bakerstreet | The Road Trip meme.

The Road Trip meme.

These guys quit their jobs right before their epic trip.

The Road Trip Meme

How To:
1. Post with your character and the usual information in the subject line and/or comment box. Be sure to include preferences!
2. Others tag you, and will you look at that, you're now on a road trip together! For some reason.
3. Optionally, roll from 1-16 to get your scenario.
4. Have fun and be excellent to each other.

Taken and slightly modified from this previous meme.

1: LOST You should have made a "left toin at Albuquerque," or maybe you've been holding the map upside down this whole time! Whatever it is, you're hopelessly LOST. Will you make it back on the path to your destination, or will you find a new adventure? Try not to open any hatches.

2: Tourist Trap Okay, you're all for seeing the sights, but World's Biggest Doorstopper? World's Smallest Chicken? World's Noisiest Whistle? Do we really have to stop here, too?

3: Car Trouble Maybe you got a flat tire. Maybe your engine's stalled. Or maybe you just overestimated how far you could get on a half tank of gas. Either way, you're broke down on the side of the road and the nearest station is miles away; either fix it yourself or you better get behind it and push!

4: Bad Weather Driving in the rain? No problem. Driving in torrential downpours or a blinding blizzard? Big problem! Better find a way to get out of the storm fast!

5: When Ya Gotta Go... Didn't I tell you to go before we left? Well, even if you did, maybe you shouldn't have had that 44 ounce Super Big Gulp, because there's not another rest stop for miles. Maybe you can find an empty bottle in the back...

6: Road Delays Stuck in traffic? Stuck at road construction? Stuck in a funeral procession? Bridge out? Whatever it is, it's blocking your way. Do you wait patiently, or maybe find your own way around it?

7: Smokey and the Bandit Oh no, those blue lights behind you can't be good. Maybe you should just pull over and accept your speeding ticket like a decent citizen. Or, maybe you should floor it. High speed chase anyone?

8: Night Driving You decided to drive through the night, and now it's one AM and you're all out of coffee. Wake up a friend and make them help you stay awake; falling asleep at the wheel is dangerous!

9: Ghost Town Boy, this town sure is quiet. And... kind of creepy. Oh God, did something in those corn rows just move? I hear banjo music; CAN'T YOU DRIVE ANY FASTER?!

10: Roadkill Good going, you hit an animal. I sure hope you feel good about yourself. Now you've killed the poor- oh, it's still moving? What do we do now!?
10a: The I Know What You Did Last Summer Edition That animal you hit was a little more human than you care for... oh dear...

11: ROAD RAGE That jerk cut me off! How dare he!? I'll make him pay! Or maybe you cut off a less-than-friendly driver of your own, and now he's after you...

12: Carjacked Awww, that was a good lunch. ...Wait, I know this is where we parked... Dude, where's the car!?!?

13: Hitchhiking Who said you needed a car for a road trip? Stick that thumb out and catch a ride where you're going. Maybe you and a buddy are chillin' with the pigs in a trailer, or maybe that nice looking hitchhiker you picked up down the road is not as nice as you thought...

14: Fantasy Car Roads? Where you're going, you don't need roads. If you're in Doc's DeLorean, anyway. Or maybe the car is really Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Or KITT. Or the Batmobile. Or a Transformer! Whatever it is, this car is NOT normal.

15: Road Head Obligatory sex-in-the-car option. Pulling over is the better and safer idea but some people just can't stop...

16: Are We There Yet? Roller's choice! Pick your favorite option, or two, or three, or just roll with whatever feels right!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Lydia.

[ this time a bit more forceful, because he hates it when he ignores him, and he doesn't grab her, but he gets in her way a little. he looks down at her, sucks his lower lip into his mouth for a moment, because being cared about, having someone look out for him, even in the smallest of ways? hurts like a bitch. ]

Thank you.

[ and then he gets out of her way. she's gonna have a shower and he'll probably need to distract himself from that or else all his earlier hard work will be undone, so he focusses on dragging his suitcase over to his makeshift "bed", using some clothes to plump it up even though he's pretty sure it's going to be the most uncomfortable thing in the world. he strips off his hoodie, too: there's central heating in the motel room, and it'll make a pretty good pillow. then the just lays on his bed and plugs his phone onto the charger and screws around with a touch-screen game. ]

[ she doesn't bother to say you're welcome, because that would be admittance to having gone out of her way to be nice to him, which could completely devalue all those years she'd spent ignoring him. if she was to ever go out for a job that required her to ignore someone, stiles would be her prime reference and a testimony to her dedication. ]

[ he's tall enough that she has to tilt her chin up - like when she goes to kiss jackson - to look him in the face, but if she is not going to give him much of a response but to shrug her shoulders and skirt past him to the bathroom, she can at least deign to look him in the eyes. there may be the slightest nod too, but she's quick to seclude herself in the tiled room that smells of heat, soap and bleach residue. ]

[ a long shower seems well deserved, and she runs the water to warm up the small room before stripping and climbing in. she washes her hair (lathers, rinses and repeats included) and her body, then simply allows the water to fall around her and enjoys the heat. time slips away as quickly as the water swirling the drain, and it's just when her fingers begin to wrinkle like raisins that she pulls the knob and shuts off the water. ]

[ toweling dry, slipping into her pajamas and wrapping her head into a towel, she exits the bathroom in a much more relaxed calm. everything was working out - it wasn't ideal, but it was fine and wouldn't happen in the next motel, nor on the way back. ]

[ so really there was nothing to worry about except turning off the light and crawling into bed. ]

Don't forget to set your alarm.

Kay.

[ he does it right then and there, because otherwise he'll mean to but it'll get lost in the other thought processes and eventually forgotten. he sets the phone up on the windowsill, stretching so his shirt rides up, because if it's not a little hard to get to he'll just roll over and turn it off in his sleep. ]

Night, Lydia.

[ he thinks it's probably best to keep quiet, so that she can forget he's there. but the couch cushions and sham pillows and wadded towels and hoodie and even the comforter wrapped around him still all add up to a lumpy bed. he's too hot, and then he's too cold, and if he sleeps on his side the couch cushions slide apart, but if he sleeps on his stomach his spine bends in a weird way, and sleeping on his back seems like it's just asking for trouble: snoring and morning wood, to name just a few embarrassments. ]

[ stiles tosses and turns, exhausted to the bone but somehow unable to get to sleep. he should have taken the jeep; it would have at least been familiar in its discomfort. ]

Night.

[ she finishes drying her hair in the mostly-dark, but doesn't have the drive to pick her way through the room by the light of the parking lot lights that still manage to infiltrate the room through the shades in order to return the towel to the bathroom. the side of the bed proves the best place for the damp cloth and, suddenly cold after divesting it, lydia makes short work of climbing into bed and curling up. ]

[ sleep comes easy enough, but it's a light sleep; she doesn't even remember falling asleep, but the dream she remembers because the dream is familiar. ]

[ there are claws dragging along horribly burned backs, ripping at the blackened skin that reminds her of nothing because they do not include pictures like this in text books and news segments. there are teeth so large and sharp that they tear through petrified, heat-dried lips when they elongate. human mouths open wider than they're supposed to, but then again they're supposed to be human but not, and peter hale keeps showing up in her bed covered in worms and dirt. when he strokes her hair, it falls out, and he coos to her that she doesn't have to be beautiful so long as she's smart and does what she's told. ]

[ sometimes these dreams take sexual routes and always end up with her standing naked in the middle of the lacrosse field, sometimes with sheriff stilinski's coat around her shoulders and hospital bracelet around her wrist. it's always winter time in her dream and their breath curls in the air in the most realistic way. it scares her and she always closes her eyes and wills herself to wake up once she realizes it's a dream. ]

[ but tonight her dream is violent and ends with the bloody scene that could have been her birthday party and a very, very human peter ripping out her throat in the pool. in her dream it hurts all the much more because he is human, his teeth blunt, and so normal looking it challenges the truth of werewolves as she's come to know them: scott is still babyfaced when he's human, and jackson still surprises her by sneaking up and putting his hands on her hips when her back is turned. it's when peter turns into jackson, and when jackson's face starts petrifying and turning scaly again that she wakes up. ]

[ wakes up and sits bolt upright. she doesn't scream anymore, but there's a sort of strangled gurgle that is ripped from her vocal chords and swallowed down the wrong way. it hurts and she touches her throat with trepidation, expecting it to come away bloody and only feeling the blood of her pulse and the harsh breathing that is trying to regulate and soothe her. ]

[ looks like he is victorious. quiet, low to the ground, and not a werewolf - so he continues to slip under her radar, just like usual. she's completely forgotten he's even there. ]

[ stiles hears the noise, even if it's not a scream, and rolls again, then pushes himself up, peeking over the edge of the bed to see that she's sitting up in the dark. her hand is at her throat and he may not be a werewolf but he can still hear her breathing, a repetitive rasp in the dark. ]

Lydia?

[ his voice is tentative, bleary, and he pulls himself into a proper sitting position. he wants so badly to hold her, tell her it'll be okay. ]

Hey, Lydia, it was just a dream, okay? You're safe. You're safe here with me.

[ as though he was a real bastion of protection. if a werewolf or a hunter came crashing through their motel window, what the hell could he do? but right now he thinks the only danger is her fear, and that he can fight with all he's got. ]

[ laugh when you're hurting; that's a coping mechanism she'd think he'd understand. in light of how little her simple dismissal seems to work anymore, it's time to try something new. ]

[ so she laughs, but it's dark and devoid of any real humor. it's empty and rattling, and she has to actively will herself to stop to choke it off. he's a dark, lurking shadow alongside her bed, and it's terrifying. her lips press tight and eyes blink furiously to beat back tears because these nightmares are not worthy of disturbing her - even if they still do. ]

Yeah right. Keep telling yourself that, Stiles.

[ she does not mean to be hurtful, but safety is a lie and he deserves to know that nothing is just a nightmare for long. ]

Edited 2012-11-30 22:35 (UTC)

I'm serious. Lydia...

[ despite feeling intrusive, he pulls himself up to sit beside her in the bed, fumbles for the bedside lamp. she's gorgeous, crying and sleep-rumpled and in her pyjamas, but that's... not the point right now. stiles' face is creased in concern, and he reaches for her hand. ]

I would rather die than let something happen to you. You get that, right?

[ lydia's reluctant to be touched. she curls her fingers into a white-knuckled fist and it's a good thing she spent so much time filing her nails while in the car and while he was in the shower because any longer and they might break the skin of her palms. he may manage just a brush of the fingers over her knuckles before she's pulling back, cradling it to her chest as if touching burned. ]

Yeah, I get it. That's very brave of you. We'd both be dead, but at least you were chivalrous about it.

I stopped him killing you. That night on the field. Just because—

[ he makes a frustrated noise, and drives a fist into the mattress. he's overtired, and this is a hang-up. ]

I don't need to have cool werewolf powers or- or whatever, okay? I'm not gonna let the people I love get hurt, and that's that.

[ what a stupid time to be arguing with her, but her coldness and sarcasm and the way she pulls away has left him upset and bitter. ]

If he wanted to kill me, I'd be dead.

[ because in the end, peter hale needed her. he probably didn't know to what extent at the time of the formal, but from what she had learned about werewolves and packs since then spanned several text books that had led her to two conjectures: ]

[ one: alpha's were stronger with a pack - though that was more fact than assumption because damn if no one hesitated to bring up. ]

[ and two: no human could stand up to an alpha werewolf unless they were armed up the wazoo and back like the argents always were. ]

[ lydia rolls her eyes but isn't really sure at what anymore aside from her own stupidity for still being upset about all this. maybe at him, too. because as boldly as he speaks, it's still stupid. ]

If you keep talking like that - and act on what you say -, you're just going to be the one who gets hurt. [ have a little self preservation and suck up the martyrdom; it's making her uncomfortable to sit so close to someone so selfless. ]

You think I care?

[ stiles looks over at her in the darkness, his heart hurting with the admission he normally keeps locked up inside himself. he doesn't want to get hurt or humiliated, but if he did, so what? he probably deserved it. there's nothing selfless in his masochism. ]

I'd rather be dead than standing at another freaking funeral, okay?

[ he chokes on the words, voice breaking, and he realizes his eyes have teared up. great. he didn't have a nightmare; he didn't even sleep. it's been a long day and he's tired and now the girl he likes thinks he's even more of an idiot because he's gonna cry in front of her. ]

[ stiles locks his jaw up tight, holds his breath, shoulders tense as he tries to hold off. ]

[ the realization that she is not the only person in this room suffering from repressed negative emotions hits like a ton of bricks, and lydia turns to look at him with a furrowed brow and parted lips that have nothing to do with the fact her nose is too stuffed up with emotional blockage and snot to let her avoid mouth breathing. ]

[ pity is an unwanted emotion between the two of them; she does not want his pity and she is pretty sure he wouldn't want hers - but they're sitting here, close to tears, and she's never seen him cry before. it's fair, technically, since she cried first in their sophomore year, and while she doesn't think tear puffed cheeks or a ruddy, tearful complexion do much for his features, it definitely makes him look vulnerable. ]

[ which probably isn't much better than pitiful. ]

You should care. [ but it's okay; her sniffles are pathetic too. ] You can't go around preaching that everyone else should value their lives if you don't.

Whatever, Lydia. I don't preach.

[ except for those times he gets angry and, well. does exactly that. ]

[ stiles scrubs furiously at his face, at his eyes, trying to cover the fact that a few tears have dripped free. he still feels all coiled up inside, like he's trying to hold back the floodgates on his emotion, and maybe he should just go out into the rain and scream it out, like he used to in freshman year. ]

Ah, fuck.

[ another paw at his eyes. he's not usually that vulgar, for all he says hell, damn, and ass every second word, and the cuss sounds resigned, a little broken. ]

I hate that they did this to you. That he did this.

[ whether he means jackson or peter is not entirely clear. but he's obviously taken a pretty good guess as to the content of the nightmares that are still waking her up after all this time. ]

Made you think you're weak, when - Lydia, you're on of the strongest people I know.

[ she remembers that night in his room with an arguable mix of clarity and blurriness, a little like a waking dream that she only truly snapped out of at that text that wasn't meant for her and the sound of claws rending skin, the sharp intake of breath of the dying and a pair of angry snarls. she remembers stiles howling at her face, trying to impress a sense of self-worth in her that was lacking when jackson was lacking in her life, and even now - even when they were dating again, and supposedly happy together even when he was distanced by werewolf responsibilities and she by human business. college, the future - the future that had previously included marrying her high school sweetheart, but she didn't know about that anymore. ]

[ of course, the future was changing and they'd yet to encounter a supernatural being with the ability to predict it. if she'd had to fancy a guess a few hours ago though, sitting in a motel bed with stiles and both of them crying had not been in her future either, so the idea fortune seemed to be ever changing. ]

[ he's talking, but just like that time before (before was an ever changing concept as well; before in the car and before two years ago seemed similar distances apart) she doesn't really want to listen to him. the general idea registers: he dismisses what she says (people do that a lot recently) and turns around to insist she's one of the strongest people he knows, but that only makes her blanch because she does not feel particularly strong. she feels more like seeking out reassurance. ]

Really?

[ and that's weak. ]

Hell yeah. You've made it through all this stuff...

[ and come out the other side relatively unscathed, though he sees now that the events of their beacon hills supernatural fun times have affected her more than she lets on. ]

[ stiles slides a little closer. he gets this, or he feels like he does. they're the humans of the group, and it's hard to stand next to the kind of power that their lycanthrope friends exude and not feel a little lesser. ]

I mean, you're strong in here.

[ he goes to point to her heart, but she's only in pyjamas and he thinks better of it, taps his own instead. ]

Even if you're not, like, a creature of the freaking night. But what's the alternative? End up like Derek? That dude can punch buildings, sure, but he is a mess, okay. Scott flunked out of high school. Jackson's gotta live with the blood on his hands for the rest of his life. It's scary as shit, but we're the lucky ones.

[ stuff. dark stuff, scary stuff, bloody stuff. stuff perpetuated by bodily changes, stuff dictated by the lunar cycle, and stuff that never goes how people planned. mccall was supposed to scrape by on a C- average, jackson was supposed to branch out and go to an out of state college on a lacrosse scholarship, and she was supposed to entertain the idea they were dating for a few months before "taking a break" because he's seeing another girl, but they'd get married after they reunited at a high school reunion. they were supposed to stay close but go their separate ways, and lahey, erica, boyd and derek hale were never supposed to be a real part of it. ]

[ but now they're pack - which bothers her to hear, even more to say, because why must they all insist on calling it pack like it is a definitive noun? leaving out a the or a doesn't make it sound anymore cohesive or meaningful or human because they distanced themselves from their animalistic backgrounds by making stylistic choices of identification terms - and they only ones moving away are she and stiles. the only people who are going to have to deal with their emotional baggage by themselves are she and stiles. ]

[ and he thinks she's strong. which is such laughable bullshit she might just have to cry. ]

[ her hands fall to her lap, and her lips curl in, pressed tight and refusing to quiver. ]

[ lydia sniffs, and in a very, very small voice: ]

I don't feel very lucky.

Edited (i forgot to small :() 2012-12-13 07:24 (UTC)

Well, you are. You're- you're smart and beautiful, and.

[ and immune, he wants to point out, but maybe he's the only one who thinks that's awesome. instead he's struck by genius, and he reaches down and grabs his pillow, the comforter, tossing the former onto the bed and wrapping himself in the latter as he speaks. ]

And you've got your uh, Stiles in shining armour right here to make sure any horrible beasties turn up, they eat him first.

[ he's nervous at being forthright, but it can't be forward to share the bed with her when they'll be wrapped in different covers, and unlikely to accidentally touch, right? besides, stiles needs sleep if he's gonna drive tomorrow, and he won't be getting any on the floor. ]

It'll seem easier in the morning, promise.

[ immune, they all whisper as if it's something great, when all it's gotten her is some weird social standing between weak and untouchable in their circle of friends. she's not a werewolf, and can never be one, and blah blah blah no one knows why. she no longer counts it lucky or unlucky, but it's a sore spot. ]

[ she'd brood on it if allowed to. but a rather timely distraction in the form of a stiles in shining armor - what the hell is a stiles in shining armor? - crops up and she's left gaping. ]

Uh, no. What are you doing?

[ because he's a burrito of blankets and talking about tomorrow and she's not sure which is more absurd - beasties or him. ]

[ probably him. ]

Going... to sleep?

[ he tries to make his tone sarcastic, but there's genuine hesitance underneath it, because this is a huge boundary-pushing risk. he's not even doing to to be in the bed with her, even though that's a nice bonus, and he fumbles to explain. ]

Look, I have to get up and get back behind the wheel in ohhh less than six hours? Max? So if you don't want us to crash and die tomorrow you're gonna let me stay right where I am, because your little makeshift bed was a sweet gesture but it wasn't really doing much to help me catch the z's. Kapish?

[ yeah, probably him. ]

[ sleep is a perfectly reasonable thing, lydia likes sleep - but she still stares at him like he's the abominable snowman in swim trunks. she parts her lips, narrows her eyes, and sizes him and his fumbled clarification up. ]

[ and maybe there's something to be said for catching z'a, for in her frazzled woken state, lydia is having difficulty finding fault or reason in his explanation. ]

If you touch me - [ she begins to threaten bodily harm, but her voice fails her and she swallows instead. ] Just... don't drool.

No promises.

[ stiles responds muzzily, nuzzling into his pillow. a beat. ]

On the— drooling thing.

[ not the touching thing: he's burritos himself too well for that to be an issue anyway. but he's a mouthbreather, there is likely to be copious amounts of drool on his pillow. he won't apologize for it; it's a motel pillow. even if it's drastically uncool and kinda gross. at least he won't dutch oven her? ]

Night, Lydia.

[ if he drools, i'll just take the jeep and leave him here, she decides. vindictiveness soothes her apprehension, and though her first clue that this is wrong should be the fact she's resolved not to tell jackson, lydia lays back down and pulls the sheet around herself tightly. ]

[ when she waits in silence for five seconds and the world doesn't explode, she lets out a rather ruffled sigh. ]

Goodnight.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The Road Trip meme.

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oh wait i excluded this from my chronological order whoops

yeah I was wondering what had happened here!!!

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