(closed) there were no monster, there were no moon

[mensrea]

Who: Stiles Stilinski and Jonas Ward
When: Mareuer 14
Where: Aefenglom
What: Newly minted best friends talk ADHD and flower language
Warnings: Language, TBD

[ Despite the warning of inclement weather in the afternoon, the Shopping District is packed. Folk appear to be in high spirits as they go about their business, creating an atmosphere that should be light and pleasant. And yet Stiles walks with a bow to his spine, hunched as if hunted. Even with his aching, itching hands shoved deep into pants pockets, he remains unnervingly aware of each and every nearby individual. Recently awakened Arachne senses are in overdrive, alerting Stiles of minute fluctuations in the air. Harmless movement is translated into potential threats. For example, the upward swing of someone’s arm to wave at a friend becomes a potential strike against him. The trichobothria growing in on his hands is too sensitive; paired with his paranoia and ADHD, Stiles is drowning in sensory overload. He almost regrets asking Jonas to join him today – almost, but not quite. ]

Sorry, I missed that last bit, [ he admits as his friend trails off. ] What were you saying?

[ According to the directions from a helpful Turnskin, they shouldn’t be too far from the plant and flower nursery now. Stiles tries to focus on tuning out their environment, on reaching their destination. It’ll all be worth it, he keeps telling himself. Being able to surprise Jonas with this gift will make the personal hell of actually getting there worth everything. ]

Comments

[coherer]

Oh– oh my god, hahaha– Stiles! (a raucous laugh at the sudden crash, sucking in a sharp gasp of sympathy pain before immediately starting forward into the detritus to help him out.) Man, are you okay? Jesus Christ, why– what are you still holding that for?!

(reaching around a couple of the display's broken slats with watery eyes, still shaking as his hands grab for dirt-covered lapels.)

What the hell are you doing to my store?!

Oh, shit, dude! (it's fairly easy to haul stiles up when he gets a good enough purchase on him, a flex in his shoulders and arms for the effort, pulling him clear onto his feet in the water and dead plants. sharply turning to sweep something off of the shelf he was admiring before disaster struck—note to self, surprising someone with tongue is a dangerous game best left to couples—clutching the cute pot in the crook of his elbow.) Alright, hug that aloe tight, buddy. I've got The One, so let's get outta' here before she calls the cops or, like, whatever constitutes.

(one thing left to do. a palm's shown to stiles, signalling for him to wait, before dropping it when the fae clerk circles out from the main section of the store to take the back aisle towards their mess. that leaves the front open.)

Time to go!

You– hey! Don't you run away from me! I warned you before, assholes, and now you're gonna' pay for the damages!

[mensrea]

[ The world lurches in a blur of color as Stiles is hauled to his feet, sneakers scrambling for solid purchase below him. He stares at the hand presented before his face with dazed confusion before the reality of the situation begins to sink in. Head whipping around, he gawks at the clerk who is charging toward them, antennae twitching furiously. Oh god. Oh no. He likes this store! This is hardly the first time he’s been chased out of a business, but – ]

It was him! He did it! [ he says desperately, pointing at Jonas. The clerk does not appear to care and continues hustling down the aisle. ] No, no, no, I’m sorry!

[ Apologies are not very convincing when they’re flung over your shoulder as you run away from authority figures, unpaid merchandise tucked in your arm. Stiles dumps a pocket full of cunes on the ground as they flee, like the world’s most expensive breadcrumb trail, because though he’s not above stealing – he really does like this store. ]

MY NAME IS SASUKE UCHIHA AND I AM RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS, [ Stiles shouts. ] SASUKE UCHIHA. REMEMBER THAT.

[coherer]

Calm down, lady, it was a mistake! (his laughter isn't making this very convincing, and neither does his parting comment:) I'll never lick another hand again!

(this fae is out for blood. jonas ducks a box of fertilizer that sails over their heads, sprinting that last yard to the exit. he's quick on his feet, his stamina more impressive than his pace. one quick look over his shoulder tells him stiles is right where he's supposed to be: at his side. they push out into the sun together, the witch going wide to the opposite side of the cobblestone street.

sasuke responsible? oh, he's going to kill stiles if he finds out he's been banned from the store.

slows almost to a stop before a group of two or three passerby rally to see what's going on, immediately hopping into another run with a sweep of his free arm. a gesture to stiles, their escape route a narrow alley leading out to the shops on the other side. it's only once they've gotten past the first trash receptacles that jonas actually pays attention to the snap decision he's made for them.)

–wait, wait, wait, there's a wall. Ah, Jesus. (a mortified look shot back to the mouth of their route, setting the potted plant down to push at his sleeves.) Alright. I'm gonna' boost you, buddy. You be ready up there so I can pass off the children, then I can climb over after.

[mensrea]

[ Unquestioningly allowing himself to be swept up into this grand heist and escape is like second nature to Stiles, who has been chasing after Scott McCall since they were tots. Concern about his future as a customer at this particular business eases into giddy delight as he races alongside Jonas, unable to stifle the slightly hysteric sniggering caused by the other teen’s declaration. Outside, the sunlight feels like a reward – basking them in a tepid warmth that may not be deserved. He has to make a quick, awkward hop to avoid tripping over a small dog that’s been drawn by all the noise, but then he’s stumbling behind Jonas once more toward the alley. ]

Children!? [ The aloe plant joins The One on the ground as Stiles steps up to the wall, one knee bent obligingly. ] Dude, we have got to have a talk about this freaky parent complex you’ve got on. Stop trying to adopt everything! We can’t afford to put even an asparagus through college in this economy!

[coherer]

(back hitting the wall, jonas slides down onto a knee in a practiced stance and a weave of his fingers. by making a platform for stiles' foot, he can sling him up and act like a set of stairs.

they'll have this down to a science in no time, their separate antics back home a perfect springboard for their teamwork in aefenglom.)

Then we'll homeschool it, what's the problem? Know what I think? I think you're teasing me to take the heat off your daddy kink. (jerks his head to the side in a "hurry up," trying and failing not to smirk upward at him.) So shut up and get goin', Stilinski.

[mensrea]

Um, excuse me!?

[ Jaw hanging, he stares at Jonas in scandalized shock. There’s a moment where his brain does seriously consider the accusation, leafing through a filing cabinet of potential applicants. Rafael? That’s a solid no. Peter? Not on his life. Mr. Yukimura? Meh. Argent? Okay, but everyone knows that Chris Argent is sinfully good looking. Wait. This is the “DILF” filing cabinet, not the “daddy kink” one. Stiles mentally closes it in mortification. ]

You listen here, punk. I won’t stand for this kind of slander –

[ Shouting near the mouth of the alley gives him pause. In the interest of time, he just shoots Jonas a pointed glare before finally stepping into those cupped hands. ]

I’m a delicate boy, please be careful with me, Mr. Ward.

[coherer]

(rolling his eyes with a huff of a laugh, heart racing from the shouts down the alley. they're in the shit now, it's high time they got themselves over, out, and away. jonas is, however, a very patient boy. he addresses stiles' comments before shifting off of his knee.)

You went from calling me a punk to "Mister"— (anticipates putting in more effort than he does, forgetting the transformation's made his arachne friend drop more than his water weight.) —real quick there. Jesus, you're–

(catches himself, teeth digging into his lower lip with a wider stare and a quiet "fuck." they've found them, still out on the street but pointing in their direction. with a few reinforcements. decidedly convenient timing, waiting for stiles to get up on the flat edge of the wall so he can pass him plant after plant until it's time for him to climb it himself. without help he needs to back up a few paces past a pile of garbage that wrinkles his nose. then, like a shot, jonas runs at the wall and jumps.

his height makes it easy to grab the ledge just right of stiles' shoe, hoisting himself with a grunt of effort and a grip of sneaker treads against brick. a sideways glance at his partner in crime reassures him that this is actually going according to plan, a bit flustered by the activity and smiling in his direction. this is... fun. stiles is fun.)

Ready?

[mensrea]

[ The leg up sends Stiles shooting up at a faster speed than he anticipated. With a pitchy shriek, he scrambles at the wall so that he doesn’t go flying over the top. Luck’s on their side; he manages to catch himself, folded over the top with his groin uncomfortably digging into chiseled stone. Groaning, he pulls himself up and prepares to accept the stolen goods. Each plant is taken and set aside with painstaking care, Stiles exceedingly nervous about the possibility of their “children” toppling off the wall. With that taken care of, he scoots aside to give Jonas room and reaches down to help his friend up – only to blink in surprise as he sees that the Witch is preparing a running start. ]

Uh, dude, are you sure –

[ Apparently, Jonas is sure. Stiles almost feels guilty for doubting his delinquent friend for even a second. Returning that smile with a huge grin, he scoops up both plants in either arm and slips off the opposite side of the wall. ]

Ready. Let’s go home, buddy.