outsiderslogs

who. Rachel (

shutupmarco) and you!
what. wandering around Zeta District in confusion
where. anywhere in Zeta District
when. right now
warnings. does Rachel count as a warning

The freaky thing is that Rachel doesn't even remember getting on the shuttle. She remembers coming home to dinner late for the third time that week because of a meeting with the other Animorphs, worried she'd get chewed out or worse, grounded, but then her mother had apparently barely noticed the time and just apologized for ordering without her. She remembers the whoosh of relief, and then a bit of a pang realizing that her cousin Jake probably wasn't getting off so easily with his mom, and -- then what? She can't remember.

They're ushered off the shuttle before she really has a chance to take any of it in. Rachel falls into step with everyone else as the offload into the seething crowds of Omega, realizes with a flutter of panic all at once that she doesn't see any of the others and also they're in space. This is some kind of space station, or maybe a giant ship. What the hell.

For a moment, she thinks it's the Yeerks. That this is some kind of Controller base ship she's somehow gotten stuck on. But while she sees plenty of humans, she doesn't see any Taxxons or Hork-Bajir, just a whole host of different alien-looking creatures she's never seen anything like before. The place doesn't seem very Yeerk-like, either. Is it an Ellimist trick? Maybe. It's too hard to tell.

She thinks all of this in the space of a few seconds, before she realizes all of the people off the shuttle are being directed one way by a group of nasty thug-looking aliens in armor, a couple of equally unpleasant-looking humans among them. "All new arrivals to Zeta District," they snarl, over and over again. Rachel brushes her hair from her face and puts on a neutral smile, walking as she's directed like she belongs there. On the inside, she's trying not to puke from panic. She's got no idea what this place is, or what all of these aliens are, or why she's here, but she's going to find out.

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Okay, there has to be something this guy isn't saying, something he's not letting her onto. Of course, everyone has secrets, but what makes this guy so willing to take her in? Rachel can't help be paranoid.

"Okay, so what, you let me crash with you, and that's it? Seriously, what's the catch?"

"There's no catch," Stiles says, and then rubs his hands over his eyes. "I mean, there's the catch that applies to everyone - you wanna live in Zeta, you pay Aria, and to pay Aria you help with repairs. But that's not my catch, I promise, that's just hers. So you can avoid that until you get a job or whatever."

Stiles is silent, and then, "Also, my room mate is kind of a diva, so, there's that - aww man, the groceries..."

Diva? Whatever, Rachel can deal with diva. Probably better than most. Marco would say that that's because she is a diva, but then -- well, the Marco here wouldn't say anything at all. Because she basically doesn't exist to him.

Ugh, whatever. Forget about him. If this guy is really offering her a place to stay, she can't exactly refuse, can she? And she's confident that if this is some kind of trap, whatever it is, she can handle it. The guy just watched her go Hork-Bajir. Not exactly a pretty sight.

"All right, fine," Rachel says, smoothing her hands over her jeans. "I could use a place to crash. But you know you haven't even told me your name, right?"

"Cool." Stiles is already nodding his head, but then she points out he hasn't told her his name and he's already scrambling, standing up at the same time she does.

"Sorry. Running for my life, watching you, kind of slipped my mind," Stiles says with a dry undercurrent, offering a hand. "Stiles Stilinski. Just Stiles is fine. And uh, you are?"

"Rachel. Just Rachel." She takes his hand to shake it, her grip surprisingly firm, and she grins at him, showing teeth. All right, all right, it's probably a little too cruel of her, but the fact that Stiles seems to be kind of afraid of her, or at least nervous around her, tickles her a little. "Nice to meet you, Stiles. I guess we're going to be roommates now."

He shakes her hand with that feeling he's had before, usually around his dad. That feeling of getting in over your head but you won't know until it's too late.

He's gotten good at ignoring that feeling.

So he gives her his best daredevil grin back (which isn't very good). "As long as you pay the rent, sounds good to me."

(It's okay, Stiles. That's the feeling that most people get around Rachel.)

"Guess I'll have to find a job," she says with an almost careless laugh, tossing her hair. Yeah, okay, this could work out. Maybe. If this Stiles guy isn't a creep. But even if he is, she can handle him. And he's already seen what she can do. "So where do you live, anyway? And are you sure your diva roommate is cool with me crashing?"

"Well, if you like cleaning up or putting things together, there's plenty to do," Stiles says with a sweeping gesture of his hand, indicating the alleyway. He steps forward, exiting the area and avoiding the mess of Batarians.

"I don't think she'll complain." Too much, at least. "And we live out in Zeta district, where all the newbs are."

Rachel makes a face, wrinkling her nose. "Yeah, not really my style. Here's hoping the job market around here is a little more flexible."

She pauses, tilting her head to the side as she looks at Stiles. All right, this might not be too bad. As a temporary setup. "So, are you going to show me to your place or what?"

"Man, good luck," Stile said honestly, shoving his hands into his pockets. When she speaks again he gives a small scoffing noise before he shakes his head.

"Yeah, definitely getting along with my room mate," he mutters before he gestures her in the direction of his and Lydia's apartment. "Come on, before someone comes along and asks what happened here."

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