bakerstreet | it's raining, it's pouring

it's raining, it's pouring

caught in the rain

It started out quietly, and then, quite suddenly, you're caught in a storm. Time to find cover. Nothing much to do but to wait it out.

Scenarios listed below for those who want 'em.

i WHERE:
001 PLAYGROUND - Well, you can try to hide under the slide or maybe in the jungle gym... at least you're some place fun?
002 PARK - Always happens, caught outside trying to take advantage of the weather... and it ends up pulling a fast one on you.
003 STORE FRONT - Better hope they have an awning you can take advantage of
004 THE BEACH - Not exactly the best place to be during a rainstorm, however it is possible to get caught in a sudden storm
005 WILD CARD - Anyway you want it

ii HOW:
001 TREE - Not the best cover, but it'll have to do, stay close to the roots and you won't get too wet.
002 UMBRELLA - Most conventional... Kinda boring. But it works.
003 NEWSPAPER - Not permanent, but it'll have to do. Good luck
004 BAG - Well... y'gotta do what you gotta do.
005 NONE - You know what. You're a rebel. You don't need cover. Screw convention
006 WILD CARD - that's the way you need it

iii WHY:
001 REJECTED - Welp. Rejection sucks. And no one will see you crying in the rain.
002 WAITING - For the bus? For someone else? For some revelation? What are you waiting for.
003 MELANCHOLY - Sometimes the best place to feel a bit down is out in the rain.
004 HAPPINESS - Is everything going your way? Are you singing a refrain while walking down the lane? Just singin. Singin' in the rain.
005 ANGER - WELL YOU KNOW WHAT. SCREW YOU TOO RAIN.
006 WILD CARD - Anyway you want it.

>> POST with your character
>> TAG others, use RNG if you need to, or just make up your own scenario if you want!
>> HAVE FUN.

(from here.)

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Yeah, that might've cheered me up a little.

[She gives him a weak grin at that and nods toward the bathroom as she holds up a pair of long men's shorts she wears when she's working out because she doesn't sweat at much in them. With them in her hand, is a ratty old t-shirt that might be a little tight, but might fit if he's lucky.]

Towels in the bathroom. Bring the wet clothes out with you, I'll throw 'em in the dryer.

[There's a moment when he just looks at her, surprised at the offer and then a little unsure because, hey, he wasn't too sure about that shirt...

But it was that or either sit in wet clothes or leave her alone and he wasn't sure he was comfortable doing the latter in the state she was in. So he came over and took the clothes, holding them away from himself as he went into the bathroom and changed.

Then came to the dilemma of 'to throw the boxers in with the rest of his clothes or not'. That would leave him pretty bare and he wasn't sure that commando was what these shorts were best for. The shirt was a bit tight in the arms and stomach, but a little loose around the chest. Right. Boobs. Okay, that made sense.

Sighing, he wrung out the clothes, boxers included, and bundled them up, dressed in her shorts and shirt and feeling decidedly uncomfortable. He needed, like, a blanket. Or five. Yes. More layers. Give him all the layers.]

Where's the dryer?

[Stiles is a little faster getting himself dried off and dressed than Dara anticipates and she has to whirl to put her bare back to the door when she hears it opening, because she's changed into a pair of night shorts, but she's still sopping the moisture out of her hair with one of the towels she'd left in the bedroom before leaving.

Without obviously turning to face him as she continues wringing her hair out into the towel with one hand, Dara gestures toward the laundry nook with her other arm.]

Just toss them in, I still have to put my stuff in, so don't start it, yet, okay?

Shit...

[He turns just as quickly, spinning so quickly he almost walks back into the door.]

Sorry. Sorry. I didn't, ah... I didn't know. That you were...

[Naked? Naked. She'd been naked and he'd definitely seen sideboob.]

I didn't see anything.

[LIE. But he sort of started to shuffle in the direction she'd gestured, pointedly looking away from her as he went.]

Yeah, yeah. Okay. No turning me on. It on. The machine. Hah. Got it. Right.

[The littlest uptick in Stiles' heartbeat when he says he didn't see anything catches her attention, but Dara writes it off because he's thrown off by what she can only assume are nerves because he knows she can easily kick his ass if she feels so inclined. If it had been his fault that he'd walked in on her still half undressed, she probably would, too, but she knows that was her own fault for underestimating how quick he'd be in and back out of the bathroom.

She does, however, throw an incredulously amused look over her shoulder at the slip up when he's talking about not turning on the dryer.]

Just...stay over there for a minute.

[As soon as he's out of sight, Dara lets the towel drop to the floor and she finishes getting dressed, although it's just Stiles so, really she doesn't bother with digging out a bra, she just puts on her shirt and pulls her hair up into a messy bun to get it out of her face. The collar is cut off the shirt because she works out in it a lot and she likes those shirts to be loose, so it falls down one of her shoulders, leaving that bare as she looks around the room for a blanket that isn't already on her bed. She's still cold; Stiles probably is, too, she's betting.]

All right, it's safe.

[Dara gives up the search for a blanket that isn't already on the bed and just drags the comforter off of it, crossing the room and dropping it onto the couch before doubling back to grab her wet clothes to put in the dryer with Stiles' things.]

Edited 2014-05-30 07:09 (UTC)

[He remembered, belatedly, that she could hear lies and mentally kicked himself in the ass. He should have reworded that, but he was sort of caught off guard, not expecting to see anything out of the ordinary and faced with werewolf boob instead. Nice werewolf boob, but he was also a teenage boy and all boobs were nice boobs.

He tossed his stuff in the dryer and stayed there, looking up out of his thoughts of trying not to think about boobs, werewolf boobs in specific, when she walked in.]

Right. Sure. Okay. I'll uh...

[What, walk past her? Walk behind her? Would she think he was staring at her ass now that he--

He was over thinking this. It was an accident, plain and simple. If she hadn't decked him for it by now, she wasn't going to.]

Um... Couch? Couch.

[Dara moved past Stiles and bent to shove her wet clothes into the dryer while also pulling the drawer built in underneath open so that she could toss a dryer sheet in as well. Without looking up at him right away, she dug out a couple of the sheets and tossed them into the dryer, straightening up belatedly after she'd started to speak, eyes narrowed just slightly with suspicion.]

Why are you being all weird? Stop it.

[The command was matter-of-fact, as if it was something she thought that Stiles ought to be able to just turn off like flicking off a light switch. She closed the dryer and turned it on, setting the timer for an hour and a half because two pairs of jeans were going to take a while to completely dry, no matter how small the load of clothes in total was.]

Yeah, couch, that's fine. There's a blanket, I'm freezing, I don't know about you.

Weird? Who's being weird? I'm not being weird.

[Said the guy who'd just had to pull his eyes away from looking at her butt. Okay, seriously, maybe he had a fever or something. He'd been around Dara a million times before and sure, yeah, he'd noticed that she was attractive and built, but she could also rip his throat out and had threatened to do so on more than one occasion.]

Yeah, cold. Freezing. Blanket's... good.

[He moved back out into the room with the couch, looking at it and coming to the dawning realization that she must mean to share the blanket. With him. Shit. Okay. It was time to think the most unsexy thoughts he could, not just to keep from... reacting, but because if she was like Scott, she'd be able to pick up on any, um, pheromonal changes. No bueno.

He took the far side of the couch, pulling a corner of the blanket over his lap. There. That should be okay, right?]

...right...

[To be fair, Stiles was always a little weird, if you asked Dara. He was just being more awkward than she was used to and she was starting to think that uptick had been a tell for a lie; that he actually had seen something before she'd managed to finish turning around. It still surprises her that he's acting strangely about it. They're friends, he's probably seen boobs before, this isn't even a thing. It shouldn't be, anyway, the way she sees it.

She thinks nothing of sharing a blanket because if it's big enough to cover her whole bed, it should be more than enough to cover the two of them. Though, for someone who says he's freezing, he doesn't appear to be doing a very good job using the blanket to warm up, she thinks to herself as she sinks onto the middle cushion of the couch, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping the other end of the blanket around herself.

Looking over at Stiles, she lifts her eyebrows and offers him a small smile.]

...thank you. For looking for me. At least someone was. I caught your scent when I first got here. No more breaking into the loft, though. Not cool.

[He is freezing, skin cool to the touch and still damp, but he's sort of half afraid of getting too close, just in case whatever's triggered this weird train of thought goes off again when he's in punching proximity. Sorry, Dara, but he hasn't exactly seen a lot of real boobs. Porn didn't count.

He pulled his knees up, blanket tucked around his feet now, eyes focusing on the windows instead of her.]

Sorry, but I had to. I didn't know if you were hurt or just... off. I'd kind of hate myself if I just didn't look in here while you were hurt on the floor or something because of manners.

[In spite of herself, Dara dips her head down and smiles a little at that, eyebrows lifting to indicate that she's both surprised and a little impressed. She hadn't really thought of it that way, but he has a good point. She can heal, but she's not invincible, even she knows that. After a moment, she looks back over at Stiles and nods. It seems like a good enough explanation for violating her privacy, considering the fact that she'd gone off without so much as a word for days.]

You just think of everything, don't you?

[Dara turns on her couch cushion to face him so that she can curl herself up against the back of the couch comfortably, leaning her head against it and closing her eyes.]

Honestly, I didn't think anybody would notice I was even gone so long as it was less than a week. [She yawns a little and finishes her train of thought before opening her eyes again.] You'd have made a good packmate when I was still an alpha.

Kind of have to.

[He answers without thinking, then turns when she moves, not really sure what she's going to do until he sees her getting more comfortable and closing her eyes.

Good. Because now he could look at her without worrying that she was somehow going to figure out what he was thinking. He shook his head, even though she couldn't see it at that moment. Then she makes the packmate comment and he feels that weird feeling flip-flopping in his chest like it had when Peter had offered.]

Yeah, probably not. I recall someone mentioning how I never listen and just do whatever I want. Not sure I'd be too good at following rules, wolf ones or not.

[The immediate response that comes to mind is one that Dara intentionally bites back because it hurts. Because my betas were so good at following the rules... It isn't entirely fair, because she knows she was rough on them and largely blames that on Erica and Boyd's decision to defect, resulting eventually in their deaths. But the thought pops into her head anyway and then she feels badly. She misses them, too. Most of all, she misses Isaac. He'd always been her favorite. Isaac had been the first one to take the bite successfully and he'd always been loyal, right up until she'd forced him out of the pack for his own safety. To this day, she wishes she'd gone about trying to keep him alive in another way.

She can sense that the throwaway comment meant to be a compliment to his loyalty to someone she doesn't really think he even officially considers a friend makes Stiles uncomfortable, so she clarifies, adding a reminder in with it.]

...I can't still do it, Stiles, relax. Anyway, I just meant... Whatever. Being in a pack isn't about following rules, it's about having each other's backs. How ironic is it that the only one who still has my back is a human from McCall's pack? I must be the laughing stock of all alphas everywhere. My sister must be rolling in her grave.

Edited 2014-05-30 08:10 (UTC)

Right, because Alphas are suddenly the epitome of werewolf coolness. Sorry, Dara, but the ones I've seen? Most of them have sucked.

[Peter, Dara during full dick mode, Deucalion, the twins, Kali, Ennis... the count wasn't looking good for moderate or loving nurturing Alphas for him. Scott was the only one he trusted and that might stem from the fact that he'd been the only one who hadn't had to kill someone to get where he was. That and, hey, bro.]

But think about it this way, if any Alphas are laughing at you, just tell them that the stupid human's the one who helped set wolf monster Peter on fire. Come on, that's gotta give me some wolf-cred.

The ones you've seen were a perversion of what it means to be an alpha and I was a joke. My sister and my mom were really alphas. They'd be really disappointed in me.

[She frowns at Stiles' apparent need to remind her that he's not just some stupid human and she shakes her head against the back of the couch.]

That wasn't a slam on you for being a human, Stiles. It's a reminder that I built a whole pack and for what? Erica and Boyd are dead, Jackson's gone, and Isaac integrated into a new pack without even questioning me when I sent him away. And Cora only feels safe when she's in a completely different country than me. I turned four people, found my baby sister I thought was dead, and I'm still alone. I'm just always...going to be, because maybe I'm supposed to be.

[Dara's eyes close again and her brow creases a little in the center. Laura never turned anyone. Dara doesn't remember their mother ever doing it, either. Maybe Laura was the only one who ever really learned what it really meant to be an alpha. Sometimes Dara wondered if she'd been a True Alpha, in retrospect, but she hadn't known anything about that back then when Laura was alive to ask. Just because they had the power to turn humans didn't mean that they should. She wishes she'd made that realization before she'd ruined the lives of four teenagers.]

I should've left it. I shouldn't have taken his spark. That was a mistake that cost a lot of lives and that I have to live with for the rest of my life. No wonder I'm Omega again.

[She opens her eyes again and looks back at Stiles.]

You wanna know why I was really out at the house? Because every once in a while, I feel like I owe it to them to apologize. So, I go out there and I do, over and over, because it's my fault.

[At that, she's still looking in Stiles' direction, but it's more like she's looking right through him.]

...the fire was my fault.

Edited 2014-05-30 08:25 (UTC)

No, Dara. The fire was Kate's fault. You can't seriously blame yourself for something you didn't do.

[Except he knew she could and did. She'd gone from the swaggering bitchy braggart that had been turning teenagers to build a paper doll army to some... self loathing emo wolf. Not that he'd ever say that to her face. Or her back. Nope, that was staying in his head.]

Kate was the one that used you. Kate was the one who took her little hunter buddies and killed kids. That's not on you.

[Advice he should listen to himself, not that he would. He still woke up screaming sometimes, seeing his hands doing things he couldn't control, knowing that his body was planning to hurt people he loved. But that was different. That had been him. Sort of.]

You're not meant to be alone, Dara. You've got me. You've got Scott-- don't wrinkle your nose at that. You two need to work out that chest puffy wolf thing, but you two have each other.

[Dara shakes her head and sighs. Stiles understands what she means, she knows he does, because of the nogitsune. It was essentially the same thing, the both of them share guilt for something they couldn't control but for which they still felt responsible. And still he's telling her that it wasn't her fault, letting all of the blame fall on Kate even when Dara knows she still holds some responsibility for having made it so damn easy.]

You know what? Never mind. I really thought you of all people would get it, but this is why I go to the house. I can say it and get it off my chest and nobody's there to tell me I'm wrong. Forget it.

And I don't have you, Stiles. And I don't want Scott. Scott just reminds me of the person I was and what I could've been if I hadn't lost everything because I was stupid when I was your age. It's not about a chest puffy wolf thing anymore, not for me. You don't get it, so just...let's just sit here and be quiet and get warm and then you can go, because now you know I'm alive or whatever.

Edited (phone tagging sucks) 2014-05-30 18:55 (UTC)

You realize you're the most confusing person in the entire existence of the known universe, right? You go to a house full of ghosts so that no one will tell you you're wrong because somewhere in there, you know you are. You're not a complete failure, Dara. Jesus. You know why you don't talk about this with people? Because they'll argue the point and try to make you realize that this isn't all on you. Which you don't want because it makes everything easier for you to just be the bad guy. Sure, excuse all your behavior because you did shitty, stupid things when you were a kid. Like no one in the world has ever done anything stupid or naive or let themselves be used when they were younger and didn't know any better.

Nope, just you. You have the monopoly on shitty teenage mistakes.

You thought I'd get it? I do get it. But you don't get that--

You know what? Never mind. Clearly you're already set on having a pity party and you don't actually want to get over it or get better. My bad. I guess just existing is enough for you. So sorry for trying to get you to see past that blanket of emo you've wrapped yourself in.

[Had he lost his mind? Probably. He glared at her for a moment, then wrapped his arms around his knees, turning his head away from her. She wanted to sit here in quiet? Fine. They could sit here in quiet.]

[Dara opens her mouth to protest because he's acting like she's using the mistakes she made leading up to the fire to justify the mistakes she made with her pack when she was still an alpha and that's not how it is. In reality, she just can't seem to stop making mistakes.

He doesn't get it, after all. It isn't like she feels like this all the time, because she doesn't. But then, she supposes there's really no way for Stiles — or any of them — to know that because none of them give enough of a shit to bother to ask. ...and that's fine. Dara prefers being alone, anyway, because everything she touches turns to shit and she knows that, now.

But then he says he guesses just existing is enough for her, because Stiles doesn't know that every day she's alive and her family isn't, she wishes she'd been in that house so that at least if she had a hand in it, she went down with them. Dara throws off the blanket and gets off the couch.]

Fuck you, Stiles.

[She heads out onto the balcony, under the awning, watching the rain come down in sheets from her dry spot just outside the huge window that takes up most of the wall of the loft. He can stay in there or he can leave, but she doesn't even want to look at him just now, because just existing is the worst part of it all. There is no getting better. There are good days, she'll admit that. A lot of them, really, but she's careful not to let anybody see those. She keeps those good days close to her chest so no one can take them away from her.

She's not good at bursting with happiness when she's having a good day, because if people know it, they can knock it out from under her. If she keeps those fleeting moments a secret, she can keep them and ride them out until the days like today roll around again. She's talking to him when he can't hear her at all over the rain and through the window as she watches the sky light up with flashes, fingers of lightening licking across the nearly black clouds.]

You don't know me at all.

[Well, that didn't go as expected, though frankly, he'd had no idea how she was going to react. He was angry, annoyed, frustrated, confused, and she wasn't helping.

He should just go. He should get his things and go and just leave her alone like she seems to want.

But when has he ever done what he should do. He's a stupid, stupid human and okay, maybe a bit sexist because she was upset and a girl and he couldn't just leave.]

You ever think the reason for that is because you don't ever tell anyone anything?

[Yep, this was going to happen. He was going to open his mouth and wind up dead because he couldn't leave well enough alone.]

When do you ever talk to anyone? I don't know you? You don't know me. Or Scott. Or Isaac. Or anyone. You just see the outside layer and that's good enough for your purposes. You don't take the time to get to know anyone, Dara, you just throw shit at them until they either take it and like it or leave. Is that a werewolf thing or just a bitch thing?

[He was a dead man.]

[The sound of Stiles behind her makes her turn and she's fuming the more he talks. Every word that's coming out of his mouth makes her want to throw him through that goddamn window behind them. And the worst part is...he isn't even wrong about a single thing he's saying.

She's seeing red and doesn't even realize that she's grabbed him by the collar of the borrowed shirt and pushed him up against the side of the building to which the balcony is attached until it's already done and she's up in his face, jaw set and nostrils flaring with the effort to keep from doing something exceptionally stupid she'll regret later. Like throwing him over the side to shut him the fuck up. She's shaking, but it's with rage less than cold. Part of her wants to point out that it's obviously not a werewolf thing since Scott and Isaac don't seem to have this problem, but she doesn't, because that's admitting she's just a bitch and there's nothing more to it when she still thinks there is.

Dara doesn't tell people things anymore, because she doesn't trust anyone anymore. It isn't for nothing; it's a conditioned response to others learned over time the hard way. She doesn't actually think it's so far-fetched that she's terrified to let people in, now, after everything she's been through. And while she isn't discounting all the things that the others have been through recently, her issues are spread over almost a decade's worth of time now. It's a difficult habit to break and even if she wanted to, she's sure it'd find a way to bite her in the ass later, just like it always does.

Looking almost like she's coming back into herself, Dara lets go of Stiles' shirt, blinking rapidly as she's stepping away from him, like she can't actually believe she's regressed this far. It's been a long time since she'd had Stilinski pinned against a locker in the high school, up in his face with rage. Dara doesn't want to be that girl anymore.]

I'm...sorry. Sorry.

[Running a hand over her hair and bringing it down to cover her slack-jawed mouth, she turns away from him to collect herself, because that wasn't okay, what she just did, and she knows it.]

Stiles, I'm sorry.

[Was he afraid? Hell yes. It wasn't the first time Dara had slammed him into something and he felt that shiver of fear like ice in the pit of his stomach. That didn't mean he was going to back down. He saw that look in her face, that one that she got when she wanted to do something painful and physically impossible to him, but it was just a flicker. A moment of that look in passing before something that looked an awful lot like regret took its place.

Then she was letting him go and... wait, apologizing? Okay, that was a first.

He smoothed down the shirt, looking at her and trying to figure out the best thing to say that wouldn't gain him any new scars.]

Dara...

[He sighed, hands scrubbing through his hair.]

You need to find someone to talk to. Someone you can trust, because there are things you just... you won't hear because you're so... because it's too easy to just picture yourself as the bad guy. Because it's easier to remember all the bad things you've done than to focus on anything good.

[Yes, that was experience talking.]

[Stiles says it like that's so easy. Like it's so easy to just tune out all of the bullshit and pretend it's not terrifying to even think about letting someone in. He probably doesn't know it, but he's the only person she trusts even a little, and even then, not enough to pour her heart out to by any stretch.

She doesn't want to look at him when she admits the following, so she doesn't. It's tempting to step back into the rain to cool off, because her face is hot with residual anger and, now, humiliation.]

I can't...

Yes you can.

Find someone, Dara. Deaton, Scott, Me, Jackson... Peter, if you have to. Hell, go find a therapist and unload to your heart's content. Online anonymous comms. I don't care. But... you need to talk to someone. You need...

[His fingers went to the hem of the shirt, playing with it as he fidgeted while looking at her back.]

You need someone, okay? And you can have someone if you want. You just...

You gotta want it.

[Shaking her head and finally turning back to face him, Dara's brow is knit with a mixture of frustration and general upset.]

No, I can't. It's not that easy. I can't just turn it off, Stiles, I can't just turn off the fact that I'm—

[She almost admits that she's scared and cuts herself short before she can say it. Then, she barrels into the cover with only a minor hiccup in between the sentiment meant and the one actually delivered.]

I can't trust people. There's no magic switch I can just flick and pretend that I'm not opening myself up to being burned again. I wish there was, I really do. But there isn't, I can't just stop...feeling like I do. You know?

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lmfao awww that Freudian slip

I figured it was appropriately Stiles.

totally was lol

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