I'm pickin up good vibrations (OPEN)

[whatmatters]

It was a fairly bright night, the full moon of the second waning at a slow pace and the remaining glow casting about the city streets. All things considered, it was a fairly pleasant evening and the sounds of late night pub activities wafted through the air as if to pointedly suggest that nothing was amiss. Ringer didn't believe in that false serenity and the sight a couple strolling arm-in-arm somewhere down the road annoyed her a little. It was that ignorance that she was trying to protect. Still, she couldn't help the slight envy at having her own normality stripped away from her years ago.

She wandered Lewisham and Greenwich mainly, knowing the areas were hot spots for activity and wanting to stretch her muscles. There were silver bullets in the magazine of her Sig Sauer, tucked safely away in its shoulder holster beneath her jacket. There were a couple wooden bolts in her back pocket, a knife in her combat boots, and a roll of gauze in the inside pocket of her coat. She liked to be prepared.

A.

Ringer was distracted by the soft glow of a lantern outside a picturesque home as she rounded onto the next street, nearly - or literally - running smack into whoever might be coming the other way. She immediately withdrew and scrambled to regain her bearings, offering an apologetic expression in the hopes it might be some simple Londoner who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention. Are you okay?"

B.

There was a noise not far away, the next street over, and Ringer wasted no time in seeking it out. Perhaps it was simply a cat jumping on a trash can, but it was as likely some asshole monster causing trouble. Or maybe that was wishful thinking. Whatever the case, she drew her 9mmm and held it down at her side, mostly concealing it to the casual observer as she came up on the area. One wrong move and the source of the noise might find the barrel facing in their direction.

C.

[Anything else! Feel free to write a prompt or message me with ideas.]

Comments

[whatmatters]

"That's normally the part where you say your name," she replies as she withdraws her hand and steps back into her own personal space again.

Ringer, herself, is only nineteen, but she grew up in a private school in Oxford where manners and propriety reigned supreme. It became second nature to her, much like apologizing more than necessary. At his response, the corners of her lips fall into something that might be a frown.

"Maybe." She's disappointed by his oblivious reply, though her belief that he might not be supernatural allows her to focus on the guy as a human being instead. He's not bad looking, a bit goofy, with a strange affinity for lacrosse apparently. Interesting, if nothing else. "It looks like you have it under control, whatever it is."

omfg i totally forgot she introduced herself SORRY FOR THE RE-TAG

[mensrea]

“Only if you promise not to laugh,” he says, rocking back on his heels as he appraises her in the artificial light.

Stiles smiles faintly, a small teasing thing, and tries not to read too much into the downward curl of her mouth. Not even five minutes into meeting this person, and he’s already disappointing them. Story of his life.

“Just call me Stiles. The Under Control guy. That’s me.”

rofl NO WORRIES

[whatmatters]

"Stiles," she echoes. It's obviously a nickname, like her own name, and she can't help but wonder where it came from. It seems too friendly a question to ask and, anyway, she should be investigating that noise if he's not going to. Ideally alone, not wanting to encourage anyone into danger. Ringer runs a hand through her hair, the disappointment already forgotten. "Maybe I'll see you around."

[mensrea]

"Yeah, maybe." The agreement is amiable, but also distracted. "See ya, Ringer."

Except he doesn't move. He's still standing there, lacrosse stick in hand, waiting expectantly for her to leave so he can check out the shapeshifter that had been lurking nearby.

[whatmatters]

Ringer also doesn't move, half expecting him to have turned and left immediately. There's some semblance of normalcy that she almost longs for in their interaction, despite how bad she is at normal. But she has no reasons to linger and, if he's going to stay, she can stay true to her word and leave him to whatever noise it was. It doesn't really seem like it was something supernatural anyway.

"..Okay." She pivots around on the balls of her feet and begins walking away as easily as that, back the way she came, not really sure what else there is to say.