[It's taped into the journal somewhat haphazardly, as though it was for someone that it's clear wouldn't care about making sure that it's perfectly aligned. The picture has lines in it that showed that it was just printed recently, possibly by a printer that was running out of ink, but the picture is clear enough, at any rate.

You really can't mistake it for anything else.

Written under it, on an angle in sloppy handwriting, but by some miracle still legible:]

Do you think we'll have to shear you?


[This is technically supposed to be a private message to Alek Hale. But Ava is so invested in getting it to him that she ... may have forgotten to lock it.




W h o o p s.

Hi, boat. Do with this what you will.]

[damon is not in the best emotional state, but he really hasn't been in decades. the event that happened this morning may have something to do with his being particularly worse at the moment. or everything to do with it. his own endless self sabotaging and the betrayal in elena's eyes, and it's been decades, but he can damage the hell out of something in no time flat, can't he? he is incredibly talented at damage and destruction

especially of himself. he is drunk already trying to numb the-- how it feels, and it feels like hell. he's been lonely and utterly destroyed for a long time, and it's no less than he deserves. and now here he is again, standing in the ruins of another mess he's made, destroying what means most to him.]

Who wants to get drunk and/or have sex?

Party in the club in the lower decks! And everyone's invited. ;)

Also, sorry about the mess on the top deck. All me. You can hit me for it if you want to, but be warned, I bite.

Stefan is following Rebekah out of their cabin.

Well, technically he wasn't following her, exactly, he was trying to catch her pull her back into the cabin and go back to pretending the rest of the world doesn't exist - it's an adequate distraction, really, all things considered, to distract him from the things he's missing and will never have again. They travel and see the world and take comfort in each other. It's the life they could have had, once upon a time, before her brother interfered and robbed them both of it.

So he reaches for her as she's heading out the door, shirt untucked over a pair of suit pants and shoes, but as he stumbles through the door after her, he finds himself not on the train that was rocking them quickly towards the next stop in their journey. No, instead he was standing on the deck of a cruise ship, staring out into an ocean. He blinks at his surroundings for a moment, briefly looking to his left and right for any sign of Rebekah, before letting out a groan.

Damn rifts.

He's angry for now, because anger is easier to summon and address, rather than considering the idea that he may have just been separated from the last important person he had. The grief will probably come later, once he's determined how long he's stuck here for. Is it for a few hours? Days? Years? It's hard to tell, really.

For right now, he'll just look fairly annoyed as he wanders down the hallways, trying to see what there is to see before it rears up and eats him. He did not survive the destruction of Chicago to be eaten by a sea monster.

[OOC: SO as I mentioned there's magical journals like there were in BTR. everyone gets one if they stay long enough. you can make public and private posts as well as locking messages/posts to a specific person, and damon is gonna break it in by trolling the hell out of it. apologies. kinda >> feel free to hijack/talk to other people who reply. names appear by the comment made just like in BTR.]

[damon is shirtless and in swim trunks, a bit wet, lounging on one of the lounge chairs, sipping on a beachy drink complete with umbrella. there is some weird bartender today. a ghost that can actually serve real drinks. whatever. the truth is there's something special in those bartending drinks which means tipsiness can come quicker especially for the likes of a vampire.]

Direct, slightly drunken report from the pool on the top deck. Watching two nauseating lovebirds be completely gross with one another. Thankfully, I have booze and one of the lovebirds (Elena) has amazing cleavage in that bikini top.

The other lovebird is now threatening to bite me. Kinky. ;)

Except I'm not interested. Not that I don't love a good bite [ooc: LMFAO] but not from this particular gross, smelly source.

Will I be forced to hurl all over the deck? Will I be flipping the lovebirds a bird of my own? Will the biter and the me come to blows... or will there be sufficient distraction instead? Only time and you will tell, dear reader. ;)