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Mɪᴇᴄᴢʏsᴌᴀᴡ "Sᴛɪʟᴇs" Sᴛɪʟɪɴsᴋɪ ([personal profile] mensrea) wrote in [community profile] undergrounds2015-07-29 06:25 pm

OTA; various locations and times

A) You know when you’re drowning you don’t actually inhale until right before you black out.
There is a bear. There is a bear chasing a screeching human boy. There is a bear chasing a screeching human boy who is hurtling toward you at Mach 5. This is happening. This is actually happening. 2AM in London is a strange time.
B) It’s like no matter how much you’re freaking out, the instinct to not let any water in is so strong that you won’t open your mouth until you feel like your head’s exploding.
( PRE August 8 )

Located in downtown Sutton, there is a string of terraced properties. One of said properties happens to belong to Stiles’ grandparents, both of whom immigrated from Poland decades ago. This is where the American teen has been staying for the past three months, though the trip is due to end in only a few days. Soon, he’s expected to return home to Beacon Hills, to high school and feigned normalcy and the only friend he ever knew before London.

The hour is late. Stiles sits in an open windowsill of his makeshift, temporary attic bedroom. There’s a lacrosse ball in his hand, which he tosses up and down while gazing sightlessly up at the sky. Maybe he drops the ball, only for it to roll over to you on the sidewalk or street. Maybe you know him personally and decide to call up to Stiles. Maybe a print-out of his flight itinerary flutters to the ground. Maybe the window is empty yet open, and you pay him a visit by climbing the nearby tree.

He could probably use the company tonight.
C) Then when you finally do let it in, that’s when it stops hurting.
( POST August 9 )

The days blur by after August 9th for Stiles. Sherriff Stilinski is beyond furious that his underage son refuses to return home, and has threatened to get a court order. In response, Stiles has threatened to vanish without further contact. Shockingly, this did not instill his dad with the confidence that Stiles is mature enough to live alone in a foreign country. But the damage has been done; as a dual citizen of the United States and Poland, Stiles has all the rights in the United Kingdom of an EEA resident. Unless his health or safety is compromised, there’s little the Sheriff can do. During a somber Skype call, Scott told him that the Sheriff even contacted Rafael—Scott’s absentee father in the FBI. Stiles is worried, is sick to his stomach at the thought of how much this must hurt his dad, of how emotionally taxing the ordeal must be for the overworked man. If anything happened to the Sheriff because of this…

Diligently he researches the steps for settling in the country for the long term, pays an extraordinary amount of money he doesn’t have to submit forms and paperwork. Fortunately, he qualifies to reside in the EU for an extended period because he’s working for Apollo. Small mercies.

Stiles can be found in libraries, police stations, governmental buildings, and cafés. You’ll likely find him poring over documents, scrambling to fill them out and organize them in cheap, manila folders.
D) It’s not scary anymore, it’s… it’s actually kind of peaceful.
( POST August 12 )

Spring heralded the arrival of Stiles Stilinski in London. Then, he had expected to remain in the United Kingdom only through summer before returning to California for his senior year of high school. Now, he has made concrete plans to settle here in the Underground by becoming a member of the East End Pack and eschewing a high school diploma. The decision to stay had not come easily—and the cost of that decision will likely haunt him for years to come. But Stiles is determined to put aside his dread and doubt. Dogs can smell fear, after all.

And Stiles is currently walking seven of them. Dogs, that is. Honestly, it’s more like they’re walking him.

See, the thing is…werewolves? Not particularly quick to put their trust in some skinny, fidgety human who dared break into their den. Derek may have brought him into the fold, but Stiles knows it’ll take more than an alpha’s word to soothe the pack’s ruffled feathers—er, fur. Gaining respect in East End, however, has proven troublesome. No one is willing to bring him along for territory patrols because he’s such a liability. In fact, no one is willing to give him any responsibility at all because he’s such a liability. It totally sucks, though he supposes he can understand the reasoning. Still, he’ll need to integrate somehow. What better way is there to worm into someone’s heart than to help take care of their dog?

Abbott Mill has many dogs. Like, a stupid amount of dogs. Since werewolves have a natural affinity and influence over canines, they make excellent guardians of pack territory. The choice breeds are fairly predictable: German Shepherd, Rottweiler, Doberman Pinscher, Great Dane, Tosa… There’s even a breed that’s illegal in the country without a license, which is tucked in the back of Stiles’ pocket. Of all these large and powerful breeds, it is unsurprisingly the tiniest dog that poses the most problems—a goddamn Shih Tzu, the beloved pet of East End Pack’s biggest, burliest member. This dog was sent to Earth from the bowels of hell itself, born with a mission to personally drive Stiles to insanity. He thinks it’s some kind of Napoleon complex, really. Or maybe it’s the name. Boo-boo, the Shih Tzu in question, turns to look at him with black, beady eyes as if aware of his thoughts. Then the dog lifts a leg and pees on an old woman’s foot. All while staring at him.

You can find Stiles “walking” these dogs in any of London’s eastern boroughs. The dogs have as much respect for the human as their owners do, which is to say they’re yanking him along like he’s a flesh-and-blood toy slinky. If you’re a vampire, you may want to keep your distance. These hounds can easily tear their leashes out of Stiles’ hands if they catch a whiff of the undead.
( If you prefer brackets over prose, I’ll follow suit! PM me if you’d like to plot out a specific starter for your character! c: )
rules_winter: (search)


[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-07-30 04:18 am (UTC)(link)
Mab had been making her way southward through Newham on her way to Lewisham. It was better to open the gate in a fae or wolf territory than try it in the others. Less bother overall. So she was making her way down the street, heels clicking like metronomes on the sidewalk when the dogwalker came around a corner.

Dogs can be unpredictable with fae. They have an innate sense of danger and some of them started quivering and growling low in their bellies. But others sensed something far more dominant than they and there was some whining and ducking of heads. The little one didn't seem to have the same sense of self preservation the others had though because he was still cockily looking back at Stiles and trotting around peeing on things.

Mab paused, her steps stopping for the moment as she stared down at the little dog coming her way, ballsy as you please not even paying attention to what he was marking. There are some things you don't even pretend you're going to pee on. Mab was one of them. The Shih Tzu had long white hair like hers but caught up in one of those little barrettes on it's head. Mab watched it approach, the walker clearly out of his element and snapped her fingers once. Her voice cracked like ice. "Sit." Anyone who could remotely feel power would have felt it roll out of Mab at that point as every dog on a leash and one down the road sat.

It was better than freezing the little brat solid. Probably. Less fulfilling though. The Shih Tzu sat but it quivered for a moment and let out a tiny yip of defiance that Mab quelled with a glare. After she was convinced the dog was going to behave she looked up at the walker, finally.
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[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-07-31 04:22 am (UTC)(link)
The human had sat with the dogs. One had to wonder what that said about Stiles. Mab did not actually seem particularly surprised. "It would be wise to be both, I think." Mab replied, watching the young man as the worried Mastiff nuzzled closer to Stiles apparently deciding that for all the lack of respect earlier, perhaps he was better than this overbearing woman who might decide to display her dominance with her teeth.

"Confidence and authority are skills that are earned." She replied, voice silky now, almost amused. She walks by the little Shih Tzu and stops next to Stiles, legs bare to about four inches above the knee where her suit-skirt starts. And that's about all that's in his view if he keeps staring at her shoes like that. "What would you do for me in return?"
rules_winter: (buisness casual)

[personal profile] rules_winter 2015-08-01 05:32 am (UTC)(link)
The young man's brain is working overtime from what she can see. He comes out finally with ... 'uh' which is an impressive lack of response and Mab waits for him to finish even as a Rottweiler rolls onto it's back next to her showing it's throat and belly in submission.

Her hand moves marginally and she lifts it after a moment to offer it to the teenager, fingers just as pale and tipped with polish that matched her eyes in a disconcerting way. "That hardly seems like an equal trade." Her reply comes out wonderingly and she decides the compliment means she will forgive him the almost insulting exchange suggestion. She's so magnanimous.