Comments | rowantree_logs: You are not my enemy

minthemagician in rowantree_logs

You are not my enemy

Mar 03, 2010 22:57

Who: Min and Damon
When: Wednesday March 3rd (Rowan time)
Where: Near the city center
What: Damon wants to "talk ( Read more... )

irmingard of landing, damon salvatore

Comments 45

getsthelastword March 4 2010, 05:05:52 UTC

Damon was bored. This was becoming a constant source of consternation for him as the days wore on (or zipped by) here in Rowan. He simply didn't tolerate being bored. The problem was that the sources of entertainment were severely limited. In fact, it was even worse than his good old mortal days. At least, back then, there was always some theatre or sport to take in. Worst came to worst, he could always antagonize his father. But now, here he was, stuck back in the middle ages without anyone to annoy ( ... )

minthemagician March 4 2010, 05:14:52 UTC

She looked down for just a second, and when she looked back up he was approaching. She did her very best to appear impassive, tearing off another bit of bread and dunking it in the broth.

"Thanks, but I know how to use a mirror." Min popped the bread into her mouth.

getsthelastword March 4 2010, 05:18:32 UTC

A mirror joke. Too bad she didn't know jack about vampires. Otherwise, it would have been really, very funny. Incorrect (God, he hated that particular vampire myth), but funny. Still, it told Damon plenty. This conversation was not going to start with witty banter, so it would have to start with charm. "I don't blame you," he said, sitting down next to her. "If I had a face like that, I'd never be able to stop looking in the mirror."

Not bad. On his charm scale, he'd give it at least a six and a half. Maybe seven. An eight, if they had been in a dark and smoldering corner in some happening night club with the bass way off balance and the mood steeped in smoke.

God, was he really going to have to wait another several hundred years for nightclubs to appear again?

minthemagician March 4 2010, 05:38:16 UTC

Despite herself, she smiled at that. A little tic of a smile on one side of her lips. Oh, Gods, Irmingard. Just how dense are you? It dropped away. Mostly.

"You wanted to talk about something?" They could get to the heart of the matter first. Then she'd decide whether she wanted anything to do with him ever again.

Thread 45