prologue;
disclaimer: I own nothing of vampire diaries or the originals, all I have is my own character
Euphemia's eyes raked over the crowds bustling around her, hunching her shoulders in an attempt to blend in better. The once familiar town of Mystic Falls was no longer that, now made up of "aged" brick buildings instead of the forests and colonial houses she fondly remembered. It had been a long time, over a hundred years, since her return to the small Virginian town, and she wasn't quite pleased to be stepping foot back into the haunting place. It was a nest for vampirism, but more so, it was buried with painful memories she didn't want to rouse. But, of course, over the centuries she had come to realize that fate just loved messing with her— and here she was, huddled against the masses of the new era. Shoving her hand into the pocket of her leather jacket, she pulled out a flip phone, speed-dialing one of the few contacts on her device. After six impatient rings, and with a heavy sigh, she received a dial tone.
"Come on, Elijah," she growled, "pick up your stupid phone." But he hadn't returned her calls in days, and she feared he never would. Her older brother had left for this godforsaken town weeks ago, something on his mind he felt he had to settle. Usually he disclosed such matters to her, but her Elijah also had the habit of sheltering her from anything he thought would do her harm— supposedly, this was one of those times. But, as per their agreement, he should have contacted her everyday— and her brother never flaked, never wavered on a promise, especially not to her. Something was wrong, whether it was the shudder down her spine or the nagging feeling lodged in her throat that gave it away, but Euphemia knew she had to come. So she sucked up whatever reluctance she had felt towards this small town, now parading the streets in search of her older brother.
And he was nowhere to be found. She was certainly enraged— no one harmed her family without feeling the fiery might of her wrath (something Niklaus taught her to say, "With passion."). It wasn't that she was necessarily worried for his health— he was an original, he couldn't be killed— but it was the audacity of such an attempt that called for revenge. But her violent justice would have to wait, for she had a brother to find, and time was ticking. And she had just the place to look.
Euphemia had never found the appeal in surrounding herself with humans, as her older sister tended to do. She thought they broke too easily, tasted too good. High School was the worst of her own mortal experience, having to relive it every time Rebekah caught a whim and decided to drag her along for the adventure. Shoulder-bag slung over her shoulder, the brunette vampire tucked her chin in an attempt to hide with the shuffling horde of teenagers around her. The first period bell had already rung, and she was blindly trying to find her way to the front office to collect her transcripts. According to one of her last phone calls with Elijah, there was a number of sources he was investigating in this school— because apparently vampires were all the rage with teenagers these days— so she had planned on searching for the names he vaguely mentioned. A good place to start, she imagined, would be the infamous Elena Gilbert, someone (based on her brothers highly annoyed tone) was a royal thorn in his side. Usually she got a kick out of anyone who managed to actually irritate Elijah— quite the feat for such a charming guy— but given the situation, she figured this Gilbert could truly shed some light on what had happened to her dearest brother. Weaving around a boisterous group of boys, Euphemia finally spotted her elusive destination, quickly ducking inside to avoid the oncoming mass of lower classmen coming her way.
A stout woman was hunched over the main desk, scribbling raggedly as if her life depended on it. Euphemia stepped up with an awkward wave, catching the nameless woman's attention away from her papers, "Hi, I'm here for a transfer." The woman— Irene, as her flowery name tag declared— gave her a thoroughly unimpressed look. Euphemia supposed she wasn't as easy on the eyes, her lean shoulders hidden under a too-large leather jacket which covered her maroon hoodie and graphic t-shirt. Ripped jeans and battered shoes gave no allusion to an upstanding young adult. But she wasn't exactly all that young either, was she?
"Name," Irene drawled, leaning over to shuffle through stacks of identical documents. Euphemia bit her lip, thinking of an appropriate answer. Unlike most of her siblings, when she decided to play human, she liked to change her name. It made it easier to immerse herself into a new life, made it easier to leave without a trace.
"Della Michaels," she finally decided, boredly shifting the strap of her bag over her shoulder. She watched as Irene rifled though the files of transcripts, dark eyebrows beginning to furrow as she seemed to come up blank.
"I'm sorry but—"
"—you have all the documents you need for my transfer," Euphemia said, leaning forward to stare into the other woman's green eyes. Smugly, she watched as Irene's irises contracted, as she numbly nodded and echoed her previous statement. "And while you're at it, doll, make sure all my classes match up with Elena Gilbert's."
The desk jockey smiled brightly, as if her entire life was made up of unicorns and sunshine and drugs, "Of course, sweetie! It would be my pleasure."
unedited.
so huge thanks to my own stupid-ass brain for latching on to this hideous idea and actually fucking doing something with it- this is not going to end well for me, and I'm so excited oof. also a major shout-out to anyone still reading damon-related things, because yeah. I make literally no promises with this. talk to BuckyToHerSteve if you ever want me to do shit bc she bullies me into updating (plus she's currently writing a werewolf fanfic & Loki fanfic- not uploaded yet- that I'm completely in love with so check those out).