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(open) i paced around for hours on empty, i jumped at the slightest of sounds
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! )
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! )
no subject
There's little else he can do but accept the situation and work toward the most bearable solution. In this case, he has two options: wait for Sasuke to return and cut him out of the web, or cut himself out (the 'please' is not even entertained). Naturally his preference leans in the direction of the more difficult choice. Already Itachi's hands twist where they're pinned by binds, wrists testing its durability—seeking enough room to work fingertips into the pouch at his belt that holds the weapons around his waist.
It's slow, difficult progress, and his forearms ache from the strain.
Rather than answer the question, Itachi rolls on the mattress to stare at the opposite wall. He may as well have written off Stiles' presence entirely at this point. Begone.]
no subject
I better not find you in the city again tonight, [ he warns lowly, the underlying threat in those words deadly serious compared to his earlier carefree demeanor. ] Sasuke cares about you. Don’t take that so lightly.
[ Footsteps fade from the bed as he leaves, exiting through the window and shutting it behind him. Time to go find Jonas. ]
i can't believe i got to use the icon already
Enough that he might check on him following the full moon if he were in any condition to do so or harboring any suspicion that maybe it was particularly warranted, but as it is he's journeying dazedly back to his home just before dawn without a clear thought in his mind. He's sated. Stiles is safe. Jonas is safe. He can rest before the sun rears its ugly head.
Or so he assumes until he enters his bedroom, shirt flecked with dried blood that's equally smeared over his chin. His brother... is tied up in his bed. Sure, he seems to be nearing freedom, but Sasuke knows a little too well now just how strong arachne silk is and it's no small feat to hack through it at an advantageous angle, let alone the one Itachi is working with. ]
... do you need help?
[ what the fuck does he say ]
i'm so blessed
The approaching noise of footsteps and creak of the door causes Itachi to go utterly still, eyes fixed on the wall. He doesn't need to look up to know its owner. His awareness of Sasuke is almost preternatural even without the aid of sharingan or chakra. The kunai he's wedged up beneath the knot of silk is rigid in his fingers, and his wrists and forearms are sore with a strain he knows he'll feel well into tomorrow. He's managed to cut halfway up his own back, but it's tedious and laborious work, and it's only gotten harder as he's inched higher.
Black eyes finally do skim over to his younger brother, although it's hard to see through the messy curtain of hair he keeps having to shake out of his face. Determined sweat sticks the strands to his brow.]
... Sasuke. [Why hadn't he stayed dead, things were much simpler then.] It wasn't my choice to come here, I... [Apologizing or explaining just seems pointless.] Yes.
[Better.]
help them
Really looks. And thinks back on what Stiles had told him, identifying himself as the only arachne in the city. Is there a chance of this day becoming any longer? Will he have to deal with this later? The answer, to both questions, is always a "yes". Sasuke raises his chin and adjusts his trudge into a more respectable stride forward, fingers plucking the kunai from his brother's hand. ]
I can guess what happened; you don't need to explain. [ For once.
It's far easier for him to start cutting at that webbing, patiently working bit by bit with an unfocused gaze. What the hell has this night become. ] Are you hurt?
no subject
He'll only need to endure this a short while longer.]
No. Nothing noteworthy. [Soreness or aching limbs aside, he's unscathed. Stiles saw to that... annoyingly.] When you finish with my arms, I can do the rest.
[His legs, also bound, will be easier once he has his hands back. Let him preserve some dignity.]
Are you...? [Trailing off, he tries again:] Were you affected tonight as well?
no subject
He turns to sit heavily on that same bed at his side, taking a moment to exhale when his vision blurs. Why...? ]
I was earlier, somewhat. I'm– [ Any reassurance that he's fine now is incredibly short-lived as he abruptly vanishes from sight, clothing dropping flat onto the mattress as if his very body had suddenly been spirited away altogether. The only sign that this hasn't happened is a quiet squeak and a rustle of movement, the collar of that cloak bunching upward as a tiny, one-winged bat slowly drags itself free of its folds with an awkward digging of claws.
Help. ]
1/2
Itachi sits up and begins rubbing circulation back into thin fingers and wrists when Sasuke's voice cuts off mid-sentence. Alarmed, he turns, finding his brother gone.]
Sasuke!
no subject
What happened to you?
[Unaware the bat can't answer him, Itachi plants one of his hands on the bed and leans over it, hair sliding off his shoulder.]
no subject
Instead, there's another soft peep of protest against the world at large, shaky head placed back down against cloth in worn out surrender. This is really not his proudest moment... but at least he didn't get tied up and thrown into his brother's bed. He'll take whatever victories he can find.
Hearing the concern in his brother's voice counts for one. ]
no subject
As he holds this precious cargo to his chest, he turns his attention to still-webbed legs and begins sawing at the thread with the point of his kunai.]
I can stay with you until you return to normal, Sasuke.
[This is a quiet murmur to the small animal. Perhaps it won't be understood, he's not certain the level of awareness his brother has in this state, but that's fine. Somehow this is much easier protective behavior when Sasuke is not looking him in the eye and can't really respond... hmmm.]
no subject
Right, it's Itachi showing him caring and concern... Disregarding the spider silk that his brother is still cutting himself free from, when was the last time one of them looked after the other like this? It's a comedically flawed scenario but would they manage it otherwise?
Probably not, he thinks, as he rests his head down securely against one finger, eyes closing. ]
no subject
Once his legs are successfully loosed from webbing, he kicks the spooled pile of spider-silk off the end of the bed and onto the floor. It was his intention to leave as soon as this was done, but instead Itachi sits up and puts his back against the headboard of the mattress. He places Sasuke gently in his lap, on top of his left thigh. A thumb passes over one of those pointy, fragile, petal-thin bat ears.]
So you're missing a wing in this state. [Still unknowing whether his brother understands, he speaks anyway.] It must be frustrating to be restricted to such a vulnerable form against your will.
no subject
Were it anyone else – anyone else – he would be making his displeasure at being caressed in such a way known. But from his brother... It's so unexpected and such an unguarded tenderness that he hasn't known from him in years. It has him purposefully lowering his head again as Itachi speaks, tiny feet catching on the fabric of his pants as he claws his way into a more comfortable position. That wing is folded back against his body as he relaxes, apparently content to rest here for the rest of the night if given the chance.
Yes.
This is frustrating, but also an incredibly precious moment he selfishly wants to hold onto. Heavy eyes peer up at him, slowly growing more and more tired. ]
no subject
A meditative quiet after a long, exhausting night. An occasional thumb across those soft ears, to a point where he's almost unaware he's doing it. It's fine like this. He'll let himself enjoy this momentary respite until Sasuke changes back.
And then they'll never speak of it again...]