OTA; various locations and times

[mensrea]

A) One’s An Incident

“—listen to me!”

Somewhere near you, whether it’s at the park or on the sidewalk or in the café or riding the tube, there is a young man engaged in a heated conversation. The identity of the person he’s arguing with may not be readily obvious to those without supernatural hearing; the discussion is taking place over the phone. Should you attempt to tune Stiles out, it’ll quickly prove fruitless. His voice rises in volume the longer he’s on the call.

“I’m telling you, it’s fine. …No! I’m not sending you a picture of it. There’s nothing to see! …No. …No. It was just an accident, okay!?”

Distractedly, Stiles turns in your direction. There is an ugly, swollen bruise taking up half his face, clearly the work of someone’s fist. You may be able to infer that this is what the fight is about.

“—oh my god, don’t. You were the one who shipped me off here. You don’t get to pull that card on me, not now. …Dad. …Dad. Would you— …Would you just TRUST me for once!?”

Whatever his father responds with, it elicits an immediate reaction from Stiles. Expression twisting miserably, he seems to lose all energy for continuing the exchange. His voice is wooden, weary.

“Fine. I gotta go. …Yeah, I will. …Alright. Love you too.”

The call ends. Maybe you make eye contact with Stiles awkwardly. Maybe you decide to talk to him. Maybe you try to pretend you hadn’t overheard.

“Sorry about that,” he says to you, light and cheery. His smile is tight. “You know how it is. My old man always has to get his say in.”

B) Two’s A Coincidence

If you venture to the library, you’ll likely find Stiles buried nose-deep in an oversized tome. He’s piled high a wall of literature around him, to the point where it might be difficult to see him from the front. The titles of the books? All on mythology and mythical creatures. On occasion, a particularly interesting passage has him muttering under his breath and jotting down a few notes in his journal. Feel free to pull up a chair and harass him; he could use a break.

C) Three’s A Pattern

Guess who just drove his shitty used bicycle into you or your vehicle? This guy. Eyes wide, he hastily stammers out an apology, then loses his balance. Both bike and boy crash to the ground in a mess of whizzing gears and muffled groans. Maybe he took you down with him.

D) Four’s A Warrant

Night in London isn’t kind to humans—not that that’s ever stopped Stiles from exploring the city at inappropriate hours. However, there’s something different about the young man tonight as he wanders the streets aimlessly. For one, he’s clad only in a pair of loose-fitting sweatpants and a long-sleeve shirt with no shoes in sight. He doesn’t even have his trusty lacrosse stick on him! If you get close, you’ll see the unfocused, glassy fog to his eyes. Hopefully your intentions are well-meaning. Or maybe you’re looking for an easy snack. Either way, Stiles doesn’t seem to be in a position to argue.

( 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: )

Comments

[megidoomed]

[ Wait, did she just

She might be a little bit grateful that Stiles can't see ghosts, because this one might've just realized what "nice face" sounds like and is currently dying of embarrassment. Again.

'Its. I mean you're being kind and you didn't have to be.' Note to future-Aradia: think about sentence structure more, love past-Aradia. 'The sexts thing still stands. With proof.' ]

[mensrea]

Wow, uh.

[ There goes his self-esteem and dignity, right down the drain with his dreams. Not even a dead girl finds him attractive. Growing up is hard and no one understands. ]

I’ll just…sob that one out into my diary later tonight. Awkward. Let’s move on.

[ A little spitefully, he kills one of the candle flames with his fingers. It hurts. He probably looks even lamer now, as he shakes out his hand and whines. ]

Is there anything you want to ask?

[megidoomed]

[ 'Wait. I didn't mean' and the planchette clicks awkwardly down, Aradia struggling to work out how to repair the sudden hole her lack of tact just made in the conversation. This is why she's happier being an emotionless, friendless, corpse girl. That way she doesn't have to worry about hurting people's feelings. Why is talking so hard.

'I was trying to be silly. I'm sorry.' The message might be a little slurred from how fast she's trying to flick through letters, though she's not even sure if he's looking at the board anymore. Crap. 'If it helps the opinion of a ghost doesn't count for much. We're pretty boring after a while. And I didn't look at your phone.' ]

[mensrea]

[ The noise of plastic on wood has him hurriedly tilting the remaining candle toward the board. It’s difficult to make out what she’s saying—the lighting is awful now and she’s manipulating the planchette with urgently—but he gets the gist of it. ]

It’s fine, don’t worry. [ Mouth quirked up in a self-deprecating grin, he shrugs. ] I’m just being overly dramatic. Don’t tell anyone I do that, though. It’ll be our secret. And dude, the opinion of a ghost totally counts, okay?

[megidoomed]

[ 'Your secret dramatics are safe with me. I promise.'

She's not entirely sold on things being fine, but Aradia's wary of accidentally being awful again so it goes more-or-less unremarked. It's easier to pretend it didn't happen. 'It doesn't count as much because I'm dead. And I'm okay with that.'

The planchette slides to a halt afterwards. It's hard to think of how to give him an out if he wants to leave - it'd be understandable, given how the conversation's shifted from nice to rude and back again, but it's important that she tries.

'But thank you. For being nice.' ]

[mensrea]

[ Stiles has hardly come to her haunt with the intention of being nice, so he’s left a little uncomfortable by the gratitude. If he were a better person, maybe he’d feel ashamed. But he fortunately decides not to dwell on regret for long; his curiosity has been sated for the time being, and he has investigation to carry out. ]

Don’t sweat it.

[ Thank god he withholds a follow-up about how she cant’ sweat anything. Blowing out the candles a final time, he squints in the dark. ]

Hey, I’m gonna keep these here. The board too. You can use it when you have guests.

[ And that way, he doesn’t have to keep lugging it over. ]

i'm really sorry for how long this reply took D:

[megidoomed]

[ With the candles dead, Aradia's not sure if he expects a reply - there's a message scratched across the board regardless ('I don't mind even if I don't really get visitors. It's nice to have something new around.') in case Stiles' hand is still on the planchette, but other then that she's clueless on how to proceed.

Even if he hadn't come here with noble intentions - which she'd suspected herself, though she's since downgraded the human to 'mostly harmless' - it's still oddly reassuring to talk to actual people. It's enough to warrant what little courtesy she has, and she tries one last go at the planchette before he leaves. 'Feel free to visit whenever. I promise I won't spook you as badly.' ]