002 ♔ video (post-event)

[untilmydarknessgoes]

Well. That was fucking stupid.

[Damon gives a small raise of his glass before knocking it back.]

Comments

[youwillgotohell]

We'll have to do something about that ego of yours.

[untilmydarknessgoes]

Admit it. You find it endearing.

[youwillgotohell]

Entertaining, at least until your right runs counter to mine.

[untilmydarknessgoes]

Oh, I'm sure you could think of a few ways to convince me to change my mind.

[youwillgotohell]

One or two.

[untilmydarknessgoes]

And that's exactly why you're nowhere near being a disappointment to me.

[youwillgotohell]

Oh, that is a comfort. I'll sleep soundly tonight.

[untilmydarknessgoes]

Well, if there's a night where you don't, let me know and we'll see what I can do about that.

[youwillgotohell]

Mm. You are a giver.

[untilmydarknessgoes]

I did warn you as much.

[youwillgotohell]

Then you should feel free to bring me a drink.

[She is not entirely certain she wants him to come over. But she's not entirely certain she wants to be alone, either. She is definitely certain that she's angry and hurt, and a distraction from that sure sounds great.]

[untilmydarknessgoes]

Far be it from me to deny a beautiful woman what she wants.

Where's your cabin?

fuck it!!!

[youwillgotohell]

Level eight, room fifteen.

[untilmydarknessgoes]

[Knock, knock boo.]

[youwillgotohell]

It's open. [Inside, there's a small fire going, with a small dog sleeping in front of it. Tris looks up when the door opens, but she yawns instead of immediately investigating.

Morgana is at the table, not quite in profile. She looks up when he enters and smiles.]

What did you bring?

[untilmydarknessgoes]

[Damon sets down two glasses on the table.]

Bourbon.

[His drink of choice.]

[He pours her glass first because Damon is capable of some manners sometimes.]

You're seriously comfortable in this place?

[Sometimes.]

[He moves it in front of her.]

[youwillgotohell]

Not especially. [She shrugs one shoulder carelessly, as if it isn't a huge step up from what it was. The dust and cobwebs are gone, and haven't come back. There's light from the floating, futuristic chandelier above when she wants it - right now, it floats dark, too much a reminder of the breach.]

It used to be drafty, in Ismere. And Ismere was very, very cold.

[She takes the glass and doesn't bother to toast him, because sometimes she doesn't care about manners. She can't down it - Morgana has never been much of a drinker - but the occasional practice the Barge has given her sees her take a very big drink before setting the glass back down.]

You have good taste. [She hates it, actually, but burning all the way down can be a strange comfort in and of itself.]

[untilmydarknessgoes]

I'd like to think so.

[He pours himself a glass and sets the bottle down on the table, trading it for his drink.]

Ismere. That where you're from?

[Damon drinks from his glass and relishes in the burn. It's favorable to anything else right now.]

[youwillgotohell]

Ismere is very, very north of where I'm from. [She turns her glass on the table, watching the fire play off the color of the liquor from the corner of her eye.]

I grew up in Camelot. [She never knows if they'll recognize the name or not, now.]

[untilmydarknessgoes]

[Damon pauses in taking a drink from his glass, frowns, and lowers it.]

Run that by me again.

[youwillgotohell]

[She takes her own sip, eyebrows arching at him over the rim of her glass. She doesn't mind making him wait.]

I grew up in Camelot. [Dryly:] You've heard of it.

[untilmydarknessgoes]

[Of course he's heard of it. He just thought maybe her parents were Renfair nerds or it was just coincidence.]

So you're a witch, [he says with an air of suspicion. Witches and vampires rarely get along.]

[Or more accurately, Damon has a tendency to run his mouth too much with most witches and it usually bites him in the ass. Who would have thought?]

[Still, he's not taking the offensive with her. He's just a little more cautious is all.]

[youwillgotohell]

[That sounds more like a Damon problem and less like a witch/vampire problem. It's the suspicion that sharpens her eyes and tongue.]

Yes. [Her chin ticks up just slightly.]

Is that going to be a problem? [There's an almost incredulous tone lurking beneath the defensiveness. She expected someone supernatural to be at ease around someone similar.]

[untilmydarknessgoes]

Last I checked, most witches were of the opinion vampires are oh, you know... [He draws a deep breath.] Slights against nature, abominations, scum of the earth, insults to anything that's good, a mistake, I think you get the point.

And yet here you are, having a drink with one.

[He makes a small gesture with his glass.]

Not that I'm complaining. It's a nice change of pace from the usual trying to set my brain on fire thing. It's just odd.

[youwillgotohell]

[Mental note to self: figure out how to set a brain on fire.]

Very odd. That's what most said about my kind. [She shrugs, and leans toward him.]

As one monster to another, there are better options for setting fires.

[And she finishes off her glass, sliding it toward him for a second pour.]