003} can't no preacher man save my soul [video/spam]

[theresalwayshope]

[SPAM]

[When Alan Argent wakes up in the morning...something doesn't feel quite right.

He can't really put his finger on it as he gets up to take a shower. He's a little confused as he strips off his shirt, wondering if he was really that exhausted that he forgot to put on shorts before he went to bed the night before. It's all sort of...fuzzy...

The real problem comes when he gets to his closet...and it's filled with girls' clothes.

He lets himself freak out for...maybe a minute. He frantically searches every hanger, his bureau, even under the bed, but there's nothing he can wear. And he damn sure can't run around the Barge in just a towel.

It takes a while, but he finally finds a pair of gym shorts in an unlabeled box in the back of his closet. There's also a couple of t-shirts in there, and Alan doesn't understand what it's doing there. It's not supposed to be in that back corner, underneath his case of carbon arrow shafts. It's taking up the space where another box should be...

Alan takes a deep breath and shakes his head. He's already lost it once, he can't let himself fall apart again. Besides, he has to find Lydia and make sure she's okay. Maybe this was one of those floods he kept hearing about, but one that just...swapped out all their clothes?...

He slides on the shorts, not bothering with a shirt. It's already weird enough, wearing someone else's clothes. Grabbing his comm, and the sheath with his ring daggers, Alan stalks out of his cabin and into the halls, where anyone can run into him.

First, he'll check on Lydia. Then they can make sure the rest of the pack is okay.]

[PACK FILTER]

Guys? Something weird is going on.

[The male face with a certain familiar bone structure is bouncing a little on the screen. He's not bothering to keep his voice down, and he's clearly walking through the ship's corridors...and he's not even remotely happy.]

I woke up, and all my clothes? Gone. It's like I'm living in a girl's room. I just...this isn't right. So just let me know you're all okay, or I'm gonna come and break your cabin doors down. [The threat is quiet, gentled with a sliver of forced humor, but the concern in his tone is very genuine.]

[Private to Lydia]

Lyds? You okay, babe?

{GENDERSWAPPED ALLISON! XD All of "Alan" Argent's replies will come from youowemeanewbow.}

Comments

[lydiascreams]

[Pack Filter]
[There's an unfamiliar male voice in the communicator all of the sudden. Lydia picks it up and at first she sees a very good looking guy in it. Then she realizes this is a pack-only message and it freaks her out a little because did someone hack their previous messages?

Then she sees it. She sees her best friend's room in the background. And this good looking guy definitely resembles Allison in a weird way. And he's shirtless.

She's seen the other messages on the network, so she's trying really hard (maybe not that hard) not to smirk when she starts her own video.]

No breaking down of doors necessary, looks like we've got our next flood.

[Private to... Allison?]
[And then she gets the private message and the boy version of her best friend is calling her babe? This has potential to get as awkward as the mirror barge did with Stiles. Although hopefully not as violent.]

Yep, totally fine. Got my room and my clothes. [And her boobs, which apparently can't be said about Allison.] Are you okay?

[youowemeanewbow]

[Pack Filter]

[Alan raises an eyebrow in visible confusion.] And it's a...closet swap?

[Private to Lydia]

[With a heavy sigh, Alan shakes his head.] No, I'm not, I'm wearing gym shorts that aren't mine, and all of my clothes are missing. But it's weird, 'cause my weapons stuff is still in my closet, you know? It's just...

Look, I'm on the way to your cabin, okay? The weirdness freaked me out, I just...I wanna see you. [And make damn sure she really is okay. After his arrival, seeing what the port did to her, to all his friends...

Alan wasn't going to be satisfied until he had her in front of him...and possibly chained to his side until he knew exactly what this flood was all about. And if not his side, then Stiles' side.]

[BFF Filter]

[lydiascreams]

I don't know the specifics yet.

[Nope, not a closet swap. Really these floods should come with a whole new wardrobe. She wouldn't have minded some of the Princess clothes, if nothing else, so she could transform them into something wearable. And a lot shorter.

But for now, she's getting up and walking to her closet.]

Of course, sweetie. Just come over. [And then she's looking through her boyfriend pile, which, has a couple of Jackson's shirts (that at the time, she might have kept on purpose and resisted the urge to burn later), and one of Aiden's. She looks at it for a moment then puts it away, picking up the one with the Hugo Boss symbol on it instead.]

This should fit you, so I'll set it aside for you.

[BFF Filter]

[youowemeanewbow]

[And just like that, Lydia's already going through the Trophies, as Alan likes to call them, brisk and efficient and level-headed as you please. It makes his chest tight with a familiar swell of warmth and affection...the same one Scout always made him feel.

Maybe it was Alan's own damn fault for loving too easily, but Lydia Martin had him by the balls from that first half-assed introduction from Jackson. He would have done anything to be with her...but he clued in pretty early that she was legit in love with Jackson...and then there was Stiles. Stiles, who probably saved his sanity by simple virtue of being Scout's best friend, and showing him that being Lydia's friend could be enough...Stiles, who was out of his depth, but probably the only guy that, in Alan's mind, would ever deserve Lydia because he was as crazy about her as Alan was, and in all the same ways.

Lydia would never be his girlfriend. She'd never even know he was in love with her...but she was everything else in the world to him, and it was enough. Then after he broke up with Scout, it was everything to him. And maybe that was why being friends with Scout after the breakup stung so much sometimes: Lydia would always own a big piece of his heart, and he was okay with that.

Scout...she owned the rest, and his soul, too. And that, he couldn't live without. That, he had to earn back.

In spite of himself, Alan grins into the comm, shaking his head.]

Lyds, I could kiss you. [The words are said with playful fondness.] I'm on my way.

[He's heading out of his cabin when he pauses to look down at his bare feet, then sighs and shakes his head as he continues on.]

You, uh...wouldn't happen to have any shoes in the Trophy Closet, too, would you?

[BFF Filter]

[lydiascreams]

Trophy closet? [There's a smirk with that, not a bad name.]

No such luck on the shoes but maybe--

[She pauses, because she doesn't know if Allison is from a different world like her mirror self was? And if she's a boy, maybe one of the boys is a girl? She'll keep it vague. She doesn't even know Allison's name.]

-- We can get you one of the boys to let you borrow one.

[BFF Filter]

[youowemeanewbow]

[That brings Alan up a little short as he pads down the corridor in his bare feet. There's only one other boy in their group, and Jackson isn't on board...

...unless she means the guy Scout's dating. And that makes his chest tight, makes bile rise in the back of his throat on the heels of that freshly opened wound. It's odd for Lydia to say anything that...careless, not thoughtless, but maybe it's part of the flood. Or, maybe, he's being too sensitive.

So he sighs discreetly and frowns, making a face as he does.]

Did Stiles' cabin get fucked over by the flood, too? I mean, my feet are a little bigger than his, but we leave stuff at each other's places all the time. [He perks up a little, suddenly hopeful.] Maybe he's got an old pair of my sneakers tangled up in his lacrosse gear.

[BFF Filter]

[lydiascreams]

[His pause and his reaction make her pause. She has no idea what that was, but she will definitely think twice before mentioning 'the boys' again. She never wants to hurt her best friend, no matter which version of her.

But then she-- he? This is weird. He. Lydia doesn't want to confuse --him. He mentions Stiles and it's a relief. Because at least Stiles should be a boy regardless. And she can definitely work with that.]

I haven't seen Stiles around since the flood started but we can definitely check. If nothing else, I'm sure we can find you a pair of flip-flops somewhere. Or we can ask the Admiral for one.

He got me dresses when I was a Princess in the past flood.

[Filter]

[haic]

Who--?

[Scott manages to cut himself off. He manages to stopper the rising concern that some strange dude is contacting him. Them. Filters, whatever. He has bigger problems to worry about. Namely, being an actual hot girl.

The Barge is weird.

At least he recognizes Allison's room. (And those shorts, those look familiar, too.)]

Um - it's. It's a flood. Do you need to borrow something...? [Scott's clothes are hanging off him, but at least he can provide.

[Filter]

[youowemeanewbow]

[Alan's features softened a little at seeing Scout, and he almost smiles...until he realizes he doesn't have a shirt on, and suddenly feels very awkward about that.

Clearing his throat, he nods.] Yeah, um...yeah, that would be good. [Of course, he's trying to remember if she has any of his stuff still...like he was pretty sure he still had some of hers until that box of things in his closet replaced the one that had a couple things she'd left behind at his place, things he quietly held onto until she asked him to give them back...until a day possibly came when she might not need to, when he'd deserve her again.]

But, Scout, I, uh...I don't think-- [Then he's looking, really looking, and...she's wearing what looks like boys' clothes. So this weird closet-swap flood hit her, too.

Feeling a weird sort of relief, and a paralyzing fear of awkwardness, he smiles and nods.]

I'd appreciate it if I could borrow a couple things, thanks. And, uh...flood hit my closet, too. You want me to grab you some stuff? Or you could just come to my cabin...

[And that makes him wince, because it sounds like a total proposition. Yep: he's an ass...]

[Filter]

[haic]

[It kind of sounds like a proprosition, and Scott realizes abruptly that bras are....good things for girls to have. He, of course, doesn't have one. He crosses his arms over the giant white tee shirt that he is basically swimming in.]

Um, yeah, okay, I'll just--

[He pauses, though, half turned toward his closet, as something plays over in his head. When he looks back at Allison, his brow is pulled together: the expression is pretty much as confused and adorable as ever.]

Did you just call me Scout?

[Filter]

[youowemeanewbow]

[And that adorable, confused expression kills him just a little inside. It's not as bad as the other day, when she asked to adjust their movie night...when he realized she'd found someone else...but it still hurts, and he needs to just...get to the range and hit something. Or maybe see if he can sneak a beer at the pub, or...something.

So instead of letting it show, he grins at her: warm, open, and fond, if just slightly confused himself.]

Yyyyeah, I did. I mean, the one time I called you Girl Scout, you punched my arm so hard you bruised the bone. I mean...lucky for you, I'm not intimidated by a strong, independent werewolf woman, so...

[Filter]

[haic]

[His mouth opens, closes, opens again, only nothing comes out. He just gapes for a long few seconds, trying to make any of that make sense. Scout. Girl Scout? He's about to ask what the hell she's talking about when it clicks into place. She doesn't recognize her own room.]

You....You think I've always been a girl?

[He's just a little baffled. Just a little.

Okay, he's a lot baffled. Scout?]

[Filter]

[youowemeanewbow]

[Alan's expression darkens with deeper confusion and growing concern. Maybe this flood is more than just closets being screwed with...it's like Scout has no idea who she is. He doesn't want to believe that, but...]

Scout... [He trails off with a quiet huff of humorless laughter and a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.] Of course you have been! You...do remember us dating, right? 'Cause I'm straight, and I'd remember dating a dude.

[That cold stillness fills his gut as he speaks, because the idea that she doesn't remember their relationship...it brings back feelings he hasn't experienced since shooting Boyd and Erica that night in the woods. Arrow after arrow until his dad shot up his bow...slice after slice through the air, and all that blood...

If Scout's forgotten him, he'll find someone to hold responsible. He'll see that blood again.]

Pack Filter

[voluntaryapnea]

[Stiles is actually sleeping when an unfamiliar voice startles him into consciousness. He opens his eyes and lifts his head from the pillow where his face has been buried for the last -- who knows how long. One of his arms is dangling over the side of the bed and his legs are stretched across the width of the mattress rather than the length.

He tries to make sense of what's being said. Like I'm living in a girl's room. Huh? Shaking his head, he reaches over to his nightstand and grabs the comm, eyebrows furrowing sleepily at the unfamiliar face. It takes him a moment to realize that said unfamiliar face is in Allison's room. He sits up, trying to figure out what the hell is going on.]

Who are you? And why are you in Allison's room? [Now he's alarmed.]

Pack Filter

[youowemeanewbow]

[Stiles gets a mocking little laugh and a glare for his trouble.]

Hahahahaha--funny, dude, only not. C'mon, Stiles, wake up! It's me, and all my damn clothes are gone! I'm heading over to see if Lyds has anything in the Trophy Closet I can wear...can you check and see if maybe I left sneakers in your room at some point or something? Everything in our rooms back home being in our cabins and all...check your lacrosse gear! I know we swapped shoes at least once or twice at practice.

It's a flood or something...you might want to check and make sure your closet isn't full of miniskirts and high heels or something. [He pauses, then tilts his head in mock thoughtfulness, the oh-so-serious and openly fond teasing that can only come from a boy who sees Stiles as a brother just as readily as Scout does.]

Though I don't know...Lyds might be into that. You sure got the legs for it.

Pack Filter

[voluntaryapnea]

[He is...so not awake enough for this. Because the guy is talking about Lydia, and he's in Allison's room and he's acting like he knows Stiles and...what? It takes him a moment of staring at the guy to notice how similar his features are to Allison's.

And it dawns on him. This is Allison. Sort of. Except Allison is a guy.

...definitely not awake enough for this.]

Right. Okay. Sneakers. [Flood. That makes sense. He nods, rubbing a hand over his face tiredly. ] Uh, what size sneakers do you wear...?

[He blinks at the comment about Lydia, though and he looks down at his legs, frowning. ]

Hey.

Pack Filter

[youowemeanewbow]

Same size I've always worn, genius. [The remark is sarcastic, but that same blatant fondness is in his tone, and his smile is warm, melting into a deep, rich chuckle that manages to have the same cadence as Allison's merry giggle despite the difference in tone when Stiles looks to his legs and gets huffy.]

Just see if you got anything I can use laying around and bring it over, will you? Lyds claims I can ask the Admiral for stuff, but... [He trails off, sobering a little at the thought, then shrugs.]

I dunno, I'd feel weird about it. Like...getting too deep in debt? I don't want it to affect my deal or anything, you know?

Pack Filter

[voluntaryapnea]

[He's already wondering who else has been affected by this flood and he's so very grateful that he's not one of them this time. It isn't that he hasn't wondered what it's like to be a girl because he's pretty sure every guy has wondered that and vice versa because it's just a normal curiosity -- to wonder what it's like to be something that you aren't. He's wondered what it's like to be a werewolf and a banshee and an emissary and a vampire but it doesn't mean he actually wants to be any of those things. He just wonders. A lot. ]

Yeah, I'll see what I can find. I'll bring some stuff over.

[And it dawns on him that this could be even weirder in a way, because Allison could have realized she'd never been a boy and then there could be all these awkward conversations about things like peeing while standing up and wow, no. Just...no.]

I don't think asking the Admiral for stuff affects our deals. I mean I haven't heard anything about that. [And he recently did ask for inhalers for Scott.]

Pack Filter

[youowemeanewbow]

Yeah, well, you know my life: I end up paying for everything. [He says it with a bleak, matter of fact way that speaks to his dark outlook on life.

He pays for the fact his family hates werewolves. He pays for the fact that Mom didn't get the daughter she wanted. He even seems to pay for the family he's found in the pack by having to watch Stiles slowly stolen from them...

Shaking his head, he forces the darker thoughts aside with a warmer smile as he gave Stiles his attention again.]

Y'know, except with you guys...anyway. Get your ass over here, Batman. When I'm dressed, maybe we can hit the dining hall and grab some food or something?

spam

[mirrortouched]

[ She nearly crashes headfirst into him, her own head down as she mutters viciously to herself and tries to do something with tying this multitude of hair back. It's not a headbutt by any means, but she does jerk her arms when she realizes with a start that there's someone in front of her, an unfamiliar face. She just about elbows him square in the chin.

Is that a personal decision thing? The shorts? The shirtless? It's not difficult to tell what this flood is, and she sincerely doubts it.

For a moment, Wil just stands there awkwardly, both hands up as she says a 'sorry, sorry' under her breath and peers him over. ]

Something tells me you're at a particular - lack for clothing that fits you.

[ Her own is male-oriented after all, or perhaps just tomboyish. A too-big flannel and slacks that drag a bit on the floor. ]

spam

[youowemeanewbow]

[Alan catches the woman before she can fall, reacting with a hunter's speed as he grabs her elbows and steadies her, merely wincing as her head glances off his chin. Holding her away a little, he releases her when he's convinced she won't fall over and they stand there...staring at each other.

And then he remembers he's just wearing gym shorts.

Blushing a little, he folds his arms...not that he's trying to cover up, it's a purely defensive gesture, mind you...and nods, trying to look invested in what she's saying instead of uncomfortable about being half naked in front of a kind of frumpy, but otherwise attractive older woman.]

You could say that, yeah. I, uh...I haven't been here long, so I'm assuming this is one of those flood things?

[Those same hunter's eyes are looking her over, however...being that Lydia Martin is his best friend, he's sort of learned to play the role of gay best friend...minus the gay part...and is noting her clothes along with the closet full of girls' stuff in his own cabin.]

My closet's full of...girls' stuff...if you woke up with guy stuff, you're welcome to see if you can find anything to wear in mine? [He pauses, offering her his hand.] I'm Alan, by the way.

spam

[mirrortouched]

[ Wil lets out a huff of a laugh, self-deprecating. ] Then you're nearly as new as I am.

This is one of those flood things. An admittedly unfortunate one, though certainly none so destructive as what else I've come across here. I'm Will - [ Sigh. No, nothing's changed. ] I'm Wil Graham.

[ It's less psychologically damaging, being a woman, and more of a physical distraction. Just because she's a girl now doesn't mean that certain - proclivities have changed. It means she's largely unphased by the shirtless man in front of her, and more with a vague kind of concern.

She hesitates, and grasps Alan's hand to shake. Her own fingers are still a bit calloused, she finds that small familiarity, from years of yard labor and mechanical work. ]

No. [ That's a blurt, a bit hurried to turn down the offer. Woman's clothing. They'd certainly be less ill-fitting. There's a hesitance as she lets her hand drop and shifts her slacks up higher to keep them in place. ]

Have you got anything simple?

[ That's a little more desperate. She doesn't want to be yanking up her pants all day. ] You're - welcome to my humble closet as well, if you'd like. We could work out a trade?

spam

[youowemeanewbow]

[The modicum of desperation in her tone, along with the vocabulary and the way she sort of looks at him without really seeing him...Alan can't help but think that Lydia would be like this if she weren't...well, Lydia. It makes him smile and soften just a little, because he doesn't get to actually help as often as he'd like. It's nice to be able to quietly act by his own Code, something worlds away from the one family tradition forces his father and him to follow.

We Protect Those Who Cannot Protect Themselves. It had so much more meaning than We Hunt Those Who Hunt Us, and it did a lot more good, too.

Still smiling, he nods gently, gesturing for her to follow if she wants.]

I do. Pretty sure there's at least a few pairs of jeans you can try out. C'mon, I'm this way.

spam

[mirrortouched]

[ He doesn't seem as confused as Wil feels, more or less comfortable - comfortable? - in his skin than Wil feels in her own. It's not as if she doesn't have some degree of familiarity with a female body, obviously, just not on himself. Herself. She doesn't know what to think, and she doesn't know the first place to begin.

Clothes seem like a rational start, and she follows after Alan almost immediately. ]

So who are you when you're not being Alan?

[ She asks curiously, an experiment. These floods can bring on just about anything, insofar as she can tell in the short time she's been here. This one seems fairly straightforward already, though maybe not so much as she thinks. ]

spam

[youowemeanewbow]

[That makes Alan curious as he glanced over at her with a raised eyebrow. It's...an innocuous question, maybe a little odd, but he's used to normal questions worded in ways that would make most people's eyes cross.

He is, after all, friends with Stiles Stilinski...and Coach Finstock hasn't given him an aneurysm yet, so...]

A warden? [The reply is slow, uncertain...he's clearly not sure what, precisely, she's asking, but he's taking a shot in the dark.] A sharpshooter? Student, best friend...

[And because there is a supernatural element on the ship...]

...hunter?