semifreakingnormal | Entries tagged with basically brothers

[The feed clicks on and Scott is standing outside his door. He's holding the device in one hand, his lacrosse stick in the other.]

Okay, so I sorted out teams for lacrosse. Lydia helped make sure they're...mostly fair. [The odds are stacked against him.] I hung the sheet up outside my room, but - here.

[He turns the camera on the team listing, just to the right of his door:

Scott's Team
Cassel
Chris
Slevin
Archer
Jack
Bucky

Stiles' Team
Steve
Peter
Ben
Mindy
Andrew
Needy

He holds it there for a solid thirty second before turning the camera back on his face.]

So we're gonna start practice on Friday, in the CES around noon. And we haven't really decided on team names yet....What do you guys think? The Badgers and the Bears? The Bears and the Bengals? The...Okay, I can't think of anymore animals that start with a B. Consider this a, like, open call for suggestions.

And way, way more importantly - teams are supposed to be ten players, and we only have seven each. So come on! There have to be six more people who are bored and want to do something new around here. Lacrosse is, uh, it's a contact sport, kind of like....field hockey, but with sticks in the air.

[Nailed that description.]

It's easy to learn, and it's great for burning off energy, and it's - it's a lot of fun! Who's up for it?

[Private to Daneca]

[Early in the evening, he sends Daneca a text.]

are you busy???

[Private to Lydia]

Hey, um, this - this is gonna sound dumb, but do you think you can, uh. Keep Allison away from the CES tonight?

[Filtered to Peter, Cassel, Stiles]

So I have this really...really dumb favor to ask you guys.

[Beacon Hills Filter]

Hey, so Cassel gave me this charms for you guys. You can stop by my room, and I'll explain what they're for.

[When the video comes on, there's some fumbling and muttering - 'I got it, I got it' - right before the entire thing tumbles over and cuts out. When it comes on again, the video is steady and Scott is backing away with his hands up like that's the only thing keeping the communicator steady. He stops next to Stiles, shooting him a grin.]

Told you it'd stay.

[They're dressed in their lacrosse gear, maroon jerseys with 'Beacon Hills' across the front. Scott scoops up his stick from the ground, and plants the butt in the dirt beside him.]

We're officially getting a Barge lacrosse league.

[Because how many of you need a distraction??? Scott sure does.

And so does Stiles. He immensely needs a distraction, and lacrosse seems like a pretty healthy thing for him to channel his energy into and focus on. He leans against Scott and looks at the communicator -- which is inevitably going to fall at some point.]

And before you say you don't know how to play, or you've never heard of lacrosse, that's okay. We'll tell you everything you need to know. Scott here is the captain of the team back home in Beacon Hills and I am no longer just warming the bench.

[He grins. Scott matches it, nodding enthusiastically.]

Yeah, totally. I know a few of you are already down, and the rest of you - I'll come sing outside your door, okay, don't make me do it. We're in the CES, we've got the door, like, propped open with a rock. [A really big rock that he had to lug over.] I've got plenty of gear, so we can start right away. And everyone's welcome! Inmate, warden, whatever. So come and--shit!

[The inevitable has come, and Scott dives for the communicator as it tumbles forward, giving a whirlwind view of sky and dirt. In the background, you can hear Stiles'] Dude, I told you! [before the feed cuts out completely.]

[Okay. He learned from the last time. He doesn't have to apologize. That doesn't mean he's not struggling with the memories of what he did.

Scott's eyes aren't quite red rimmed, but he is far from relaxed. It's obvious he's broadcasting from the infirmary: there still some structural damage around as the Admiral slowly fixes things.]

I'm, um.

[Sorry sorry sorry sorry. He swallows it back, draws in a shaky breath.]

I'm in the infirmary. [He looks around over his shoulder.] Obviously. I know there's not a lot the doctors can do for people who are death tolling. But one of the things I learned at home can help. I can take away pain, when I touch people. So, I'll - I'll be here. I'l be around. Just let me know if you're hurting, and I'll make it better for a while.

[He doesn't mention that he takes the pain on himself. He hopes Stiles and Dean won't say anything, either. It feels like penance, though that's not the only reason he's offering. If he can help people and feel like he's scouring away his guilt, well...then he's going to.]

[Private to Peter]

You were right. I'm definitely thanking you after.

Are you okay?

[Spam for Stiles and Lydia]

[He's been at her bedside in the infirmary since they reappeared back on the Barge, waiting for her to wake up. He knows she will. Knows it deep in his gut, because the Admiral hasn't failed them like this. He won't leave her there, and he won't leave her dead.

There's a whisper of doubt in his thought, and he's doing the best he can to banish it. It leaves his throat and mouth dry, and he doesn't know what to do.

Looking over the bed at Stiles, he draws in breath to say something, anything, but he can't. It wasn't him, but he remembers tearing her throat out, he remembers Stiles' face when it happened, and he has to look down at his hands again.]

[Spam for Stiles | Day 1]

( things could be worse. )

[Private to the pack | Day 2]

Chris is one of us, now. I'm showing him the ropes, but keep an eye on him until he's got a grip on it. It won't be long, he's a smart guy. Remember, we look out for each other.

[Somehow, he can play at being the caring alpha, and it all sounds right, but he looks almost bored. A glint makes its way into those red eyes when he changes the subject.]

I'm heading down to the surface to check it out. Don't start a party without me.

[Private to Daneca | Day 2]

Hey. You're not affected, right? [He says this like it would be the most annoying thing in the world.] I'm heading out, you should come with.

[Spam for Lydia and Stiles | Day 3]

( a growl fills his throat )

[Spam in port | Day 4]

[All his time in port was well spent, and though a couple days really isn't enough time, it'll have to do. He wanted a stronger pack, but he'll settle for a bigger one. It's not like he'll need them to really fight. He just needs them to die.

Scott stalks out of the city, toward the Barge. Behind him, his new pack follows, numbering somewhere in the teens. He lost count after twelve. They'll be enough, but not enough to stop him. Not him. He's the alpha. They are all half turned, commanded by his voice, commanded to follow and obey, and they are not strong enough to fight it like he was. They don't have anchors.

A hundred yards from the Barge they stop. Scott grins over his shoulder.]

Ready to see something new?

[He turns back to the Barge, leans forward and roars. This is how wolves signal to their pack. The one behind him winces, he can feel it, but every wolf left on the Barge will hear him. They'll know exactly where he is, and that he's calling them to war. Against who is a little less clear.

Then he starts to change. He's always red eyed and fanged and clawed, always has that hair along his face, but now he really changes. He twists, like he's cracking his neck, except his face shifts and pulls, his jaw extends grotesquely, and all his teeth sharpen and grow. Fur grows down his neck, over his hands, and soon he's more beast than boy.

And when his new pack is staring in shock or awe or fear - fear, he tastes fear, there is so much fear here - he turns to the closest, and claws his throat out. Systematically, he goes through the pack, fighting off the ones that howl with rage, breaking necks, clawing faces, dragging his claws through skin. Only some run. Most die.

Strength matters everywhere, and the more he kills, the stronger he is. He'll take any of them on.]

( private notes for Jack, Cassel, Stiles, friends Filter )

[Scott has been thinking about this for a while. It started during the last fourth wall, when Lydia talked him like a human being, or a friend, instead of the image he has of her in his head as Miss Thing, too popular to give him or Stiles the time of day. It started with her, with wondering what a future where being a werewolf is useful is like, with knowing that Allison won't hate him. Stiles showing up looking like death amped that curiosity up to a terrible churning in the pit of his stomach. If he can do something, he should. If he can help, he should.]

Hey, um. I'm going to be heading home for a little. [This is a lie, he's expecting a year to pass. He's just not at all sure how to say that while also saying 'I'll be back soon.'] I don't think it'll be too long, here. But I wanted to say something, just in case. So no one, like, freaks out if I just up and disappeared or something.

Uhh - oh yeah! Does anyone have any animal experience? I want to leave the clinic key with someone while I'm gone. I'll totally give them all their shots and flea stuff when I get back. And, if anyone wants anything from like, the tiniest, weirdest town in California, let me know.

Scott McCall

Entries tagged with basically brothers

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