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: )

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"An interesting choice of reading material," Balem said, pulling up a chair across the table. Tucked underneath his arm was a large book on astrophysics.

Of course, Stiles could just be a student researching for a thesis or something of that sort, but it wasn't common to see someone so interested in mythology these days.

Stiles could be a student, except the desperate, frantic manner in which he fumbles the book suggests guilt or fear of discovery. In fact, he’s so startled by the stranger’s interest that he nearly knocks his own chair over. Nervous energy rolls off him in waves.

“Pffft, no?”

Okay, as far as convincing responses go, that one sucked. Hardcore. Also, what is up with this guy? He’s like, weirdly pretty. Not even in a model-handsome way that Jackson could be, if he weren’t such an asshole. This man is almost ethereal.

“Though okay, maybe it is in comparison,” he continues, with a pointed look at Balem’s book. SHOTS FIRED, and Stiles wasn’t even trying to be a little shit.

"Not interested in physics?" Balem said, flipping through his book, "I suppose this one is a little dry, if you're new to the topic. No pictures."

Balem smiles; Stiles' nervous mannerisms aren't lost on him. There may be something up here.

"And pardon my interruption, I simply don't see too many people interested in mythology anymore. Are you a student, or just personally interested?"

“That’s too bad. Pictures are the best part,” Stiles remarks woodenly, uncertain of whether or not the stranger had been taking a shot at his intelligence. Fidgeting in his seat, he considers the inquiry for a moment.

“And yeah. Yes. A student. Absolutely. That’s me.”

He shuts his notebook; the gesture is anything but subtle.

“I’m writing a report. In a class I’m failing. Figured I’d check out what the library has to offer.”

Too bad humans could lie. This one didn't seem like a very good liar, but it was also possible that he was telling the truth and just nervous in general.

"What class, if I may ask? It seems interesting. I'm studying Astronomy, if it wasn't obvious," he said. And he was studying astronomy, he had been his whole life, he just wasn't actually a student anywhere.

Well, Balem certainly isn’t wrong; Stiles is a terrible liar, except for when it really matters.

“Astronomy. Cool. Very cool.”

And it is cool! Sort of. Stiles is interested in the universe from a layman’s perspective. The usual things that would interest a teenage boy—black holes, supernovas, distant galaxies. Unfortunately, the technical matter would put him to sleep in minutes.

“As for me…” Right. What about him. “The class is Literature. I suck at it. Never do the readings. Bad student.”

Sure. Mythology and literature go hand-in-hand. It’s better than saying Economics, which had been his first thought.

"Whatcha studying specifically?"

"Right now? Just looking through this book to see if there's anything I don't know yet. It only came out a few months ago," he said, apparently his goal was to look like the nerdiest student on the planet who readily perused 6th editions of textbooks for the one paragraph that had changed from the 5th.

"And you'd better study hard, then. You wouldn't want to have to repeat the class."

Brow furrowed incredulously, Stiles glances between the book and the stranger multiple times. Is the guy implying he’s so well read and educated on the subject that the text might not offer him any new content…? Seems pretty conceited, in Stiles’ biased opinion. He tilts his head to the side so he can read the book’s title more clearly, filing it away for future investigation. Distracted, he nearly doesn’t register the suggestion.

“Oh, yeah,” he says flippantly. “That’d suck. Are you a professor?”

Well, Stiles certainly doesn’t beat around the bush. How’s that for a subtle non sequitur.

"No, not a professor, although I could be by now I'm sure," he said, vain as always, "Merely an enthusiast. And I'm quite fond of that little topic you're looking up, as well."

Wow, yeah, this guy is absolutely a blowhard. Stiles thinks that’s kind of funny, seeing how—of all subjects—it’s about astronomy. Like, wouldn’t you rather brag about your knowledge of something more impressive or useful? Trying unsuccessfully to conceal a grin, he glances down at the book the stranger is indicating.

“Weird combo. Planets and mythology? If you married the two, would that make you an Alien Sciences expert?”

This little shit is totally trying to make fun of you, Balem. Look at how funny he thinks he is.

"Aliens? No, I'm afraid I don't know anything about those," he said. They may very well exist, but if they do the stars haven't bothered to tell him.

"And it's quite a useful combination, actually. Although I wouldn't expect most people to be aware of that," he said, because he could tell that he was being made fun of so he might as well be a pompous jerk in return.

“We plebians don’t get out much,” he remarks airily, leaning back in his seat so that the chair balances on its back legs. “Why is it so useful?”

"Those books of yours are more applicable to the real world than you may think," he said. He wouldn't be too specific, but he liked to toy with humans.

Well, that sounded vaguely suggestive. Stiles starts to lean across the table toward Balem, all conspiratorially, then seems to remember himself. The guy’s remark could mean anything. No need to read into it.

“What, like as parables and stuff?”

"I suppose," he said, leaning in as well, "But it runs deeper than universally applicable lessons."

He sat up straight again, looking away, "But oh, I suppose I'd seem a bit strange if I went into it."

Goddammit. Balem has Stiles captivated now. It’s really that easy. Dragging his chair closer, he leans back over the table again and plants his elbows on the surface.

“No, what? Dude, I love strange. Let me hear it.”

"Oh, but knowledge can be such a burden, and you're already neglecting your studies..." he said, tone implying his doubt that this English class actually exists.

Exhaling heavily through his nose, Stiles gives Balem a look.

“Share the burden,” he suggests in exasperation. “Who knows? It’ll probably inspire me to study harder.”

"A lot of what you read about in those books is, frankly, nonsense. Generally anything that has a heavy-handed moral lesson attached is made-up, because life doesn't really work that way," he said, helping himself to one of the books Stiles had been going through and flipping through it, "But some of it is true."

Stiles is now kneeling on his chair, purely so he can partially lie across the table and peer at the pages Balem pauses on. If he were a dog, no doubt he'd be drooling from eagerness to hear more.

"Some of it? Like what?"

"Well, let's see," he said, continuing to flip through the book before stopping at one page, "Ah, here we go."

He tapped one long fingernail against an illustration of some pixies.

"Real as you and I, just good at hiding. They're very small, you see."

Either this guy is totally off his rocker or right on the money. It’s hard to tell. But, unable to help himself, Stiles responds to the explanation tellingly. A wide, shit-eating grin spreads across his face. There’s nothing mocking about it—if anything, it has a smug nuance to it. After all, he knows from firsthand experience that pixies are indeed the real deal.

“Yeah,” he agrees easily, nodding. “And they like gifts.”

"We all like gifts," he said, and by 'we' he meant 'fae', but he supposed he could be referring to everyone.

But really, give the fae more gifts. Please.

"Ahem, what I mean to say is," he said, "So you do know. I suspected as much. No skilled college slacker would be reading more than the bare minimum amount of books."

Inordinately pleased that it was so obvious he's in the loop (which really should be more worrying than anything), he beams with pride at the alleged fae.

"High school," he corrects absently, settling back in his chair properly. "But yeah, I'm not really studying so much as researching. I visited the...other place recently, and wanted to learn more about it."

"I didn't think High School students even used libraries anymore, what with...Google, and Wikipedia," he said. He may be old, but he at least tried to keep up with modern technology.

"Ah, yes. I remember you, now. The young winner. It is quite a privilege for a human to visit the Other Realm," he said, even though that privilege often ended badly.

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mensrea - 2015-08-01 04:43 (UTC) - Expand

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