TEXT

[itase]

Okay. Survey time. Am I seriously the only person here who's not from a world filled with people trying to murder me?

I mean. I had the one. But that was more incidental. I am the definition of collateral damage on that one. But some of you all take it to the next level. Or all the way up to 11, in some cases.

Comments

[itase]

me kitchen es su kitchen, boyo.

i hope you know how to make waffles.

1/???

[omicron]

[ wh

w h a t

WHAT ]

2/???

[omicron]

[ this is some whacko fate bullshit right here ]

3/3

[omicron]

[ then again

could be worse. he's cool with it. ]

wow, this is incredibly creepy and kind of awesome at the same time.

waffles are my bitch.

[itase]

i believe you just summed up the entirety of my prediction for this relationship.

where are you? i can do a search and rescue in the name of sweet, breakfasty treats.

[omicron]

please hold

[ he looks up and around, stopping at the nearest number. ]

200s. 202.

[itase]

pfft you're almost at the door

Left then right. It will be the open door. With celebrating lady inside.

text → ACTION

[omicron]

[ instead of texting back, stiles goes right ahead and keeps on walking. five minutes. left. then right. open door. 307. bingo.

he pokes his head in, not really sure what to expect, but prepared for it all the same. expect the unexpected. see: spanish inquisition. besides, he's got his trusty (sentient?) baseball bat tucked into a belt loop, so if this darcy person turns out to be a mass-murdering psychopath, at least he'll be able to get a few good hits in before he's mauled to death.

stiles' thought process: sadly twisted, and yet necessarily practical. ]

Hello? Room service.

[itase]

Wouldn't that be you talking to yourself?

[Darcy hops off the couch at his much anticipated arrival. Not that the other roomie wasn't great and all, but this one's technically closer to her age range. And general time period.

Plus he makes food. There was literally no down side to this.]

Aaaand do you wield a bat on all your dates, or are you just that happy to see me in person?

[omicron]

I'm actually a great conversationalist. With my... self. Together, we ask the big questions.

[ and wow, she's pretty. wow. okay.

stiles pauses and shakes his head, glancing down at the bat. ]

Uh, what? This? Nah, this is life insurance. I have to make sure you're not gonna rip my head off. [ he peers at her. ] You aren't, are you? Because I'm really attached to my head.

[ ba dum tsh. no, seriously, not okay with the killing. ]

[itase]

[She gives a couple claps for the masterful show of punnery. Really, bro? Really.]

Have that many women tried to murder you, really? Even before you actually cooked for them?

[omicron]

[ really really. he makes a dramatic show of counting on his fingers: ]

One, two, and that time with the dumpster, so—three-ish. Probably more to come, if this war thing is as legit as the lady said it was. [ he shrugs. ] I lead a harsh and unforgiving life.

And the only person I cook for is my dad, so.

[ stiles walks forward, looking up, around. it's actually pretty swank, for what amounts to a prison. he could get used to it. he guesses.

his gaze falls back on darcy. ]

Sooo. What's there to do around here, anyway?

[itase]

From the sound of your existence? Same old, same old. Hang around, nap, eat, try to avoid the things trying to destroy you.

[Well, no point standing in the middle of the room. She flops back onto the couch, kicking her feet up on one of the armrest.]

Now what was that about a dumpster?

[omicron]

Been there, done that, got the t-shirt.

[ if he had a bag to drop, or any packed materials, he'd let them slide off his shoulder and onto the floor without a second thought. but this? this is not band camp.

he walks forward, slipping the bat out of his belt loop and swinging it up onto his shoulder. he's not sure if he should sit, or... what, so he just stands, looking around. ]

Long story. High school woes. You know, the usual.

[ severely abbreviated, but the werewolf thing can wait. forever, if need be. ]

[itase]

Are you the child from The Never Ending Story? Or is that before your time, junior?

Also. Kitchen is thata way.

[A in no way subtle, full arm point towards the kitchen comes with that gesture.]

[omicron]

[ who're you calling junior, cougartown? ]

Okay, first of all? Never said it didn't end. Just that it was long.

[ he pauses, concedes. ] Or a work in progress. The most recent chapter title could be something like [ he spreads his hands ] Bodysnatchers Revisited: Electric Boogaloo.

[ then he mock points, eyebrows raised. ]

Don't you think I should move in before catering to your every delicate culinary need?

[itase]

You're here, you own nothing else, hey. You're moved.

[Such an innocent (not at all) grin.]

And there's nothing to settle in with like a nice, big meal.