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[blooded]

( ACTION | AUDIO | TEXT | VIDEO | OTHER )

Comments

dusts this off w/drama, how apt

[martyric]

( she debates whether or not to keep it to herself, suck it up and stomach the synthetic blood, but in the end the very human housemate kind of outweighs the weird stubborn insistence to act like Everything Is Fine Always. )

Are you at home?

[blooded]

( damon can practically feel drama dripping off this text. he's had to get very attuned to it, in the past year and a half in mystic falls, and he likes to think he has a pretty good sensor for what will and will not start his life on a roller coaster of bullshit. this text is practically screaming TERRIBLE THINGS ARE ABOUT TO HAPPEN!

which means, of course, that damon's going to answer it with a drink in hand. after a slight pause, long enough to pour himself two fingers of bourbon, damon texts back. )

Could be. Why?

[martyric]

I'm out. ( she hits send before she can back out, and although the meaning is probably fairly transparent she follows it up with context a moment later. ) Of donations, I mean. It's not code red or anything, but if you've got the synthetic stuff on hand it'd be helpful.

( helpful if people want to watch her puke twenty minutes later but y'know. details. )

text »

[metabolizes]

Don't hurt him or I will hurt you.

[ look, he's even being Serious with Capitalization and Punctuation. because this is dick he's talking about and wally takes his status as best friend very seriously. and maybe a little territorially. and overprotectively. maybe it's not entirely heroic of him to be threatening people, but. what can he say. he's not clark kent. ]

[blooded]

Hello, person I've never talked to before. Can I help you with something, or are you just going to throw around vague threats and disappear into the ether?

[metabolizes]

[ okay, guess dick never mentioned "wally west, my best friend." it's fine. ]

You can help me by not fucking around.
Dick deserves the best.
If you're not the best, we're going to have a problem.

SPEEDSTER DELIVERY™

[metabolizes]

[ so, in retrospect, there was definitely some overreacting going on. and a lot of jealousy. that's pretty much not an issue anymore, since things have been escalating with dick and -- well, really, there's never been a particularly good reason for wally to be jealous of anyone when it comes to dick because he knows where he stands in dick's life. it just happens. he can't help it. but he's definitely, mostly over it. enough to realize, yeah, he was an asshole. on purpose. dick move, wally. ]

[ so pi day seems like as good a day as any to attempt an apology, in the one way that's always spoken to him the most: food. at some point during the day, a blackberry pie will mysteriously show up outside damon's door. how does wally know where he lives? who knows. don't question it. there's a note attached to the pie box, too, in wally's messy scrawl:



maybe not the best apology, but he tried. ]

text.

[pleasant]

Are you doing anything later?

[blooded]

Well, hello to you too. I might be busy, might not. Why?

[pleasant]

I'm having a stressful week and want to see my favorite vampy boy. :)

text; 6/01

[bonnfire]

Hey, do you have a moment?
I finally got out of grading hell, and I wanted to talk to you about something in person.

[Even if she's been keeping her distance - it hurts, really, if she's honest - she figures she owes him a full conversation before heading back home.]

sorry for the delay, was in a bit of a damon-funk for a bit there. feel free to drop this!

[blooded]

Oh, that's not ominous at all.

Tell me when and where, BonBon.

no worries, things happen!

[bonnfire]

Does the Coat & Arms work? I'm free whenever, so I could meet you in about fifteen minutes.

delivery.

[pleasant]

( specifically post-birthday ( dick is a detective, he has his Ways of finding things out ), there appears a box on damon's doorstep. perhaps something like a suspicious box, all things considered, black and sleek and without a card until further prodding inside. directly under the top, there sits a crucifix -- a joke, probably a cruel one, until damon gets the card underneath signed, 'Button ups are so last century. - Dick G.'

predictably, behind some dark tissue paper, there's a black, long sleeved shirt, made to hug the body and fitted to suit damon flawlessly, situated on top of an easy to move in leather jacket. buried inside there's a long debated after key before dick just said fuck it -- one naturally to the front door of his apartment, hopefully sending the you're always welcome message instead of the lets go behind her back one. either way it reads off! happy birthday, damon. )

[abetting]

You're not still creeping around the door, right?

[blooded]

Not at the moment. Why?

i know i owe u heaps of tags but like yolo

[martyric]

Do you want to stay over for a few days?

[blooded]

I can be over in half an hour :)

( probably less, but he's trying to be Chill. )

text » un: GRAYSON

[pleasant]

I need help putting up my Christmas tree. You in?

[blooded]

Sure.

( that text may come a little more quickly than dick expected, but damon is just a little eager to spend any time at all with dick. he's not a fan of christmas at the best times, and right now all it is is a reminder of the gifts he wanted to give elena but never got to, but... it's dick. so. )

Will Lucky get along with my menagerie, or should I leave them?

( damon's not about to leave bunny and merlo behind if he doesn't have to, and if they come kitty and monster might as well come too. being an animal parent is the worst. )

Delivery

[mordacita]

[ Left by Damon's door on Christmas Eve is a large box with a very decent cognac inside and a vintage switchblade, the handle of which has been inlaid with mother of pearl. It's new, but the craft is centuries old, brought from Rafa's homeworld. Both are wrapped together with neat blue and silver paper, and a tag saying in script: 'From Rafa, for the holidays. For Damon.' ]

[blooded]

( rafa has entirely too many friends. damon's always preferred a small group of close friends to a large pool of fair weather ones, but he'd never really noticed how annoying a large group of acquaintances can be — elena and stefan's social circles were tiny, due to all the secrets they kept, so even if damon was never the fondest of witchy or werewolf or quarterback, at least they were the only ones he had to think about. rafa must have dozens of friends, all of whom he wants to throw at damon to see who sticks. it's exhausting.

thankfully, that's not what's happening right now. the photographer is a friend of rafa's (who isn't?), but he at the mystic in an official capacity, not to try to worm his way into damon's life, which is much appreciated. the photographer (alex? aaron? ansel?) does his thing while damon focuses on his own, and it's almost like being alone, save for the snap of a shutter. it's nice.

when he looks up, though, hansel is sitting in ric's seat, and that just won't do. )

Hey. That seat's taken, ( he calls across the bar, not moving from his throne, but the glare on his face is unmistakable. )

text » un: cforbes

[coy]

Hey, are you feeling okay?

[blooded]

Yes?

( what kind of question is that........ he has not encountered the illness yet, he has no idea vampires can get sick now. )