[ ending up on a pirate's ship may not have been stiles stilinski's original intention.
then again, stiles' plans have not always been what one might call 'well thought out'. his mission? to get away from home for a little while. because of a ten percent probability that he might inherit his mother's disease, he was ordered to stay home when the navy started drafting. problem was, his best friend had been, considering his encounter with a creature of the night; he'd been recruited to a special ops ship, leaving stiles very much alone and very much wanting to chase after him. after all, scott might be a werewolf, but stiles isn't sure that he can make it out there without him. and that kind of goes both ways, really, because stiles is now pretty much hellbent on finding him.
so that's how he found himself on a pirate's ship. a wolf pirate ship, to be perfectly frank, because when the flags flew and he found himself face to face with the captain, he realized very quickly that he may have gotten himself in over his head.
by some grace of god, stiles wasn't forced to walk the plank (or turned into werewolf chow) on his first day, and he quickly took on what others would call "cabin boy" kind of positions--scrubbing decks, putting out lines to catch fish, adjusting the sails, the usual stuff. today, he's not doing the scrubbing of the galley he's supposed to be doing, because the teenage human is staring at maps, tracking trading patterns with his fingers.
they're supposed to be raiding english ships off the coast, but the way they're going, they're never going to get close. stiles' brow furrows and he narrows his eyes a little as he starts to track the ship's progress with one hand, then another that he saw leave from the same port, an english ship. if the winds blow this way, and they've been traveling at a speed of thirty knots an hour, then...
completely wrapped up in his maps, he doesn't even notice when another person comes into the room that he's definitely not supposed to be in. ]
HUFFS LOUDLY AND TAGS FINALLY
then again, stiles' plans have not always been what one might call 'well thought out'. his mission? to get away from home for a little while. because of a ten percent probability that he might inherit his mother's disease, he was ordered to stay home when the navy started drafting. problem was, his best friend had been, considering his encounter with a creature of the night; he'd been recruited to a special ops ship, leaving stiles very much alone and very much wanting to chase after him. after all, scott might be a werewolf, but stiles isn't sure that he can make it out there without him. and that kind of goes both ways, really, because stiles is now pretty much hellbent on finding him.
so that's how he found himself on a pirate's ship. a wolf pirate ship, to be perfectly frank, because when the flags flew and he found himself face to face with the captain, he realized very quickly that he may have gotten himself in over his head.
by some grace of god, stiles wasn't forced to walk the plank (or turned into werewolf chow) on his first day, and he quickly took on what others would call "cabin boy" kind of positions--scrubbing decks, putting out lines to catch fish, adjusting the sails, the usual stuff. today, he's not doing the scrubbing of the galley he's supposed to be doing, because the teenage human is staring at maps, tracking trading patterns with his fingers.
they're supposed to be raiding english ships off the coast, but the way they're going, they're never going to get close. stiles' brow furrows and he narrows his eyes a little as he starts to track the ship's progress with one hand, then another that he saw leave from the same port, an english ship. if the winds blow this way, and they've been traveling at a speed of thirty knots an hour, then...
completely wrapped up in his maps, he doesn't even notice when another person comes into the room that he's definitely not supposed to be in. ]