Stiles is always the man → (withaplan) wrote in notebookthreads, @ 2015-06-29 16:51:00 |
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Though Stiles really wanted to get out of here, he sort of liked Test City. Sort of. As far as he knew, there weren’t werewolves (except for Peter and the weird wizard… dog guy?) or Berserkers or Nogistunes or Durachs and nothing was trying to kill him. For the first time in a couple years, Stiles didn’t feel like his life was constantly at risk or that he needed to be ready to run because his little human body would get crushed by something supernatural and bizarro. Well, there were apparently dinosaurs outside of the gates, but no one has said anything about compies getting in or anything, so for now, he didn’t really think it was worth worrying about. Especially when he had a very real threat already in the city. Of all the people who had to show up here, Stiles wasn’t exactly surprised that it was Peter. Pissed? Yeah. Really, really terrified? Double yeah. But not surprised. The only thing that really surprised Stiles was the fact the guy was working in the police station. That was still some stupid kind of cosmic joke being played on him, but all Stiles could hope was that at least the police would be keeping an eye on him or something. Actually, should he tell the police they have a murderer working for them? He probably should but he definitely didn’t have any proof on him and he was already the dumbass who called the station and hung up, he didn’t want to be the boy who cried wolf too. Wow that was a terrible pun. “Ugh,” he groaned out loud, rolling his eyes at his own mental processes that led to said pun. Sighing heavily, Stiles rolled his neck and dropped his arms, letting his apron thing from work trail on the ground a little. This was actually the first real job he’d ever had and being a waiter sort of really sucked. The ‘eat anything whenever’ part wasn’t all bad but the actual waiter part wasn’t great, mostly because Stiles couldn’t write really fast or legibly so he messed up a lot of orders in the beginning, but everyone else seemed nice or at least they waited until he couldn’t hear them before complaining about him. He should probably also learn Spanish, but every Spanish teacher he ever had told him he pretty much should never try to speak Spanish to an actual Spanish person because he would probably offend them. Repeatedly. Suddenly, Stiles was aware that his apron felt like it was caught on something only to see it was actually attached to a puppy. “Oh, uh, hey buddy,” he said slowly, holding his hand out. “Where’d you come from?” |