![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
001 (video)
[ Maybe Independence Day is Coach Finstock's favorite movie for a reason. All Stiles knows is, at first he was in his jeep, dropping Scott off at home - and then he was in a shuttle, with some nasty-looking dude with six eyes staring at him.
He may have shrieked in a totally manly way and sat on the bench furthest away from him.
Anyway the shuttle - space shuttle, space ship - had set down, and he'd been herded out and dumped on a launch pad in some serious need of scrubbing. Some dude with actualfax fucking mandibles had tiredly told him that he was supposed to go to Zeta district and help with repairs if he didn't have anything better to do. He did not field any other questions. Stiles has been flying by the seat of his pants for the last few hours.
That first hour may have involved hyperventilating.
Regardless, he knows how to work this omni-tool thing now and he's using it thanks to ingenuity and possibly some passerby help. His face fills up the entire screen. ]
So aliens are real. Big, giant huge wrinkly aliens that look like they want to eat my face, and blue space babes. Okay, that's cool, we respect all of the species in human-land. Totally cool bros here.
[ A teenager's very determined expression of resolve goes here, though. ]
What we don't respect is kidnapping. Which I'd say is what just happened, you know. But I've got questions. If any of you see a five foot three girl with fair skin, green eyes, and strawberry blonde hair, or a five foot ten dude with tan skin, brown eyes, brown hair and an uneven jawline, you're gonna tell me, okay?
And if any of you touch a hair on that fine lady's head, I'm going to go Will Smith on your butts.
[ Scott can handle some heat. Stiles turns the video off, then switches it back on suddenly. ]
And the dude you're telling is Stiles!
He may have shrieked in a totally manly way and sat on the bench furthest away from him.
Anyway the shuttle - space shuttle, space ship - had set down, and he'd been herded out and dumped on a launch pad in some serious need of scrubbing. Some dude with actualfax fucking mandibles had tiredly told him that he was supposed to go to Zeta district and help with repairs if he didn't have anything better to do. He did not field any other questions. Stiles has been flying by the seat of his pants for the last few hours.
That first hour may have involved hyperventilating.
Regardless, he knows how to work this omni-tool thing now and he's using it thanks to ingenuity and possibly some passerby help. His face fills up the entire screen. ]
So aliens are real. Big, giant huge wrinkly aliens that look like they want to eat my face, and blue space babes. Okay, that's cool, we respect all of the species in human-land. Totally cool bros here.
[ A teenager's very determined expression of resolve goes here, though. ]
What we don't respect is kidnapping. Which I'd say is what just happened, you know. But I've got questions. If any of you see a five foot three girl with fair skin, green eyes, and strawberry blonde hair, or a five foot ten dude with tan skin, brown eyes, brown hair and an uneven jawline, you're gonna tell me, okay?
And if any of you touch a hair on that fine lady's head, I'm going to go Will Smith on your butts.
[ Scott can handle some heat. Stiles turns the video off, then switches it back on suddenly. ]
And the dude you're telling is Stiles!
video;
[and then:] Stiles, buddy. You might wanna tone it down a little if you expect to get any help at all with the people you're looking for. You might not like the sound of it, but blowing hot air isn't exactly how things work around here. At least .. unless you want to get yourself messed up.
[listen to the cripple, stiles. listen to the cripple.]
video;
Then he remembers that werewolves don't look like custard-faced six-eyed aliens, and relaxes only about a fraction. ]
No, I have definitely not been kidnapped out of my ride and dumped onto stations called Omega. [ he might need the tour guide.
Also, Stiles is painfully, painfully familiar with getting messed up. It's pretty sad. ]
I'm pretty against getting messed up. I like all my bones where they should be and not in fractional pieces.
But I need to find them, man. [ Even if .2 seconds later he's found Lydia, at least visually. ]
Do you know which button is the map?
perma-video;
why does everyone have to come from a version of earth where none of this makes sense. why can't everyone just make it easier and know what the reapers are and what the collectors are and understand that HEY WE'RE IN THE MIDDLE OF A WAR, HERE, WE'VE GOT MORE IMPORTANT PROBLEMS THAN YOUR MISSING GIRLFRIEND.
.. okay he's calm now.] Uh, I'm pretty sure you have, kiddo. Don't see your ride anywhere around here, do you?
[he pauses, eyebrows raising. at least the guy isn't going to start looking for trouble. joker's pretty sure that it'll end up finding him pretty easily one way or another. that's just how things work around here.] There should be a sub-menu that lets you bring up a map of the station. But .. good luck figuring out how to read it.
[helpful as always!]
no subject
[ Most of the shit he's seeing is flying, he thinks he'd be hard pressed to find an internal combustion engine that wasn't in a museum here. If this place has museums.
The advice isn't exactly stellar, but there's only so many buttons and sub menus and he will find that map, dammit. ]
Just knowing where the hell I might be going is about a thousand times better than staring at this wall.
The blinking one is me, I think. I hope.
no subject
[he swears if he has to hear vega ramble about that shit any more than he already has he's going to hire somebody to kick his ass for him.
and this place doesn't have museums, so you're shit outta luck on that one.] The blinking one should be you, yeah. What's it look like where you are? Maybe I can try to help you figure it out.
[because he has nothing better to do with his life right now, let's be real.]
no subject
[ Stiles figures that those are probably vehicles, but he's going to play stupid for now. Also, picturing sharks with wheels? Totally helping de-stress him a little. ]
It looks like one of the launch pads. But it's definitely not the one I arrived on, that one had a guy with a mandible hanging around.
If I'm the blinking one, I just need to figure out how to get to, uh. [ He repeats the bar name that Lydia gave him. ] I dunno if that's even in this district, or how to look for it.
no subject
[sigh. stiles you're killing him man. please stop thinking about sharks with wheels.
even if that would be pretty cool. just saying.] Oh, I know that place! [NO HE DOESN'T.] It's in the same district as you, but you're gonna have to go through a shit ton of back alleys to get there. Probably have to step over a few dead bodies on the way. You sure it's worth it?
[trolololo.]
no subject
[ Master of comebacks 2011: Stiles Stilinski.
Also, Joker's attempt to possibly gross him out... succeeds, really, but Stiles has his determiend face on because Lydia. ]
Yes, it's worth it. Compared to what I'd go through to get to her, some back alleys with killers is business as usual.
[ Actually that last part is true lol. ]
no subject
yes, you're a kid to him, stiles. not a teenager. you're a baby.]
but stiles seems serious about this chick, so .. maybe he'll start actually being helpful. for once in his life.
but he's still going to be a sarcastic little shit about it.] Is there something worse than back alleys with killers?
no subject
[ Okay he made the last part of that up. Possibly all of the parts. ]
Having to actually hold conversations with killers? That's pretty terrifying, in my experience.
no subject
[shut up don't judge him he does what he likes and watches what he likes you can't stop him.
and now he's squinting a little bit at that.] Do you make a habit out of holding conversations with 'em? That's kinda weird, man.
no subject
[ Though Aria is a terrible Doc, let's be honest. ]
Be my guest at explaining it, dude.
[ At the question, Stiles looks distinctly uncomfortable. ]
I don't make a habit of it, but it seems to keep happening in my life. Almost daily. Maybe I'm murder bait, who knows.
no subject
And I'm more entertaining than Doc Brown.
[YEAH HE JUST SAID IT.]
I don't think your simple, teenager brain would be able to comprehend it. Thanks for trying, though. [read: he doesn't feel like explaining it right now thank you have a nice day.]
.. Murder bait. Man, I think you ended up on the wrong damn station.
no subject
[ What's an SR2 anyway huh huh. He feels his expression curl into a pout when Joker doesn't feel like explaining mass effect cores. ]
You're the type of person that contributes to lowered youth intelligence and deliquency!
[ And for that last part... ]
No shit.
no subject
[excuse the hell out of you.]
Don't insult the hat, kid. This hat has been through a war and will probably go through another one. It's lucky.
[keep bugging him, maybe he'll tell you about them. you're bound to get a reaction out of him if you keep being obnoxious.
because that's how he gets people's attention, anyway.
for now, ignoring that last comment.] So how're you plannin' on keeping yourself safe? Guy like you needs a bodyguard or something.
no subject
[ oh god stiles has no idea what the hell he's about to get ripped into. ]
Well, I've got mad skills.
[ no that's said flatly, there's no way you can take it seriously. ]
I've got someone I know here and I'm pretty smart, I think I can handle it if I'm still alive at home.
[ not discounting this being a death hallucination. ]
no subject
[even if the alliance had taken her once shepard had been arrested for that whole object rho nonsense, taken her apart and just barely put her back together before giving her back. (yes, he was referring to that ship as her, because that ship was the love of his life and no one can stop him.)
joker just laughs at that comment.] Mad skills. Okay, well, you've got sarcasm covered - but I don't see how that's gonna help you in a fight.
no subject
[ go on, go on, tell him about the normandy joker.
straight faced: ]
I can run really fast.
no subject
[that's all you're getting unless you start showing some respect for his ship.]
What if they can too?
no subject
[ guess who likes the world war eras of his history textbooks. ]
I don't think you've seen how fast I can run. Also, I know parkour.
[ parkour! he's lying. ]
no subject
are you serious.] I can't even think right off the top of my head how far back in Earth's history that is for me. But - well, actually I have no idea what it's named for, so I can't say for sure yes or no.
[good job, kid. you got him thinking.]
Parkour. Really.