WHO: STILES STILINSKI, LYDIA MARTIN, DEREK HALE, and NICK BURKHARDT WHERE: Residence #023, Police Station WHEN: Week of July 15 WHAT: Stiles and Lydia being a detective team (again). WARNINGS: Stalking
I'm not going to murder you. [ Somewhere between incredulous and annoyed. See also: things he used to have to say once a week, getting kind of old. But even if the phrasing's less than ideal, the suggestion's still progress. Nick straightens and steps back from the desk slightly, and while the implication is that he's fine with following Stiles's suggestion, it's also him backing off; the gesture's meant to be placating while he waits to see how Lydia responds.
There isn't really a backup plan. Probably let them walk out; it's not like they've done anything wrong, strictly speaking — or at least nothing he wouldn't have done in their place. ]
[ Nick doesn’t get a second glance. Turning, Lydia offers Stiles her full attention, raking her eyes over his face as she tries to evaluate if she’s actually going to listen to him or continue to be stubborn. ]
[ Honestly, the second option is still pretty tempting. ]
[ Sighing, she rolls her eyes, head lolling to either side a moment as she finally moves towards the interview room, keep the journal pressed to her chest and closing her free hand around Stiles’ wrist to tug him after her. ]
[ aaaand off we go. okay then. stiles basically just stumbles along after her, trying not to obviously have two left feet. he shoots a rueful look at nick, to demonstrate he has zero control over what's happening here. ]
[ obviously he's resigned himself to good cop today. ]
[ the moment the door closes behind them, stiles goes and twists the blinds so they're slotted horizontally, so it's possible to see in and out. the room is pretty soundproofed, so just in case they are about to get threatened with whatever the concealable version of a scythe is... ]
[ So the thing about interview rooms is Nick's used to acting a certain way in them. Dominating the room, asking the questions— it's kind of routine, and it takes a conscious effort not to fall into it now.
He ends up on the other side of the table for the sake of giving them plenty of space, and he takes a few seconds to weigh his options. There's no obvious tension on his end; very mild annoyance, maybe, but that's it until something else occurs to him. ] What did you do with them?
[ It's not like he's used the weapons since he's been here, but he's gotten more used to his aunt's inheritance than he'd like to admit. The idea of not even having those after everything else lends some genuine concern to his voice, slightly urgent. ]
[ stiles stops fidgeting with the blinds and paces instead, more agitated than lydia is, though he also keeps his distance from nick. ]
Why did you even have a freaking scythe? I mean, okay, some people like to keep a gun in their bottom drawer, I get that, but farming instruments do kind of give off a creepy slasher movie vibe.
It isn't mine. [ He just took it off of a dead guy he killed, it's fine. What were you saying about trophies?? Nick's obviously agitated by the flippant responses, but he stays where he is, keeping it to a look of mild annoyance.
But being terse isn't going to accomplish much, here, so after a reluctant pause: ] The scythe belonged to a Reaper. They hunt Grimms, which is what I am.
[ Normal sentences. He says it like he's explaining something from a textbook, tone direct. ]
[ She looks between Nick and Stiles like IS ANYONE GOING TO POINT OUT THE OBVIOUS JOKE HERE. ]
A Reaper that hunts Grimms? A grim reaper gave you that?
[ Wait. The sarcasm drains steadily out of her expression and she tilts her head towards Nick, prying gaze boring holes straight through him. She misses the days when the only time grim and reaper could possibly enter the same sentence was when she was planning a (figuratively) killer Halloween party. ]
... That's how it happened, isn't it? This one didn't just hunt you, it got you.
What? [ Nick's turn to lose track of the conversation. He shoots Stiles a quick and intensely confused look. ] No, I'm not a... dog from Harry Potter.
[ Possibly the dumbest thing he's ever said, which is saying something. Thanks, Stiles. He only belatedly realizes that Lydia's question is probably the more important one, here, and he attempts to school his expression into something more patient. ] And no. He didn't.
[ He doesn't say outright that it was the other way around, but the implication's obvious. Instead he continues with the definitions, trying to stay on topic— and maybe steer Lydia away from fixating on the reaper. ] Grimms can see what other people can't. We see people for what they really are, whether they want us to or not. [ A hesitant beat, then another chance. ] How well do you know Derek?
[ He's pretty sure they know exactly what he's getting at, given a few obvious jokes re: animal handling, but playing it safe. Ish. ]
Edited (typo game is strong tonight) 2014-08-04 06:17 (UTC)
[ Her tone is hard and unforgiving, even if she wouldn’t ever actually use that descriptor for their relationship in honesty. They are reluctant allies at best, and actively sabotaging one another at worst, but she comes up firmly on his side in this Nick situation and doesn’t want to give him any wiggle room to try and pry in that. Not now that she’s ~seen what she’s seen.~ ]
[ at least it's not "mentor". stiles gives lydia a look like, are you? because just how close is "close", right? but he doesn't contradict her, doesn't even laugh. they're close enough to know what derek truly is. ]
[ Lydia considers him for a moment, weighing that response, then turns her attention fully to Stiles as if she's writing Nick off entirely. The move is entirely calculated to bait more out of him, but she's a frighteningly good actress (and it helps that she routinely writes people off anyway). ]
He doesn't know anything. If the best he can do is 'not human,' this was a complete waste of our time.
[ Maybe she's a good actress because the annoyance, at least, is genuine. ]
[ stiles is pretty familiar with the complete and total dismissal lydia is hitting nick with. intimately familiar, actually. plenty of first hand experience. he feels for the guy, a tiny bit. buuut not enough to not play along. ]
[ It works, at least to the extent that his patience wears thin at the dismissive responses. As in he actually rolls his eyes, that kind of impatient; not very mature, but whatever. They're teenagers.
About half a second after Stiles's remark, directed at Lydia: ] I know he's a werewolf.
[ He doesn't know he's a werewolf. Nick knows Derek looks like Monroe, but Monroe laughed in his face when he called him a werewolf, so who knows. He's just banking on the idea that it's a more recognizable term than blutbad and not totally off the mark. The delivery's short and annoyed. ]
Whoa, whoa, whoa, who says he's doing anything about it?
[ stiles holds up his hands. like, let's not provoke the guy, here. ]
Listen, Nick, we're sorry we thought you were a serial killer.
[ or, stiles is, because, you know, there's the whole "employed by the police department at which nick works due to nick's assistance" thing that's kinda sweetened him to the guy. ]
But you don't hunt werewolves, right? Say that's not a thing that you do.
[ Oh my god why are teenagers so dramatic. Stiles interrupts before Nick can give Lydia an appropriately incredulous response, though the serial killer comment's only barely an improvement. ]
I don't hunt werewolves.
[ Followed by a conspicuous pause. Not necessarily because it's untrue; it is, though that's mostly because of semantics. Just for the sake of honesty: ] They don't even exist where I'm from.
[ Totally fell for it, though Nick's reluctant to admit outright that he didn't know. And while he's pretty sure Monroe would be deeply offended by this comparison, it's the easiest explanation, so. ] My friend's a blutbad. It's my world's version of a werewolf. I put it together when I saw Derek with the...
[ Wolf face?? Eyes? ] Sideburns?
[ Embarrassed on Derek's behalf tbh. ] But it's fine, I honestly don't care. As long as he doesn't start eating people, I don't have any— [ Actually. He doubts they'd rat out their "mentor", but it's worth asking. ] He's clean, right?
Vampires don't exist. And a lot of Wesen are cannibals, but it isn't... like I said, we don't have werewolves. Not exactly.
[ Maybe he'll just loan them the journal, it'd be easier than explaining. Nick pauses, glancing between them, and his tone's entirely light at this point; not even annoyed. ]
We can do the history lesson later. The important thing here is that I'm not a serial killer.
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maskormenacelogs2014-07-14 12:52 am
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There isn't really a backup plan. Probably let them walk out; it's not like they've done anything wrong, strictly speaking — or at least nothing he wouldn't have done in their place. ]
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[ Honestly, the second option is still pretty tempting. ]
[ Sighing, she rolls her eyes, head lolling to either side a moment as she finally moves towards the interview room, keep the journal pressed to her chest and closing her free hand around Stiles’ wrist to tug him after her. ]
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[ obviously he's resigned himself to good cop today. ]
[ the moment the door closes behind them, stiles goes and twists the blinds so they're slotted horizontally, so it's possible to see in and out. the room is pretty soundproofed, so just in case they are about to get threatened with whatever the concealable version of a scythe is... ]
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He ends up on the other side of the table for the sake of giving them plenty of space, and he takes a few seconds to weigh his options. There's no obvious tension on his end; very mild annoyance, maybe, but that's it until something else occurs to him. ] What did you do with them?
[ It's not like he's used the weapons since he's been here, but he's gotten more used to his aunt's inheritance than he'd like to admit. The idea of not even having those after everything else lends some genuine concern to his voice, slightly urgent. ]
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[ She says it blandly like that’s the dumbest question she’s ever heard. Her eyes roll up briefly and she leans back against the glass. ]
How is that your biggest concern here?
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Why did you even have a freaking scythe? I mean, okay, some people like to keep a gun in their bottom drawer, I get that, but farming instruments do kind of give off a creepy slasher movie vibe.
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But being terse isn't going to accomplish much, here, so after a reluctant pause: ] The scythe belonged to a Reaper. They hunt Grimms, which is what I am.
[ Normal sentences. He says it like he's explaining something from a textbook, tone direct. ]
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[ She looks between Nick and Stiles like IS ANYONE GOING TO POINT OUT THE OBVIOUS JOKE HERE. ]
A Reaper that hunts Grimms? A grim reaper gave you that?
[ Wait. The sarcasm drains steadily out of her expression and she tilts her head towards Nick, prying gaze boring holes straight through him. She misses the days when the only time grim and reaper could possibly enter the same sentence was when she was planning a (figuratively) killer Halloween party. ]
... That's how it happened, isn't it? This one didn't just hunt you, it got you.
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Isn't a Grimm like, the big black dog from Harry Potter?
[ squinting at nick like he might pull a Sirius and turn into a dog. ]
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[ Possibly the dumbest thing he's ever said, which is saying something. Thanks, Stiles. He only belatedly realizes that Lydia's question is probably the more important one, here, and he attempts to school his expression into something more patient. ] And no. He didn't.
[ He doesn't say outright that it was the other way around, but the implication's obvious. Instead he continues with the definitions, trying to stay on topic— and maybe steer Lydia away from fixating on the reaper. ] Grimms can see what other people can't. We see people for what they really are, whether they want us to or not. [ A hesitant beat, then another chance. ] How well do you know Derek?
[ He's pretty sure they know exactly what he's getting at, given a few obvious jokes re: animal handling, but playing it safe. Ish. ]
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[ Her tone is hard and unforgiving, even if she wouldn’t ever actually use that descriptor for their relationship in honesty. They are reluctant allies at best, and actively sabotaging one another at worst, but she comes up firmly on his side in this Nick situation and doesn’t want to give him any wiggle room to try and pry in that. Not now that she’s ~seen what she’s seen.~ ]
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So what is it you think you know about him, huh?
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I know he isn't human.
[ Very direct, maybe even slightly challenging. If they're going to run roughshod over his secrets, he'll do the same right back. ]
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He doesn't know anything. If the best he can do is 'not human,' this was a complete waste of our time.
[ Maybe she's a good actress because the annoyance, at least, is genuine. ]
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Yeahhhh I'm not buying any of this.
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About half a second after Stiles's remark, directed at Lydia: ] I know he's a werewolf.
[ He doesn't know he's a werewolf. Nick knows Derek looks like Monroe, but Monroe laughed in his face when he called him a werewolf, so who knows. He's just banking on the idea that it's a more recognizable term than blutbad and not totally off the mark. The delivery's short and annoyed. ]
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Lydia stops, whipping her head towards him, scrutinizing and confrontational all at once. ]
And what are you planning to do about it?
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[ stiles holds up his hands. like, let's not provoke the guy, here. ]
Listen, Nick, we're sorry we thought you were a serial killer.
[ or, stiles is, because, you know, there's the whole "employed by the police department at which nick works due to nick's assistance" thing that's kinda sweetened him to the guy. ]
But you don't hunt werewolves, right? Say that's not a thing that you do.
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I don't hunt werewolves.
[ Followed by a conspicuous pause. Not necessarily because it's untrue; it is, though that's mostly because of semantics. Just for the sake of honesty: ] They don't even exist where I'm from.
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[ Like bitch how do you know that for sure. Except for being a zombie and a hunter probably helps. ~Whatever.~ ]
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[ because if they've fallen for the oldest trick in the book, of confirming a risky guess, then he's gonna... be really mad, ok. ]
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[ Wolf face?? Eyes? ] Sideburns?
[ Embarrassed on Derek's behalf tbh. ] But it's fine, I honestly don't care. As long as he doesn't start eating people, I don't have any— [ Actually. He doubts they'd rat out their "mentor", but it's worth asking. ] He's clean, right?
that's it that's the tag
[ the actual fuck. ]
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[ also kinda side-eying nick a little here because like seriously even peter hale didn't eat people and he was a rampaging murderer. ]
Are you sure you're not thinking of vampires? Or maybe cannibals. Werewolves are mostly the "uncontrollable mauling" kinda monsters.
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Vampires don't exist. And a lot of Wesen are cannibals, but it isn't... like I said, we don't have werewolves. Not exactly.
[ Maybe he'll just loan them the journal, it'd be easier than explaining. Nick pauses, glancing between them, and his tone's entirely light at this point; not even annoyed. ]
We can do the history lesson later. The important thing here is that I'm not a serial killer.
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kills tagging order
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