[Spam for Stiles Thomas] Scott has reached a point of restlessness that he simply can't handle any more. Whether it's his own feeling of being utterly overwhelmed by everything he has been hit with in the last week or a call to nature by his more animalistic side is up for debate. But whatever the reason, he finds himself wandering the grounds outside the hotel.
At first, it's random wandering, just getting a lay of the land, to know his surroundings. But as he wanders toward the back of the hotel, he sees the maze again and pauses to marvel at it. It seems huge... he wonders if it actually goes anywhere, or if it's just... another piece of the very confusing puzzle he finds himself currently a part of.
Just as he's about to turn and head back inside, he hears a sound....deep, and rolling and angry. A growl that belongs to something currently unrecognizable and indistinguishable among the thicket of the maze. He almost leaves it be. Almost. Until he hears a scream.
A too-familiar scream.
Stiles.
He immediately turns on his heel and breaks into a dead run into the maze. If not for his boosted hearing, he may not have been able to find him so quickly, but Scott used his assets to his advantage and soon, he rounded a corner just in time to see the large, scaly and winged creature dive down and head straight for him, the new prey that had wandered unsuspectingly into it's feeding grounds. "Ohhh shit!" he shouts and manages to slip away. He still has to find his friend, though. "STILES!" He couldn't be far, right?
[OTA Spam] Insomnia is a terrible thing. And it is something he had grown accustomed to in the months after Allison had died, when Stiles disappeared, when Lydia moved to Massachusetts. His life has been one disaster after another, and sometimes he's still surprised he has even made it through everything he as well-put-together and in tact as he is.
The battle with the dragon--and his life has been so fullnof strange and unusual things, that thought doesn't even make him bat an eye--had him pretty worn down, physically, at least. The burns on his left arm stung and the gashes from the beast's claws on his right side still weren't healed. Sleep was out of the question until he could slow his mind down, though, so for now, he wandered around the hotel. He can be found on any floor, in the lobby or on the elevator at various times. His shirt is torn and bloody, but the gashes and burns are wrapped in bandages.
[Spam for Allison] He was finally feeling the urge of sleep tugging at his brain, so he wandered back through the lobby toward the elevator to take it to his floor. But of course, suddenly the elevator isn't working. If it's still an issue when he tries to come down for breakfast in the morning, he'll make a comment to one of the staff about it.
He sighs and pushes a hand through his hair and heads for the stairs. At least he's only on the first floor. Not many steps to make for that, which is good considering the slower-than-expected healing injuries he'd endured earlier.