#nextcontestant

-Rodger

que chido!"

"Lo sé, sólo una de las muchas características geniales que tengo. A veces no es la más fiable, pero funciona."

(I know, just one of the many cool features I have. Sometimes it's not the most reliable, but it works.)

(Vee V1 askblog/ rpblog, so please do interact. let's go over the basics)

(If it's in brackets, it's OOC, in parentheses "with green text" is Vee talking, and asterisks *with green text* is what Vee is doing.)

(DNI proshippers, darkshippers, bigots)

(there will be a lot of headcanons in this, my version of Vee is not going to be 100% faithful to canon. That's just how I roll)

(Vee uses She/They/It, because HEADCANON, mod uses They/It)

(I won't be doing any ships with this blog, sorry shellvision fans, and other shippers. This Vee is VERY aroace.)

(being mean ic is fine, Vee is an asshole sometimes so it's fair to bite back, but do NOT take it OOC. What Vee does =/= what I do)

( #Onstage on all posts )

( #asktheaudience on asks )

( #nextcontestant on RP interactions )

(Non-canon characters/ OC interactions are welcome)

"Right, next question!"

KLAROLINE DRABBLE : Based on these lyrics ,

Caroline was bent over the ice machine, refilling a bucket with the frozen chunks of water when the shrill, overtly sweet and far too much like nails-on-chalk voice rang out, all high-pitched and annoying, echo somewhere from over her left shoulder. That was the thing about being a Vampire, she’d never been so sensitive to sound before. “Cece!” The voice rang out again, just as high, just as annoying. Caroline immediately cringed at the horrid nickname, irked enough her teeth itched to grow, and struggled, forced now to fight back the urge to unleash that damned inner beast that lashed now, irrevocably, for the freedom to end this irritation in her life once and for all. Caroline succeeded, but only by biting down sharply on her own tongue.

Carefully, and with meticulous precision, the kind usually reserved for much more complicated tasks, Caroline set the ice bucket down and turned on a heel, morphing her expression so that by the time she was fully facing Jamie-lynn, there was nothing but the largest of fake smiles plastered across her overtly chipper face. “Jami-jams! How are you!?” Jamie hated that nickname about as much as she hated hers, but that was exactly why she used it, unable to help the flick of a bitchily smug smirk. It was much harder forcing the enthusiasm to suppress the urge to roll melodramatic eyes as Jamie strutted up for a totally dramatic (and totally lame, did she think that was supposed to be cool or something?) European style air-kiss to both sides, twice. Caroline went along with it, mustering the patience to keep this encounter with her frenemy civil. “Fabulous, duuh. Anyway, that creepy-loser-stalker man of yours is at it again.” Jamie shrugged, as though she hated telling her this but Caroline could hear her heart, rush with the thrill of trying to egg her on. The little bitch.

Determined to ignore her, Caroline reached back to angrily snatch up the ice bucket, but Jamie wasn’t done. With a cocked hip out, the hot little redhead mocked her with a smug smile. “You remember what management said, one more altercation and they’ve got to let you go.” Again, Jamie smirked, clearly delighted by this thought. She should, she’d been the top tip earner until Caroline had started working here. “Consider this a friendly FYI.” That was it. She could stuff that FYI up her you-know-where, and Caroline was so furious, she was about ready to do that and punch that damned self-satisfied expression off the catty girls face, only to compel her to think she’d only tripped in some mortifyingly embarrassing way possible. Caroline was about to, when struck with the thought that, bitch or not, Jamie was right. They would fire her if Klaus hurt anymore of the clientele. Frankly, Caroline didn’t even know how many times now he’d compelled them all to forget his lifelong ban. The one that was erected each and every time he showed up here.

It was getting ridiculous.

With a smile that was so forced it failed to reach her glowering eyes, Caroline slammed the ice bucket into Jamie’s hands and walked passed her with a snarky, “I’ll take care of it.” And she would, too. Caroline hated having to compel humans, and already had twice to get this damned job back. Frankly, she didn’t get what the hell his problem was. It’s not like it was some strip club, or even a freaking bar for that matter. It was the Mystic Grill, and okay so maybe she had to wear a black skirt, but it was classy thankyouverymuch, not slutty. In the least. Fuming, and huffing out irritated breaths Caroline pushed away the bar tender who tried to come warn her about Klaus – at least that is what she assumed he wanted, and didn’t have time to deal with that crap. For all she knew, her jealous beast of a boyfriend would be killing some poor boy who made the mistake of complimenting her shoes. It didn’t even matter if said individuals sexual preference didn’t encompass girls, no one was safe from Klaus’s jealousy.

Not even women!

Hell, she was surprised he didn’t pop an aneurysm every time she hugged Bonnie. At least Kol didn’t look like he wanted to make her head his next baseball when Bonaline needed bonding time. Running a hand through her long blonde locks, Caroline scans a desperate eye from left to right and back again, going over and over the crowd, fearing for the worst but seeing nothing that out of the ordinary. Oh shit! I’m too late. Her first thought, broiled in the mind of frantic fear. Ironically, it was more Klaus’s wellbeing she worried for, in too much of an irrational panic to find comfort in the fact he could just as easily compel the bouncers or cops to forget (Caroline preferred this delusion to the cold hard fact he would more likely just kill them.) However, as she spun on a heel, large wide eyes sweeping the dining crowd she nearly jumped out of her skin when a hand gently touched her shoulder. Whipping her head, half expecting a furious Klaus or a furious Boss (either way, hesitation marred her movement) but sighed in relief to realize it was just Issac, concern softening his large friendly eyes. “Carebear, you okay?” Caroline was about to say no – he was always a patient ear to unload things on – when she felt the familiar sizzle of eyes on her back.

Niklaus.

Excusing herself from Issac with a quick thanks-for-the-concern pat to the back even as she spun around, twisting to find him lounging back in the solitude of a booth. Like he hadn’t a care in the world, but she knew otherwise. Could feel the tension seep from his skin and radiate out like an aura of riveting jealousy. So strong it was almost hard to stay mad at him, considering it implied he really, truly, cared. Some could say it was because he was only trying to possess her – they wouldn’t be the first to try to tell her this if they did – but Caroline knew otherwise. He didn’t act like this with other girls, and strangely the first guy to make her feel like he put her first. That alone could melt her anger, but too bad for him she was stubborn enough now to cling to it, hands on hips as she paused in front of his table. “Can I get you anything, or are you just taking up my tables again?” She tried to look haughty, she really did, but the sly bastard always made her smile. Shaking her head, Caroline mocked a playfully angry look and threw the rag used to clean tables at his chest. He caught it, of course, but that so isn’t the point. “You’ve got to loosen up before I give you something to be jealous over.”

Caroline flashed him a wickedly pointed look, as though to emphasize her point before leaving him to stew in this little lesson. He was so not going to make her loose this job. It made her feel normal, gave her the chance to hang out with her old friends, and frankly, what was so wrong with wanting to earn a little shopping funds herself instead of just letting him pay for everything. Really, she was half tempted just to take his credit card if only to make him instantly regret that decision. Clearly he hadn’t seen her shop. Still mulling over these ideas as she slid up to her next table, Caroline couldn’t help but flash Klaus smug looks from above the notepad she jotted the guy’s order down in. Having leaned in close to take it, if only to drive her damn point home, if he didn’t stop being so jealous, she would start acting more flirty.

Sometimes, that was the only way she could think to deal with him. That, and the threat of turning things pink of course. He held an abnormal fear for that colour, which predictably only made her like it in the first place.

Nik wasn’t the only stubborn one.