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[ Someone doesn't seem to realise he's being broadcast, instead he's happily plucking bottles of alcohol out of his closet. ]

And how many bottles of bourbon does it take to get Damon Salvatore drunk... [ Well, he's done worse than talk to himself, but what is probably more alarming is from where the camera is aimed at him, at least six bottles of Buffalo Trace Kentucky Bourbon can be seen.

It's probably a good thing he's doing something other than annoy Evie on the beach... Because really, that's all he was doing. At one point he even threw a towel down and said he was working on his tan...

When he turns around with a seventh bottle, he seems to notice that his phone's recording him. ]

For anyone curious, the answer is at least seven.

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[Evelyn, who often leaves the little wireless on just to have some music while she works, finds the transmission interrupted by the fizzing pop of a communicator line being turned on by itself. (Wonderland, whose sole goal is to denigrate or humiliate its more temporary residents, often does this, but she usually switches it off in time before the victim knows they've been exposed.)

Her fingers hesitate on the dial, snorting over the pottery sherds she found and was meticulously cleaning outside.

At least he's stopped pretending to sun himself.]

Should I be surprised by this apparent revelation.

[ He was sunning himself, thank you, laying out in the sun is sunning.

Damon squints at her, before eyebrows raise and she shakes his head a bit, giving her a look like he knows something she doesn't. ]

You just can't stay away - I knew you were obsessed with me. [ He raises one hand up into view, showing off his bottle of bourbon, ring finger tapping against the neck of the bottle to produce a little clink from his daylight ring. ] You a bourbon girl?

[If Evelyn could roll her eyes into another dimension, she probably would. Idly chewing on the end of a pencil and frowning down at her work while she listens to him talk, she contemplates the odds of the universe that has chosen to bequeath unto her a number of overly flirtatious gentlemen.

She should really be keeping track by now.]

I prefer Scotch whisky, actually.

[A selection in alcohol she can blame on her brother and husband, the former of whom drinks like a fish.]

But you don't seem especially particular about what you imbibe.

A Scotch whiskey girl, I can work with that.

[ He'll bring you some booze, Evie, don't you worry. ]

Are you calling me a cheap drunk?

[ Oh look, some playful offense. ]

Maybe I am. [ He's not, he's got his brands, okay. ]

You're only a cheap drunk if it takes you a couple before you've slipped under the table,

[she points out, being the textbook definition of "Cheap Drunk" herself. It isn't really Evelyn's fault, of course - her brother does the drinking for her. Someone in their family had to bite that bullet after their parents died, and it wasn't going to be little sixteen year old Evie.]

If you're indiscriminate about the quality, you're an alcoholic. I tend to be the former.

[Cheap drunk she might be, but it doesn't mean that the mileage of those drinks isn't long and hilarious, because it usually is. There's a reason she doesn't imbibe recreationally.]

So you're calling me an alcoholic?

[ The question is simply to make her uncomfortable, he knows he is. He's a high functioning alcoholic, most vampires are. It helps with the urges, makes chewing on someone's neck seem just a little less important, and that makes it worth it. ]

You should watch out who you tell that too - some guys might try to take advantage of that. [ Eyebrows raise, and the smile and the look in his eyes clearly says mischief. ]

[Funny thing about alcoholics, they're often in denial. Or worse, they're so deeply entrenched that they've stopped caring. Evelyn doesn't answer his question because her raised eyebrows should say enough to convey her thoughts on the subject.]

I know my limits, [she points out,] And it would hardly behoove me to lie.

[Three stiff drinks in and she'd be swearing like a sailor, wholly undignified.]

Besides, [Evelyn grins,] I don't think you'd be so ungentlemanly as to take advantage of me.

You've met me, right?

[ He's joking, of course, the smile on his lips makes that clear. While he has done plenty of skeevy stuff in his life, he hasn't even considered trying to get her drunk and take advantage of her. If he were going to try, it'd have been easier to simply compel her into doing whatever he wanted.

He'd done so with Caroline, because no one had been there to make him behave, and while Stefan hardly counted right now, Damon wanted to behave, at least a little. ]

I'll even carry you home if it comes down to it.

Tempting.

[While Evelyn is by and large the sort of woman who often gets herself into all manner of trouble, being sloshed around near strangers/new acquaintances is beyond her brand of adventuresome. Particularly given recent events and unwanted home invasions.]

Should I get that in writing for insurance?

[ Damon grins, showing off pearly whites, but lacking the fangs that she probably wasn't very fond of. ]

Who says I'd abide by a contract, I'm a vampire - I break rules, it's what vampires do.

[ But he really would help her back to her room, he's done it once before. ]

Is it really?

[How good and thoughtful he is; the world seems full of good men - even if there are monsters in it.]

And here I was, under the impression that it was your sworn duty to follow the tenets of your existence, seducing hapless women and inspiring fear in the locals. [Evelyn shrugs with her eyebrows.] Although Bram Stoker might be off.

Is that all? [She smirks and starts pulling bottles of Four Roses out of her own closet, enough to outdo him by a long shot. Seven is impressive enough to assume he's super-whatsit-something-or-other, but she's wayyy more interested in the simple fact that someone else around here (besides Crowley) wants to get shithoused for once.

Did you want a drinking buddy, Damon? Good, 'cause you're getting one.]

Headed anywhere in particular, lightweight?

[ A girl of his heart - calling him a lightweight. Damon flashes her a smile as he watches her dig out her own booze.

Okay, he may be a little impressed. Just a little. ]

The beach, care to join me? [ Like he's going to say no to a pretty stranger that is so clearly an alcoholic like he is and obviously something that goes bump in the night; Damon just assumes vampire. ]

[The invitation is plenty intriguing for this bored little demon, but she pretends to consider it for a moment before answering anyway.]

Don't mind if I do. [She looks thoughtful for a moment as she loads up the booze into a tote bag, then pulls a few other things out of the closet just off-camera. She's still smirking as she comes back into frame with flip flops dangling from an index finger.] Meetcha by the front door in five?

[ When she comes back into frame he's already got a bottle of suntan lotion in his hand. ]

I'll be there.

[ And he will be. Barefoot in swim-trunks and a black t-shirt, with an arm load of beach towels, alcohol, and suntan lotion, all balanced precariously against his chest.

The kicker are the bug eye sunglasses that look like he might have just stolen them from Paris Hilton. ]

[It's a mere few minutes before she's got her shit entirely together, and while she won't appear in plain sight, she sure will come out of seemingly nowhere in a black crochet cover-up that really did nothing of the sort hanging off one pale shoulder. The dark red bikini she's sporting shows off her slim figure, and the flip flops don't exactly provide the vertical advantage of her preferred heels.

Her own sunglasses are just classic black ray bans, but she's got a healthy appreciation for the Simple Life aesthetic and merely smirks at his style choice. The asshole is actually pulling it off, so she'll just let that one go. For now.

She's got her own tote bag full of booze, SPF, and reading material just in case he's a gigantic bore, but the second she sizes him up in person she gets the vibe that won't really be an issue. She breezes past him and out the door, offering only a sly smile in passing to greet him.]

Hope that's your big boy suit. You're gonna need it.

Edited 2015-05-27 00:57 (UTC)

[ When Damon lays eyes on her, he simply raises an eyebrow, barely seen above his sunglasses. Sure she was kinda short, but she was hot, and he wouldn't deny that. He definitely had every intention of offering to rub sun tan lotion on her later. Every damn intention.

Her smirk draws one of his own, and he simply watches her for a moment, amused. ]

My big boy suit is my birthday suit - and I don't think you're ready for that yet. [ Easily he falls into step with her, not because he's fast but because one of his strides was a lot longer than hers. ]

And what does a pretty little thing like you call herself?

[Attempting a few dramatic exits with Sam Winchester around had Meg pretty damn used to taller men catching up with her easily. Dean and Cas weren't much better, but at least Crowley didn't fall into that category. She ain't even mad that Damon does, though. He gets a sidelong glance and a chuckle as they walk.]

Please. [He could whip it out and sit around naked for the rest of the afternoon and it wouldn't faze her in the least, but there's something to be said for leaving a little mystery. Or something.] You have no idea.

[She casually flips her hair behind her shoulders as they walk, and when he asks her name, she answers in a nonchalant tone.] Meg. And you are?

[ Gurl he likes the attitude you got goin' on. ]

Damon Salvatore, The Fun Brother™. Not to be confused with the smaller, bite-sized less handsome Salvatore brother Stefan. Nice to meet you, Meg.

[ He'd offer to shake her hand, but his were full at the moment, so she'll have to settle for a flash of white teeth instead. The whole way she portrays herself is cute, feisty, and he loves cute and feisty, so he won't complain about the company one bit. ]

[She's a fan of his swag as well. The abs don't hurt and she's clearly a sucker for baby blues, but attitude really goes a long way with her.]

Brothers, huh? [Because she really needs more sibling rivalry in her life.........] I might have to judge that for myself, but I'm inclined to believe you.

[She grins back, dark stained lips contrasting prettily with pearly whites. Witty, attractive company suits her just fine, especially if there's alcohol involved.] Nice too meet you, too. It's harder than it should be to find a good time around this place.

[Sorry Dean, doesn't quite make the cut WHEN YOU END UP GETTING LITERALLY STABBED]

[ Don't tell him any of that, his head is big enough. ]

You can judge it all you like - I know where I stand in relation to Mr. Brooding Hero Hair. [ Damon tugs a shoulder up in a careful lazy shrug, being sure not to let any of his precious good fall to the ground. ]

You know, I'm starting to notice that - this place kind of sucks most of the time. [ He hasn't been staying the fuck out of Dean's way, but then, they got along just fine, and maybe that should say something. Either way, both the Winchesters he's met, he gets along well enough with. Just wait until he meets Sam. ] Events, killing sprees, uppity British families.

[ That shit sucks man. ]

Fair enough. I'll keep an eye out. Fair warning though, I do have a thing for brooding hero hair. [cough. angel? what angel?] Might be a little biased.

No shit. [Sucks is an understatement as far as Meg is concerned and she wrinkles her nose.] Haven't had the pleasure of the latter yet, but being the grand finale of said killing spree wasn't quite my idea of fun.

[She'd readily admit that Dean was fantastic in the sack, but what with the subsequent lying and trapping and murder... not exactly something she wanted to repeat. Her smile turns a little more soft and genuine as the beach comes into view. Being in hell for any length of time will teach you to stop and smell the breeze when you have a chance. You'd never know how zen she felt right then by her consistently sass-laden tone, but the landscape was probably her favorite part of Wonderland.] I think we're off to a good start, though.

Edited 2015-05-27 03:14 (UTC)

Oh no, you're one of those? [ The face he pulls makes it clear he's joking, if she thinks Stef's more her type he won't be one to get in the way. ] You should always go for the bad boys, the heroic ones always end up snapping and murdering people. It's an unwritten law.

[ His eyes traverse from his things to her, giving her a grin that says he thinks he's funny. ] Dying is never fun. What a bummer. [ Was he supposed to say sorry?

Her smile causes him to follow her gaze, he'd seen a lot in his life, but he was never one to complain about beautiful sights. ] I'd say we are too. And let's keep it rolling that way. Neither one of us have been having the best month apparently.

[ Damon stops the moment they hit the sand, wiggling his toes in it and letting out a sigh. ] Nothing like good old beach sand.

I am. [She totally knows he's kidding and plays along, shaking her head at herself as if in shame. Operative words being AS. IF. She's actually utterly shameless, but hey. This body was an actress, after all. She adds thoughtfully, as if capable of analyzing her own patterns and learning from them:] See though, I go for the heroic ones after they snap and murder people.

[Literally so painfully true... she's cringing on the inside, but her poker face is oh-so-flawless. Ish.] It's really not. Second time this year, too. [She's not looking for condolences, she's looking for someone to get white girl wasted with. It's her turn to casually shrug as she gives an exaggerated despondent sigh, then grins.] Yeah... let's.

[That genuine smile - only subtly different than the one she puts on when it's intentional, but noticeable to anyone paying attention - returns as her own toes hit the sand, and she kicks off her shoes in order to fully enjoy it. She slides her sunglasses down her nose and takes in the whole horizon, then looks up at Damon. It's a mistake really, he's way too pretty for this to end well. Good thing she's not all that concerned with endings. In her experience, they suck.

She wrinkles her nose at him and looks back out over the water.] Weird... I almost don't entirely hate this.

You're not even remotely worried about liver damage, are you?

[Nope, Claire doesn't know that he's a vampire.]

Liver damage wishes it could touch me. [ The way he raises his eyebrows before squinting over the video clearly says he's somehow made that sexual. ]

Don't worry about little ole me, this is nothing compared to the amounts I was drinking when I lived in New York.

I'm going to ignore that. [ Claire wasn't getting a good vibe from him. ]

And yet, somehow you haven't managed to die of alcohol poisoning. How is that possible?

I'm a medical mystery it seems.

[ But if anyone tries to cut him open and run experiments on him again, he will kill them. ]

Or maybe I was born with an extra liver.

Are you going to give me a straight answer or keep me guessing?

[Because she'll tire of it easily.]

[ s i g h. ]

I'm a vampire, Bella. I can't waste time worrying about my liver because it's already died once.

That explains it then. [Claire isn't freaked out, coming from a world full of angels.]

Vampires don't exist where I'm from but I've heard about them through being in Wonderland.

And you didn't even share?

I'll be at the beach. [ Hope you didn't miss that wink, April. ]

Is that an invitation?

Definitely an invitation.

I'll be there soon, then.

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