[OPEN]

[getsthelastword]

Characters: Damon and anyone who chooses to join in
Setting/Location: Common Room
Date & Time: Day 59
Warnings: Drunkenness and beads
Summary: Damon's throwing a party. He'll probably make himself feel better by making other people feel bad.

Comments

[itsahotone]

Santana strolled in, eager for alcohol. After half of the people from home vanished, she really needed to just get trashed and forget about where she was stuck.

She had no idea what the guy she talked to looked like, but she took the risk and wore her Cheerios uniform anyway. Even if he was a total fug, maybe the skirt would attract the attention of someone worthy.

Looking around, she sighed heavily. Maybe not.

[getsthelastword]

The cheerleading outfit was hard to miss, but it took Damon awhile to break away from other company and approach Santana. That was probably for the best. He didn't want to appear too eager. Frankly, he was so hungry that he knew he had to be careful, lest he come off as a spaz. With age, he had gotten better at controlling his savage side, when he wanted to, but when he was hungry, that control was a bit like Jello

[itsahotone]

Oh, someone actually kind of attractive. Awesome. Santana sipped at her drink and gave him a scrutinizing look. She didn't recognize the voice just yet.

"Excuse me? What's old-fashioned?" And what kind of greeting was that?

[getsthelastword]

Damon flashed one of his most charming smiles. "The cheerleading get up. Not what I was expecting. I was imagining something in the bare-midriff family. But this is old fashioned. It's nice. Sort of classy. Makes me think of a John Hughes movie or something."

He reached out for Santana's hand and planted a kiss on her knuckles. "Damon Salvatore," he said, in case she hadn't figured that part out yet. "And you must be the 'exotic-looking' Santana?" Briefly, he considered busting out the Italian, just to show off, but he got the sense that Santana probably wouldn't be so impressed. In a way, he kind of liked that in a woman. Not so much in a herd, but he was still open to the possibility of liking her.

[itsahotone]

Ah, so this was the guy. Santana gave him another searching look, then appeared to come to a conclusion. Smoldering good looks was not a total lie after all.

She raised an eyebrow at the hand-kiss, because come on. Speaking of old-fashioned.

"Guess so," she said, taking her hand back to toss her hair over her shoulder. "And we were too serious for the bare midriff. Our coach wanted awards, not a sex riot." She smirked then. "Not that that stopped anyone."

[getsthelastword]

"Oh, I like awards as much as the next person," Damon replied easily, "but nothing beats a good sex riot." He gave her a sly smile that said trouble. "Not that I would know."

Damon took note of their surroundings. There were too many people in close proximity to them. If he wanted to make a move to her neck, he would have to move the conversation to a more secluded part of the room. Thank God he was good at making out. And that a vampire bite was a pleasant sensation (he could still remember how good it felt, after all those years). Getting the conversation to move, however, would take finesse.

"So how do you like the festivities?"

[itsahotone]

Santana shrugged, glancing around at everyone else. "It's all right. There's alcohol not badly made from potatoes, so I count that as a win."

Speaking of. She raised her glass and drained it. She was looking to get drunk here, not stand around nursing one drink all night.

[getsthelastword]

Oh, this was perfect. Damon grinned, raising his own glass and downing it. No need to dwell on the fact that it was not, in fact, alcohol. He was going to save it until after he had gotten something a bit more nourishing. Drunk and starving was a bad combination for a vampire.

"Well," he said, "it looks like it's time for a refill." He jerked his head over in the direction of the drinks. It was slightly more secluded in that area. That and a few drinks might accomplish something for Damon tonight.

[itsahotone]

"Looks like," Santana replied, cheerfully enough. If she knew Damon more, she'd insist on his going and getting her a new drink. Since she didn't, she made her own way over, hips swinging. She didn't say anything to him, because she figured if he was worth her time, he'd follow.

[getsthelastword]

Damon followed, all right. And though Santana wasn't his type, he couldn't help but admire her backside. Not bad. Of course, cheerleaders were generally pretty tight where they needed to be. The only drawback to a cheerleader, as far as Damon could tell, was the stupid sportsbras they tended to wear, but those were deal with easily enough. Damon so preferred a push up. He was a fan of the Wonder Bra.

At the counter, Damon quickly picked out what he believed to be the most potent of the potables and poured a healthy dose into Santana's glass. He kept the bottle in his hand, at the ready for the next refill. And the one after that. He'd know the limit. He was very careful about that.

"So, cheerleader," he said, oozing charm from every pore, "do you want to tell me where you're from, or should I guess? I'm very good at these kind of things."

[itsahotone]

Santana, who did not do sportsbras as a general I am too hot for those rule, wasn't actually expecting him to pour her drink. But that was cool, she could roll with that. She took a sip, noting its strength but appreciating it all the same, and looked up at Damon.

"Well now you went and talked yourself up. Go ahead, impress me."

[getsthelastword]

Damon gave her a look of mock concentration. He wanted to look like he was thinking. Instead, he was doing his best to try and activate some small, flickering ember of his former abilities. He used to be so good when it came to the mental disciplines. It was damn near like being naked not to have access to them anymore. At least, not in their full glory.

He could pick up a tiny sliver of sensation.

"I get a midwest sense from you," he declared after a moment. "No discernible accent, so we'll rule out Wisconsin and Minnesota, which is just as well because they're terrible. You're pretty savvy, so some place near a big city, so no Iowa or Indiana. You're no farmer's daughter anyway." He tapped his teeth, but that was the last of his power for now. Time to take a wild stab. "Columbus," he decided.

[itsahotone]

Santana was actually a little impressed. Her smile wasn't exactly innocently pleased, though.

"Wow. Close. Lima, which is way less exciting than Columbus, but yeah, you're not bad. Consider me slightly impressed." She held her glass in mock-salute before drinking.

[getsthelastword]

"I can tell that's quite an accomplishment," Damon said, "I consider myself honored." He chuckled softly. Damon's chuckle could be almost as charming as his smile. It was almost exhausting putting forth all the effort, but Damon just kept reminding himself that it would be worthwhile. His teeth would stop tingling, for one thing. And maybe he'd stop hearing every single pulse of every single person in the room. That could get really annoying. It was really annoying.

"So...Lima, Ohio?" Damon tried to remember anything he knew about Lima, but the only thing he was coming up with was lima beans and he was pretty sure that wasn't going to help him much. Diversion was called for, he supposed. "Is that anywhere near Youngstown?" he asked. "I passed through there a while ago. Crazy boring place. Knew a girl though. What was her name? It was something with a D..." Damon genuinely didn't care all that much, so he shrugged. "Well, she was hot, anyway."

[itsahotone]

Speaking of boring... Santana didn't really care about random people he may have met in Ohio. She shrugged, sipping her drink slower this time around, but not too slow.

"I don't really know. All I know is that Lima is small and boring, but at least I'm hot enough to help the time go by before I can leave for good." She frowned a little. "Of course, compared to being stuck here and being pulled by a giant, even Lima has its perks."

[getsthelastword]

Damon snorted. "Nothing quite like looking out the window and seeing a giant, jelly butt," he muttered, tilting his glass in her direction before taking a sip. "Need a refill?" He didn't even wait for a reply, he simply refilled her glass for her.

"So you're just passing the time before you can leave for good?" He raised an eyebrow. "Big plans? Heading off to New York or Los Angeles to break into show business?" That was a trifle cliche, but cliches had to come from someplace. There was always a grain of truth to them.