taxonomites | Entries tagged with { damon salvatore

The tablet switched on when Godric flipped Faith over in bed, his bared fangs a marked contrast to the playful, lusty grin that displayed them. He laughed as Faith swore at him, grinning and laughing herself, all teeth and fire. She sought to overpower him, and after some struggling that could better be called mutual groping, he allowed it. She straddled his hips victoriously, rocking them together, Godric's hands moving to hold her waist. The bunched duvet and piles of furs concealed a lot from view, but Faith's breasts were proudly bared for the camera.

Someone might want to tell them this isn't a private event anymore, not that they'll be particularly bothered.

[OOC: Uh, porn warning goes here, obviously. THERE IS PORN IN HERE, OK. :>]

saucyspinster.livejournal.com

Mattie awoke with the sun as she always does, washed and dressed, the empty sleeve of her left arm pinned up neatly, read her Bible and checked the contents of her larder. Now it's time for cooking breakfast (there's an art to doing it one-handed that she mastered years ago, and carries the burns to prove it), and only now as she sets the table does she realize that the display of the tablet is lit and has probably been broadcasting her movements around the kitchen. She sets a bowl of eggs and then a platter of ham and fried potatoes on the table, and calls out 'Breakfast!' to the air. Then turns to the tablet and considers it with pursed lips.

"I do not hold with eavesdroppers but since I know it is not always a person's choice in this city, when he is made privy to the business of another, so I will make an exception. There is a good breakfast here, for anyone who has need of it."

[Location open immediately to tiny!Don and later to any takers on the breakfast invitation, everyone else visual or voice as you like. For those unfamiliar with adult!Mattie, she's around 40, missing the lower part of her left arm, and sterner than stern.]

comprehender.livejournal.com

She hadn't minded the city's change, not even having to go from one end to the other between the zoo and Serenity, or the extra miles between all her other haunts. The space between did a lot to alleviate and distract from the claustrophobia of two years in captivity weighing on her shoulders, two years of people leaving, two years of Not Much Changing.

But of course, days of Not Much Changing can't last forever.

The tablet clicks on (convenient as ever) just as River wakes up in her bunk, looking a little younger than she did yesterday. It catches the slow realization that she isn't where she thought she'd be, the look of suspicious horror as she looks down at herself and examines her surroundings, and the subtle shift from surprise to fearful anger.

"Simon?"

River isn't moving to get out of that bed, not yet. Not until she knows what's going on, and if Simon doesn't answer her she might never get out, and the more everything stays quiet the louder that keen edge of fear becomes very apparent in her voice.

"You know, discussing the history of post-migration piracy with you didn't mean I'd think you putting me on a ship like this in my sleep would be funny." Pause. Wait for a response and get nothing. Try again. "Because it really isn't."

Okay, one more time, a little louder. Cursing should usually be done with a little more oomph than this, especially when attempting to taunt someone out of hiding, but a vaguely angry sounding, "Qīngwā cào de liúmáng," is all she can manage before the tablet clicks itself back off.

[ ooc: GLITCH TIMES! details and plottings can be had in the sott thread over yonder. and lo, let there be horrors.

translation | frog-humping jerk ]

allthefunever.livejournal.com

[ after a long night, damon didn't have the energy-- or honestly, the desire-- to kick stefan out. it's been a hard, keeping to their self-imposed separation. damon's used to being able to track stefan down whenever he feels like; having his brother firmly back at katherine's side has put awkwardness where previously there was none.

so his tablet turns on the a view of stefan and damon in bed together, reconnecting in a quintessentially salvatore way, remembering the patterns they'd once gone through as easily as breathing.

...one thing in the pattern damon forgot, however: stefan is a horrible bed hog. all the covers are wrapped around stefan and he's sprawled out, limbs all akimbo; damon is towards the edge, one leg almost entirely off the bed. the feed would close on them asleep like that, but damon shifts, and almost falls out of bed; flailing out with one arm, he catches himself and sits up, glaring over at stefan with a fondness he can't hide. ]

You always were one to steal the blankets. [ a smirk steals over his face, and he grabs a corner of the sheets currently wrapped around his brother and yanks, sending stefan tumbling onto the floor. over the sound of his indignant howl, damon leans over the edge of the bed and grins. ] Oops.

[ the feed closes on stefan's hand reaching up to grab damon's shoulder and then and pulling, and the thud of damon hitting the floor himself. ]

taintedrose

Being cooped up in the Sanctuary didn't do Rose any favours. If she was able to go outside the building and escape, then she wouldn't feel this trapped. It also meant that she could feed on the animals in order to satisfy her hunger. Rose still felt sick; she was pale, clammy and her vision was clouded. The pain was beyond unbearable and she knew that it would continue like this until she was put out of her misery.

Opening the door of her room, Rose ventured outside into the hallway and headed towards the kitchen. She knew that there was blood there from keeping an eye on the network and maybe it would be enough for now. To keep her from hurting people. When she got there, she realised that most of it was gone. Letting out a roar of anger, Rose slammed her fist on the counter, cracking it a little before she fell to the ground, willing herself not to think about what was happening to her.

Then she heard something. A voice. It was a little far away from her but it was distinctive.

Katherine.

That bitch.

Rose had wanted to confront her ever since she arrived in Taxon and now she had the opportunity to. Katherine would pay for what she did. She deserved it. Pushing herself up from the floor, Rose headed out of the kitchen, snarling as she did, determined to find the other vampire. Her fangs were bared and she was furious, prowling around the halls of the sanctuary, with one singular goal in mind.

Find Katherine and make her suffer.

Rose was adamant in her search for Katherine, not caring who came across her path. It kept her focused and made it easier for her not to slip into the inevitable madness. She was in so much pain and feral; just like she was back in Mystic Falls when she killed those three people at the high school. Sometimes, she lapsed in and out of hallucinations, seeing things that weren't there as well as hearing them. Rose pushes those thoughts away and continues to look, listening out for any signs of the other vampire.

Little did she know that it was Elena that she was stalking instead.

((ooc: And so begins the second and last part of Rose's glitch! Have fun!))

eventextras.livejournal.com

It's around five o'clock in the morning when the citizens of Taxon find themselves inexplicably transported into rooms within the Sanctuary. Doors are left open and beds unmade, food abandoned and lights left on, still shining brightly for those who were awake and are no longer present. The Extras don't seem to notice the captive population's sudden disappearance, continuing on with their business as usual.

For those relocated, though, it's an entirely different story.

They find themselves in rooms with white, alabaster walls that gives them an almost too-clean feeling, as if the entire place was sanitized prior to their arrival. The room assignments are seemingly random, people placed on floors with those they don't know and don't like, people they would rather not be within twenty feet of. It matters not, for what's done is done and cannot be undone. For those who happen to have pets, they'll find them waiting for their owners in the rooms as if nothing is out of the ordinary.

The only thing the captives have managed to bring with them is the clothes on their back and the tablets. On them, they find the following message:

SORRY FOR THE INCONVENIENCE PLEASE ENJOY YOUR STAY WHILE WE ADDRESS CERTAIN TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES

Unfortunately for those who try to find a means of escape, they'll discover there is none. Leaving the Sanctuary will prove to be as difficult as leaving Taxon itself. However, if one heads down the right corridor and the right floor, they'll find something else entirely lurking in their midst...

( ooc | sorry for the delay in posting! your mods were otherwise occupied with things of the irl variety this morning. THIS BE A PARTY POST, Y'ALL. room assignments are here, and refer back to the sott post proper for any additional information. please contact us with any questions/concerns you may have in regards to this plot. ♥ )

taintedrose

( cut for IC background to the glitch )

She was currently pacing around her place, unaware of her tablet recording her every moments. Rose looks tired, pale and unsteady with a light sheen of perspiration all over her body. If you looked close enough you would see the rather angry looking mark on her left shoulder when she turned; it resembles something like faint claw marks.

Glass of scotch in hand, she plops down on the couch before she realises that her tablet had been recording. She frowns a little.

"You've caught me on an off day, Taxon. Lucky me."

((ooc: There you have it! First part of Rose's glitch. My apologies for only posting it now, RL got the best of me! Her next part will come in a few days time in which she'll be far worse than she is now!))

hasaheart

Just thought I'd get this over and done with. I need a job, but I'm not sure how to go about it, or even what'd suit me.

Suggestions welcome.

verylittlesugar

Dear Fellow Residents of Taxon, Is this enforced muteness a widespread situation? I find it disconcerting, although I find the quiet is appealing. This city is too loud, and too busy. In its defense, however, find it admirably clean. It is more concerning to me that so many people appear to be illiterate. I know that education is not a privilege that everyone has had the pleasure of receiving, but I had been made to feel as though it would be the rule here rather than the exception. Is there not a school of some sort, where people can learn their letters properly? I must take this time to extend my gratitude, though I admit I am somewhat loathe to do it, to Mr. Damon Salvatore, for your very kind gifts. Even though I do not understand your purpose. I do especially think the hats are very grand. Are any of you enough acquainted with a Mr. Don Draper, that you can tell me that he is well? I would not necessarily care, if it were not for my sense of Christian duty that I be sure he has not drunk himself to death as yet. It would be nice if writing could be done by pen and paper as it is meant to be, and not by pushing little lettered buttons. Yours very sincerely, Mattie Ross.

whoneedsrules.livejournal.com

Katherine tosses aside the book she’d been reading. Now what? She’s out of things to amuse herself with and boredom is creeping in. At least talking is an option once more, even if English doesn't seem to be – not for everyone, that is. Katherine still keeps defaulting to her native Bulgarian, but stubbornly, she fights the impulse and forces herself to stick to French instead. But after several days it's starting to take a toll and Katherine feels slightly on edge. The recent inebriated foolery over the tablets certainly hasn't helped; first Damon, then Rose? Careless idiots. Katherine sincerely hopes Elena's recently arrived aunt Jenna isn't the type to share all when drunk. She seems like the type to tip the cup every now and then. At least Her Blondeness hasn’t been causing any inconveniences so far. Just because Katherine had promised Stefan to leave Caroline (as well as Jenna) alone doesn't mean the older vampire isn't keeping a surreptitious eye on things. That's just how she operates.

Briefly, Katherine contemplates contacting Stefan, but decides against it a moment later. A clingy, needy girlfriend she is not. She is Katherine Pierce, not Caroline Forbes! She’d risk the aggravating UN summit reenactment going on outside and find something to occupy herself with. If nothing else, she could go buy a new coffee table since the previous one… got broken. Rifling through her wardrobe for the perfect pair of heels, Katherine reaches for a shoebox stored on the topmost shelf, her efforts causing something small and light to fall down and narrowly miss hitting her.

Her tablet, sitting on the vanity half-obscured by perfume bottles and lotion tubes, chooses to turn itself on at this moment.

"Po dyavolite!" she curses in Bulgarian, surprise overriding her resolve not to speak the language. The small object clatters onto the floor, skittering a few feet away before coming to a stop. For a second, Katherine just stares at the semi-translucent stone sitting unobtrusively on the floor. The moonstone. She'd forgotten she'd stashed the thing up there.

Snapping out of her surprise, Katherine steps over and picks the offending object up, frowning as she turns the milky stone around in her fingers. Others brought buildings and items that actually mattered to them, she'd brought the cursed rock that her human blood had almost been spilled all over, once upon a time. Because she doesn't have anything else, and that’s a distinctly depressing thought. Still, she'll take continuous running and hiding over death. That’s why she doesn’t mind Taxon so much, because there is no need to keep looking over her shoulder here. But the stone is an abrupt reminder that anyone – including the one she ran from, Klaus – could show up here one fine day, that this peace wasn’t permanent. She suddenly feels like flushing the stone down the toilet, smirking as she pictures the look on Klaus’ face at that.

Her gaze shifts to the tablet and its blinking red light, curling her fingers around the stone and stepping over to the device.

"Assez spectacle gratuit pour aujourd'hui," she remarks pleasantly in French and switches the feed off. To herself, she mutters irately, "J'ai besoin d'apprendre à garder cette chose hors de la vue à tout moment."

( translation | damn it! / enough free show for today / i need to learn to keep that thing out of sight at all times. )

taintedrose

I realy hate these bludy hamsturs.

Then, some five minutes later:

Rly shudnt txt wen drubk.

Although you can't see it, Rose is steadily making her way through a bottle of scotch. Her cravings have gotten worse and she needs blood. Rose had satisfied herself with hunting animals in the forest but recently, it wasn't enough. She could feel herself being weaker without human blood and Rose was worried that she wouldn't be as strong as she was without it.

Hence the reason why she sent this next text:

( locked text to the Salvatores )

((ooc: Call this a precursor to Rose's glitch next month. I will be making a post in the ooc comm about it soon :3))

vampbogeyman.livejournal.com

Okay. So this didn’t make any sense.

Anita frowned to herself as she surveyed the room she’d found herself in. Definitely not where she’d gone to sleep, and if this was someone else’s idea of a good time, namely someone named Jean-Claude, she was definitely not amused. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen fit to interrupt her sleep with whatever nonsense, though in the past it had usually been dreams. He’d only ever moved her somewhere once before, and she had to give him a break on that. She kind of had been bleeding to death from the inside. … and he had saved her.

But this was totally different. This was a sterile-looking metal room that didn’t look like any place she’d ever seen in St. Louis before. That was saying something. She’d been just about everywhere off the beaten path in that city for some reason or another. Oh, the glamorous life of a vampire executioner.

“Alright, come on out. This isn’t funny,” she said aloud, feeling at her right hip for the Browning Hi-Power. Find yourself in an unfamiliar place? Get a weapon in hand. It really did wonders for one’s confidence. The gun was tucked into the waistband of her jeans at her left hip – had she slept with it there? That didn’t make sense, she usually put it in the holster hanging off her headboard – and reached across with her right hand to draw it. Better safe than sorry.

“… what the hell?” She had caught sight of the silver band that had been closed around her wrist, and, gingerly placing the Browning in her left hand after checking to make sure the safety was on, she lifted her wrist to examine the anomaly properly. Huh. Strange piece of jewelry – was it fused into her skin? She made a soft ‘tch’ sound as she turned her wrist over to get a better look. “Alright, now I’m really on edge. I want some answers. Who’s been screwing with me and how’d they keep me out while they did it?”

She snapped her head up to take another look around the room, searching for any other signs of life. There, in the center – a pedestal. Was that a cell phone perched on top of it? … someone had left their phone in here?

What the hell.

Current Mood: annoyed

aregulargirl.livejournal.com

This broadcast is not accidental, although it may seem like that's the case. Max is sitting at her kitchen counter, an empty glass cradled in her hands and a bottle containing a bright blue liquid sitting nearby. She's staring at the counter top, not really looking at anything in particular, and it's a significant amount of time, probably a few minutes, until she finally looks up and addresses the tablet.

"To anyone who knew him, Jim Kirk was sent home today."

She draws in a deep breath, then looks at the camera a moment longer, as if she wants to say something else, but at the last minute she changes her mind. She sets the glass in front of her, unscrews the to of the bottle, and pours herself a generous amount of the liquid. The glass is raised and a mouthful of the liquid is swallowed down, the potency of it making her cough and stare into the glass with some surprise.

"Good," she mutters under her breath, and then she remembers that the tablet is still recording her and reaches forward to turn it off.

allthefunever.livejournal.com

The feed opens on a pair of bare feet, where it apparently has been turned on via toe. The feet are unmistakably masculine, but after a moment another set-- these ones smaller-- join them.

Then a hand reaches down and grabs the tablet and all of a sudden, Taxon is treated to a closeup of Damon Salvatore's face, Max just behind him.

"Sono--" his face screws up in concentration, as the reason why he doesn't speak Italian except around Stefan is escaping him for the moment, and he abandons wondering about it in favor of finishing his sentence- "molto, molto ubriaco." He pauses, then says with even more emphasis, "Molto."

Behind him Max dissolves into a fit of giggles, her mussed hair falling in front of her face as her head tips forward a bit. It's clear that whatever they've been drinking, it's gotten to her, too, which shouldn't be a surprise, given that this is the same girl who was caught taking tequila shots on the job not too long ago.

"Altre lingue non sono giuste in questo momento," she says, looking back up with a mock-pout on her lips. (Never mind that she's speaking it perfectly.)

( ooc | following max's post, she and damon have gotten their asses dead drunk on romulan ale. damon said "i am very, very drunk" in italian; max said "other languages aren't fair right now." )

rereremembered.livejournal.com

It wasn't like there was a shortage of bars in Taxon, it was just that a vast majority of them lacked a certain something. Atmosphere. Style. A staff not consisting of Extras.

So Fitz took it upon himself to once again open a pub. He figured he had the qualifications (enjoying beer and music) and experience from working at such lofty venues as the Mother Black Cap, that one bar on Yquatine, and the New Found Out the first time he was in the city, so striking out on his own was fairly simple. In April Fitz had found a generic pub-like building in Shelley (across the road from a ziggurat and next to a futuristic boutique specializing in neon jumpsuits), and after a period of decorating, stocking supplies, and waiting out vampire shenanigans it was ready.

"If anyone's interested in drinking somewhere not run by creepy soulless puppets, I'm happy to inform you that as of this evening the Dodgy Jammer will be open for business." And he grinned, clearly pleased with the name. "Presently serving a limited selection of beers and whiskeys, and fare of...well, chips, but certainly looking to expand on that if we've any spare chefs about. I'd also like to host musicians but in the meantime, tonight and every Friday is going to be karaoke night. I can't move the bloody machine, so we may as well use it. Come on out, it should be good for a laugh."

And in order to ensure there were plenty of laughs, one of the early arrivals happened to be a certain alien disguised as none other than a certain Fonz. He approached the karaoke machine, gave it a punch which imbued it with certain inhibition-lowering properties, then sauntered off with a thumbs-up and an "Ehhhh!"

ooc: Karaoke shenanigans get! Treat this like a party post with threadjacking and mingling and all that good stuff. As mentioned, this event is dated to after the end of Dawn's vampire glitch.

verylittlesugar

It's been a couple days since the attack and her phone call to Don, and Mattie's feeling better physically, but still a little wrung out emotionally. Mostly that manifests in being very quiet and trying convince Don to let her cook meals for him, and a noticeable absence of tiny sternfaces. There's a lot on her mind, however, and one or two questions in particular keep coming up.

So she turns to her tablet, and the Taxon community, for answers. She's curled up against the headboard of Don's bed, wrapped in her father's coat over her nightgown, with a small white gauze bandage on her neck.

"What happens when a vampire bites you? And how are you to tell if you are seeing one?"

[Location for Don, visual or voice as you like for everyone else. Let's say this is backdated to around May 9 so Mattie hasn't been languishing all this time.

ETA: Don may be hovering around and keeping an eye on conversations, expect possible threadjacking. ;)]

secretshame

The first thing Jenna noticed was that she must have dozed off upstairs. She rubbed her tired eyes before opening them. The sight of a very unfamiliar, and definitely not something she'd ever thought possible, room made her blink and inhale sharply.

"Okay, I know I wasn't drunk or stoned earlier," she muttered to herself, running a hand through her hair. For one thing, she didn't have her munchie snack of choice, nachos. For another, responsibility called and she'd be damned if it was her fault Jeremy got back on that path when he'd just gotten off it. Sure, she'd missed it at times, especially at first, but the reality was that she needed to set a decent example for the kids. She wasn't Miranda by any stretch of the imagination, but she still had to do everything possible to help Jeremy and Elena.

"John?" she called, folding her arms over her chest and staring upwards. "If you spiked my drink tonight, I will kill you."

Not literally, of course, no matter how much she wanted him out of her life. Hitting him with another newspaper, however, was fair game.

"Ric? Elena? Jeremy? Okay, guys, this isn't funny anymore. It's not Halloween, you know."

Huffing out a breath of annoyance, she let her arms fall back to her sides and stepped off the platform. What was this place anyway? Maybe it was some strange stoner dream. God knew she'd had her fair share of those.

Jenna pinched herself to be sure. "Ow! So much for the 'it's a dream' theory."

That just begged the question of what this was. There wasn't a door that she could see, but that didn't mean one didn't exist. Still, she wasn't really up for waiting around or looking for a door herself. Best case scenario: someone would find her. To put it simply, Jenna was in a bind and she knew it.

"All right, first person to tell me what's going on gets me off their back for a week."

Maybe she'd agree to get drunk with them in celebration. No, wait, Uncle John was at home. Being drunk was how she dealt with him. He was too much of a pain to deal with sober. But aside from that: responsibility. Jenna sighed wearily and began her own quest to figure out what was going on. First thing: get out of this room.

verylittlesugar

Mattie's outside today, enjoying the sun and fresh air despite the chill, contemplating whether she might take advantage of this month's free things and start some kind of little garden.

She's also contemplating something that she's been wondering about for days, something she really needs an opinion about.

"Are any of you acquainted with a man named Damon Salvatore? Can you tell me why he has such intent interest in girls' dresses? And can a garden be put anywhere?"

virtued.livejournal.com

It was becoming increasingly difficult to avoid Damon. How he managed to dodge his brother successfully for even a week is beyond him, but he's tired of ducking out of the house whenever he sees that dot on the map approach, tired of feeling like an intruder in his own home. Is that what he's become, someone who's so out of the loop he's supposed to be in that he's overstepping new boundaries that have been put into place to compensate for his actions? What started out as a simple mind game has quickly progressed into something much more that's spinning rapidly out of control.

How ironic is it that the one place he can find solace is the one place he really doesn't want to be? Seated on the couch in Katherine's hotel room, Stefan drops his face into his hands. He's in too deep and he knows it. Problem is, he's at a loss for how to dig himself out without everything coming undone, but doesn't know how much longer he can keep this up.

Lifting his head up, he spots the tablet he discarded on the coffee table before him recording, the red blight blinking at him almost mockingly. He scoffs at it irritably, shaking his head. "Of course," he says. "You always seem to come on during moments like these, as if you have some sort of built in sensor that alerts you to the perfect moment to invade someone's privacy."

Uncharacteristically, Stefan swats at the tablet, sending it flying across the room. When it lands and the video refocuses, it catches the eternal teenager slumping back against the couch with his arms crossed over his chest and a scowl set into his features.

verylittlesugar

Mattie is sitting at a table, holding her tablet propped in front of her as she nearly always does (it seems rude to communicate with people and not give them her full attention, and also she still has some concern that the tablet might begin doing undesirable things if she isn't watching it while it's on). She appears to have been using the hatches, as the high-necked blouse she's wearing is not the one she arrived in, and her father's clothes are nowhere in sight.

"I am given to understand that the line of credit we are extended runs out at the end of each month. While I do not see why they set it so high, it does seem an awful waste not to use it all. I have everything I need, is there anyone out there who does not?"