Mask or Menace | MODERATORS (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
maskormods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
etcelsior2018-07-25 10:16 pm
maskormods) wrote in etcelsior2018-07-25 10:16 pm
Entry tags:
June's over? Julying.
T E S T D R I V E M E M E
Considering apping into MASK OR MENACE? Want to dip your toes into the setting and get a feel of whether your character will fit into it? Or maybe you're just cruising and want to play around? Then you've come to the right place!
Pick any of the following scenarios below or feel free to make up your own, but don't be afraid to throw yourself at someone else's thread, either!
And remember there's only one rule in Test Drive Meme Club: HAVE FUN ON THE TEST DRIVE MEME!01.The city of Heropa is what one might expect from a small, bright and cheery place, where locals are friendly enough and local shop owners might offer a free drink to welcome you to their fair city.
What a month, huh imPorts? Changing ages, mysterious shimmering explosions, and uncomfortable weather. The city of Heropa understands. That is why today the largest local water park is having an imPort appreciation day. The cost of entering is waved- so long as you’re willing to do a power display on the way in for the gathered crowds and kiddies. No explosions or mass destruction, folks, keep it family friendly and hopefully entertaining.
While it might be a drag to be treated a little like a circus freak to get in, the park itself is well worth it when it comes to cooling off and forgetting the horror happening elsewhere in the world. High-tech gadgets are here to improve experience. Water proof robot bar tenders wander around the many slides, floating rivers, and tanning areas (or swim around in the lounging pools) making free whatever you orders, alcoholic or virgin. They’re obedient to a fault, so if you want to waste their time by asking them to shake ice then pour it out fifteen times before putting the vodka in there, feel free. Only the people in line behind you will get annoyed. The robots themselves will just offer fun bar trivia and talk with the flair of a 1920s speakeasy bartender.
But of course it wouldn’t be a day for imPorts without a little bit of a weird twist. They’ve got to get the locals to pay top dollar to come watch everyone swim, after all. Some of those free drinks have an extra special free ingredient, one with random effects. Guess you should have read that size 1 font subsection on the ticketing booth that waives park liability. If you happen to be one of the lucky ones to receive a spiked drink, you’ll experience one of the following effects:
1)Hydrophilia – You couldn’t leave this pool even if you wanted to. Which you don’t. In fact, the idea of getting out of this pool is horrifying to you, who knows what could happen outside of these safe, watery depths? You’ll need to get others to bring you food and make some difficult bathroom choices, but for the next two hours even the threat of death would have trouble getting you out of the water.
2)Buddy system – When you took that final sip of drink your eyes fell on another person and you knew- just knew- that this was meant to be. At least for today. This person, whether you’ve ever met them before and whether they’re a human or an AI or a drink serving robot, is going to be your constant companion for as long as you’re in this water park. Whether they like (or know it) or not.
3)Razzle Dazzle – A purely physical effect. Your hair, skin, and even eyes start shifting colors. Some are more or less normal, bright, bright red hair for instance, while others are just out of this world. A shifting rainbow of Unicorn sparkle colored skin, bright yellow eyes, you name it. Anything you imagine, you could possibly be. At least for the next hour.
4) Safety First – The lamest of the effects, but it does make everything easier for the owner of the park. Rules are there for a reason, kids, no matter how nitpicky they may be. And by America, you are going to make sure everyone is following the rules. No running, no flip flops in the pool, no swimming within half an hour of eating, even some special individual rules that only you would think of must be enforced.
02. De Chima, Virginia, is a large city with a healthy economy, with large numbers of citizens waiting to be awed by your very presence. Look at you! Organic wonder! Synthetic wonder! Whatever you might be, those words have meaning here. Science and technology are the lifeblood of this city, so you're likely to come across a good many locals taking your picture with the newest of devices or recently published PLoS papers. The imPort craze remains high here, and you may find yourself cornered by-- c̨͟o͝͠r͟͞n͏ęr͜҉͞ed̶ ͢b͏͞y͜͏-- c̕ǫ̡҉r͘͡n͟͡e̶̢re͘d̀͏ ̴by ͘th͠͏i̛͟͝n͏g̸͏s̶̢ ͟th̀̕a̶͝t̴̢ ͡use͟d̷͞ ̛t̸̵̢o͏ ͡͝b̛͡e̷̛͞ p͢ȩó͝pl̸͜͜e҉.͘
De Chima is not what it once was. The city is covered by a strange shifting shimmer, and you don't even know how you ended up here, but you did. The sunlight splits into strange rainbow prisms, and everywhere you look things are growing. So quickly that if you stand and watch for more than a few seconds, you can see it growing in real time.
Not just growing. Changing. It isn't just the plants. The animals, the tech, the people, the land - everything is changing, morphing, dissolving. And you're changing, too...
y̛̜͈̪̹̤̲̣o̪̘̱u̸'̬̻̳͈͎r͖̯̫ͅe̸̠͕̟̜ ̧̝͇̠c̤̹͓͈̱̻̜h̼͔ͅa̝͇̟n҉̖̯ͅǵ̝i̖͎̫̜̩̝̻͞n̮̖͚̠̳͉g ͕̺̗̞̭ͅa̺̭̘͕͉̳̺n͙̦̹̙d̹̤̫̪̦͔ ̮̙i̝̺̺t͏̱̟͙̪̳͈ w̥͎̹̦͍o̩̬͍͍͕͠ṉ͓̠͖'̧̦̝̘͔̳̫t͓̫̹̥̬̹͕ s̪̤̗͙̦͎t̛̯̩͙̦͇̤o̴̘͍̝̣̼̙͙p͓̱̜̹͖
03. Maurtia Falls, Pennsylvania has carried a reputation for ups and downs ever since imPorts began reappearing again, just those few years prior. Several imPort heroes have put focused efforts into cleaning up the streets of this somewhat infamous city, while a handful of others had swooped in to help the criminal industry thrive. More so here than the streets of any other imPort city, the battle between good and evil looks more like a war of escalation than a heroic tale, even with Ambassador Padme and imPort Mayor Baelish gracing the headlines. Everything from the classic bank heist to brutal bloodbaths can happen around the corner. You have to keep your eyes open and your mind sharp when you live in Maurtia Falls, and hostility against imPorts can spike. The emergence of locals with superpowers is hardly helping... #THANKS TONY STARK, #ya muffin.
The protests from earlier in the month have left their toll on Maurtia Falls, as the damage done from the riots are still being painted over, cleaned up, repaired and repaved.
Walking along the streets of the city, if you stick out at all like an ImPort (or even have a visible ImPort tattoo), you’re immediately honed in on by one of the various members of the clean-up crew, who wear bright yellow vests.
“You’re an ImPort, aren’t you?” They’ll say, gruff and slightly accusatory. “Well, help clean this up. You’re the reason this happened.” And with that, they’ll shove a vest, a broom, and a dust pan into your hands, before taking off. Maybe they were trying to get out of doing the work themselves in the end.
04. Nonah, North Carolina, is the liveliest of all cities; loud, busy and there's always some kind of energy in the air that gets everyone buzzing with excitement. Today, the biggest buzz comes from a tech-cosmetics company, ReNew U, which is offering free tests of its new flagship product. What looks like a can of hair spray actually has the power to temporarily change one's appearance. A spritz to the face could add or remove freckles or provide a new makeup job; a spray to the head might provide not just a new hairstyle but new hair. And going all-over seems to change one's entire body! Of course, it only lasts until someone takes a shower, but why not experiment?
There's just one catch—thanks to the social component of ReNew U, these new looks aren't generating temporary changes out of thin air, they're copying the appearances of others in the area. Got a killer new haircut? So does someone else, thanks! Walk around for a while and you just might meet your doppelganger—so you're going to take a picture together and post it via the special ReNew U app, right? #twins #goodlooks
no subject
It's the realization that he's supposed to be out here for Stiles's sake that stops him from just asking a shit ton of interrogatory questions without giving the kid a chance to catch his breath. He remembers how hard he had it, those first few months here - constant paranoia that someone was after him, a fear of the dark he hadn't felt since he was a kid. Stiles isn't a werewolf, so he doesn't have that naturally ingrained jumpiness that comes from expecting hunters around every corner, but he still wants to make his transition into Retro America: Mars Is Trying To Kill Us Edition as smooth as it could be. The pacing stops. Again. ]
Peter had been terrorizing the whole town. I found out. We found out. I ripped out his throat. He died. I became Alpha. I woke up here.
[ Said with an unapologetic callousness, jumping over Peter's death with almost idle disinterest. He looks at Stiles again, anxious despite the dude's gel-wearing and Cora-knowing glory. Still wants to know about the future, but he needs to get his priorities right. Everything he's learned since being here has been a reminder that he has strength he needs to use to protect people. So. ]
They gave you a place to stay, right? You have a bed? A job?
no subject
[That's - so much has happened? So much has happened. He actually played in a game of lacrosse and he's not sure why that's the only thing racing to the forefront of his mind at a moment like this but when the other options are casually mentioning yet another supposedly dead relative of Derek's is alive. Well, he'll take the lacrosse daydream for a few seconds longer. Ah, right. There it goes. It's gone.
Skittery dittery feelings aside, it's not hard to hone in on Derek being shaken and with good reason. He didn't have a lot of time to process things when they struck him the first time and now there's just as little build up to it. He scratches at his forearm and then scrubs at his face, rubbing slightly red rimmed eyes before exhaling. Focusing. Calm, zen like a garden.]
Yeah, assigned housing and assigned job. I'm like a glorified caddie but for a bunch of kids who play lacrosse better than I do. And I'm talking tiny freakin' children. I don't even get to be called coach? It's insulting. I'm insulted.
[But he's good. Yeah, he's alright.]
What about you? Lone wolfin' it out? How's that... going for you? What'd they nail you with? Buff tv extra? Professional hair model? Something to do with sports cars?
no subject
[ Six months of being alone and struggling under the weight of a red-eyed mantle he can't carry hasn't made him any less withholding when it comes to personal information. Especially when that personal information is something he's embarrassed about? The scout leader thing was a nightmare and he's left that shit dead and buried. The ghost of it still haunts him, but considering he's been forcefully ignoring all the calls from his old boss trying to hire him again, that's all it is. A ghost.
Despite it all, Derek wants to ask for reassurance about Cora - is she really okay? sits on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows it down along with the rest of the questions he wants to ask. About her, about the world, about the future. He's shaken, but he's supposed to be above feelings like that. Rolling his shoulders, Derek puts everything out of his mind except for Stiles, zeroing in on something that gives him focus. Being supportive. ]
I have places you can crash or hide out in if things get rough. Places in my own name. I chose not to register, so - if you choose to stay unsettled, you'll have somewhere to go when they boot you from assigned housing.
[ He's being nice when he opts not to circle back and comment on the glorified caddie reveal, even though, oh, man. So many mean things he could say about that. He figures that between that, trying to do good by Stiles and not haranguing him for details about home, he's made up for slamming him against the wall and he's got enough good karma to be at least a little bit rude. A little bit. ]
Your dad's not here. Scott's not here. You're skinny and bony and won't survive without someone watching your back, so. [ Long, disgusted sigh. ] I guess that's me, until you make a real friend.
no subject
[He can't even poke at the bony and skinny digs because you can't really buff out the truth. And speaking of buff, some people just aren't naturally beefcakes. He likes to think of himself as a runner's body just without the running, athletic prowess or ability to do hurdles. Lithe though? He likes the word lithe. He sure as fuck isn't lithe but he would like to pretend he is.
Stiles tugs on his collar, feeling like he has just as many questions to ask Derek in return but the waters between them are uncertain. What more or less solidified them being a bit better than just formal acquaintances is only known from one side, so his defense of 'I kinda figured we were already friends' just sort of withers its way back down his throat before he says it. Are they friends? Is Derek capable of friends?]
Y'wanna like, grab a bite to eat or something? Talk, draw some crazy ven diagrams of what we know or don't know and catch up a little? Also I just think it's better if we're sitting down and also in public for half the stuff I so gotta tell you.
no subject
He starts walking without telling Stiles that's what he's about to do, just putting his boots back to concrete and heading away from the post office they'd been loitering against. He's silent the whole walk, not bothering to look back at Stiles as he heads to a diner he knows a few blocks away, and the only time he stops staring dead ahead into the distance is when he whips out his phone to send his friend a text to make sure the cat gets fed. It is... an uncomfortable trip.
It's over in a few minutes, though, thank god, the retro diner Derek found for them all red leather booths and glowing neon signs so stark against the bland cream buildings surrounding it. He's been here enough times to be recognized the second he steps through the swinging door to a bell that signals his entrance, some dowdy old woman cheerfully welcoming him - ah, Miguel, you're back! it's been a while! - before ushering him to his regular seat in the furthest corner. He doesn't take the time to explain the name.
He shifts uncomfortably once his ass is in his seat, back to the wall and side to the window, and he orders something - a burger and a milkshake, in true 50s Americana fashion - mumbling his intention to pay after Stiles adds what he wants. Derek's tired, already rubbing at his temple and struggling with the weight of where to start as the waitress leaves them alone. He figures he'll go with something simple. ]
How long ago was the Peter thing, for you?
no subject
Slack jawed, he gets momentarily distracted once in the door - sights, sounds, a whole lotta good smells - before right, right, they're heading to a booth. He collapses into it across from Derek, all knees banging up against the table until he's settled in and picking up a menu. Idly just opening and closing the plastic lined flaps of it without paying attention. Flap flap. Flap flap. Flap.]
I'll have what ah, my good friend Miguel is having.
[He gives the waitress a short nod as she scribbles it down, then shoots a pointed look Derek's way - lips gently curled up in the corners because he noticed. He nooooticed. Heeeee's nooooticinnnng that. And he's also back to playing with the menu, flap flap. Heh. Miguel.]
The whole Peter going maniacal thing? Yeah, been a lil' bit. A lot has happened? Hunters, Kanima, crazy trees. Alpha packs, darachs, family reunions. We had a whole slew of weird human sacrifices. Werewolves that needed pedicures. Weird creepy twins and lunar eclipses. Beacon Hills is uh. Well, a beacon. For insanity. How do I say this next part tactfully...
[He drums his fingers on the table. Only thinks to make it a drum roll two seconds too late.]
You kiiiilled Peter but he didn't staaaay dead? Yeah, that's also a thing. Really bothers me, too. He. Just. Kinda really bothers me in general.
no subject
Could have picked a different name, though.
He's a mixture of sullen and cautious when Stiles starts bulletpointing all the things he's missed back home - all the things he has to look forward to, should he ever return, stripped of his memory and his time away. Stiles starts with "hunters" and he doesn't even react, though just the word Kanima has him sitting a little straighter. It only gets worse; Stiles touches on things Derek can connect too clearly to names and places he recognizes from his childhood, the Nemeton and an alpha like Kali signalling nothing good. He knew there would be danger coming, the second he stole Peter's status. He hadn't expected it all to sound so - grim, coming out of Stiles's mouth.
Derek rests his forearms on the edge of the table, holding eye contact. The words he didn't stay dead sound, simultaneously, overtly insane and bizarrely predictable. He's - angry. He's angry? He's furious, rage burrowing through him like a sick red snake. More and more he looks as if he's personally blaming Stiles for the mess he's been through, and despite everything he's trying to do here, it doesn't seem like he has any problems with shooting the messenger. His heartbeat rises and Stiles keeps drumming his fingers over the table. The world is boxing itself in, everything-- everything's so loud. How is Peter alive? How is Cora alive? How-- how is--
He slams his hands against the table, rattling the sugar bowl. ]
Oh - my god? Sit still. You're, what, sixteen? Seventeen? You're sitting like you're eight. It must have been impossible for your parents to take you anywhere nice when you were growing up. I wanna pry my claws under your kneecaps until I hear something snap.
no subject
First, I don't have my scripts. This is how I'm operating, gentle ADHD mania through and through. Second? It was impossible for my folks to take my anywhere. My dad started going grey the second I said my first words. Third? Thiiiiird.
[He quirks his brows, leaning forward a bit - before well, thinking better of it and darting his gaze down to Derek's hands and then back up at his face. Ready to duck out of the way if those claws actually come out. He wouldn't, right? Shit, would he? He squints.]
I saved your life? I saved your life. You don't know it but it happens - it totally happens and I just want you to know it happens and that you still owe me? So leash up the attitude here, and... and...
[Hand gesture. He pauses. He's not sure what he was going for with that metaphor.]
You're not exactly a picnic right now yourself. I'm running on caffeine, adrenaline and three hours worth of sleep in a completely busted retro America where the only person I know is you and you're already threatening me with bodily harm. I am doing my best.
[He... quietly has his hand on the salt shaker, sliding it side to side on the table without realizing it. Slide. Slide. Slide. His focus is off to the other side of the room, caught up in thoughts that are only a small majority chastising. His hand stops moving the shaker and calm floats over him - if only for a passing moment.]
Scott's an alpha now.
no subject
You just told me that two members of my family who should be dead - [ because of me, is the unstated addition - ] - are alive. You threw around words like "Kanima" and "Darach" as gleeful, exciting windows into my future. Worst of all? You said I'm going to owe you, Stiles, a skinny, drowned rat of a man, a life debt. That sucks. I'm allowed to be on edge.
[ ... but for all his bluster, Derek doesn't have that much anger left in him these days. He holds another long, pointed stare at Stiles, but it shaves itself away pretty quickly. With a humorless breath through his nose, Derek rolls his eyes and sits back against his seat, not so much put in his place as he is just... done. Stiles is trying his best. That he can agree with. He could barely even swing that baseball bat he stole from Scott, the last time Derek saw him. Being in a situation like this is hardly his wheelhouse.
Besides - there's something obvious he has to ask. Derek sits back up, taking the salt shaker from Stiles and fidgetting with it himself, sliding it from hand to hand over his side of the table. It's supposed to be a peace offering when he slides it back across, like he's passing a lacrosse ball to his teammate. Giving Stiles permission to fidget, if that's what he needs to do. Derek tries to keep the hurt out of his voice, or at least the bristling arrogance that can't accept what he's thinking as possible, when he asks what he needs to ask, head down. Both emotions bleed through. ]
Did Scott kill me?
no subject
God no. I mean, well, he's Scott.
[Quietly said in a manner that might imply he doesn't think Scott could really take Derek of all people, but he's gonna carry on through.]
Turns out he's a "true alpha"? That's what we found out, anyway. He didn't have to like, take his power from anyone else. Deucalion wanted him to join the alpha pack, but that kinda disbanded when... everybody started dying. It wasn't the best of times, with the whole Darach thing.
[He winces. Wasn't a great time for the members of the Alpha Pack.]
Listen - I'm just gonna blurt this out like the good word vomiter I am, but you did lose your alpha. You gave it up. To save Cora's life. Which was - a really freakin' cool thing to do, if you ask me. You saved her and you guys were gonna go... chill. Together. Probably had a lot to catch up on? And Peter to get away from.
no subject
He barely knows what a Darach is. He's heard stories, of course he has - dark druids, crafting their spells with the blood of man rather than the life of the earth. Deucalion is a lot of things, but he's not sure he's worthy of being targeted by someone who gains their power through human sacrifice, however naive that opinion might be. Derek crashes back against his seat and drags his hands down his face, overwhelmed enough even before the rest of what Stiles is saying hits him.
The waitress comes back just after Stiles mentions Peter, and Derek shifts aside some things to make room for their meals. Milkshakes are kind of a weird thing for his image, especially because he didn't get a straw and runs the risk of getting a milk moustache forced on him, but he steals Stiles's to avoid that fate. He also picks out everything in his burger that isn't meat, because that's just the kind of guy he is. He gives up the healthy additions to his diet just like he gives up power and security, apparently. ]
I sound - subdued.
[ Not that that's a bad thing, necessarily, but right now Derek's living his life hunting for total and complete control, for dominance. The idea that he'd give those things up feels like an incredible blow, one that he's almost not sure he would ever be willing to withstand, but all he has to see in his head is Cora at 11 years old crying and alone while her home is in ashes to know that he'd give up all the joy in the world if it took away her pain. It feels - resolving, maybe, to know that at the end of whatever he's got coming, he'll have family who loves him. Hopefully. That's more than he's had since Laura's death. He doesn't have the guts to ask Stiles how Cora took all that, if he even knows.
As for Scott... ]
Scott's kind of a dick. I don't really see that happening for him. Are you sure he didn't just stab someone in the back and tell everyone he's a true alpha?
[ ... Derek's not his biggest fan just yet. Hasn't lived through all the inspirational friendship speeches. ]
no subject
[Subdued maybe isn't the word but reflecting on it now, Derek did sort of chill out a bit? Or did he just get preoccupied with a new slew of bullshit in his life from mistletoe poisoning to love forcing dark druids. Stiles starts passing the shaker back and forth between his hands on the table, managing to subdue any more exaggerated fidgeting. One such slide spills a bit of salt onto the table and then pressing his finger to it, lifting granules up before rubbing his fingers together to get rid of them.]
Scott's Scott, like I said. But it happened, no stabby stabby required. All in all, things are kinda okay after all that? If you don't reflect on how the Nemeton's active now and probably summoning all sorts of supernatural creatures back to Beacon Hills. Like werecoyotes. We met a werecoyote?
[He looks up at Derek - that's kinda cool, right? Sorta?]
Hey, you don't have any onions on that, right? Dogs don't eat onions. I mean, wolves shouldn't eat onions? And for God's sake, if you're going to waste everything, pass it here. You and Scott, man. Seriously.
no subject
Does Stiles know about Paige? What Derek did? The spark that ignited-- all of this, the first ember that set the Nemeton alight. He hasn't said anything to indicate he does, but how would you even bring that up? "I know about that girl you murdered the shit out of, do you want to talk about it" isn't exactly the smoothest transition. Then again, he brought up Peter pretty easily. Derek saw the light leave that asshole's eyes, how is he alive? He watches Stiles play with his salt and eat his food and generally just burn with too much energy.
Of all the people to show up. Honestly. ]
If the Nemeton is active, it won't be kinda okay for long. You'll need my help to get through whatever's coming.
[ Even if he gives up being Alpha, he still knows more about how to protect himself than any of these dweebs do, and - even if they've outgrown him in the year or so gap between his and Stiles's histories, he'd feel better being relied on than forgotten. He stabs his straw into his milkshake a few times, clearing away some of the froth and blending the icecream into the rest of it. ]
Don't let me stay away for too long. Cora never even liked it when I came into her room to hang out - living with her again after a six year break would probably end in my death, so.
no subject
[Half mocking, half actually - truthful, there's not really any replacement for Derek. Stiles is helping himself to the scraps off of his plate, stuffing them into his burger with his hands like a kid building a sandcastle. It's messy and disgusting but he fights to keep it all together for his next bite. Predictably, half of it falls back out to smack on his plate. He also talks while still chewing, pointing with his finger to punctuate his sentences.]
Scott and Isaac got the woof factor down in your absence and me, Lydia and Allison are also kinda around. If you count bow and arrows, fugue state dead body discovery and my excellent brain for... things as useful. Which I do. God, what else has happened? My dad knows. So does Scott's mom. Annnd Allison's dad. Trifecta of knowing parents knowing things that parents know now. Knowingly.
no subject
He silently slides over a fistful of napkins rather than comment on Stiles's messy eating. ]
I don't know who Isaac is. [ Whoops. Hasn't started sniffing out betas yet. ] How do your parents feel about... everything?
[ He doesn't bother hiding the suspicion in his voice, the way he's - guarded. Derek's been in Beacon Hills long enough to know that humans and werewolves generally don't make a habit of going out and grabbing a meal together all in the name of bonding, present company excluded. He takes a drink from his milkshake and folds his hands together, inching forward and hunching over the table, eyeing Stiles. ]
Your dad's the Sheriff. He could have the Argents up for murder, now that he knows what he knows.
no subject
He takes a napkin, using it to wipe his mouth and give himself a precious few more seconds to swallow and more importantly - think of the best way to tackle his answer. He doesn't know who Isaac is which means he doesn't know of any of his betas, and Stiles realizes the weight behind that and whether it may be better or worse to crack that nut while they can. Erica and Boyd are still... pretty fresh wounds. Maybe it's better to avoid it.
With a clearing of his throat and a bop of his fist against his chest to clear his airways, he decides to take off on the other foot and answer the more immediate questions. And state a few more blanket facts in regards to... well, the Argents. Is he going to have to have a board for this place and a board to try and figure out what to or not to tell Derek? Jeez.]
Still sort of. Dealing with how they feel but like, Scott's mom didn't talk to him for days. I guess she was processing... It is kinda a lot to process? For my dad I think, well... I think it just clicked a lot of things into place. For better or worse.
[So many unsolved cases.]
Not many Argents left to be up for murder. Lot went down. I can fill you in but if you can believe it, there's really only Allison's dad still around. And he's actually helped us?
no subject
Okay, woah. No. Human sacrifice, the constant threat of terror and death, Hales crawling out of the grave - all of that I can understand. I'd sooner chew off my own right hand than take help from Chris Argent.
[ But still - it's nice to hear that Kate's death had a domino effect. He's lost his appetite and doesn't seem to think it's inherently kind of gross to slide the rest of his mangled, half-eaten burger over to Stiles, because that's what he does before dropping back against the booth's bench and craning his neck back. There are ceiling fans spinning overhead and he idly watches them cut circles above him for a while, wondering if he should... take Stiles up on his offer and press for more info about the Argent's downfall. He should know, right? Especially if one of them shows up here.
He decides he doesn't need to ask, not yet. He probably killed them himself, right? Got a pack, secured his status as an Alpha. Lost that status, apparently, when he gave it up for Cora - though he has no fucking idea how that's supposed to work. Makes sense that he'd try to defang the biggest snake this town has while he's still in power. Wonders what his mother would say to that, though. Hell, he wonders what Peter would say to that. Derek sits back up and finishes off his milkshake, chugging the last half of it without taking a breath. Slams the empty glass back down on the table and looks Stiles in the eye. ]
Forget all of that. Okay? Any other horrible things you want to tell me about home, just - put them out of your mind, unless you really need to tell me. [ ... ] I should talk you through surviving here. I don't even know where to start.
no subject
He considers giving a few supportive words about Chris Argent and how he helped, how Allison helps, but honestly - this is a lot. He doesn't need to get Derek agitated, they can smooth over that later or never at all. One other thing he doesn't need is to get into the heebie jeebie druid magic of nearly or technically dying in a pseudo-sacrifice himself, so he just takes another bite of his burger and accidentally pulls a whole slice of tomato out with it. Hold on while he chews it all and sets his burger down.]
Suuuurviving? Isn't this just hopped up retro America? Why are you making this sound like a FPS. Is it super Stepford or something?