robinonadderall (
robinonadderall) wrote2012-11-25 09:54 am
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Not-So-Creepy Mansion | Late Sunday Morning
Right, so, Stiles' Thanksgiving had sucked what with getting his dad fired and Scott almost dying and them not being any closer to solving the whole kanima thing. He needed to relieve some stress and doing it the usual way wasn't cutting it. Which would be why he was at Derek's with a small jar filled with mountain ash. Deaton had been proud to hear of what Stiles accomplished and gave some more of it just in case. He was dying to see if the other night was just a fluke or if he really did gain a new skill.
Unlike the last time he did this, Stiles wasn't all that nervous about the small amount of mountain ash he had. In fact he purposely took less than was needed. He sprinkled some of it for a couple feet before closing his eyes and picturing a completed ring of ash around the mansion. Sure enough when he opened his eyes back up again the circle was complete. Oh yeah, he was totally magic.
He was in no rush to see if it worked, so he let himself in the house and wandered into the kitchen because he hadn't had anything to eat yet today. He ended up finding the motherload of Thanksgiving leftovers and quickly took to making himself a turkey sandwich and...finishing off the pie.
Whoops.
[For the werewolf who has no chest hair! And the stripper with no chest hair, if he wants!]
Unlike the last time he did this, Stiles wasn't all that nervous about the small amount of mountain ash he had. In fact he purposely took less than was needed. He sprinkled some of it for a couple feet before closing his eyes and picturing a completed ring of ash around the mansion. Sure enough when he opened his eyes back up again the circle was complete. Oh yeah, he was totally magic.
He was in no rush to see if it worked, so he let himself in the house and wandered into the kitchen because he hadn't had anything to eat yet today. He ended up finding the motherload of Thanksgiving leftovers and quickly took to making himself a turkey sandwich and...finishing off the pie.
Whoops.
[For the werewolf who has no chest hair! And the stripper with no chest hair, if he wants!]
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And someone puking.
Derek sighed, rolling his eyes. "Get out."
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"Was this your food or Mike's?"
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Other than to let Puppy Joe run free.
"It's mine. So stop it." He baked that pie in a little werewolf oven. The kind you mocked!
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Derek rounded on him, eyebrows all up in a tizzy of annoyance and inability to use his words without resorting to physical violence as he grabbed Stiles by the back of the collar and twisted the fabric. "Is that so."
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"But give me a five second head start anyway?" He wasn't very athletic but he was pretty sure he could make it out the door in five seconds. Pretty sure.
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"...what?"
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"...actually I might do that 'cause this stuff is really good."
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"Shut up and get out," he said with a shove.
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Stiles, of course, didn't go anywhere beyond the few feet he was shoved. "I think I'm gonna stay here. Get some homework done, maybe rifle through your stuff if I get bored."
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"Stiles. Go," Derek ground out, taking a step after him. In case that would get the kid moving.
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"... Oh, hey."
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"Hey, Mike," Stiles said casually, like he broke into people's houses all the time. Which he did. "How was your Thanksgiving?"
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Derek just didn't realize he was a lab rat.
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This was Mike's dubious voice.
"It's way too early on a Sunday morning for that."
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He went to make himself a sandwich, since that was what he'd come into the kitchen for and everything. "It's too early for science. Do I even want to know what this experiment is about?"
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"And that's smart because...?"
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