outsiders | 001 (video)

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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!

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[Lydia's experience thus far has been eerily similar. Except there's been no shrieking of any kind. Instead, silence. Utter and complete silence as she tries to rationally think of all the possible drugs that could have been introduced to her system to allow her such vivid hallucinations.

She's shuffled away and she immediately finds a place to sit that doesn't feel like the world is going to swallow her whole and begins to take inventory - mostly of her well-being. When she realizes that her pulse is steady (not elevated), her pupils are reacting to light properly (not blown and sluggish), and her reflexes seem perfectly fine... she's flabbergasted.

What is going on? She was on her way away from the Stilinski residence, away as in - not going into space. Yet, here she is.

A few hours of wandering and decidedly not touching anything and she's trying to figure out this device. Her timing must be categorically coincidental because she catches the end of Stiles' transmission. Which is just in time to hear her own physical description and then an odd threat of harm that she's positive no one here is going to get.

She figures out how to work this thing and tries to reconnect back to Stiles.]

I hope you make sure to specify which brand of Will Smith you're going to be descending upon them with, because some of his earlier works aren't exactly stellar.

And what the hell did you do, Stiles? [Because if he is looking for her, in a strange place, where she's never been before, OBVIOUSLY this is his fault.]

Edited (icon needs more accusation look) 2013-03-31 00:58 (UTC)

[have nothing but a pair of eyes and the brim of a hat, at first. there's an eyebrow raised, and the guy on the other end of the feed is laughing - and not really bothering to hide it.] Never been to Omega before, I take it? If you need a tour guide, let me know.

[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.]

[ It doesn't take long for the device to beep and make Stiles jump a little. But at least it's for a good reason, because Lydia's alive. Alive, okay, whole, and actually talking to him which is more than what's happened for him normally. ]

The brand that starts with an I and ends in Day, duh! [ Not that Stiles can fly planes or code viruses that are compatible with totally alien mainframes. ]

I [ His video feed shakes as he gapes at her, ] I didn't do anything! I was driving Scott home and then [ Points at the nearest alien, points back to himself ] I was here!

Where are you? [ Switching tack because he has to know okay ]

[ Stiles has a miniature heart attack for two seconds because Omega, what? IS HE ON A COMMUNE OF LONE WEREWOLVES IN SPACE, THAT WOULD BE HORRIBLE.

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?

Edited (stealth eit) 2013-03-31 02:09 (UTC)

[have a very unimpressed-looking shadow staring into her omni-tool at the smattering of wordvomit that just pretty much smacked her in the face.

oh, no. not another one of you.] .. Great. Another one of you that isn't familiar at all with aliens. Or this station. Or just where in the galaxy you are to begin with.

[this is offered kind of as an aside, over her shoulder, as though she's speaking to someone else.

(that someone else totally being her little sister.)] They really should start handing out welcome brochures at the dock.

Jeff Goldblum's finest work. [She says that as if it doesn't need any qualifiers. But now she's back to the ACTUAL problem.]

I'm in Omega, apparently. Wherever that is and it's loud... [She glances up and looks around.] Okay, there's a bar and some people and they don't exactly look like the type of 'people' I can ask for directions.

[Cut to Lydia trying to be stealthy with her device and possibly giving Stiles a bit of motion sickness with the quick movement of the lens to point out where she is and the lurkers around the outside of the bar. How she managed to wander to this area is beyond her. She isn't exactly claiming to have been paying attention. She thought it was a dream or a paranoid delusion of some sort.]

[ Oh, shiiiit.

Stiles is perfectly aware that Lydia is capable of taking care of herself. Aware, but that doesn't mean his first reaction isn't to tell her to get out of there. So. ]

You should probably, actually, definitely get out of there.

[ Then, a moment later, ] But tell me what it's called! [ He couldn't see from the quick flash of the bar. ] I think there's a map on this thing, so if I can find it, I'll find you. Okay?

[ Wow, rude much? Stiles clicks his tongue. ]

Uh, I'm pretty sure I was on Earth, in the Milky Way galaxy, which is also a delicious candy bar.

[ He digresses. ]

I'm getting the vibe that's probably not where where I am now, judging by your thinly-veiled disdain.

[She gives him a look, then another look at the bar and the lurkers.]

Fine. I just - where should I even go?

[She gets a look at the name of the bar.]

It's call the [insert plausible name here]. I hope that helps and I'm not going to go far.

Anywhere. Anywhere not there, okay, I might not be an alien-reader but they scream shady. Just stay safe.

[ He burns the name into his memory and he eventually finds the map button. Navigating said map is an experience, but he figures out where Lydia is and makes his way there.

He almost trips over several things, meets an angry hissing creature and it's really ugly pet, but eventually he ends up near the bar.

He doesn't see Lydia, so he goes past the corner and - aha! ]

Lydia!

at least u dont have ne aliens in ur brain ... u dont have ne aliens in ur brain rite

[Moving away from the onlookers seemed smart, but she isn't planning on going too far. If Stiles is coming for her, it's pointless to make it difficult for him to find her. She's trying to get a feel for this place. It feels slightly industrial, high-tech, but not anything that makes her feel comfortable.

When she hears her name being called, she whips her head around. She's never been happy to hear Stiles calling her name, but there's a moment of relief that he at least found her.]

Stiles. [His name is a sentence.]

Do you know how this happened?

i'm pretty sure i don't have any aliens in my brain.

...

not that i would know if i did, if they were the kind that didn't tell you that they were in your brain.

75% sure its still all me.

[ thank you for casting that shadow of doubt marco. ]

You're okay, right?

[ He asks her this because he has to, because he can't not, perpetually worried while assured that she's a strong person. He just doesn't know what to do.

At least with this, he doesn't have to lie. ]

I have no freakin' clue, like at all. Scott and I were playing lacrosse [ as if the crosse stick slung across his back isn't evidence of that ] but then I was like, here.

What happened to you? How'd you get all the way out here?

I got off that shuttle and then I started to walk. I got distracted. [She might have taken some wrong turns...]

And I'm fine. I've been kidnapped. That's perfectly fine and what do you mean you were playing Lacrosse with Scott. I just left your house.

I just left your house and then I was here and I don't want to be here because there were things I needed to do back home.

[ His mouth opens and closes, because what? ]

What do I mean? What do you mean? Did you block out the last few days or whatever?

You haven't been to my house since - since before the whole Jackson and Derek in the warehouse deal.

[ Not that she'd need to. She had Jackson again, after all. ]

Also, I've been kidnapped too! It's not like I'm in a different boat.

[Her gaze narrows, arms crossing over her chest.]

What Derek, Jackson, and the warehouse deal?

ok dude 25% is a pretty big number 2 not b sure there arent aliens in ur brain whats the last thing u remember b4 u got kidnapped

[ He spreads his arms. ]

The deal where you gave him back his house key or what-freaking-ever it was. And it totally like, inspired warm fuzzy feelings in him so -

[ So Derek and his Uncle brutally gutted him and you thought he died, but then he wasn't really dead. ]

And he stopped being so lizard-y. At least in the monstrous sense.

You really don't remember any of that?

o was driving my friend scott home from practicing lacrosse.

one minute driver's seat, next minute bam, kidnapped.

and hey, how do i know you don't have aliens in your brain?

What the Hell are you talking about? How can I remember something that hasn't happened? [Lydia is upset, angry actually, because she hates not knowing what's going on. It's a constant with all of her friends and now there's this huge thing that Stiles is telling her and she's completely unsure of what's going on.]

They wanted me to go, to go see him, to give him something -- but I haven't gone and what do you mean he stopped being all lizard-y?

[ Stiles can see that she's angry, but he's frustrated, and he gestures to her. ]

I don't know, because it freaking happened to me? I was there and I know you were too because we crashed into Jackson.

And I mean he stopped. He was freaking human as could be and then he got what he wanted, I guess, because he definitely had the fangs and fur going on.

[ To be a werewolf. ]

omg u play lax ok n/m definately no aliens in ur brain pretty sure there arent ne aliens that lame but were all the aliens here dude

[God, there is so much here that isn't making sense, but then does make sense. It's like all of his annoying rambling, while completely frustrating her, is filling in those blanks. Things she thinks she knew, thinks she had sorted out and now it's all sliding into these gaping holes.

No, some things don't make sense, but Jackson yelling at her, telling her that she took something from him. That's clear. That's clear as day.]

Got what he wanted. [She nods.] Right. [Less nodding, more walking away from Stiles. It's not on purpose, but she thinks better if she can keep things moving. Forward momentum is good for the mind. It motivates her. Makes her think less of what's behind her.]

No, it didn't happen for me yet. [She states it and then whips around, so if he was following her there is definitely space needed and she will shove. She has no issue with that.]

Which means whatever took us, whatever half-assed attempt at kidnapping, but dropping us into a new location where we apparently have zero actual restrictions except where the population's minority, also has the ability to interfere with timelines which is clearly mostly theoretical at this point. Not here, of course, but back where we're from.

[Why is she bothering explaining it to him like this.]

Look, what happened with Jackson? Tell me everything. [And yes. Right here. In public. Right now.]

hey lacrosse is not lame. native americans used to use it to settle disputes and stuff. well, a form of it, anyway, lacrosse is technically a derivative of stickball.

what. i'm pretty freaking sure i'm not an alien dude

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text | BY SAYING THAT YOU RUINED THE NEXT POST I HAD PLANNED