undergrounds | OTA; various locations and times

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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

There's no such thing as too much trouble. Embrace your new partner-in-crime, Heiji. We're going the distance.

"You know Nance?" Curious, he's about to start needling the fae for all the details on how they were acquainted, only to be pulled short by the question. "Well...you could say that."

Stiles pauses, deciding if he wants to share this information or not.

"There was a weird guy there. I've met him before, but... It was like he did a complete 180 in personality. I think he was a hunter."

"Hmm... well, I met a few weirdos there, myself. Was he kinda short, dark hair like it was cut by a kindergartener?"

Yes he was talking about Sasuke. No, he was not sorry about it.

"...Definitely not the same guy."

Though color him intrigued.

"You'd know right away if you'd met him—tall, gold eyes, has a random dyed streak of hair. He seemed chill at first, until he had some kind of psychotic break and threw me in a closet."

"Hmm... actually, I do think I ran into him. He seemed really crabby, so I just let him alone." Heiji paused.

"Oh yeah, he's fae, by the way. But I don't know what his story is. He felt weird."

"Fae!?"

Between the eyes, the sharpened canines, and the way he'd growled...Stiles had instinctively assumed werewolf. Thrown off, he reevaluates his assessment of Will.

"He said the world would be better off without your kind, and got really pissed when I asked if he was a witch. Guy has some serious issues going on."

"Seriously? That's so rude." And, in Heiji's opinion, completely unwarranted. Then again, there were humans who thought the world would be better off without humankind.

He looked thoughtful. "I wonder if he's one of them outcast fae..."

Stiles folds his arms over his chest, head tilted to the side inquisitively.

“That sounds kinda self-explanatory but I’ll bite—what’s an outcast fae?”

Get ready to have some knowledge dropped on you Stiles, I hope you like textwalls.

"Well... you know how fae belong to courts, right? There's the Seelie court, which I belong to, and the Unseelie court, its opposite. All the fae here are part of either one of the courts, and they gotta present themselves as such. Except the outcasts."

He crossed his arms. "Outcast fae are for one reason or other thrown out. That means they don't have any rank, and they can't live in Faery any more. They gotta live in this world, and they're also weakened. It's kinda like bein' excommunicated. I don't know what that fella did to get tossed out, though -- you'd have to get that from him, probably. But in any case, outcasts tend to pose as somethin' they're not to fit in better. Like metahumans."

Do the textwalls come with colored pictures, at least.

“Whoa. Harsh punishment.” And also really kind of cool. “What are fae thrown out for? We talking like, hardcore criminals here or is it sometimes used for like, petty mistakes?”

Well, I mean. They did if you were in Detective Conan?

"It depends on the court, really. In the old days, sometimes fae would get thrown out for getting too close with a human, depending on their rank. In general, it's best to avoid pissing off the King and Queen of your court. And of course any sort of insurrection... well, the point is, you wanna try and avoid getting tossed out if ya can."

“Huh.”

Seems strange to him that the fae would have such stringent punishments for mingling too closely with humankind. After all, wasn’t that supposed to be what fairies did in their free time? Interfere with human lives and make everyone miserable? Or maybe Heiji is talking about a different kind of closeness. Ah…that’d probably make more sense.

“But your family didn’t try to get you thrown out,” he points out suddenly. “That’s good, right?”

"Wh -- " Heiji took a moment or two to turn bright red.

"Wh-what are you sayin'? I didn't get that close! Besides, I'm too young to settle down!" Clearly Stiles just needed to stop impugning his character with these terrible insinuations. He was only 200 years old and that was WAY TOO YOUNG TO GET MARRIED. Leave him alone, mom.

It takes Stiles a moment to catch up with the jump Heiji has made, and when he does, he doesn’t try to correct the other boy. Sure, this may not be what he meant, but there’s no way in hell he’s going to waste a beautiful opportunity like this to tease Heiji.

“So you did get close though, right? You going to have little fox babies with her?”

The response was immediate.

"It's not like that! Nothing happened!" He was too young to know any better, shut up.

"Anyhow, that wouldn't happen. When a fox and a human get together, any kids almost always turn out human. Like Seimei." Oh, wait. Stiles might not know who that was. "A metahuman, basically."

Sorry, Heiji, there’s no way you can escape so easily. Seeing the normally cool, calm, and collected young man get so flustered is awesome.

“When a fox…and a human…? Dude, whoa. Too much information. I’m not sure what kinky stuff you’re into, but that’s TMI.”

"It's not kinky, you just stay in human form! It works fine, I done it before." Although it hadn't really occurred to Heiji that there might be other... possibilities? But that would be weird. How would that even work.

Shut up Stiles, you're banned.

"He's done it before, ladies and gentlemen!" he declares loudly, earning them a few curious looks from passerby. "That's good to know, I guess. But it'd be pretty funny if you sprouted a tail or two while doing the do."

In an annoyed attempt to get Stiles to stop being loud, Heiji grabbed a handful of shirt with his left hand and the back of Stiles's head with his right. Then he pulled Stiles closer and kissed him.

Heiji was right about one thing; he was pretty experienced, and he wasn't particularly holding back, either. Not that Heiji ever really did anything halfassed.

Alas, the expertise of the kiss is sadly lost upon someone like Stiles, who has never kissed anyone in his seventeen years of life. It also doesn’t help that he’s so shocked that he just stands there going cross-eyed from trying to stare at Heiji the whole time, eyes round as saucers and mouth utterly slack. This could be the best or worst kiss ever, and it would have had the same effect on him. He doesn’t discourage the kiss, but he doesn’t exactly participate either—his brain has short-circuited and is simply spawning seemingly random mental images at him: breasts, yield sign, a little fox, coach demonstrating the correct way to apply a condom, etc.

Heiji released him, looking rather satisfied with himself. "See? No tails."

That was the important thing here, he had no idea this had been Stiles's first kiss. I mean Stiles was a full-grown human, right. He'd probably kissed tons of ladies. Pro... bably...

P.S. Close your mouth before something flew into it, Stiles.

Edited 2015-07-02 21:56 (UTC)

Once it dawns on him that he’s no longer being kissed—and it does take a few moments to register—Stiles’ facial features are rearranged into a very particular expression. It’s the type of expression that desperately wants to appear casual and indifferent, but is offset by blatantly nonplussed surprise. At this rate, he’ll catch more than just flies with his apparently unhinged jaw.

“Wh-what?”

Right, they were talking about tails. Or something? Still reeling, Stiles glances over his own shoulder to stare blankly at his backside. No tails. Except it was never a question of whether or not he would grow tails—he’s very confused right now, okay.

Why was Stiles staring at his butt, though...

In any case, this wasn't the reaction Heiji was used to receiving. Which sort of made him wonder: "Hey, you... you been kissed before, right? That wasn't your first time?"

Surely not. Stiles was kind of goofy, but he was also intelligent and loyal. He had to have made out with someone. His best friend, maybe, or a cute girl at school. Anyone.

“Huh?”

Once he understands what he’s being asked, he laughs; it’s a forced, awkward laugh, almost hysteric in its need to be believed.

“Pffft! Y-yeah, dude. Of course. Totally. Tons of times. So many times.”

Stiles is an awful liar.

Uh oh. He needed to make this up to Stiles somehow. But how? First kisses were like... here now, gone tomorrow. Forever. And Stiles had seemed so out of it that he probably hadn't even enjoyed it all that much.

Should he say something about it? Offer to set Stiles up? Maybe he should just play along?

"O-oh, yeah. I mean. Your technique was really... I could tell how experienced you were!" That was not technically a lie. It had been a little like kissing a labrador retriever.

“Oh my god, dude, you’re killing me.”

With a groan, he starts walking along the park path once more. Clearly he expects Heiji to join him.

“Okay, yes, you don’t have to peer pressure me into telling you, that was my first!”

There was absolutely no peer pressure, Stiles is just having a moment of teenage melodramatics.

“And you know what. That’s cool. That’s fine. Who cares, right? I’m only seventeen! I’ve got my whole life ahead of me. There’s no reason I should be ashamed.”

Someone is in denial.

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