(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! )

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[mensrea]

[ At last, the decapitated mantis succumbs to death. Stiles hums softly in approval, studying the fang-gouged abdomen and the progress of the acid. While he waits for its insides to liquify, he snaps a raptorial leg in half simply to listen to the crack, eyes half-lidded with a cruel kind of pleasure. The sensation of a callous-roughened palm smearing green blood over his arm has him rolling his head back, a husky groan hissing out between his fangs. ]

Ssssstooop. [ This time, Stiles draws away, jeans too tight as heat suffuses him like a bolt of lightning coursing through his body. ] Not too gentle. It’s too much for my arms and hands these days. Gonna give me a serious problem like the first time we trained.

[ Once the full moon no longer affects him, there will be time to sincerely regret confessing that tidbit of information. Stiles shows no signs of embarrassment now, however; a sharp, challenging grin is leveled at Sasuke as if daring him to put the pieces together. ]

Anyway, I don’t need gentle from you anymore. I know you. I can take it. It’s okay.

[eyeforaneye]

[ Before his mind had been clouded by an indescribable pleasure the likes of which he can safely say he hasn't previously experienced, but this time? This time he has his wits about him to fully gauge the effect that his touch has on Stiles, a touch the other teen had requested. His gaze mercifully doesn't travel south but it doesn't really need to, not when he can hear his sounds and see the shifts in his expression that fully communicate his arousal... sexual or otherwise. ]

The first time we trained? [ Memories filter back in around clouds of misremembrance and current distraction, quietly taken in by the sadism he sees in normally cautious but warm brown eyes. "What a good look", he thinks. ]

When you returned my shuriken, you mean. Oh, I remember... I don't think you can take "it", Stiles; you're underestimating my nature.

[mensrea]

[ As his friend takes a moment to recall the memory in question, he feeds at last. The mantis is consumed from the inside out meticulously, Stiles catching the trickle of blood with a swipe of a tarsus – then brought to his mouth on some unconscious instinct. He licks the claw clean, pink tongue stained green, before returning to the insect itself. No part is wasted; even the broken raptorial leg is picked apart for meat and blood. ]

Mmhm. [ The distracted noise is the only confirmation that Sasuke has remembered the correct point in time. ] Am I?

[ His eyes slide over to the Vampire, expression lit up with a cocky kind of mirth. ]

Maybe you’re the one underestimating me. But that’s alright. Guess you’ll just have to prove me wrong.