Isaac's first instinct is to try to keep space between himself and Scott - when he's acting like this, all the teenager can think of and be reminded of is his dad, his dad and Derek. It's terrifying to have Scott remind him of them. The somewhat salty bloody tang of fear is almost bleeding off every fibre of Isaac's being for a minute - probably doing nothing but to encourage this other Scott more. He can't help it, especially when he cannot get any sort of read on the one person he can always rely on.
Of course Scott is in his space before he can really contemplate the pros and cons of trying to scramble across the couch away from him. But it's not an attack like Isaac expects, it's a kiss... Sort of. If kisses were always like this from Scott, Isaac is pretty sure he wouldn't want to waste as much time as he does kissing him.
There is no sincerity to the action, the brush of lips is so different, the lack of hands more telling than anything, and Isaac doesn't react to it, instead he simply waits for Scott to draw away from him. Eyes are as cold as the ice they resemble and the look on his face is far from impressed. This isn't right.
Then he's laughing, and the look Isaac shoots Allison is probably one of the most telling ones he's ever worn. Is this asshole for real? He's almost tempted to put himself in between Scott and Allison and strong arm him away from her but he doesn't have to, Scott retreats. Isaac is almost certain that this is in fact their Scott. He looks like Scott, he smells like Scott, he sounds like Scott...
Part of Isaac thinks that this is just the other shoe falling, like he was waiting to happen, the louder part of Isaac screams that this is all wrong - even if Scott were ever to end it with him, this isn't how he'd do it. Scott wouldn't have ignored his questions - he wouldn't have acted like this, and Isaac is pretty sure at least one of his questions should have drawn an emotional response from Scott, that didn't smell and feel like... Whatever this is.
Narrowed eyes follow every movement Scott makes as Isaac tilts his head upwards slightly, it's not obvious he's scenting the air unless someone knows what they're looking for. He doesn't smell any sickness, any other odd scents on Scott, there's nothing that can tell him what the hell is going on. The tallest teenager stays quiet, observing, because weirder things has happened than mind control or brain slugs. He needs to take a step back, observe and watch. The only response Scott manages to pull from Isaac this time is a simple word, quite the opposite of his previous inquiries. This one is mixed with incredulity and slight sarcasm: ] Really?
[ If Scott thought the scents in the game room were bad, the emotions bleeding off Isaac's skin are thick, sharp, albeit only evident to Scott and himself. Bitter and warm, there's Isaac, trying to tame his anger, hold it back, but that doesn't make it any less there. Him holding it down and forcing any possible retorts back, pressed into the space between two lungs does nothing to dull the scent of nasty weather, of anger ready to boil over. It's not at Scott, as he may think, it's at the fact that someone has the gall to try to manipulate Scott like this. Manipulation is what is going on here, Isaac is sure of it. ]
Aye yo, Allie, let me show you how to do a singing bitch greasy
Isaac's first instinct is to try to keep space between himself and Scott - when he's acting like this, all the teenager can think of and be reminded of is his dad, his dad and Derek. It's terrifying to have Scott remind him of them. The somewhat salty bloody tang of fear is almost bleeding off every fibre of Isaac's being for a minute - probably doing nothing but to encourage this other Scott more. He can't help it, especially when he cannot get any sort of read on the one person he can always rely on.
Of course Scott is in his space before he can really contemplate the pros and cons of trying to scramble across the couch away from him. But it's not an attack like Isaac expects, it's a kiss... Sort of. If kisses were always like this from Scott, Isaac is pretty sure he wouldn't want to waste as much time as he does kissing him.
There is no sincerity to the action, the brush of lips is so different, the lack of hands more telling than anything, and Isaac doesn't react to it, instead he simply waits for Scott to draw away from him. Eyes are as cold as the ice they resemble and the look on his face is far from impressed. This isn't right.
Then he's laughing, and the look Isaac shoots Allison is probably one of the most telling ones he's ever worn. Is this asshole for real? He's almost tempted to put himself in between Scott and Allison and strong arm him away from her but he doesn't have to, Scott retreats. Isaac is almost certain that this is in fact their Scott. He looks like Scott, he smells like Scott, he sounds like Scott...
Part of Isaac thinks that this is just the other shoe falling, like he was waiting to happen, the louder part of Isaac screams that this is all wrong - even if Scott were ever to end it with him, this isn't how he'd do it. Scott wouldn't have ignored his questions - he wouldn't have acted like this, and Isaac is pretty sure at least one of his questions should have drawn an emotional response from Scott, that didn't smell and feel like... Whatever this is.
Narrowed eyes follow every movement Scott makes as Isaac tilts his head upwards slightly, it's not obvious he's scenting the air unless someone knows what they're looking for. He doesn't smell any sickness, any other odd scents on Scott, there's nothing that can tell him what the hell is going on. The tallest teenager stays quiet, observing, because weirder things has happened than mind control or brain slugs. He needs to take a step back, observe and watch. The only response Scott manages to pull from Isaac this time is a simple word, quite the opposite of his previous inquiries. This one is mixed with incredulity and slight sarcasm: ] Really?
[ If Scott thought the scents in the game room were bad, the emotions bleeding off Isaac's skin are thick, sharp, albeit only evident to Scott and himself. Bitter and warm, there's Isaac, trying to tame his anger, hold it back, but that doesn't make it any less there. Him holding it down and forcing any possible retorts back, pressed into the space between two lungs does nothing to dull the scent of nasty weather, of anger ready to boil over. It's not at Scott, as he may think, it's at the fact that someone has the gall to try to manipulate Scott like this. Manipulation is what is going on here, Isaac is sure of it. ]