undergrounds | OTA; various locations and times

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: )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Well, it's not everyday that some guy on a bike randomly crashes into your car while you're trying to merge back into the flow of traffic from a street parking spot. Clive's equally wide eyes meet with Stiles's until the boy and his bike go crashing into the ground. Letting out a long sigh and mumbling an "Oh boy" under his breath, Clive straightens out his car to prevent further collisions from happening and puts it in park so he can go check up on the boy.

And so the tiny driver who barely looks old enough to be driving in the first place steps out of his car and stands over Stiles, looking down at him with concern.

"Sir, are you all right?"

This has not been a good week. Stiles is tempted to remain on the ground forever until the car he hit runs him over and puts him out of his misery. Thoughtful, he eyes the tires of the car. Except that he’s abruptly reminded of that scene in The Temple of Doom where Indiana Jones’ foe is pulled into a machine and crushed to death. Wow, he so does not want to be a red stain on the pavement. Stomach churning, he scrambles to his feet just as the driver checks on him.

“Oh my god, I don’t want to be human-paste-roadkill—jeez, you’re small.”

Hello, Clive. Stiles is just fine.

Clive can't help but laugh a little at the response, even though he clearly took a jab at his height but whatever, he can let that slide. Just this once.

"Relax, no one's going to kill anyone here. Maybe." He's just teasing, of course. Though that bike probably won't last too much longer if it stays in the road like that, so Clive swiftly pulls it off to the side before another car comes along. His own car doesn't seem to have been damaged, so that's a relief.

When Clive turns back to Stiles, it's with an apologetic look. "Seriously, though, I'm so sorry - do you need me to take you to the hospital or anything?" Even though Stiles was technically the one who hit him, it probably wouldn't have happened if Clive had waited a little longer to pull out.

Clive is an anomaly. Clearly not to be trusted. Suspect by virtue of being too chill. Squinting uncertainly down at the young man, Stiles wonders why he's being apologized to. Maybe the guy hasn't realized it was totally Stiles' fault? But how? Stiles is fairly sure the car wasn't in motion the entire time... Whatever, he's not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"Nah, I'm fine."

Then he vomits from vertigo on Clive's shoes. Well, so much for fine.

"Are you su--" Clive doesn't even have time to finish that sentence before it happens. American teenage vomit all over his expensive leather shoes. Holy fucking shit. It may have even - yup, there's a little at the bottom of his pants, too. Great.

And that's all it takes for Clive's patience to take a nosedive. The smile on his face looks much more forced now, though he still manages to keep a mostly friendly tone.

"Thanks for turning your head away there. I really appreciate that." Hahahahaha... He takes Stiles's arm and starts gently leading him past the puddle of vomit to a clean section of the curb, prepared to dodge this time if he decides to have another episode.

"I think you need to sit down now."

You're so very welcome, Clive.

"Yeah okay, sure,” he agrees with a croak, sitting down heavily on the curb. God, his mouth tastes like garbage now. If only last night’s dinner had tasted as good coming up as it had going down. Turning his head (this time) to spit, he rubs at his forehead with a shirt sleeve. “Sorry. About the shoes.”

And he is. Kinda. Mostly, he’s internally bemoaning how gross and dizzy he feels. This is why you should wear a helmet when riding a bicycle, kids. Don’t be like Stiles.

Clive sits down next to Stiles and starts carefully removing his shoes, trying to make sure that the puke doesn't spread to anywhere else on his body. So gross...

He lets out a sigh. "It's fine. I'm mostly annoyed that I'm going to have to run back home to change when I'm already short on time." He's not all that concerned about buying replacements if he has to; Clive has more money than he knows what to do with anyway, but it'll probably be fine.

Fortunately, there's a cafe among the row of shops behind them, so they probably have the proper equipment to clean up this mess. With the puke-drenched shoes off now, Clive stands back up with only a pair of black socks covering his feet.

"I'm going to go see if the employees in that cafe over there can clean this up." He's sure he's going to get strange looks for walking in without shoes, but whatever, it's better than getting puke on their floor too. "I'll get you a bottle of water while I'm in there, so just stay put."

Leaning over his legs, Stiles rests his forehead against his knees and stares at the pavement below them. The dizziness has started to abate, though he’s now wallowing in the awful feeling that comes from your stomach emptying itself.

“You can borrow my shoes.” Except that there’s no way in hell the sneakers would be a comfortable or suitable fit. “But okay. Water sounds good. Thanks dude. I’ll just be here.”

OTA; various locations and times

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