WHO: Malia Tate, Katherine and Thor WHAT: Meeting WHEN: Sunday evening WHERE: Katherine and Thor's place WARNINGS: Um...Malia has no filters? STATUS: Closed/Ongoing
Malia was pissed. She was pissed in ways that had nothing to do with this place, and pissed in ways that had everything to do with this place. She wasn't happy to have been kidnapped by some sentient island, and she was pissed because apparently her father was an evil, murdering bastard and Stiles and Scott hadn't seen fit to tell her that little detail.
Why? Did they think she was a weak little girl who couldn't handle it? If she ever saw them again, she was going to give them a piece of her mind. Especially Stiles. Because she'd trusted him and maybe even loved him and he hadn't even trusted her with the truth.
The anger was making her eyes glow a little, but at least her fingernails weren't becoming claws. It was something. She was still really crap at controlling her transformation, especially without Stiles. But...screw Stiles. She didn't need protecting, or whatever it was he was doing, and she could do this herself. Without him. She wasn't some weak little damsel who needed to be put on a pedastal and protected. That was not her.
Before she knew it, she'd reached the place where she was supposed to meet the others, and saw a girl standing there. Lacking much in the way of social graces (she had, after all, missed her pre-teen and teen years as a human), she called out sharply.