( He hesitates, just because he didn't expect a school bus. Not a very professional outfit. It is underground.
He needs to make the call.
If he's the wrong guy, he'll take care of it. )
Yeah. Get in, everyone.
( He looks back at the house as the children enter the bus.
The front door flies open, what looked to be an older woman looking to foster, but now is still an older woman with grey hair swept in a bun. Except the knitting needles sticking out of it are being twirling in her hands. )
When they're all on, go.
( On "Go" he growls. Throwing out his hand, he extends his sharp, dripping kanima nails. Obviously, his werewolf nails did damage, but this hunter needs to be paralyzed. (What she needs is death, but it goes against his thinning moral code to kill someone in front of a bus full of kids.) What ensues is a Teen Wolf proper-worthy slow motion melee.
Jackson ducks under a knitting needle. She dodges his nails as he swipes them out. He catches the knitting needles in his hands, his razor talons meeting her needles with every clang.
[See, the other reason Alexander doesn't go into the field is because he really doesn't know when to cut and run. He's not the type to leave a person behind, no matter how dire the situation.
So after glancing over his shoulder to make sure the kids were all settled, he turns back to the hunter that Jackson is tangling with and extends his hand.]
Phasmatos somnus.
[The hunter's eyes roll into the back of their head as they drop to the ground. He waits a beat, before waving to Jackson.]
C'mon. No one gets left behind. This is a Lilo and Stitch kind of operation.
( Jackson propels forward - only to witness the near seizure of the hunter. Or. Well that -- that's effective. As effective as his kanima secretion? Maybe more. It's quicker. Is he sleeping?
Giving one more look toward the house, he boards the bus, quickly, staying at the front and holding the metal pole to keep himself up. Oh, yeah. He's not staying behind the line.
He's lucky things are how they are right now or Jackson might disparage Lilo and Stitch. There are things he liked, but yeah, not Disney.
As Alex pulls away, he takes a look back at the kids, making sure everyone seems settled and unhurt. Once he pulls onto the main road, only then does he pay actual attention to the driver. )
Thank you.
( Jackson is better at saying thank you. Still bad at saying, sorry. )
What was that?
Edited (oh my god, so bold) 2020-10-15 01:16 (UTC)
[It's probably best that Jackson did not disparage Lilo and Stitch, as the children would not have it. Alexander also doesn't mind if Jackson stays where he is, so long as he's prepared for sudden stops.
Alexander cranks the door closed and hits the gas, sending the bus rocketing down the street. Despite it's appearance, the car had some kick to it, and it was effective at getting some distance between them and the hunter.]
Sleep spell. It'll wear off eventually, and hopefully enough to give us a decent head start on the way to Virginia.
( And he thought he was sent to Maryland because that was the assignment. )
I did not sign up for the backwater territories.
( He says it more to himself, and he looks away when he says it, but he's not trying to hide that he says it. He already resents McCall. Or, Stiles. And, less, Lydia because she handed the assignment, but this is why he's going to renegotiate this 'need to know' clause.
Does that mean he needs to become pack? London is looking better and better. )
Don't know that name. I got a call, I didn't ask specifics.
[He settles into a more reasonable pace as they get further and further away, acting more like a school bus following normal driving laws than someone trying to escape.]
We don't really ask for that kind of stuff. Plausible deniability.
( Jackson's white knuckle grip lessens, too, his gaze traveling between the kids and Alex as they talk, letting his heart slow down with the pace and speed of the bus. )
Who's we? And why would you need plausible deniability. You are driving this bus to help them.
We is my organization. And "plausible deniability" isn't for us. It's for stuff like hunters and people with other dangerous powers of persuasion who want to get information about things like where we're getting our information or where the weigh stations are.
[He smirks.]
Can't give the information away if we don't know it.
( Middle management. Jackson is not middle management. He's on the frontlines. Or, he contracts. Or, he does his own thing. And then he and his boyfriend break up and he breaks good. )
I usually work with more information. With a pack out of California. I didn't know they outsourced.
[Meaning if their orphans/disowned or not. The Salvatore School takes in a lot of both.]
If their parents don't want them to stay, they can take them elsewhere. But if they don't have them, they'll have the option to stay. Be somewhere safe for kids like them.
[Well, he assumes there's some vetting. They do have a strict "No killers" policy, but he's also heard that's fairly flexible when it comes to the werewolves.]
Just like that. They have a robust scholarship program.
Nothing catches up to their school bus. It's only about forty-five minutes before they're meeting Dorian and Ms. Tig at the gates. Most of the kids are already being taken care of, whether they're being set up in a room or given rooms in town.
It's late, and until they can arrange transportation, Emma Tig offers them overnight lodging.
Jackson's never lived in a dorm before, but he did share a flat with his ex boyfriend. So, he can do one night. The stranger - Alex - is attractive.
Emma does come by a little later when they get ready for bed, knocking.
"We are a dry campus, as we have students, but I know all about having a trying day and you two are both of age. And between you and me, our Headmaster doesn't need this."
Jackson likes her. When Alex comes back from washing up before bed, Jackson's already pouring them each a glass of some very nice whiskey. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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He needs to make the call.
If he's the wrong guy, he'll take care of it. )
Yeah. Get in, everyone.
( He looks back at the house as the children enter the bus.
The front door flies open, what looked to be an older woman looking to foster, but now is still an older woman with grey hair swept in a bun. Except the knitting needles sticking out of it are being twirling in her hands. )
When they're all on, go.
( On "Go" he growls. Throwing out his hand, he extends his sharp, dripping kanima nails. Obviously, his werewolf nails did damage, but this hunter needs to be paralyzed. (What she needs is death, but it goes against his thinning moral code to kill someone in front of a bus full of kids.) What ensues is a Teen Wolf proper-worthy slow motion melee.
Jackson ducks under a knitting needle. She dodges his nails as he swipes them out. He catches the knitting needles in his hands, his razor talons meeting her needles with every clang.
She kicks him back into the side of the bus. )
Go! ( He repeats himself again. ) Get out!
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So after glancing over his shoulder to make sure the kids were all settled, he turns back to the hunter that Jackson is tangling with and extends his hand.]
Phasmatos somnus.
[The hunter's eyes roll into the back of their head as they drop to the ground. He waits a beat, before waving to Jackson.]
C'mon. No one gets left behind. This is a Lilo and Stitch kind of operation.
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Giving one more look toward the house, he boards the bus, quickly, staying at the front and holding the metal pole to keep himself up. Oh, yeah. He's not staying behind the line.
He's lucky things are how they are right now or Jackson might disparage Lilo and Stitch. There are things he liked, but yeah, not Disney.
As Alex pulls away, he takes a look back at the kids, making sure everyone seems settled and unhurt. Once he pulls onto the main road, only then does he pay actual attention to the driver. )
Thank you.
( Jackson is better at saying thank you. Still bad at saying, sorry. )
What was that?
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Alexander cranks the door closed and hits the gas, sending the bus rocketing down the street. Despite it's appearance, the car had some kick to it, and it was effective at getting some distance between them and the hunter.]
Sleep spell. It'll wear off eventually, and hopefully enough to give us a decent head start on the way to Virginia.
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( And he thought he was sent to Maryland because that was the assignment. )
I did not sign up for the backwater territories.
( He says it more to himself, and he looks away when he says it, but he's not trying to hide that he says it. He already resents McCall. Or, Stiles. And, less, Lydia because she handed the assignment, but this is why he's going to renegotiate this 'need to know' clause.
Does that mean he needs to become pack? London is looking better and better. )
How far?
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[He glances over his shoulder as they weave through the neighborhood.]
It's a hike, but you're free to get off when we stop for gas if you don't want to commit.
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I'm not getting off. I'm in this for the kids.
( Parentless children hit home in a way he doesn't speak about, that only Lydia probably sees as a correlation. )
Did Stiles send you?
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[He settles into a more reasonable pace as they get further and further away, acting more like a school bus following normal driving laws than someone trying to escape.]
We don't really ask for that kind of stuff. Plausible deniability.
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Who's we? And why would you need plausible deniability. You are driving this bus to help them.
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[He smirks.]
Can't give the information away if we don't know it.
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( Middle management. Jackson is not middle management. He's on the frontlines. Or, he contracts. Or, he does his own thing. And then he and his boyfriend break up and he breaks good. )
I usually work with more information. With a pack out of California. I didn't know they outsourced.
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[He keeps his eyes on the road, keeping them moving smoothly down the highway.]
As I said, plausible deniability.
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( They keep hidden. He gets that. They operate out of the shadows. Especially with Monroe's new network of civilized and indoctrinated hunters. )
Then you know what's out there. ( That's good to know. He keeps his eyes front now, watching the road. ) Jackson.
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[The McCall pack has been good enough to keep them in the loop, at least in that respect.]
I'm not normally in the field, but we were shorthanded tonight. As you can see by my rather inconspicuous choice of vehicle.
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( Plus, the time of night. But, he's not about to knock him for improvising. )
It was a good move.
( And a compliment! )
Where do they go, after you drop them by this school?
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[Meaning if their orphans/disowned or not. The Salvatore School takes in a lot of both.]
If their parents don't want them to stay, they can take them elsewhere. But if they don't have them, they'll have the option to stay. Be somewhere safe for kids like them.
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Just like that.
( No application. No vetting. Just. Dropped off. )
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Just like that. They have a robust scholarship program.
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( Maybe he should get a real position for this school in saving and recruitment. )
That lucrative?
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[Some of who are questionable, but Alexander's not about to judge them for doing a good thing.]
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Nothing catches up to their school bus. It's only about forty-five minutes before they're meeting Dorian and Ms. Tig at the gates. Most of the kids are already being taken care of, whether they're being set up in a room or given rooms in town.
It's late, and until they can arrange transportation, Emma Tig offers them overnight lodging.
Jackson's never lived in a dorm before, but he did share a flat with his ex boyfriend. So, he can do one night. The stranger - Alex - is attractive.
Emma does come by a little later when they get ready for bed, knocking.
"We are a dry campus, as we have students, but I know all about having a trying day and you two are both of age. And between you and me, our Headmaster doesn't need this."
Jackson likes her. When Alex comes back from washing up before bed, Jackson's already pouring them each a glass of some very nice whiskey. )
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A gift from our generous hosts?
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( He holds out the drink as he asks. )
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[Poor Ric. Alexander reaches out to take the drink with a nod.]
Thanks.
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( He couldn't tell you. And you're welcome. )
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