exsilium | oo1 || Video

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Well, it's not much, but at least there's some direction. And it gets you away from the things going down in your... world for awhile.

[Yeah, the whole 'world' thing is a pretty new concept. Not quite sure how he feels about that one.

And really, not that he's generally one to look on the bright side- but where Isaac comes from, getting away from his world means getting away from the 99% of the population that seemed to want to kill him at any given moment. And with the added bonus of the whole missing-slash-fugitive status gone? It's enough to at least give this place the benefit of a doubt.]

So I got the official story- what's it actually like here?

[Simple, a little bit demanding.]

Anyone?

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[He shrugs at the question, ignoring the sarcasm for now.]

Derek and- that other guy. [He pauses for a moment, trying to remember his name (it's been a very busy couple of days, can anyone blame him?), before it comes to him.] Peter. Why, you think they'll show up next?

[The theory sort of makes sense, except it's relying on a lot of what-ifs.]

I haven't seen Scott- or you- since the other night. If it works by proximity, then how do you explain that?

Maybe. I wouldn't rule out the possibility. [ stiles has been relying on what-ifs ever since 'werewolf' became a regularly used word in his vocabulary. which is... really sad, actually, but he doesn't see anyone else thinking up anythWAIT, WHAT. ]

Dude, did you just say Peter?

[He nods, a little unimpressed.]

Derek's creepy uncle? That guy, yeah.

[Not that Isaac really knows a whole lot about him, but he helped them out with the whole Gerard and Kanima thing, so Isaac is plenty willing to give him the benefit of a doubt.]

[ oh ]

[ HELL ]

[ no. ]

What? [ stiles almost shakes the netbook in his agitation. ] How? What did he say? What was he doing with Derek? I must have totally missed something here, because the last time I saw Peter, he was on fire. And then really, really dead.

[ his bullshit theory just got a whole lot less promising. ]

[Isaac cocks an eyebrow, halfway between amused and... a little disturbed at the reaction.]

Dude, calm down. You saw him- at the warehouse, remember?

[Being very :\ at you right now okay.]

[ THIS IS IMPORTANT, ISAAC, OKAY. peter is an insane murdering psychopath, he deserves every last one of stiles' facial contortions. ]

No! No remember! There was no warehouse in the Stiles equation, Isaac. There was Matt being dead, and Jackson being mini-Godzilla, and Lydia being... well, saner than usual, actually.

[ that, and about a billion other soul-crushing things he'd rather not think about right now (counseling, his dad, insomnia, werewolf crap, not necessarily in that order.) you best not be lying to him, or he is going to find you and strangle you himself. you know... metaphorically.

he takes a short breath and forces himself calm. ]

I need you to tell me exactly what's happening back home.

[God, Stiles, you are such a loser. You will continue to get that weird look from Isaac because you are clearly unable to voice your concerns like a normal human being.

But what he's saying is sort of sinking in, and Isaac tilts his head a little, not- exactly getting it.]

What do you mean? You were there. You- hit Jackson with your car.

[ loser, yes. amnesiac? not as far as he's aware, which is why this is beginning to freak him out a little.

... he hit jackson? with his car? ]

No, dumbass, I didn't. [ dude. work with him here. ] That's what I'm trying to tell you. None of that happened. I'm still waiting on—

[ —he stops, narrowing his eyes. ]

Has the championship game happened yet?

[Stiles, why are you denying reality. He still looks puzzled, and a little bit annoyed, before the last question is asked. It takes him a long few moments before he looks up, meets Stiles' eyes.]

...how could you forget it, idiot? You scored like, three times and Jackson-

[It finally hits him, what might actually be going on here and Isaac swallows hard.]

...you haven't been there yet, have you? Your face isn't- [Finally, uh, noticing that Stiles' face isn't all busted up, powers of observation are strong with this one.] -oh. Fuck.

I scored. Three times. [ his face actually lights up for one whole second before falling again, because in what fresh hell would coach actually allow his ass onto the field? a frozen one. a winter wonderland of hell. flying pigs optional.

he shakes his head—and then catches isaac's gaze, jaw set. he isn't irritated, per se—he's not startled, either—but if isaac could hear his heartbeat over the camera feed, he might notice it going a little faster than usual, stuttering out an anxious rhythm. ]

My face isn't what? [ stiles' mouth is a thin line, his brow furrowed. ] Dude, what happened?

[ he doesn't care if this... messes up timelines, or whatever. he needs to know. ]

No... something's wrong.

[TIMESTREAMS, STILES. Haven't you ever watched like... any time travel movie? Ever?]

They took us from different times, didn't they? You're before the game, before- shit. [He rubs at his head, running his fingers through his hair.] Yeah, you scored. Peter's back, Jackson's... okay, I guess. Last time I saw you, your face looked like it got dragged through the pavement, I don't know why.

[ OF COURSE HE HAS, like, multiple times in some cases, but the point still stands: he is currently out of any shits to give about potential time fuck-ups, especially when they've all been kidnapped by a clandestine history-rewriting group of nutjobs. irony. besides, he's not even sure they'll ever find a way back, which—nope, not thinking about that right now—and if peter's back, some serious shit is probably going to go down. or... went down. scott's obviously okay, but stiles' dad might not be, and that pretty much covers his immediate priorities. ]

Beautiful. So I have severe bodily harm to look forward to. That's great, I'm so relieved. [ head in hands. literally. not for long, but just long enough to utter a frustrated noise. ] I haven't asked Scott what he remembers. I just kinda assumed we were on the same page, since none of this... [ he makes a vague motion towards isaac ] stuff exactly reared its ugly head before.

[ his head snaps back up. ]

What about Lydia? Is she okay?

[What the hell does Lydia have to do with any of this? As much as Isaac is sort of above talking to dipshits like Stiles, there's that whole point of him trying not to be an ass to everyone recently. Ugh.]

Well- for what it's worth, you're still alive. More than I can say for a few others.

[Gerard and Matt, his father and Allison's mom... maybe Erica and Boyd, for all that Isaac's seen of them. Countless police officers, and more than a few random passerbys. But Lydia-]

Lydia's fine. She actually saved us, I guess.

Real reassuring. [ stiles knows about matt, knows about allison's mom, had witnessed the dead bodies of those police officers himself (jackson's claws, along with the gun in matt's hand). it makes him a little sick to think it could've been his dad, if he hadn't been fired, if he'd still been working at the station that night. what-ifs. they really suck, when you think about them.

sad thing is, they're only a little bit worse than the reality. he makes a mental note to ask about the total body count later. ]

She—what did she do?

[Isaac just kind of shrugs at the questions, not really enjoying being interrogated when it's him who's supposed to be asking the questions here, because really, Stiles has had at least a little time to adjust, right? Isaac's still here on Day One, trying to take everything in and convince himself that he's not hallucinating.

Really thoughtful of you, dude.]

Dunno- I didn't get a good look. [He shrugs, trying to shake the feeling that he's just being used for information. It irks him.] She gave something to Jackson and... [A pause. Isaac backs off and glances up at something on his device, before frowning.]

-not sure if this is the best time.

[Not sure if it's best to say stuff like this on an open forum, is what he means.]

[ that's stiles: extremely considerate of people who make his life difficult. okay, made—he's not really sure where isaac stands on the sliding scale of dickitude, but at least lately he's been lending a helping hand. sorry stiles is grilling you for info, dude, but this is like a thing he requires in order to survive. being nosy. it's a superpower.

stiles sucks in a cheek and chews on it, glancing off to the side. isaac has a point, and as much as it's killing him to reel back, he can bother isaac for further information in a more... private capacity, if such a thing even exists here. he wouldn't be surprised if their apartments were bugged. ]

All right, yeah, you're right.

[ he can (and will) bother you in person later. for now, he just sits back and scratches at his forehead, determined to get answers even if it means being overheard. ]

You find your apartment yet? I hear those are good for... living in. You know, walking, talking, inviting people over.

[ subtlety is strong with this one. ]

[Isaac just has to stare at him for a moment, because wow, that was completely and totally not subtle at all. There's quite a bit he'd rather be doing right now than entertaining Scott's dorky little pet, but there's still a part of Isaac that thinks that it could be mutually beneficial. He really didn't care about letting Stiles know what happened- he'll find out sooner or later anyway- and as long as the guy is here, it's a good opportunity to get some information on... well, anything else that might be here. What exactly might be going on. That kind of bullshit.

So he heaves a sigh and nods, trying to look the absolute most inconvenienced he possibly can.]

Yeah, I'm in 403.

[Another pause. His eyes narrow slightly as he fights between really not wanting to deal with a hyperactive brat and the idea of learning about this place from someone who at least sort of knows what it's like to be at home.

The latter wins out, but only barely. If he has to, he's more than capable of beating Stiles to a bloody, whimpering pulp. ~~God knows he has it coming~~]

You can... come over, I guess. But just for a few minutes, I have plans later.

[ you're feeling inconvenienced? plans? plans. what plans. you just got here. ]

Yeah, I'm kinda getting the feeling "a few minutes" isn't gonna be enough to cover everything. You know what, just—call me when your little plans are over with, and I'll swing by.

[ god, he hates waiting. but in the meantime, he can bother scott and try and come up with some kind of working theory surrounding the whole... kidnapping... phenomenon. ]

[Dude, his 'plans' are not being near you.

Which apparently are going to extend for at least a little while longer, as Stiles decides not to come over right away, and Isaac breathes a little sigh of relief. As much as familiar faces from home are nice, there's such a thing as a little too much familiarity- and Isaac is feeling overwhelmed enough now as it is without being grilled for more information.]

Whatever. I'm going to talk to Scott. Get the story from him or come see me tomorrow.

[Gosh, Isaac feels popular now. Too bad it's not really for the right reasons.]

Either way, I'm sure I'll see you... eventually.

Edited 2012-08-25 04:43 (UTC)

[ SCOTT IS YOUR PLANS wow ok he sees how it is.

his jaw twitches in irritation as he gives isaac the eye—both of them—but he nods his head in acknowledgement. this little info-exchange might be (potentially) mutually beneficial, but he doesn't have to like it. or isaac. both, really, they're kind of on equal footing right now. ]

O-ho, you bet I will.

[ one more sharp, decisive nod, and then stiles peaces out of the feed. catch you on the flip-side, lahey. ]

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