Anise Tatlin (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
gald_digger) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
damned_institute2011-08-16 01:37 am
gald_digger) wrote in damned_institute2011-08-16 01:37 am
Entry tags:
- aidou,
- albedo,
- america,
- anise,
- badd,
- badou,
- battler,
- bella,
- brainiac 5,
- byrne,
- carter,
- castiel,
- chise,
- claire bennet,
- claire stanfield,
- claude,
- daemon,
- damon,
- doctor facilier,
- edgar,
- edward cullen,
- england,
- erika,
- firo,
- gren,
- guy,
- guybrush,
- hijikata,
- ippo,
- izaya,
- japan,
- jessica drew,
- klavier,
- kratos,
- l,
- leanne,
- lightning,
- lily,
- lunge,
- maya,
- meekins,
- mikado,
- niikura,
- peter parker,
- peter petrelli,
- renamon,
- riku,
- rita,
- ritsuka,
- rose (tvd),
- sam winchester,
- sechs,
- snow,
- sora,
- tear,
- terra branford,
- the doctor,
- tolten,
- trickster,
- tsubaki,
- two-face,
- utena,
- venom,
- yomi,
- zack,
- zero
Day 58: Cafeteria
Anise woke up feeling lucky to be alive. She still felt a bit waterlogged, even though her skin, hair, and clothes were completely dry. During last night's adventures, she'd swallowed a lot of water, and it still felt heavy and disgusting in her stomach. Her arms and legs were tired from treading water. Lying still in her bed, she still kind of felt like she was floating and bobbing in the water.
But she was alive.
Knowing how close she came to death last night, and remembering the lengths her friends had gone to in order to save her, there was no way Anise could let a little discomfort get her down. She had to be at her best today so she wouldn't seem ungrateful to Guy and Claude. On that note, she had to remember to thank them properly, now that she was better able to express herself.
While getting ready, Anise was surprised to actually run into Claude that morning. He came to her room asking for the notebook he stored there (or maybe it was an excuse to see her cute face again), so Anise happily located it and handed it over. She was pretty tired, but the big smile she gave him was genuine. Who wouldn't be happy to see her savior so soon after a dramatic rescue?
After he left, Anise finished re-tying her pigtails into a low position so the military beret would fit on her head, and then she was ready! Even though her stomach wasn't feeling that great, she figured sitting down to a decent meal would help normalize it. And luckily for her, she was among the few who had the privilege of eating such a meal. Anise filled a plate with french toast topped with syrup and fruit, accompanied by small portions of each of the available side dishes.
It looked like she was early, which meant there weren't a lot of people around. That was okay, though. Anise could get a good head start on her meal before any company came around. She sat down at a table by herself and started on her sausage first.
[for Tolten!]
But she was alive.
Knowing how close she came to death last night, and remembering the lengths her friends had gone to in order to save her, there was no way Anise could let a little discomfort get her down. She had to be at her best today so she wouldn't seem ungrateful to Guy and Claude. On that note, she had to remember to thank them properly, now that she was better able to express herself.
While getting ready, Anise was surprised to actually run into Claude that morning. He came to her room asking for the notebook he stored there (or maybe it was an excuse to see her cute face again), so Anise happily located it and handed it over. She was pretty tired, but the big smile she gave him was genuine. Who wouldn't be happy to see her savior so soon after a dramatic rescue?
After he left, Anise finished re-tying her pigtails into a low position so the military beret would fit on her head, and then she was ready! Even though her stomach wasn't feeling that great, she figured sitting down to a decent meal would help normalize it. And luckily for her, she was among the few who had the privilege of eating such a meal. Anise filled a plate with french toast topped with syrup and fruit, accompanied by small portions of each of the available side dishes.
It looked like she was early, which meant there weren't a lot of people around. That was okay, though. Anise could get a good head start on her meal before any company came around. She sat down at a table by herself and started on her sausage first.
[for Tolten!]
no subject
Breakfast. The concept sounded so normal that Rose just wanted to laugh. Her hands were still shaking slightly from the adrenaline and the fear, although in the light now, that had faded away, seemed foolish. There'd been no reason for that kind of panic, no logical explanation for any of it. Then again, there was the fact that Zack had somehow turned into a dog for most of the night. Who needed logic?
She hoped Zack was alright this morning. And human. She'd have to look for him later. At the moment, though... At the moment she just wanted to find somewhere quiet to regain her composure. And to stop shaking. And with the sudden appearance of a guard in the doorway, hiding in her bed all morning was suddenly crossed off her list of options.
She followed the guard numbly into the cafeteria, but steered in the opposite direction of the food line, heading to the far corner of the room. Finding an empty table, she sank down in one of the chairs and buried her head in her hands, feeling weary and miserable. And hungry, but certainly not for anything being dished out on the plates of the other prisoners here. Dammit. She was going to have to do something about that soon...
[For Damon and Alaric.]
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Thank you, Rick. What would I have done without you.
Well. Feed off of someone else, obviously.
Speaking of feeding. There was one person here who'd be running into trouble with that soon, and while Damon was in no way planning to share his source (these were limited quantities they were talking about here), it was still in his interest to know what she planned on sinking her teeth into and when. This wasn't his territory per se, but it was still a vampire in close proximity with people he knew. That made it his business.
Besides. Their last conversation had been inconveniently interrupted and unlike most people, Damon had zero problems picking up the threads of an abandoned topic with little to no segue. Especially not when it concerned Elena.
He had half an eye out for Claire, too, as he made his way through the cafeteria. She'd wanted to talk (or whatever passed as a talk for her) and the woman wasn't the poster girl for patience. Really, if she hadn't caught his attention that day in town with her little slip, she wouldn't even be here right now.
—Hm, oh. There she was. Rose, not Claire. He'd almost missed her, what with only the spiky back of her hair being visible. Someone hadn't had coffee with their blood this morning.
Instead of the seat across, Damon slid into the one next to her. "And how did you sleep?" he said in the pleasant tone of someone who knew perfectly well what the answer would be.
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"Go away, Damon."
She didn't even have the energy for a witty retort this morning. He'd have to take a rain check. Her voice was hoarse and wavered the slightest bit. Her fingers remained threaded in her hair to hide the slight tremble that persistently remained, no matter how many deep breaths she took. Her eyes were closed, her elbows propped on the table, face directed at the tabletop and she absently wondered if she ignored him long enough if he'd leave her alone.
Of course not. This was Damon, after all. Still, she couldn't bring herself to uncurl from her position. Not yet. Not even for him. He'd have to be patient for once, because she had the feeling if she took one look at him, she was going to have another breakdown, right here in the middle of the cafeteria. And she was dealing with enough mortification at the moment, thanks.
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"Don't be rude, now," he said conversationally.
He could've left it. Whatever was making Rose quietly flip out wasn't his problem. But he was curious and one of the nice things about not caring for much was that he could indulge his curiosities with little to no worry about being forced to take on someone else's damage.
Besides, not a hell of a lot shook up a vampire. It was worth looking into.
Since she clearly wasn't up for doing anything, including looking anywhere other than the surface of the table, Damon reached for her cup of water. Or he assumed it was hers. Either way, it was there, so he took it.
"So what happened? Or do I get to play twenty questions, Freud edition? Don't tell me you got into that drug trial infomercial bullshit," he added, running a finger around the rim of the cup. "Even you're not that stupid."
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Had it really been that stupid of an idea? Granted, it hadn't been the most successful of nights - okay, that might be an understatement, considering. Then again, at least she hadn't turned into a dog. Or died. That was always a plus these days. Besides, she'd learned a few interesting things about this place and the monsters that roamed at night. And also her own new limitations.
She picked up her head finally and shot him a look that was lost somewhere between a grimace and a wry grin that held very little humor. "They have drugs here that affect vampires. Who knew?"
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Damon spread a hand: the universal gesture of no comment required. "I did tell you being dead doesn't count for much around here."
Hey, he had, too. One of the first things he'd said to her, actually. Sucked to be her. For him, however, it meant he didn't have to go far at all to scout out what the so-called drug trials were about. Oh, he'd gotten the same spiel over the intercom as everyone and their puppy, but that wasn't so much information as it was...
He wasn't sure what to call it. Besides useless and annoying.
"What did you take, anyway?" He eyed her up and down. She looked fine, if you asked him. Not that...it mattered either way to him. "At least tell me you got something out of it besides a hangover."
This was less about him caring if she did, in fact, get anything out of it and more about him wanting to know if there was even the slightest benefit. Obviously not so he could consider doing it himself, though. He was thinking along the lines of possibly getting a...stand-in. Who may or may not be willing. Which would take time and effort, meaning that he would only bother if the payoff was worth it.
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At least being pissed at him was abating the urge to burst into hysterical tears. Damon was good for something at least.
"It could be worse, however," she added, stealing her glass of water back and taking a sip. It was too bad they didn't allow alcohol here. She could use something stronger at the moment. "My companion turned into a dog. A very large, rotting dog. Have I mentioned I hate dogs, Damon? I think I'm totally justified in this, considering my experiences with them. I don't really appreciate this place's sense of humor. A vampire afraid of the dark, stuck with a monster possibly distantly related to the one that nearly killed her less than a week ago. Oh, and there were bats. Let's not forget the bloody bats."
She was babbling. She didn't care. Maybe those hysterics weren't that far off after all...
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That was one irritation checked off his growing list.
Oh, and it had been bandaged. Like his neck. He'd only seen what it had looked like after hooking a finger on the gauze and sneaking a peek. Speaking of his neck, there wasn't even a scratch left behind at this point. Experimentally he'd pulled at the skin there without pain or blood, which was a lot more than he could say for it two days ago. Might as well be like it'd never happened in the first place.
Along with those encouraging discoveries was another one: he was pretty damn hungry. Ever since the bad luck thing, Alaric had been eying his food without trust. It could have been worse, sure, but... well, if he was going to be giving blood, he'd need the right nutrients. Hopefully the gruel provided that. (He could not believe he was doing this.) And orange juice. They usually gave that out after donations, right? (Seriously.)
Easier said than done. Going through the motions for gruel was simple enough, but apparently asking for something that wasn't water would interrupt the flow of rewarding the seniors. Not literal seniors, obviously.
"Just water."
Alaric lifted an eyebrow. "Just this once? Like... even apple juice, I guess. I'm not picky." He wasn't even complaining about being stuck in the ROTC uniform again. Throw him a bone here.
"Water."
"Look, I'm just having a-a low blood sugar problem. I just need it this once." He held out a hand, which was shaking naturally. Good on him. Not eating enough for a couple of days was doing him favors. At least at this particular point in time. He was just really sick of water. He'd even tolerate tea at this point.
The soldier's eyes jumped down to the bandage on his arm, then back up. There was a creepy feeling at the back of Rick's neck, which either came from the dread he was going to have to think of a stupid lie about why his blood sugar was low or from the paranoia the guy might already know exactly why. If the latter was the case, he didn't say anything about it. Maybe because Alaric didn't make a big deal of it helped the soldier to eventually pass over a glass of orange juice, shooing him out of the way.
Small victories.
As for company... well, he was more than willing to sit in a corner and put the metaphorical hood over his head, that wasn't probably the best option. He'd spotted a somewhat familiar face. Rose, right? It was familiar in that he'd only seen it a couple of times, but not in Landel's. It was probably past the time to re-introduce himself, even if the company she was keeping would have best been avoided, lest he be forced to endure round two of the walk of shame.
It was really, really weird to remember Damon probably didn't recognize her. They must have jumped over that ice-breaking pretty fast. If he was interrupting something, he could always... leave. He thought of that after sitting down, of course. Awkward or not, he was hungry.
"Hey, uh, Rose." He avoided the awkward little hand wave, but it also wasn't his best greeting. Even he could notice something was screwed up here. "You okay? You look beat." That was a good way to skip all of the weird introductions. Draining half of his cup of orange juice was a good follow-up.
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Damon held up his hands in a gesture of surrender, still holding the flimsy plastic cup until she snatched it away. A few drops landed on his wrist. There was maybe a slight lack of sincerity in his expression. Only slight. "Sorry I asked."
Look, he'd spent a night tripping out on other people's emotions not too long ago, so he could sympathize. Inasmuch as he sympathized with anything. But when you were a vampire, having feelings you weren't meant to have and didn't want to have could be something of a real bitch.
He should know.
He turned into a dog was something else to look into, though. He opened his mouth to ask, but stopped short when Rick fell into his line of vision.
Oh, look who was here. Look who also thought he could get away with ignoring Damon Salvatore. Please. That was just asking for Damon to not leave him alone. The man really should've known better. Was he still bent about getting fed on last night? Come on, there hadn't even been any teeth involved. Perfectly civil.
Damon leaned forward, peering around Rose to catch Alaric's eye. "Rick," he greeted pleasantly. "Good to see you. How's the blood sugar doing?"
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She turned her attention to Alaric then, her expression patiently exasperated as her gaze searched his face. At least he had some orange juice. How had he managed that? She'd not even been given a choice, not that it mattered much. "I'd apologize for his appalling manners, but you've known him longer than I have, so you'd be aware of that. I offer my sympathies instead. Thank you for asking, though. Last night was rather... rough."
She shot a scowl at Damon to stave off any more retorted about her intelligence. So it hadn't been the smartest risk to take, but if he called her stupid again, she was upending her glass of water over his head.
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Screw draining just half the glass. He could down all of it while he tried to think of something not stupid to say. There wasn't obviously enough time for that, but he dragged it out while he could. He was going to regret that when he was forced back to water. Dammit.
Look, he was just going to keep ignoring Damon and ignoring the whole subject, lest he be compared to sorority girls or something.
"I'm used to it." He shrugged, dropping the cup back to the table. If only he could put in as much vigor into eating the porridge wannabe as he could with juice. Juice had substance. It wasn't coffee and it was far, far from alcohol, but it was... relatively normal. He didn't make a habit of eating pink oatmeal. "And it's great. Really. Thanks for asking."
... so he wasn't good at the whole ignoring thing. Or, rather, he knew exactly what would happen if he tried.
Anyway. "What happened last night?" Not giant animals, he hoped. Not that he could openly spy any bite marks.
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His eyes slid to Rose and gave the smallest of dismissive shrugs. "I was perfectly polite about it," he said, as if that was more than the justification he needed. Which it kind of was. He had asked. Did you remember the last time he asked before he snacked on anyone?
Exactly. He still found it mildly insulting that he'd had to do so in the first place.
He watched Alaric down the orange juice like it was a shot of cheap tequila. The faintly amused expression turned innocent as Rose full-on glowered at him. Oh, come on. Like he'd point out the same lapse in common sense twice. That was just. Redundant.
"You'll enjoy this," he said dryly, gesturing at Rose. "Go ahead. Tell him about your night time buddy with the reticent canine genes."
She'd said dog, not wolf, which was a key difference, but that didn't make it any less...worth a closer a look. Unless the drugs had seriously made her trip out and hallucinate everything, which was possible. Vampires weren't immune per se; they had a bloodstream like everyone else. Hence the kryptonite-esque wood and vervain. Most stuff just didn't have the time to do anything before the healing kicked in.
But anyhow. Possible, but unlikely.
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"I don't think he has canine genes. At least, probably not normally. I haven't gotten to talk to him yet this morning to get any answers, but he seemed as shocked by the whole thing as I was. Possibly not for the same reasons."
She sighed, figuring it was best to start at the beginning. Her finger traced shapes in the drops of water on the tabletop that had trickled down from her glass as she avoided looking at either of them. "My plans for last night included getting my bearings a bit more in this place, getting out and seeing what was around. With the challenge over the intercom last night about a new area opening, it seemed as good a direction as any. On my way there, I bumped into Zack, who I'd met earlier in the day, and found out he was headed the same way."
"He was intending to try the drugs. Once we found the place, I wasn't so sure he should. Perhaps it was foolish, but I didn't think I'd be too badly affected by whatever was there. In truth, compared to him, I'm not sure I was. Whatever I took gave me an unreasonable fear of the dark. I didn't realize what it was right away, it crept up slowly, while Zack's effects were almost immediate. I started hallucinating things out of the corner of my eye, in the shadows. And my flashlight kept going out, which was certainly not helping. I haven't felt such numbing panic like that since... well. A very long time," she amended, reluctant to complete that sentence.
"Zack, however," she continued, "must have got a different concoction. A few moments after he took the drug, he began a horrible and painful transformation. When it was finished, he was a huge dog. But there were things wrong with him. His body was rotted. He smelled of blood and death, and it wasn't a pleasant combination. I take it there are other creatures at night with a similar affliction? The bats we ran into later seemed to be the same way."
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Because seriously. Seriously. Vampire or not, that just was not a good life choice.
So. Not a werewolf. That was a good thing. (Right?) Turning into dogs like that was another episode of Manimal was significantly less good. At least he could swallow that pill pretty easily.
"That seems to be the consensus with anything that used to be an animal. I found a, uh, giant cat the other night. It was the same way." The one that had torn his throat out. Skipping over that. "Can you tell if it's worn off by now? This sounds kind of similar to something that happened to me. Replace fear of the dark with really, really bad luck. Don't ask."
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He tilted his head, recognition flickering in his eyes. Zack was a common name. It could've been a different Zack.
He doubted it. Plus, the guy hadn't looked particularly bright. He wouldn't be surprised if he'd joined Rose on her quest to be poster child for what not to do when faced with substances of unknown origins.
So, what, a bad trip and induced mutation? Great. Who even came up with this crap? The first might as well have come out of an after school special and the second sounded like a straight-to-video B-horror.
His gaze flicked to Alaric's throat at the mention of the cat, but shifted lazily back to Rose.
"Whatever happens here, it tends to be temporary. My guess is, he woke up this morning with opposable thumbs and a lingering desire to chase his tail."
Though who the hell knew. Maybe today was the day they decided to break the pattern.
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She pointed him out subtlety to Damon and Alaric. "That's him. All human and normal looking. Although how they'd explain a rotting dog showing up for breakfast, I'm not sure."
"As for me... I'm pretty sure it has. I'm not jumping at shadows, not that there's many around at the moment. I guess we'll see tonight if it's gone entirely." Wasn't that a comforting thought? She hoped whatever she'd taken didn't linger. She doubted Zack would appreciate being a rotting dog monster every night, either. That would complicated things considerably. Besides, then she'd be paranoid over any monster she ever came across.
Except for bats. Those she'd just kill on principle.
She was tired of dwelling on last night, so she leaned back in her chair, arms crossed over her chest, and eyed the two boys with her. "So. What happened with you two last night, or is it better if I don't ask?" she spoke, one corner of her lips quirking upwards, faint humor glinting in tired eyes.
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He was going to continue to do his best to never actually see the wolf part of any of them face-to-face. He'd done a pretty good job of it so far.
Rose tried to subtly shift the topic in the last direction Alaric had wanted. Dammit. After the whole thing with Stefan and Elena, he would have loved to continue talking about everything that wasn't him and unfortunate things happening to him. Or unfortunate things he'd been blackmailed into.
When her question was asked, Alaric politely cleared his throat and began spooning the gruel into his mouth. Between spoonfuls he managed two things: "Uh," and "Nothing much."
Real subtle, Saltzman.
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And maybe she earned a few points for making Rick dive for salvation in his bowl of melted cotton candy. Not that this was hard to do when it came to Rick, but still.
Damon leaned into Rose, all confiding-like, and said confidentially, "It's still a sensitive topic for him." He pulled away. "Though he did catch us up to current events. Unless you have anymore blanks to fill in about Elena and the big scary Klaus."
Where did Rose and Alaric line up in their stop-and-start memories, anyway? They were obviously closer in line than him or Stefan or Elena. Or, probably Elena. That might not last. How long before she remembered everything? And what the hell did everything consist of, anyway? More than what Rose remembered, even?
The thought of being behind that far didn't settle well, and especially now when Rose kept insisting on Elena being in danger...Whatever. Jumping ahead wasn't doing anyone favors. He wasn't about to bother with a blind guessing game.
no subject
When Damon pulled back, Rose did too, finally uncurling herself from the tight little ball she'd maintained since sinking into her chair earlier. At the mention of current events, she glanced between them, a puzzled frown flitting across her lips.
"Well, I've told you all I know once, but that's a moot point now. I don't know what blanks are left at the moment," she admitted, a hint of frustration flickering in her gaze. Of all the things she disliked about this place, that grated on her the most.
She looked over at Alaric again, not wanting to look at Damon for the moment. He was too observant by far and there were things she didn't want to have to inform him of. Not yet. Maybe not ever, because really, how did one bring that up? Although she wasn't fooling herself that she could keep that hidden forever. Eventually he'd figure out she was omitting something. And even if it wasn't important to him, it was to her.
"How much do we have known?" she asked, rather pleased when she managed to sound much calmer than before. "I'll fill in what holes I can, if there's any left after what you've told him."
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Okay, good. A topic he could wax poetics on that wasn't going to involve talking about blood donation. It wasn't that he was like, embarrassed or anything. (Christ, no.) It was just, you know. Talking about popping veins open when you were beside two probably very hungry vampires and barely having enough blood for one. And not being in love with any of them. That probably would have made it, like. Easier.
Once his mouth was empty of gruel, he pushed the bowl away from him, noting Rose's gaze. He didn't match it still. He was still pretty hesitant about meeting their eyes. Hunter paranoia.
"Most of my knowledge is from my wife's research about the sun and the moon curse. I know, uh. How you met Elena." Okay, he could sacrifice five seconds for a very pointed look at that. A look that said telling Damon about kidnapping and threatening Elena would be a bad idea. "The Lockwoods are werewolves, as well as a woman Damon and I were investigating named Jules. I haven't personally met Elijah, but... I've heard he's around."
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How Rose met Elena. See, here was what happened when you didn't coordinate your half-truths: one person decided to mention the half where Rose wound up in Mystic Falls because she was helping break a curse, and someone else decided to mention the other half where the key to breaking the curse involved Elena's blood. It raised some interesting questions. And if Rose had ever come across like someone capable of masterminding an evil plan to break this curse instead of coming across as more easily spooked than anything, and if they hadn't had more pressing matters like being here, things would be...less peaceable.
As it was, there was no point in invoking the conversation now. It'd be a waste when he could wait to put it to better use. Besides, he'd rather have it when Rick wasn't around. Third party interference was always inconvenient.
(There was also the fact that he suspected that at some point, he must've let it go, or she wouldn't have been alive long enough to help out the way Elena had described. He was far less interested in how or why this even happened. Neither Rose's memories nor Elena's were his. He didn't see why they should've held any bearing to him.)
"Mm, Jules. Guess she was the one that bit you, huh." The remark was both flippant and not all at once.
It wasn't like he'd meant to set the wolf girl on her. Probably. He couldn't remember it, but why the hell would he ever do that? That would be like poking a bear and hoping it ate the right person instead of you. There were easier ways to kill a vampire.
no subject
Impressive, really. It had taken Trevor almost a decade to piss her off this badly.
Maybe it was the unexpectedness of the emotion that had her reacting without thought, a need to vent all the frustration and fear and anger of the past week. More than likely, it was just that tone of his voice that had grated on her last nerve. Her fingers were curling into a fist even as she stood up and then her fist was swinging in a close arc directly for his face, faster than a human eye could follow.
She might hit like a girl, but at least she had enough strength to make up for it. Even if she did feel an ache of pain flare across her knuckles as her fist connected with his jaw. In her opinion, the pain was worth it. So was the look on his face that she relished for half a second.
"You," she stated succinctly, "are an ass."
Still fuming, she turned and cast a glance at Alaric, looking not at all remorseful over her flare of temper. "Enjoy the rest of your breakfast," she said, her voice sharp and short as she picked up her tray.
She cast one last scathing glance at Damon before stalking off towards the door
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Not that he had a lot of time to think all that over - or, you know, do the reasonable thing and ask what had happened afterward - before Rose was slugging Damon in the jaw in a moment pretty reminiscent of one of his own little conversations with the guy. He stared at Rose with raised eyebrows, giving a thoughtless little nod at her look. He forgot to say, "thanks."
When she was gone, his chest pitched forward a little, a smile coming to one side of his face. He didn't mean to laugh. Promise. Rose being pissed wasn't funny, werewolves in general weren't funny especially considering their bite, and this whole situation in general wasn't funny. It just... kind of happened. Alaric let the laughing roll out, turning back to Damon with a smug grin and a clap on his back.
"Sorry buddy, but, uh. You deserved that."
no subject
Clearly, she was still sensitive about the biting incident. How was he supposed to know? She'd spent the past few days acting like they were close friends which in her mind, apparently they were. Despite the whole, oops, I got you eaten factor.
Then again, Rick had gotten over it, too. Mostly. He figured as much, anyway. Damon generally didn't give it a lot of thought because it wasn't his problem how people dealt with his attempt on their life, successful or otherwise. Unless they tried to kill him in return. That usually made it his problem.
And of course the teacher would rediscover his sense of humor now.
Damon shot him an annoyed look and picked up Rose's discarded cup out of habit before he remembered nothing was in it. He put it back down. Alaric wasn't exactly wrong, but that wasn't the point. "Shut up."
Oh, sue him for not being inventive.