There were times when Damon could be fooled but he liked to think he was beyond that now, that he had changed - evolved from fantastical beliefs that she would ever choose him over his brother. But that wasn't right either. He knew he was making progress back home, with her in captivity. There was no way to tell if that meant anything here. She hadn't bolted because she was free to do as she pleased. She was being friendly because he was easy company, what else would it be?

"Admit it, you think it's refreshing compared to all these politics." And that was what it came down to for him. These gods were like the Originals to him, governing powers that kept them square under their thumbs. A temporary adjustment. There was no convincing him otherwise. Despite what she told him on the network, about his head exploding if he acted rashly, he wasn't heeding her advice. Self-serving as he so often was, he had nothing to lose if he died. Nobody else was at stake. Stefan and Elena weren't here and therefore, there wasn't any ammo to be used against him.

He chose then to slam his drink, keeping his mouth full so he wouldn't have to be the one to fill the spaces with more words. An opportune moment for her to stay ahead of him, before he demanded to know what she was doing here.

[1864]

With a flighty laugh, Katherine looks him over. He's in the exact same situation that she is -- they're practically human again. As a smirk settled on her face, she ignored his implications and asked, "Are you adjusting then? Politics aside, didn't part of you long to be human again?"

It was the weakest part of Damon, she'd always found. His regret. "It's a pity. You just missed Elena and her little blonde Barbie." She'd withheld telling him before now that Elena had been here, if only to see his face at the news. The reaction wouldn't be bold, barely noticeable, but she kept her eyes locked on his. "She might have preferred a more human you."

Each word was carefully chosen, designed to attack, dig into him if she could. Yet it wasn't the insults that mattered. She'd learned from her time here that it was possible for the gods guests to be pulled from not only different worlds but different times as well.

In the grand scheme of things, when Damon was from might not make a difference, but if there was the chance that it could...? She might as well know.

[bitchlamped]

What he longed for, aspired to be, it wasn't and hadn't been any of her business for a great many years. Once his every whim had been open to her and now the most he revealed to her was a blank stare. She knew how he felt about being a vampire, sure, he had adapted and learned all of the fun it held for him, how he could use people to be his puppets but none of them ever forgot that it was Stefan that forced him into this life.

Her confession was like a top spinning and spinning and clattering to the ground, crushing all hope. Elena had been here with Caroline. Where were they now? Had they gone home? It was an influx of information he didn't immediately expect from her and he didn't have the time to thumb through all of the questions on index cards before she was throwing him through another loop covered in scalding flames and jagged spikes.

She might have preferred a more human you.

If Katherine wasn't careful, she was going to get another stab wound before the night was through. His eyes gave away more than he wanted them to, more than he would ever permit in her presence if he had the time to prepare for any barb she threw his way like a grenade. He hadn't and she saw and he drew his gaze away too late, so that his only choice was to pry the bottle from her hand and to pour himself more. Nothing he could do would change that she'd seen a vulnerability and he'd make her pay for it later. Out of the public eye. "You must have been relieved to wake up and find the only people who could ruin your cover here were missing." A drink. "And terrified to see the reality of how easily it'd be to send you right back into the heat of it all." He liked her better caged. She knew her place.

[1864]

Her only acknowledgement of the way his eyes betrayed him was the smug smirk tight on her lips. His hollow bites back did little to rustle her. She still had the upperhand here. For each piece of information she let slip forth, she had a motive behind it and more to hide. She let him jerk the bottle from her hands, fingernails tapping against the bar top.

"I admit I'm surprised that they didn't do more harm," she responded, carefully dancing around when they'd been there, for how long, and what had happened. It wouldn't be difficult information to uncover if he asked the right people, surely, but it was something he was going to have to work for. "But everyone is busy here. What do they have to worry about little ole me?"

She gave him a devious wink before leaning over the counter and waving to the bartender, brown curls of hair brushing over her shoulders. They'd need another bottle at this rate, if only because she had to make sure she had Damon unwittingly spilling out the exact information she wanted. He wasn't someone she could simply charm it out of -- not anymore. That Damon, the borderline boring Damon, was a ship that had long since sailed.