undergrounds | do you fly in the day, darling

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do you fly in the day, darling

[A June catch-all! Pick an option and say hello, or start something more specific in the comments. Hit me up on plurk if you want a specific starter!]

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A Just another Saturday night out, Nancy's lips painted blood red and staining the side of her low-ball glass. Her legs are crossed at the ankles, black pumps and fishnets on full display under her short leather skirt. It's a night out, another night working. People around here knew who she was, what she offered. It was easier in supernatural bars, Nancy knew, to find vampires looking for a feeding, or even just a john wanting some company.

She props an elbow up on the bar, and looks down the the way, eyes peeled for any familiar, or unfamiliar, face. She'll just try not to think about how great it would be to be watching Netflix right now instead of work.

B Do you believe in fate, baby, ask me, ask me, the music played in her earbuds as Nancy jogged in place at a cross-walk. Trainers on her feet and hair pulled up in a pony-tail, she was doing her usual exercise routine. Always good to be fast on your feet, she'd learned as a child, and running was a great way to keep that up. Even if she had ways to get away, her feet were still just as important.

Besides, there was something relaxing about running, she'd found. She could shove the world away and concentrate on the music and running and the city. She'd found her way down to the Thames, and was running on the paths near it, past youths with skateboards and graffiti'd walls, business men grabbing a bite to eat right outside the Globe. It was astounding the way the culture and history blended together so seamlessly. She'd never get over that.

The light turned green, and on she ran.

C Choose your own! Private starters in the comments.

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"...Maybe later."

Sniffing the air around the pipe (not unlike the werewolf he definitely is not), he takes a grudging step away and returns his attention to Nancy. As if only just remembering its presence, he takes another sip from the beer.

"Did you make it yourself? Do you have some kind of...canway lab set up in your bathroom?"

"No," she says with a shake of her head. "Bathroom's clear. Fagin's the one that deals it." She just helped sell it.

Fagin. That name again. Stiles almost starts to pry about her foster father, then recalls what she'd said in regards to her personal life. Awkward, he rubs the nape of his neck and drops it.

"So..."

He has no idea what the hell to say.

Nancy, for her part, shakes her head and laughs, breaking the silence between the two of them before it got too bad.

"So. I was hoping, maybe, I could hear your side of what happened." With Derek, she meant.

Sorry, Nancy. Trying to talk about feelings with Stiles is like trying to pull teeth. He wheels away both physically and mentally, aimlessly wandering through the apartment as if seeing it for the first time.

"Aw, and here I thought you invited me over because you like me."

"Oh, come on!" She sighed exasperatedly, coming around the corner towards him. "Of course I like you, I adore you." To prove it, she slung her arm around his shoulder. "That wasn't why I invited you over. I was just hoping- but, it's all right. I promise." Again, she hated to promise, but this, she really could.

The arm slinging is kind of weird, because it's something he'd do (and does, frequently) with Scott. Except their best bros. Shit, is he being friendzoned? He'll have to get to the bottom of this later, because after Lydia, he can't stand the idea of spending summer hoping for another girl to return his feelings.

"There's not really anything to say," he replies flippantly, clinking his beer bottle against hers. "He roughed me up a bit a few weeks ago and refused to explain much of anything. I'm not exactly his biggest fan."

Silly Stiles. The friendzone doesn't exist.

"Fair enough," she says. "You're completely within your right to dislike him, and I don't blame you." Seriously. She wouldn't be a fan of him either if he'd done that to her. She'd get Derek's side, and that would be that. Everyone could be friends. Because she wanted Stiles to be able to hang out with her and Kenzi and if this thing with Derek became a bigger thing, she wanted to know him, too.

She was probably getting ahead of herself.

"I'm sorry that happened. Are you alright?" And she genuinely meant it, not patronizing or anything.

The friendzone definitely does not exist, except in the minds of idiot boys such as Stiles.

"Yeah. I'm fine." But it's a casual dismissal, a reassurance he would have given even if he wasn't fine. "It just pissed me off. Like, a lot. Sorry for making you worry, Nance."

"you CAN say if it's not fine. I can take it, and I can do what I can to help." she, beer in hand, lead him over towards the couch. Juliet looked at them vaguely interested, before returning to her nap.

"I promise." again, with the promising.

"now sit, and drink. it's required." she pats the seat next to her. "we can watch Netflix too if you want."

Obediently, he sits down on the couch (with a nod of acknowledgment in the direction of Juliet) and then takes a long swallow from the beer. As nice as her support is, it is very unlikely he would even tell Scott how much Derek has gotten to him. Deflection is much, much more comfortable.

"How about 'Sabrina the Teenage Witch?'" he suggests with an impish grin.

Nancy looks at him wryly. "I prefer The Craft." she grinned devilishly, picking up her Xbox controller. she didn't really game, but some of the boys did. and Kenzi.

Well, you can't bring out the XBOX controller and not expect Stiles to comment. Straightening, he points at it and then at Nancy, as if unable to comprehend the fact that she is holding it.

"Do you...do you play video games?"

"not really," she confesses. "I've got a few games in the cupboard- the boys and Kenzi like to play. I'm miserable, if you wanna beat me up." she's down for it.

"Uhh, maybe co-op instead then," he offers, somewhat freaked out by the phrase of beating her up. "I can help you get better, so you can kick their asses. It'll be a really cool surprise."

It wasn't good phrasing. The 'up' just came out, and it didn't seem too odd to Nancy until further reflection.

"Sounds like a plan. Think you're up for the challenge?" She tossed him the second controller. She's Player One.

"The way you made it sound, it won't be much of a challenge at all."

And the fact is, Stiles is good at gaming. Like, unfairly so. He used to have the up on Scott all the time...until certain senses where enhanced in the werewolf teen. Damn cheater.

Stiles moves to the cupboard, pulling out the games.

"What do you want to play?"

"Of training me, I mean. So yes, it will be a tremendous one." She popped up to her knees on the couch, watching Stiles pull them out. Juliet decides now is a good time to wake up again and hops off towards the basket that contained the games. She liked noise.

"Anything- I had fun playing Borderlands with them once. After I figured out vaguely what was going on."

"Oh! Well, not with my tutelage."

Noticing Juliet, Stiles takes the whole basket out of the cupboard and shows it to her. Apparently, the kitty is going to choose what game they play.

"What do you think? Borderlands, Juliet?"

The cat stares up at him. He stares back. PICK A TITLE, CAT.

"Fair enough." She raises her bottle to the thought.

Juliet is just going to keep staring at Stiles for a moment, sniffing at him. After a moment, she trots over to him and walks in a circle around him, rubbing against him. She has now marked her territory on you, Stiles. You are hers. You smell like her, so you are hers. That's cat logic for you.

"At least Juliet likes you." She hated Derek. Threw a fit the last time Nancy had seen him. But. Werewolf. "But I don't think she cares. Oh- what's a good one? That pirate one, can you do that on multiplayer?" Pirates are awesome.

Cat logic is not unlike werewolf logic, so he accepts the scent marking with a bland look. Almost all his wardrobe reeks of Scott, after all. With a sigh of acceptance, he scratches beneath her chin indulgently.

"Assassin's Creed IV? Sure, why not. It has multiplayer."

So he gets the disc out and into the XBOX, then settles down next to Nancy. Juliet follows him, peering up at Nancy as if to say 'he's in my spot, owner.'

Juliet likes you a lot now, Stiles. Congrats. If you sleep over, you're gonna get cat butt in your face in the morning.

"Great, thanks," she says smiling softly at him. She spares a glance at Juliet, raising an eyebrow at the cat. The cat simply flicks her tail and moves to Stiles' side of the couch. He's better than Nancy right now. "You'll get over it," she told Juliet, before turning to Stiles.

"Alright. So, while this thing loads up- how've you been enjoying London so far? Supernatural aside."

And that's what he likes about Nancy. Maybe it's due to having grown up taking care of other boys all her life, but there is something particularly maternal about the young woman. He appreciates that, even if he's stupid and doesn't know how to verbalize the sentiment.

"It's...okay? I mean, it's different. Way different. Beacon Hills is so small in comparison, you know? I miss it."

The trip to the UK hadn't been his idea; if he'd had his way, he wouldn't have ever come.

"I've got not idea what it was like in a smaller town. I've lived here my whole life." Well. Maybe. Her mother may have been from somewhere else originally.

"But I bet you do. Your friend, Scott," she remembered his name. "Your parents." She would have missed hers. If she'd ever known them.

He's pleased that she remembers Scott's name, though the expression dims slightly as she continues. It's been long enough since his mother's death that his mood doesn't totally tank, but his tone is a little too light when he responds.

"Parent. Just me and my dad. Like you. Kinda. My old man so isn't a fairy. Fae."

Needing to keep his hands busy once again, he reaches down to scoop Juliet up into his arms.

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