#haletheking

Elayne liked her new apartment. It was quiet, decently sized, and was in her price range. All in all, it was alright. So when she heard the large bang that came from the front door shutting, she was a bit nervous. After all, no one had ever banged the door like that. It was also rather late. Her dog, Comet, was even barking at the door. Almost as if he was begging to see what was happening.

She finally gave in, putting on a jacket and a pair of slippers before opening the door. Comet raced down the hall and she was left peeking out. Blinking, she hadn’t expected to see a man, leaning against the main door. Confused, she went forward. Almost as if he would bite her, she held her hands up to show she meant him no harm.

“H-Hey? You okay? Do I need to call someone?” She asked.

        ~Because I asked you politely, and I only do that once~

Derek Hale RP blog

A promo for one of my very favourite RP’ers. Their writing is amazing and really paints a picture for you.

[They’ve been watching the dive bar for over a month. Nestled between a by-the-slice pizza place and a six story walk up, it’s a basement level entry. Opens up onto an alley out back that’s claustrophobically walled in by all the surrounding buildings. It’s clear there is a set of transactions going on semi-regularly, on a rotating schedule between the gang they’ve been tracking and a local sect. It’s also a surveillance nightmare inside and out and they’re being forced to resort to old school techniques at this point. As Stiles wires up he can’t help but smirk bitterly. They knew what they were doing. They’ve always known what they were doing and his unit has been too many steps behind for too fucking long. 

-----

‘You can play the tech junkie as good as any. Living in Greenpoint, meeting your friends for a drink at a local dive bar in just a seedy enough neighborhood to make it exciting for all of you making your six figure salaries.’ 

Stiles had leant back in his temporarily re-appropriated chair, with his feet on his desk if a filing cabinet and a card table could be called that, and feigned disappointment. 

‘What happens when my friends don’t show, Murphy? Loners at bars draw attention, and none of our guys are going to buy it. I’m going to stick out like a neon sign wrapped in an FBI vest with blaring police sirens and the distant and ominous sound of helicopter blades’

‘We’ll have Danny and Trevor from the analytics team meet you inside. This is just routine reconnaissance. You’re not making contact, you’re getting the lay of the—don’t look at me like that.’

Stiles is mid eye-roll and rolls his head again, just for effect.

‘I’ve been working for you for three years, Murph. Don’t read me the rulebook you’ve got memorized now.’ 

---- 

He pulls his jacket tighter across his shoulders as he crosses the street and ducks into the place. It’s cozy. Cozier than it has any right to be with a set of jalapeño string lights ringing the wood topped bar. He orders the Brooklyn based IPA on tap and pays cash, nodding at the bartender, and situates himself at one of the booths closer to the entrance, with the most casual viewpoint of the front door and the back room, darker and tucked behind the curve of the bar. The leather is flaking and creaks under his jeans, but there’s something comforting about it, nonetheless. 

There are three points of entry from his sightline. He clocks seventeen civilians, and two targets. Bartender plus bar back rounds it up to twenty one. 

1. collar full - panic at the disco 2. northern downpour - panic at the disco 3. currents - dashboard confessionals 4. always summer - yellowcard 5. suppose - secondhand serenade 6. six months - hey monday 7. salvation - carolina liar

It’s his personality, it makes him seem bigger.

@haletheking

Stiles was aware he hadn’t answered his phone in days, and someone would probably come looking for him. But did he care?

No.

He was on the verge of a breakthrough. 

His once tidy and eclectic loft was now a mess. Books covered every surface, intermingled with random herbs and crystals and a few odd talismans. A whole tree branch lay where his couch used to be and everything smelled of ash and smoke.

Stiles’ eyes were rimmed in shadow and his hair was unkempt. His clothes had stains and burns in several places but he didn’t seem to notice. He was focused solely on the bowl in his hands and the spell he was muttering.

His plan wasn’t smart. Just something to get into their house. Which had surprisingly worked. It was just staying with his plan and not getting caught that would take up most of his time. But Stiles knew better than to keep thinking about that. Knowing he’d out himself sooner if he stuck to just remembering why he was there. Especially with the way he tended to ramble. Mainly, he was doing this out of spite for the assholes that also knew he was going to die for taking this on.

It had been years since her last breath had been taken from the billowing smoke that filled the tall trees around their home. All that she could remember was the pain and suffering of family and the intense heat. The woman could feel it itching under her skin growing hotter by the second until it was unbearable and a sudden cry left her lips and then-

Eyes flutter open at the sounds of birds chirping and twittering nearby. The sun was bright and cause Talia to groan and roll over. It was then that she was face to face with a familiar friend. "Jesus christ, what are you doing?" She gasped. The person only smiled and began to walk away. Talia got up slowly and looked around. Everything had changed, grown in the years past. "Why did you bring me back?" The person kept on walking away without a word. "Peter!" Her words echoed around the woods.