irrelevance | ( I N B O X )

So how do you like Wonderland?

[ Look someone is checking up on you, Matt. Allison told him about the... uncomfortable stuff, but that doesn't keep him from keeping an eye out for Matt. ]

[ why do you care?

whether Matt likes Wonderland or not doesn't really matter. he can't go home. and it isn't solely because the queen says nobody can. ]

It's not the worst place to get kicked out of a kidnapper's van at. [ but it's no Disneyland. ] So far.

[ Because Wonderland is dangerous enough to a werewolf. A ...Mostly human, well, it's a shit show. ]

Wait 'til an event worse than singing rolls around. [ Which is actually something that worries him - for Erica, Matt and Jackson. ] It can get pretty bad. [ Matt knows he can ask them for help... doesn't he? ] You know you can - uh...

What, die? [ ugh, you people. you're all the same. yes, he knows. he knows he's mortal and they hate him and if he steps out of line, it's his head on a platter. Isaac, you don't need to remind him! ( it doesn't even dawn on him that Isaac's trying to tell him he can ask for help. ) ]

I got a pretty warm welcome when I get here. I'm well aware.

[ God, Matt, way to jump to conclusions. Isaac easily places the agitation in his voice, and it causes him to delay for a second. ] I meant if you're in trouble you can contact me.

[ He doesn't intend on hurting Matt, and it doesn't seem like Matt has an intention of hurting him. Jackson is here, he could easily start hurting people if he wanted. ] You think I'm messaging you to threaten you?

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Have you picked a team, yet?

[ He's just going to assume Matt already knows about the whole lacrosse thing. ]

for lacrosse?

[ gee, don't know, Jackson. second string wasn't so great to begin with. ]

why, are you offering me a spot?

[ He's gotta start somewhere. And someone has to document their victories while waiting for the turn to play that will never come, right? ]

Yes. For lacrosse.
Have you picked a team or not?

i don't think being on a team with Lahey or Stilinski again is going to play out in my favor, so no. i haven't picked a team.

Then you're going to help me teach a few idiots how we play lacrosse.

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You have people worried.
They keep talking.
On and on about what you might do.
What you could do.
Talk, talk, talk.

What you might make Jackson do.
Their fear is power, it's always a strong motivator.
What do you intend to do?

[ his mirror is talking to him. scratch that, his mirror has turned into a message board. and it's not the sort of comic book stuff he's used to looking up. he's the source of curiosity and it both delights and terrifies him. this is what Jackson and Isaac were talking about, but nobody said he wouldn't know what he was dealing with.

it's uncomfortable, to say at the least.

but he's not shaking in his sneakers as much as he should be. he has to go and get a marker from the closet and practice writing backward, but eventually he gets it right. ]

maybe their lives were too boring without me. you should be thanking me.
what makes you think i intend to do anything?

[ The mirror watches, even unseen an amused smile playing on his lips as he watches Matt practice writing backwards. But the playing innocent gets scoffed at. ]

I can read it if you have too much trouble writing backwards.

How kind of you, thank you for brightening up their lives so I actually have something amusing to watch.
Don't be boring, besides, the real question you should be asking is: "Why do you care?"

Edited 2014-05-09 05:39 (UTC)

[ he's nothing if not clever, so he's going to stubbornly keep trying. ]

glad to be of service.
okay, i'll bite.
why do you care?

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[So, normally he wouldn't do this kind of thing. Charity is charity, but it's usually only for the tax write-off. And the Iron Man thing started as a mission of vengeance.

But, what the hell. It won't hurt, and the kid did help him out with helping rip out that wall in much less time than it would have taken Tony alone to do it.

You owe him, Isaac.]

Yeah, so hi. [No introductions, though. The blue glow through his tshirt and the suit in the alcove behind him say plenty.] So, originally I wasn't going to bother with this, since your buddy's been fogging up my windows and crap since I got the walls up, but for the record, I am here, and he did help tear out a wall.

So don't give him too much shit, alright?

[ you know what they say about boobs being the best thing to ever happen in a young man's life? well, they're wrong. ( to be clear, boobs are still nice. he digs boobs. ) because nothing is as great as having a comic book hero come to life directly off of the pages of something you grew up on, knowing it was fake but relating to it on so many levels. wishing it was real. wishing people had super powers and that they brought justice to those that had been wronged. Iron Man's maybe a little less gung ho about it, but he's still a part of the Avengers for a reason. so when his device beeps in his pocket and he pulls it out and sees fucking Tony Stark, of all people, his jaw drops.

oh my god, he just came a little. ]

But .. ... you're so cool. [ and Issac's just well, Isaac. that's the implication here. ]

[Bless you, Matt, you sweet summer child.]

Right? But, you know, here I was having to start from the ground up and how I was I supposed to know he'd be drawing little hearts in his fanboy breath on the window.

[Okay, so maybe Isaac isn't that bad, and not that much of a creeper, but far be it for Tony Stark not to stretch the truth a little.]

Nah, I'm kidding, he's not that bad. Told me you were calling bullshit on me, though, so I thought I might as well clear that up while I had a minute.

[ cora's hesitant to reach out to matt, having been informed not too long since his introduction to wonderland of the type of things he's capable of. staying far away from him had kept her allegedly safe and out of his own sphere, but the beach and the school had brought them together, crashing into one another like the waves within the ocean. she finds herself conflicted, nonetheless, with what had transpired between them on the beach at the bonfire and within the event that had her smiling and laughing and being utterly mundane and human. she doesn't forget what she had done for him, in a history that doesn't exist, as cora hale has never stepped foot within the halls of beacon hills high while matt daehler had been around, ready to punch a few bullies in the face for terrorising a kid who, honestly, deserves a little slack. it's hard to shake, to say the least, of what he had done for her and what she, in turn, had reciprocated unintentionally. ]

[ she can't sleep, so she decides to try and send him a text, but words have never been cora's strength. baby steps aren't, either. ]

Is this Matt from Beacon Hills?

[ she never really got him to repeat his surname. ]

[ that works out fucking fantastically since the last thing he wants is visitors. strangers too scared to admit the truth about the world; people that call themselves his friends when really they aren't because they don't see him for who he is or what he feels, what he wants. they see him for who they think he can be, who they want to shape him into. well, Matt's wised up. he's smarter than that. he knows the truth, and the truth is: he doesn't have anyone. there's nobody on his side and there never has been, so it's all par for the course as far as he's concerned. no shock factor there. he's been trapped inside a glass box filling up with water for years while he burns the palms of his hands with steam just trying to stay afloat by grasping pipes.

as can be unexpected, it's excruciating for him to have a support group of some sort. a circle of friends. memories that wash away like paint but leave colored tracks in their wake, reminding him of what used to be there. he seals himself away from the rest of Wonderland. he bolts the door, turns the lights off and smashes his high-end, handout camera against the wall. he kicks his bed until the mattress slides off, breaks a lamp, and spends longer than necessary degrading himself in the mirror because he acknowledges how disgusting he is, how broken, in the privacy of his own mind; his own space.

why would anyone like you?

until eventually, somehow, he exhausts himself with the rage and despair, and evens out into a numb stage. he comes down from the extremes to a message he wants nothing to do with. ]

who's asking?

[ cora doesn't know matt. he's like a character in a fairytale, one where the core of his story doesn't quite change, regardless of how many mouths seem to tell it. there's a running theme cora's picked up on, though, it sharp and untouched by the bias wrapping around his story. it's a theme those within beacon hills may be a little blind to — it's difficult to see what's clearly in front of you unless it's held you by the scruff of your collar once before. loneliness and anger is one of the greatest demons cora's ever faced, never quite conquering it as she believes she has — instead, she's allowed it to rule her like the moon, letting it toss her to and fro like that of the tide before her gentle fingers. ]

[ with uncharacteristic patience, cora's begun to untangle the mess of her confusing memories, spying that familiar glimmer when it comes to matt. he may have smiled brighter, been softer around the edges, perhaps more fearless, but it still lingers within his light eyes, that demon cora knows had settled itself on her shoulders at the beach and within the school. it's not necessarily in her nature to extend her arm out to those who are not pack — wolf or worthy — but if she continues down her long and windy road, she knows she will be met with a dead end of loneliness, amplified and dark and more scary than the monsters she used to believe hid beneath her bed. ]

[ trying. it's a weird concept, her trying to knock down at least one of the walls protecting her castle from enemies. ]

[ it's all the answer she needs, but instead of explaining the reason behind her own texting, she decides to meet his own vague answer with one that, perhaps, gives him nothing. ]

Cora.

[ it hurts. it hurts wondering what his life would be like if he had friends like Cora growing up in Beacon Hills. what if she had been there? what if she had been around to pluck him out of the pool? she's the kind of girl that keeps her head on straight, or at least that was the vibe he got from her when she was defending him, or at the dance when she was all glammed out. he wants to throw his phone against the wall too and watch as it bursts into pieces, but he feels like that won't be as satisfying as he wishes. with his luck, it would sail across the room and land perfectly fine against the carpet, as if by parachute. he hates wondering about the past because the one he has already belongs to him. it's his. no what if can reverse what's already been written in history.

Matt shuts that curiosity down but he doesn't recoil away from Cora. no, he's too toxic for that. he can't ever walk away like a normal person and accept that good things won't fall in his lap. he can't allow the wound to heal. he wants to poke it with a stick that's teaming with bacteria and open it wider to allow more pain to shoot through him. he's not happy until he can rip himself apart to prove his point. ]

what do you want, Cora? shouldn't you be running as far as you possibly can in the other direction?

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[She'd been avoiding everyone after the event. She should be grateful she'd even had a chance to attend a school dance along the same lines as prom with a date. She should be grateful that everything had been blissfully normal for once, a glimpse into what should have been her life. Haunted houses, slow dances, laughter - pure and simple normality. It hurt more than it should have, but Wonderland seemed to excel at doing that to her - reminding her of things she'd never have even if it was something as stupid as prom.

She holds the communicator in her hand, staring at it for a long time before finally reaching out. She needed to talk to Matt, talk about the event - the dance - all of it - unable to ignore it and sweep it under the rug.]

Hey. Do you have a minute?

[ he's only marginally more adjusted than the night he talked to Cora. he's still not remotely okay. he's standing on the line between two choices, stretched impossibly thin. one foot's pointed in the direction of doing the right thing, following the path he's on while the other straddles the harsh truth, the one that says nobody is capable of change because people are filthy, and if he wants revenge, well, he just might turn into one of those killers he's so intent on punishing. ( and that part of him that wants it, craves it more than attention and air and eating, and fitting in, says who cares? is that really the worst that can happen? ) he's been changed for years. one more plunge won't break him, not like kindness does.

Matt grabs his phone and when he sees Erica's name because he isn't any more capable of ignoring her than he was with Cora. he swallows hard, prepares for the worst. the good news is that there's nothing terrible she can say to him that he hasn't already told himself. ]

tell me what you need.

[ he has time for her regardless of how small he feels. ]

[tell me what you need.

She sits for a moment starting a message only to delete it, repeating that action a few times before finally settling on simple - vague.]

Can we meet up to talk? Please?

[Because it's definitely something she wants to do in person, not over text. She tacks on the please at the end, trying to come off as nice as she can despite everything running through her head. She doesn't want to overwhelm him with the true answer.

Simple. Easy. It's a start.]

[ his gaze makes a beeline for his bedroom door and he's having a hard enough time finding the energy to check the network, let alone getting out of bed. checking the state of his room tells him that she can't come here. he doesn't text her back right away because he has to think about whether or not he has the motivation to meet her in person, to have a face-to-face interaction, when he has no interest in being around anyone.

why? he types and then backspaces.

if he wants to know the answer, then he's going to have to face her, even when every part of his body is tense with anxiety. it must be important for her to want to meet up. it implies it's something she can't say over the phone, but she's wrong. she can tell him she hates him and he's gross from wherever she is. he has half the mind to tell her he's not in the mood. ]

where do you want to meet?

Edited 2014-07-20 03:17 (UTC)

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