(open) i paced around for hours on empty, i jumped at the slightest of sounds

[mensrea]

Who: Stiles Stilinski and YOU
When: Night of Aereuer 8 (full moon)
Where: Various spots in Aefenglom
What: Semi-feral Arachne party games on a very special 18th birthday
Warnings: Language, animal death

[ After escaping from Sheva in the Wildes and absconding to Aefenglom, Stiles begins his hunt. Honestly, he’s not quite sure what he’s exactly on the hunt for – only that there’s a voracious hunger rising within him, an appetite that won’t be whetted by just any meal. And so, humming the happy birthday tune to himself loudly and offkey, he prowls from district to district from the city skyline. Those eight spider legs carry him vertically up edifices with no apparent effort, even make impressive leaps across significant distances between buildings. The sense of fear that usually holds Stiles back is gone; uninhibited, he experiments with his superhuman abilities in boyish delight, that joy tempered only by the unkind, savage grin stretching his mouth too wide. ]

It’s my party and I can cry if I want to, [ comes one such inspired ballad, interrupted by his sniggering as he swings upside down from where he’s currently perched. ] Cry if I want to, cry if I want to!

[ That’s if you’re lucky. Sometimes it’s – ]

It’s yo birthday, so I know you wanna ri-i-i-ide out. [ There’s a dog howling somewhere nearby in sympathy. ] Even if we only go to my-y-y-y house.

[ During the night, Stiles will make a nuisance of himself. Expect to find him cavorting through the streets doing eight-legged cartwheels, singing obnoxiously despite the hour, spinning webs in inconvenient locations, dropping by homes to pay friends unexpected house calls, etc. ]

( ooc | Full Moon Shift appearance details, CR & plotting comment, and info & permissions page. Stiles will not be hurting anyone. If threatened with violence, his Arachne instincts will force him to flee the scene. If you want to figure out a specific prompt for your character, hit me up! )

Comments

[bolstafir]

Ohhh, one of those.

[Boring school shit, he remembers those days well. Fondly, even, despite his general distaste for the actual schoolwork parts. Stiles hands him a thread of silk and he blinks, but doesn't drop it. Apparently he's just part of web art now.]

SparkNotes, though, huh. Sounds useful. For me, SparkNotes was Taiyang Xiao-Long. [And Summer, really. Probably moreso. But it's harder for him to talk about her.] When he wasn't being a dick about it, anyway.

[Telling him to "apply himself" and "pay attention", the nerve, god.]

Are you familiar with any of the other Monster types too, or just that one?

[mensrea]

[ The most beautiful web art, Qrow. You’re going to be a star. But keep moving, because Stiles wants that damn smoothie. If you accidentally clothesline a few people along the way? Sacrifices must be made. Onward! ]

Others too, [ he replies, losing interest in spinning silk abruptly. ] Some personally, some just through my world’s mythology. Pucas are the only one I’m unfamiliar with.

[ There’s a moment of frustration where Stiles seems to break through the moon-high he’s experiencing; he wants to ask about Taiyang Xiao-Long, but the name is already slipping through his fingers without his notebook to jot it down on. The thought passes before he can act on it. ]

Why’re you asking? If you have questions, you’d be better off asking a Mirrorbound Monster about them. Unlessssss, [ drawing out that sibilant, he spins around to face Qrow, walking backwards ahead of him, ] you want to know about Arachne. In which case, tada! Pretty sure I’m the only one. How’s that for special snowflake syndrome?

[bolstafir]

[He lets out a low whistle.]

Well damn. The mirrors aren't a big fan of spiders, I guess.

[He wonders if Stiles considers that a stroke of fortune or misfortune. Shaking his head, he slips the silk around his wrist instead so it frees up his hand.]

Don't have any specific questions, though. [Not at the moment, anyway, off the top of his head.] I haven't met anyone who had equivalents of Aefenglom's Monsters back home, yet, is all.

[In other words, the spy in him flagged your perspective as Interesting and Potentially Useful in detangling the mystery of how they came to be here. Of course, that part of him is also aware information doesn't tend to come for free. He adds, smoothly:]

The Shades outside the Wall remind me of the monsters in my own world. So I was curious about your perspective.

[mensrea]

Huh.

[ As he considers this – there aren’t really Shade-equivalent creatures in his own world, at least not anything that wouldn’t be better suited in a different category – he trips over a gap in the cobblestone road and tumbles backwards head over heels. The Arachne limbs respond much quicker than his human body, catching Stiles before he manages to crash to the ground. In an attempt to make it look like it was all on purpose, he goes boneless and allows the limbs to continue walking him…while he remains supine, hands folded over his stomach in a bizarre resemblance to a body in a casket. ]

We don’t have anything like that, [ he continues, staring up at the sky. ] You got an infection back home? What creates those monsters in your world?

[bolstafir]

[A curious thing happens as Stiles trips over the gap in the road; Qrow lunges forward, trying to catch the teen before he falls, but the Arachne limbs respond faster than he does, leaving his own hand outstretched in midair, just shy of Stiles' wrist before the kid goes boneless. And though it wasn't quick enough to outstrip the Monster reflexes, it's still too fast. People don't just react that quickly to someone tripping in the street....unless they've been doing it a long, long time. Unless it's a longterm, instinctual paranoia.

There's no real way to play that off, so he just doesn't, shoving his hands in his pockets instead, and he continues the conversation like nothing happened.]

It's not an infection. The Grimm are drawn to negative emotions. Fear, anger, hatred...all the ugly things that lurk inside your head, and they'll destroy anything and everything indiscriminately, just like the Shades. As for what made them....well, originally, it was the God of Darkness, if you believe the stories.

[And since then...Salem. Outside of Remnant, keeping that a secret doesn't really matter anymore, but it's force of habit. Always better to keep some cards close to your chest, if you can.]

[mensrea]

[ Alas, the abnormality of Qrow’s reaction is largely lost on Stiles. Having spent the last two years surrounded by supernaturally fast beings, he doesn’t think too hard about how or why his current companion might have responded so quickly. He still assumes that the other man must be a Vampire and therefore a Monster; with that in mind, he dismisses the unnatural speed as a tradeoff from the transformation.

Details about Remnant definitely intrigue him, however. Sitting up – and it’s a bizarre sight, this half-naked teenager seated cross-legged in the air with one spider limb tucked under him while the rest ferry him along the road – he considers Qrow thoughtfully. ]

So, do you?

[ The idea of creatures like Shades that are drawn to negative emotions… He questions the survivability of anyone in such a world, given how predominant negative emotions tend to be in people. ]

Believe in the stories, I mean.

[bolstafir]

[Silver linings to vampire transformation, clearly. Keeping your baggage hidden for another day.]

Yeah, I do.

[Mostly because he believes in the person who told them to him, more than anything in the world.]

It's said he was the younger of two brother gods who created Remnant in the first place. The elder brother was the God of Light, who focused on creations of life. As the story goes, humans were the result of their feud--capable of creation and destruction both, and given the gift of choice between the two, and the knowledge to understand their choices.

[How much of it is true and how much is embellishment is irrelevant to Qrow, in the end. The Grimm were real, and the four "gifts" to humanity--Creation, Destruction, Knowledge, and Choice--existed as the Relics, too, and it's been his job to keep Salem from getting her hands on them for nearly half his life now. Not that he discloses as much just yet.]

[mensrea]

[ Two brother gods. The elder, the God of Light. The younger, the God of Darkness. Funny, how it so often seems to work out that way in mythology and legend. Almost cliché, really. Stiles idly muses on characters in pop culture who fit the same equation. Was Hades a younger brother in Hercules? It’s been so long since he’s seen the movie; he can’t remember. ]

How do the Grimm fit in?

[ The bright lights of a still-open business up ahead catch his eye. Twisting around, Stiles peers curiously at what appears to be a juice store. ]

Hey! Time to pay up, old man! [ The limbs drop Stiles back on the ground. ] But don’t quit with the storytelling. We can order and chitchat. Got it?

[bolstafir]

[He puts on his shit-eatingest grin before saluting with two fingers.]

Yes, sir.

[Leading the way into the shop, he pulls out a ratty wallet, digging past a whole bunch of strange, plastic-looking money to find some cunes instead as they stand in line. He really ought to get a new wallet for Aefenglom, honestly....and maybe better employment than "whatever odd jobs he can find". If only working with the Wilders was something you could get paid for, alas.]

They were part of the feud, too. The last big escalation before they created humans as a truce, actually. See, the God of Darkness hated his older brother's creations, and kept trying to destroy them, with fire, drought, famine....but life was too resilient. So, the creatures of Grimm. Beings of pure destruction and chaos, without a soul.

[mensrea]

[ Entering the shop is a bit of a process for Stiles, due to the Arachne limbs often behaving on every childish, unconscious impulse of his animal hindbrain. He folds them into his body like a closed umbrella, then seizes one by the tarsus before it can get too interested in coloring pencils left out for kids. With all eight gathered to his chest, he waddles into line after Qrow. His attention is split between the drink menu and the well abused wallet that the man draws out. If Qrow lets him – Stiles makes no attempt to be sneaky about his intentions – he’ll grab a piece of that foreign money to study it under the artificial mage light. ]

Is this the part where you let me in on the secret that there are Grimm with souls? Maybe like, human-Grimm hybrids? Or am I letting comic book plots inspire me too much here?

[bolstafir]

[Qrow straight-up shudders at the suggestion of a human-Grimm hybrid. There's Cinder's Grimm arm that she used to steal Amber's power as the Fall Maiden, but that's clearly unnatural and likely some manner of twisted experiment by Salem, not really anything like what Stiles is talking about.]

Gods, I don't even want to think about someone sleeping with a Grimm. [Ew. Just ew.]

That said, the Grimm that have lived the longest do eventually attain some level of sentience. Those are the most dangerous, because their basic nature's unchanged--it's just that they've become capable of learning, too. Attacking at a good opportunity, when they're likely to come out on top.

[Stiles' unsneaky theft has not gone unnoticed, though. After he finishes his explanation of the Grimm, he points to the plastic note in his hands.]

That's called a Lien, by the way. Or, in Aefenglom, "garbage."

[mensrea]

“Lien,” [ he echoes curiously, flicking the plastic surface with a nail before offering it back to Qrow. ] Kinda has the consistency of credit cards back home. Anyway, we mainly use paper money – easier to mass print, I guess.

[ The line ripples as another customer is served, bringing them closer to the register. While they wait, Stiles digs into his jeans pocket for his own wallet. ]

By the way, I didn’t mean sleeping with them. I dunno if that’s an indication that you need to get laid soon, or if your world’s science isn’t as advanced.

[ A plain leather wallet is flipped open. There’s an unflattering picture of a buzz-cut haired Stiles in his driver’s license, along with several cards. It’s a twenty-dollar bill that he pulls out for Qrow to examine, however. ]

I meant more like, evil scientists taking Grimm DNA and injecting fetuses in-utero with it, or something. Banging the monster would probably be easier though, yeah.

ignore that meta about cinder, whoops ... forgot qrow wouldn't know that haha

[bolstafir]

Oh, we have those too. Mostly for the super-rich, though.

[His tone seems to suggest he knows some of those people and finds it entirely wild. As for Stiles' suggestion about his dtf status, his brows lift, expression taking on that one combination of teasing and smug that says I don't kiss and tell. This expression, however, is bullshit. He has not gotten laid in ages. Partly because there was a Lot Going On and partly because he has intimacy issues up the wazoo, but bird's gotta strut nonetheless.

Anyway, the actual clarification has him shaking his head.]

Yikes, no. Even assuming that's possible, you'd get yourself and probably everyone working with you killed long before you had the chance to accomplish anything. It's hard enough killing Grimm, let alone capturing one and keeping it restrained.

[The line moves ahead again; as they move, Qrow peers at the bill curiously, running a thumb across it if Stiles will let him.]

Don't these things tear easy?

[Not everyone spends significant portions of their day-to-day running and jumping around fighting monsters, Qrow.]

nw! i'm totally canon blind anyway lol

[mensrea]

[ While Stiles tends to be a difficult person to successfully bullshit, he takes Qrow’s inexplicit facial expression about needing to get laid at…well, face value. You win this time, you smooth criminal. Too bad the trichobothria don’t come equipped with some kind of lie detector. You’d be in big trouble, mister. ]

Super easy, [ he confirms, doing so just for the hell of it – take that capitalism! – with a tarsus before giving Qrow the bill. ] They’re a little more durable than regular paper, though. Totally fine if you forget your wallet in a pocket and throw your pants in the wash, for example.

[ The Grimm are an infinitely more interesting subject to Stiles, however; he’s eager to keep digging for information. ]

So, I’m guessing you don’t kill these things with nice feelings and love? [ No Care Bear specials for the Grimm. ] How do you deal with them?

same here w/ teen wolf haha. but rwby's a fun canon, if messy in places

[bolstafir]

[Someday he'll make friends with a Harpy and that will be a dark day for his bullshitter ass.]

Spoken like someone that's happened to a few times.

[Not that Qrow can talk; his first attempts at Domesticity after Summer was gone and he had to step up for the girls while Tai was struggling did not go great. So many shrunken clothes, so many innocent white shirts tossed in the wash with colored ones and ruined. rip.]

Anyway, they're not the touchy feely type, no. [Unless you happen to be born with silver eyes, and then that's exactly how it works. Not that Qrow is aware of that particular detail yet. Alas, canonpoints.] But slicing them in half's always worked for me. A shotgun to the face doesn't hurt, either.

[That bigass sword he's been carrying on his back is not just for show, after all. And yes, it is in fact both a sword and a shotgun.]

gotta handwave the rest, TWO DUDES ENJOYED THEIR SMOOTHIES!!

[mensrea]

[ Eventually, the conversation shifts away from the talk of their worlds and onto more mundane topics – like what kind of smoothies they should order. All in all? Stiles would hit up Qrow for more free drinks any day, 10/10, does recommend. ]