[The locket is opened and set to video, showing the inside of the Station (to those that are familiar with it). The POV moves up a set of stairs to a second floor lounge area, the railing of it opening up over the main floor and giving the viewer a wonderful view of the whole area. The locket turns to show Stiles, looking like he's, as a certain dark haired professor would say 'up to something'. He starts to talk in hushed tones, whispering to the locket.]Allison, I thought you'd want to see this. Lydia, you too. This is for you, girls. Well, and me, but mostly for you.
[He looks like he's barely repressing laughter, moving so he's crouched down by the rails, peering through them. It's not more than a minute before his target comes strolling in. Peter Hale, looking just as cocky and jerky as ever. He reaches into the pocket of his hoodie and pulls out a bottle, pulling the cork out with a puff of pink smoke. He looks at the locket again and bites his lip to hold in the laugh, aiming the locket back at Peter.]Oh,
Peter~
[His voice is sing-song as he stands and reaches out over the railing, pouring the contents of the bottle down on the man looking around in bewilderment. There's a puff of pink smoke and when it clears, the horror is revealed and Stiles bursts out laughing.]~*~ POV SWITCH TO PETER ~*~[The stations been good for Peter's state of mind. Unfortunately, it has also left him with his guard lowered. He's minding his own business when he walks below Stiles, intent on consuming the largest coffee he can get his hands on. He's caught wind of Stiles scent - it's been so long, though, that it lingers on the edge of his peripherals. Familiar, like a face he can't quite place.
When he hears Stiles call out, he freezes, fists clenching at his sides and his mouth curling into an irritated snarl. He looks up, ready to offer a moutful of profanity - except he's blinded, momentarily, with a pink puff and the words die in throat. ]What -
[He tries to clear it with his hands, coughing rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. When it clears he's aware of two things: 1) he's just been pranked and 2) his hands are grotesquely patterned. He's mute with growing horror and rage, torn between hunting Stiles down and tearing his throat out and going straight to his room to inspect the damage in private.
His vanity wins out in the end and he turns, legging it the other way. ]~*~ POV SWITCH TO STILES ~*~[The locket shows Stiles on the floor of the upper lounge of the Station, laughing his ass off. It wasn't just Peter's hands that were covered in the black and pink fur (though he hadn't expected the black part), it was his entire body, making him look like a black and pink striped version of Brobee, minus the large eyes and pointy horn things and overlong arms, of course. But still, he was proud with his work and it showed in the tears streaming down his face.]Did you get it? Did I get it? Did you see that? Aha ha ha ha ha ha ha! Oh my god, that was so much better than I thought it would be. Oh god, I think I'm gonna pee myself. Aha ha ha ha ha!
[Stiles is still lying there laughing, needing a moment before he attempted to get up and make his way back to the fairy ring.]{ooc: This post will be open for comments for both Peter and Stiles, so please feel free to make mention of who you're attempting to reach in the subject header.} ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
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isitapony
