justlurkinghere (
justlurkinghere) wrote2012-10-21 10:32 am
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Totally Not Kid-Friendly Creepy Old Mansion on Phoenix Way, Sunday Evening
As was probably shocking to absolutely no one, Derek did not socialize much at age ten. Which is why having a sleep-over was just crazy talk if you asked him.
Crazy talk.
But that wasn't going to stop him from trying out this whole thing. With friends.
[[Open for anyone who brave the creepy house!]]
Crazy talk.
But that wasn't going to stop him from trying out this whole thing. With friends.
[[Open for anyone who brave the creepy house!]]
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So, the kitchen was stocked with various
moddablekid-friendly treats (no name brand stuff, but he remembered being a kid and really not caring what it said on the bag as long as the chips were tasty and hoped kids today were the same), and Mike was committed to doing his best to make sure no one got hurt or anything.This was not the best place for a sleepover. Derek.
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Seriously, he was never ever telling Scott about this part of the weekend.
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And he had definitely never had a sleepover with the child-sized version of a werewolf that enjoyed putting him through pain on a frequent basis, so.
"Take this," Stiles said, holding out the arm that had the pizzas and his laptop. "It's a miracle I didn't manage to drop them."
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Derek took the boxes and laptop easily, frowning down at the laptop for a moment. "Is that a computer?"
It wasn't very brick-like.
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And she was really, really tired of pushing rocks around.
So she was there. Standing in a corner not talking to anyone, but she was there.
Every sleepover needed a tiny pink pony in the mix, after all.
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Oh god, it was like they switched personalities, wasn't it?
"No more rocks to push?" Derek asked warily.
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"There's always more rocks to push."
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The babel gremlin gave him English. It could not give him tact.
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"Are you real?" she asked. "Bears usually have hair."
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He thought about it for a moment. "But one time I saw a bear in the park, and people threw money at it to make it dance, and that was pretty cool."
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want to die tomorrowtry this sleepover concept. "Hello?" he said, knocking on the door. "Can I come in?"no subject
"You're little," Derek said, opening it to let the kid in.
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But between not being able to read and a less-than-perfect sense of direction, it was where he was when the sun got low enough on the horizon that he needed human companionship. He tapped on the door of the closest house that seemed occupied tentatively, not having much of a plan beyond the hope the people inside were nice.
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"Why not?" he asked, frowning. "I'm not little."
He was five, and could pass for a slight four. The fact he didn't know what a movie was made little difference.
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