(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]

(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.