originallutece | (no subject)

[She stares at him for another long few seconds. And then, terribly patiently:]

Stiles. Is this a work of fiction?

[ he splays his hands, sits up a little. ]

... Yes. [ squint. ] Kind of?

Stiles.

[Stiles.]

I was born in 1871.

[ literally no hesitation. ]

Time and space. Plus! [ and this is important. notice the dramatic pause. ] I met Wonder Woman. So.

[ obviously your reasoning here is flawed. obviously his argument very clearly makes sense. ]

[STILL HAS NO IDEA WHO THAT IS OR WHY THAT'S RELEVANT.]

You keep saying these names as though I ought to recognize them. Stiles, I barely recognize fiction from my time, never mind yours. Do you really think I spent my teenage years reading fictional books?

[ stiles closes his eyes for a moment. sighs dramatically. rolls his head on his shoulders like this is some huge burden he has to explain. ]

Ugh, you're missing the point. The point [ he holds his hands out, palms facing each other, shakes them a little for emphasis ] is that maybe fictional characters aren't actually... fictional.

[ he flops back against the couch, completely distracted now from his earlier crisis. huh. ]

Where I'm from, Wonder Woman is... she's a superhero, and an Amazonian princess and a badass. But she's— well, she started out as a comic book character, and then that was adapted to film and television. Anyway. Not the point.

The point [ hands, again ] is that... she exists here. For real, in the flesh. Diana Prince. I've met her. In some other universe that's not mine, she's an actual, living, breathing person. The Doctor is an alien that can travel through time and space, so... I mean, who's to say he— or she, maybe, or they couldn't... end up in our... time and space. Or here.

[ he pauses for a moment, seems to consider something, lifts his brows almost as if in challenge as he leans back again, arms crossing over his chest. ]

Maybe you're the Doctor.

[ stiles. scott is missing. ]

[She stares at him for a fair amount of time, just to make sure he understands her viewpoint on this. Then, slowly:]

I'm not an alien, Stiles. I would be very aware if I was, don't you think? I'm not arguing your point about fictional characters, but good god, do you really think I've been lying this entire time?

[ stiles blinks at her, mouth open slightly. he touches the tip of his tongue to a canine, and then closes his mouth, lips turning down thoughtfully. ]

... To be fair, I don't think I've ever asked? [ he puts one of his hands out, as if this will help his clarification. ] If you're an alien. I've never asked if you're an alien so you wouldn't have had the opportunity to lie about being one.

[ here comes his other hand to join the first. ]

Not that I'm asking now or, or calling you a liar, I'm just saying.

[ he has no idea what the fuck he was just saying anymore to. be. honest. ]

[She gives him a little look, choosing not to speak for just a few seconds. Really underscore that point she's making with her silence.]

. . . quite.

[That's the end of that subject, as far as Rosalind and her tone are concerned. With a harsh exhale, she pinches the bridge of her nose. At least this has distracted Stiles from his primary grief, that's something good.]

Any other questions about myself and my past?

Edited 2019-02-08 05:04 (UTC)

[ stiles hesitates for a handful of moments, like he's contemplating arguing his point a little more even though he's kind of... veered off the tracks and lost his actual, original point. he presses his lips together and shakes his head. ]

... No. No, I'm good. [ ... ] Actually. Actually. I was kind of being serious with my original question. Minus all the Doctor Who stuff.

You're going to have to restate it, then.

[Because while she doesn't mind answering him, she still has no idea what Doctor Who-ing it up means.]

[ stiles drops both of his hands and shifts his weight around a little on the couch so he's sitting sideways, but still facing her, one leg drawn up and folded halfway underneath him. he's got one arm draped lazily over the back of the couch. ]

Okay, so. You can... tear holes in the universe. Can you still do that... here? I mean I assume it's not an easy thing because if it was and you could, you'd have done it already, probably, but.

I don't know.

[Ooh, she hates admitting that. Better memorize that sound, because she won't ever say it again.]

Theoretically, yes, of course. It would take an age and a half for me to rebuild the machine, and I don't even know if I'd have the right materials-- but yes, if I were to build it, there's no reason that it oughtn't work.

But. There was no way they could have caught me, either. And yet they did, somehow. And if they could do that, if they had something powerful enough not only to strip me of my powers, but revert me into a human, to force me to stay put . . . they may have something powerful enough to stop me from opening a tear in the world.

It isn't impossible. I've seen that done.

[ there is one thing in particular here that strikes stiles oddly, enough to make him squint a little at rosalind. revert me into a human. that's — a really weird thing coming from someone stiles has assumed, for the entire time that he's known her, is human. which is maybe a little bit naive on his part, considering where he comes from and the people who surround him, but rosalind has never really given any indication that she could be... something else.

stiles folds his lower lip over the edge of his bottom teeth, swipes the underside of his tongue over it, closes his mouth. okay. okay, that's something to unpack... eventually.

right now, though, he's thinking about scott, and the line he had down his throat when he got here. scott's last tattoo had to be burned into his flesh to make it stick, so it's likely that the people here would have had to do the same to mark him as a submissive. but that's not something any regular person unaware of werewolves would know to do. they would have had to subdue him, too, and there are very few things that can knock down a werewolf.

so these people know things. they know things, they have a certain level of power and knowledge that makes stiles feel a little unsettled. they were able to stop and capture rosalind, someone capable of walking across universes, and they brought her here like it was easy. like it was nothing.

stiles touches the side of his thumb to his lower lip while he thinks. after a beat, he looks up, moves his hand slightly just so he isn't muffling himself. ]

... Do you think you're going to try?

[That's the question, isn't it? The same one that Dr. Reid had posed to her months ago.]

. . . I'm not opposed. But if I do, it would have to be very, very carefully. I wouldn't want them to have even a hint of a suspicion as to what I'm building.