Huh. Kinda sounds like an inconsequential use for a potent magical item.
[ But hey, witches gonna witch. Derek relinquishes the plant, wiping his hand off on his sweats and then giving his hand a tentative sniff. Unsurprisingly, it's still disgusting. God, cool, now he needs new skin. ]
Wouldn't have had to do that if they had a werewolf on staff. We can see in the dark, we can hear through walls. Less said about our senses of smell, the better.
[ He's - ah - complained about that enough today. ]
[Before he went to school. Before he banished her. Before she died. He doesn't want to talk too much about Amalia. Anyway.]
That's funny, though. Inconsequential use. How would you use magic? Sparingly? It's not like we're going to run out of it.
[Magic is just. A part of everyday life. A part of religion. Nick uses it for mundane reasons. He picks the candle up from the hand of glory and puts it back in the jar, and seals it up, and thinks about it. He opens the spice rack, and takes out the cinnamon, then dusts it over the top of the jar, and takes Derek's hand.
He puts that on top of the jar too, and brings his hands up over it. A moment passes - the spell is cast - the smell is gone.]
[ He looks at Nick like it's a mildly insane thing to ask. Magic's - dangerous, and the only person he genuinely, inherently trusted with it is Stiles, who by definition was only able to use it when it was good and helpful. He's not gonna elaborate if Nick doesn't ask, but he is gonna look ten years younger when a dusting of cinnamon and a few quiet moments is all it takes for the smell to be gone. Again, he's just... a dog, excited by a magic trick.
He breathes in as deep as he can, hand over his chest, then exhales. Another deep breath, in and out. He feels so much better. He gives Nick a few enthusiastic nods, which is a little at odds with the whole stern eyebrows and somehow-grumpy-jawline thing he's got going on, but then he reaches out and gives him an unnecessarily hard fistbump to the chest. Pow, right in the ribs. ]
[He says it without much judgement. Werewolves are different. Derek is a different kind of werewolf. He looks at Derek for a moment, considers him, takes his time. What kind of favor does he expect Nick to collect?
He won't go for something sexual. Is they're going to make out, he will just do it.]
Because I wouldn't. I don't trust magic. I don't trust people who use magic. You're barely an exception.
[ Nick's more than just barely an exception, Derek's just - being Derek. He's not saying any of this maliciously, or anything, he's just gotta be combative when he can be combative. Honestly, he also didn't have anything in mind for what Nick would owe him, he was just saying he's grateful - but he does narrow his eyes, mildly annoyed, when Nick calls in any old debts he might have. What's he talking about? Warding the house? Crashing here? Waking Nick up to do this in the first place? SEEMS FAKE ]
Okay, well. I owe you one thing, and you're on a ticking clock, here. You've got thirty seconds to come up with something before the deal's off. I'm not that grateful.
[He gives him a casual, easy look. Derek thinks that the debts he owes will never be collected. But Nick isn't quite that easy to get away from. He nods his head up a little.]
I mean... I'm staying in Reggie's house. It just happens to be yours, too.
[ Which is - technically probably not true? Nick's the dom, so. The place is probably literally in his name. Still, a witchy wizardy devil-carrying devil boy is implying that Derek is in his debt, and that is wildly ominous to someone who is a little spooked by magic. Derek doesn't like the feeling he's getting here.
So - he raises his hands a little, trying to look disarmed. ]
Just gonna cut this off at the pass. You're not getting my soul, if that's what you're after.
It's the other way around. This is my house, that happens to be Reggie's too.
[Nick was here first, so, strictly speaking. Anyway. He looks at Derek with a slight aura of disbelief; what the heaven would he do with a soul? He isn't the Dark Lord, he's just hosting - imprisoning? - the Dark Lord.]
Contrary to popular belief, souls are not really a viable currency. What exactly would I do with a soul?
[Witches are in the business of slightly more practical things.]
[ Derek rolls his eyes, looks at Nick like he thinks he's stupid, then makes a little wide-eyed half nod and sweeping hand gesture that could very generously be interpreted as "thank you for letting me crash here". He pushes on. ]
I don't know. Bind me as an eternal servant, or whatever. Get in my head and making me see and believe things that aren't real. It's a soul. I'm sure there's tons of things you can do with it.
Edited (wait grammar im tired shh) 2019-11-25 20:33 (UTC)
[Here they are, a pair of handsome young men wearing very little in the middle of the night, having an honest to god conversation about the things one can or cannot do with a mortal soul. Nick's soul was given to the Dark Lord a long time ago.
Anyway. He sits at the counter in one of the high top chairs.]
To bind you as my eternal servant, I would need your consent, and you to sign it in blood, but your soul probably wouldn't be necessary. And getting in your head to see things and believe things that aren't real? That's a really simple spell.
Wow, hey, that's the opposite of reassuring! Great work. Nick's making sense, of course - all Jennifer had to do was slit a few virgin throats to get the magic she needed to screw with his head and secure his loyalty, and he knows how powerful blood can be. Nick tells Derek not to worry, but. Come on, dude. Derek's visibly unhappy. ]
Derek opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. Closes it. Stares at Nick for a good long, long amount of time. Six seconds. Maybe seven. He stares, and he stares, and he stares, and he ultimately decides that - you know what? He's just gonna go home in the morning. Problem solved. ]
... So, yeah. Getting rid of that smell for me was a pretty cool trick.
[ Something specific, yeah. This wasn't exactly how Derek imagined diving into this conversation, but fuck it, they're here. He's not going to get into this in the kitchen, though - Derek nods his head backwards the room he's been crashing in, padding ahead without waiting for Nick to follow along behind him. Once they're both in, he'll shut the door. He doesn't care if Reggie overhears, but - he wants to do this right.
He'll gesture to the bed, too, telling Nick to sit down. He's not going to start this until he does, so if he has to fold his arms over his chest for a while, he will. Eventually, though - ]
Its this kind of conversation. He sits on the bed, still in his underwear, and leans back into the headboard. His legs come up a little; and he looks at Derek for a moment.
He wants to give something to Reggie.
Okay.]
You do know that our contract is permanent, right?
[He says it in case that's what he wants to give him - a collar.]
[ Derek's stomach tightens. Not because of anything they're talking about, just - permanent contracts remind him of Stiles, and he's still not at the point where thinking about Stiles doesn't hurt. The feeling only lasts for a second, but a second's all it takes for him to get kinda annoyed. ]
How about instead of making assumptions you just... listen, for a second? Like a good boy.
[ He's - oh, he's so close to just reaching his hand out and covering Nick's mouth to stop him from talking. He's so close. He doesn't, though, because he knows that being his usual dickheaded self isn't the best way to go about this. His fingers twitch at his side, but that's it. Reelin' it in. ]
I don't want to sign a contract with him. You're good for him. Last thing I want to do is interfere with that.
[Nick just gives him a look, one that says he will absolutely curse his dick to fall off it he doesn't stop acting so patronizing and get to the point. He has dealt with worse shit than this, but he doesn't need to deal with this from a werewolf who is only a few years older than he is, and who doesn't know anything about magic.
He raises his eyebrows a little.]
Then what is it?
[He doesn't imagine that it could be something like a bite.]
[ It's a... very fair look to give, but that doesn't stop Derek from meeting it with raised eyebrows of his own. There's a couple of seconds of silence before Derek just pushes ahead. No point in hedging. ]
I'm building a pack. I want him to be a part of it.
[ There's a lot he could go into here - why he's picking Reggie, why he only wants a pack now, after being here for eight months and disappearing for two. Derek's not going to volunteer any information he doesn't have to, though, not without being prompted - otherwise, he runs the risk of making this a sales pitch instead of an honest conversation. ]
I've already offered him the bite. Consenting isn't a decision he can make without your input, so. I'm here to ask for your input.
His first instinct is to say no. But he doesn't do it. His first instinct, he knows, is bourn out of selfishness. He feels it under his skin, and he doesn't like it. So he keeps his mouth closed for a moment. The idea of Reggie losing his mortality makes his skin itch, because-
-he's not sure why. Maybe he just worries. But the point is that this isn't his decision, at the end of the day. If Reggie wants the bite, then Reggie should get it. If Reggie wants to become a werewolf-]
If he wants it, that's not really any of my business.
[ A year ago, Derek would've just taken this as a win and left. Hell, a year ago, he wouldn't have even bothered having this conversation with Nick, and he sure as shit wouldn't be as willing as he is to tell Reggie the whole truth of the bite - he would've worked harder to seduce Reggie, he would've lied to his face. He would've been... kind of horrible.
But. He's not like that anymore. Not after Erica. Not after Boyd. ]
It... is your business. He doesn't want to upset you. As far as I can tell, he values your happiness much more than he values the bite.
[ Derek keeps looking at Nick, even after he looks away. He folds his arms over his chest and just... slowly exhales. ]
Nick - I made too many mistakes with my pack back home. I can't make any more. This needs to feel right. I'm not going to turn him if everyone affected isn't completely on board.
Are you going to expect his loyalty to you to supersede his loyalty to me?
[Because-
-because he doesn't know if he would be comfortable with that. With someone else coming first for him. He feels a tug in his belly, because he knows that this is that witch in him, the thing that says that love has to be all-encompassing. That's what his love for the Dark Lord was supposed to be.
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[Throw up, he means. He reaches out for the hand of glory, and once he takes it, the light goes out for Derek again.]
It's only illuminated for the holder. We weren't allowed to have them in school. The teachers used them for bed checks.
[Satan, the Academy. Nick misses it, even thought it was-
-even despite everything.]
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[ But hey, witches gonna witch. Derek relinquishes the plant, wiping his hand off on his sweats and then giving his hand a tentative sniff. Unsurprisingly, it's still disgusting. God, cool, now he needs new skin. ]
Wouldn't have had to do that if they had a werewolf on staff. We can see in the dark, we can hear through walls. Less said about our senses of smell, the better.
[ He's - ah - complained about that enough today. ]
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[Before he went to school. Before he banished her. Before she died. He doesn't want to talk too much about Amalia. Anyway.]
That's funny, though. Inconsequential use. How would you use magic? Sparingly? It's not like we're going to run out of it.
[Magic is just. A part of everyday life. A part of religion. Nick uses it for mundane reasons. He picks the candle up from the hand of glory and puts it back in the jar, and seals it up, and thinks about it. He opens the spice rack, and takes out the cinnamon, then dusts it over the top of the jar, and takes Derek's hand.
He puts that on top of the jar too, and brings his hands up over it. A moment passes - the spell is cast - the smell is gone.]
Better?
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[ He looks at Nick like it's a mildly insane thing to ask. Magic's - dangerous, and the only person he genuinely, inherently trusted with it is Stiles, who by definition was only able to use it when it was good and helpful. He's not gonna elaborate if Nick doesn't ask, but he is gonna look ten years younger when a dusting of cinnamon and a few quiet moments is all it takes for the smell to be gone. Again, he's just... a dog, excited by a magic trick.
He breathes in as deep as he can, hand over his chest, then exhales. Another deep breath, in and out. He feels so much better. He gives Nick a few enthusiastic nods, which is a little at odds with the whole stern eyebrows and somehow-grumpy-jawline thing he's got going on, but then he reaches out and gives him an unnecessarily hard fistbump to the chest. Pow, right in the ribs. ]
Yes. Nice. Owe you something. Name your price.
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[He says it without much judgement. Werewolves are different. Derek is a different kind of werewolf. He looks at Derek for a moment, considers him, takes his time. What kind of favor does he expect Nick to collect?
He won't go for something sexual. Is they're going to make out, he will just do it.]
You owe me more than one something.
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[ Nick's more than just barely an exception, Derek's just - being Derek. He's not saying any of this maliciously, or anything, he's just gotta be combative when he can be combative. Honestly, he also didn't have anything in mind for what Nick would owe him, he was just saying he's grateful - but he does narrow his eyes, mildly annoyed, when Nick calls in any old debts he might have. What's he talking about? Warding the house? Crashing here? Waking Nick up to do this in the first place? SEEMS FAKE ]
Okay, well. I owe you one thing, and you're on a ticking clock, here. You've got thirty seconds to come up with something before the deal's off. I'm not that grateful.
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[You can't alpha him, Derek.]
You're staying in my house.
[He gives him a casual, easy look. Derek thinks that the debts he owes will never be collected. But Nick isn't quite that easy to get away from. He nods his head up a little.]
Consider this one free.
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[ Which is - technically probably not true? Nick's the dom, so. The place is probably literally in his name. Still, a witchy wizardy devil-carrying devil boy is implying that Derek is in his debt, and that is wildly ominous to someone who is a little spooked by magic. Derek doesn't like the feeling he's getting here.
So - he raises his hands a little, trying to look disarmed. ]
Just gonna cut this off at the pass. You're not getting my soul, if that's what you're after.
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[Nick was here first, so, strictly speaking. Anyway. He looks at Derek with a slight aura of disbelief; what the heaven would he do with a soul? He isn't the Dark Lord, he's just hosting - imprisoning? - the Dark Lord.]
Contrary to popular belief, souls are not really a viable currency. What exactly would I do with a soul?
[Witches are in the business of slightly more practical things.]
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[ Derek rolls his eyes, looks at Nick like he thinks he's stupid, then makes a little wide-eyed half nod and sweeping hand gesture that could very generously be interpreted as "thank you for letting me crash here". He pushes on. ]
I don't know. Bind me as an eternal servant, or whatever. Get in my head and making me see and believe things that aren't real. It's a soul. I'm sure there's tons of things you can do with it.
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[Here they are, a pair of handsome young men wearing very little in the middle of the night, having an honest to god conversation about the things one can or cannot do with a mortal soul. Nick's soul was given to the Dark Lord a long time ago.
Anyway. He sits at the counter in one of the high top chairs.]
To bind you as my eternal servant, I would need your consent, and you to sign it in blood, but your soul probably wouldn't be necessary. And getting in your head to see things and believe things that aren't real? That's a really simple spell.
[A pause.]
But I wouldn't worry about any of that.
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Wow, hey, that's the opposite of reassuring! Great work. Nick's making sense, of course - all Jennifer had to do was slit a few virgin throats to get the magic she needed to screw with his head and secure his loyalty, and he knows how powerful blood can be. Nick tells Derek not to worry, but. Come on, dude. Derek's visibly unhappy. ]
I'm worried.
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You really don't have to.
It would upset Reggie. A lot.
[Which is. Probably also concerning, that Nick's check is Reggie Mantle.]
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Derek opens his mouth. Closes it. Opens it again. Closes it. Stares at Nick for a good long, long amount of time. Six seconds. Maybe seven. He stares, and he stares, and he stares, and he ultimately decides that - you know what? He's just gonna go home in the morning. Problem solved. ]
... So, yeah. Getting rid of that smell for me was a pretty cool trick.
[ Topic change. He is dying inside. ]
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There's some tea that helps with sleep in the top tea tin. There's no wolfsbane in it.
[Which you know. It's important to not poison Derek.]
If you can't sleep.
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[ Just saying. No hard feelings. Besides, Derek's not all that tired - now that he's up, he'll be up until tonight. Dude doesn't sleep much. ]
I did want to talk to you, though. If you're not going back to bed any time soon.
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[Well now he's not. He just looks at Derek, his eyebrows up a little bit, expressive and curious.]
Is there something specific, then?
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He'll gesture to the bed, too, telling Nick to sit down. He's not going to start this until he does, so if he has to fold his arms over his chest for a while, he will. Eventually, though - ]
There's something I want to give to Reggie.
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Its this kind of conversation. He sits on the bed, still in his underwear, and leans back into the headboard. His legs come up a little; and he looks at Derek for a moment.
He wants to give something to Reggie.
Okay.]
You do know that our contract is permanent, right?
[He says it in case that's what he wants to give him - a collar.]
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How about instead of making assumptions you just... listen, for a second? Like a good boy.
[ He's - oh, he's so close to just reaching his hand out and covering Nick's mouth to stop him from talking. He's so close. He doesn't, though, because he knows that being his usual dickheaded self isn't the best way to go about this. His fingers twitch at his side, but that's it. Reelin' it in. ]
I don't want to sign a contract with him. You're good for him. Last thing I want to do is interfere with that.
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He raises his eyebrows a little.]
Then what is it?
[He doesn't imagine that it could be something like a bite.]
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I'm building a pack. I want him to be a part of it.
[ There's a lot he could go into here - why he's picking Reggie, why he only wants a pack now, after being here for eight months and disappearing for two. Derek's not going to volunteer any information he doesn't have to, though, not without being prompted - otherwise, he runs the risk of making this a sales pitch instead of an honest conversation. ]
I've already offered him the bite. Consenting isn't a decision he can make without your input, so. I'm here to ask for your input.
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His first instinct is to say no. But he doesn't do it. His first instinct, he knows, is bourn out of selfishness. He feels it under his skin, and he doesn't like it. So he keeps his mouth closed for a moment. The idea of Reggie losing his mortality makes his skin itch, because-
-he's not sure why. Maybe he just worries. But the point is that this isn't his decision, at the end of the day. If Reggie wants the bite, then Reggie should get it. If Reggie wants to become a werewolf-]
If he wants it, that's not really any of my business.
[He looks slightly away.]
But you better tell him the whole truth of it.
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But. He's not like that anymore. Not after Erica. Not after Boyd. ]
It... is your business. He doesn't want to upset you. As far as I can tell, he values your happiness much more than he values the bite.
[ Derek keeps looking at Nick, even after he looks away. He folds his arms over his chest and just... slowly exhales. ]
Nick - I made too many mistakes with my pack back home. I can't make any more. This needs to feel right. I'm not going to turn him if everyone affected isn't completely on board.
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[Because-
-because he doesn't know if he would be comfortable with that. With someone else coming first for him. He feels a tug in his belly, because he knows that this is that witch in him, the thing that says that love has to be all-encompassing. That's what his love for the Dark Lord was supposed to be.
Loyalty above everything else.]
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