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

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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! )

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[ TBA ]

[ Eventually, attempts to enjoy himself stymied by that same hunger, Stiles allows instinct to guide him home. There’s no warning given – no message, no knock, nothing – before he’s waltzing into the cottage like he personally paid for it, abnormally lengthened spider legs squeezed in to avoid knocking knick-knacks off shelves. ]

Hoooooney, [ he calls out in a bright, giddy tone. ] I’m home!

–don't know, he just hasn't been answering my texts. And now I'm too freaked out by last month's full moon to leave the cottage, so thanks again for coming over. (fairly obvious, considering their bond shares his tangle of emotions and every one is tinged grey with worry. jonas pokes at his ungainly pile of vegetables in the dining room, normally enthusiastic about sasuke's purchases, but tonight he just can't get in the mood.)

Need another rat, or anything? I'm going to the kitchen.

(making to stand, the yell from stiles startles him into a stagger backwards. he drops right back down again, chair legs sliding a foot back, immediately pitching forward to glance between sasuke and out into the hall through the crown moulded archway. speak of the devil and he shall appear, stiles walking in with gusto. followed by legs, spider legs, held close to his body.)

Stiles? Jesus Christ, dude, you– your– there's–

[ derek is in kind of a crap mood because he's had a headache all day (and that is the worst how do humans deal with being so fragile he didn't even take any knocks to the head recently?) when he hears stiles down the street. for a brief moment, while the voice comes closer to the cottage, he considers shoving his pillow over his head and ignoring stiles. he's probably fine. it's just the middle of the night on the full moon. nothing to worry about.

... goddammit.

with a huff, derek hauls himself out of bed and opens his window. he leans out, ready to yell at stiles to shut up, but the sight of his arachne form stops derek in his tracks. but only for a moment. ]

Really? It's after midnight.

[ The closer and closer Sasuke orbits death, the greater his snobbishness becomes. Perhaps it's that and his overwhelming need to rebel against the most basic social conventions while he still can, or the barriers that their new Bond has broken down for him, that has him actually eating at the table.

His first well-punctured rodent is positioned over his glass, given a final good squeeze and a hard shake as Sasuke listens patiently to Jonas, last droplets of blood eking from a body he doesn't feel like putting his mouth on again. Maybe he does have a few standards. ]

I suppose. I'm feeling– [ Well, Jonas knows, doesn't he? If he didn't know about his hunger – intensified as it is tonight of all nights – then he wouldn't ask. But his unnecessary statement is instantly interrupted by another voice, one that has him dropping that carcass into his glass with an unceremonious "plop". His abrupt stand is much more self-assured, prompted more by the suddenness of the situation than even Stiles's markedly changed appearance. ]

Stiles. [ ... ] Are you alright?

[ Claws gouge into the archway, plaster raining to the floor, as he propels himself into the dining room and onto the table in a cacophony of clattering silverware. The spider limbs have always acted as an extension of his unconscious mind. It’s no different now; they dominate the limited space by curving around both young men, not yet touching but looming like vipers biding time. Stiles meanwhile crouches on the table, making an attempt at eyeing the plated vegetables even as his gaze is drawn again and again to Jonas. ]

Hey, it’s good you’re here, [ he remarks to Sasuke, staring at the Witch. ] Saves me from having to track you down later. Sit down, buddy.

[ The Vampire isn’t given the opportunity to comply before a paw settles on his shoulder, shoving him back down into his chair. It lingers, patting that shoulder gently as if in apology for the rough treatment, and settles there in an implicit warning. Another paw deftly removes Jonas' plate of whole-food dinner, dumping it elsewhere carelessly, so that Stiles can seat himself at that edge of the table, bare feet resting on either side of Jonas’ thighs. Though he’s smiling, warm and fond, there’s an unmistakable edge of danger present in the stillness of the spider limbs. ]

Sorry I went AWOL. [ One again Jonas’ abused chair is scraping across the floor as two paws drag it closer. ] I kinda had a feeling this full moon was going to go off with a bang, you know? Didn’t think I should be around you when it happened.

[ A pause as he turns his head around as if surveying the setting, eyes still locked on Jonas. ]

Whoops!

[ Thanks to the trichobothria, he’s aware of that window sliding up in its frame before Derek even sticks his pillow-mussed head out. Laughing as if the former werewolf has said something particularly funny, he slingshots himself into the cottage yard with the spider limbs. Before even a few seconds have passed, he’s scaling the side of Derek’s house. ]

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, [ he intones in a singsong voice, stopping when his face is level with Derek’s. ] Hey. How’s it going? You look pretty tired, big guy. Catching enough z’s?

(when stiles climbs into the room, jonas falls quiet in the wake of cracked plaster and scattering cutlery.

even his rapid, shallow breaths in are exhaled noiselessly, understanding immediately what kind of situation they're in. this was supposed to be a safer place than the chaos they'd see in town, so what is there to say towers over them even from his low, preying stance in the centre of the table. sasuke being forced down to sit is so bizarre to see—considering everything he knows of him and his capabilities in a fight—that he doesn't even jerk away from the clawed tarsi landing on the edges of his seat.

the slide forward, being reeled in as a helpless fly, is what rattles him into an intimidated stammer.) N-No, it's okay. It's okay, Stiles, buddy, we'll– we're gonna' figure this out now. So– so just let go of Sasuke, okay? And we'll all sit here... we'll sit right here and talk. (jonas can feel his hands shake, so he slowly redirects them to grip at the chair's arms, eyes flicking to sasuke where he sits in a similar position.

sasuke's still hungry, he can sense the gnawing feeling, so would that mean stiles is in a similar state? one that can be reasoned with, but ultimately driven by animal instinct? he vies for his attention.)

Right?

I would be, if someone didn't decide to drop by out of nowhere.

[ this is a lie. he absolutely wouldn't be sleeping right now. maybe in an hour or so, but not right now. ]

You look like you downed a six pack of Red Bull.

[ it's kind of disconcerting. especially since derek knows that stiles wasn't feeling too great about the whole arachne thing at first. the confidence he's walking around with now has to be due to the moon. it's just... not stiles. ]

[ Fear comes through their Bond, and in return Sasuke trades back the first sparks of his anger. The emotion's grit between his teeth not due to the force with which he's initially shoved back down, or even wholly the patronizing pats that follow in their misguided attempt to soothe, but the fact that he goes for Jonas. The fact that this, all of this, could've been so fucking preventable and now here they are.

He doesn't make the same comparison that Jonas does; whatever hunger he himself is feeling is mitigated by their Bond. Whatever Stiles is feeling... it's completely untethered, connected only to the twin moons hung high in the sky and the fever pitch of his own blood. ]

Stiles... What the hell are you doing? Whatever you want, say it plainly.

[ Anything to keep him from feeling a need to use the kunai his hand discreetly wraps around, stashed as it always is at his side. ]

Sorry about that, [ comes the insincere apology. ] I’ve just been in such a great mood tonight, you know? Wanted to share some of that magic with the neighborhood.

[ Derek may want to lean back inside the window, because Stiles is leaning forward regardless of whether he does or not – folding his arms on the bottom of the windowsill and pillowing his head atop them. ]

Guess what? [ Don’t bother guessing. He’s too excited to wait. ] It’s my birthday! Did you get me anything good? It's my eighteenth, so I think that warrants a little something extra.

Saaasuke, [ he croons in mock disappointment, head lolling on shoulders as he finally spares the Vampire an amused look. ] Remember our first training session? Yeah. That whole, “I can feel your intent” shtick? Mm. Well.

[ Lighting fast, an unoccupied spider limb strikes. Sasuke’s hand is pinned to the seat of his chair. ]

I’ll let you hold onto it if it makes you feel safer. I’m feeling pretty gracious tonight, after all. [ A breathy laugh. ] You must really enjoy poking me with holes, huh?

[ The level of affection in those words is highly incongruous with the question itself. But Stiles loses interest in Sasuke, his attention swiveling back to Jonas. ]

Dude, chill! Do you seriously think I’m going to hurt you? [ Pupils dilating, he slips off the table and into the Witch’s space, expression open with a soft kind of wonder. ] I can sense how hard your heart is beating, you know. [ As one hand alights on Jonas’ chest, needing to feel the desperation of that organ under his palm, and another settles over his own – willing them to sync. ] Am I really so scary? Ha, stupid question. I must be, like this.

[ There’s a flash of something darker, something wretchedly lonely, and then his face is smoothed over as if nothing happened. ]

Do me a favor. Forget what I look like, please? I just want to celebrate my birthday with my two best friends.

[Connor hears singing (terrible singing, mind you) as he floats on his back in his pool, and opens his eyes to give the sky an unimpressed look. He's only annoyed for a moment, though. He's soon drawn to sing one of the few songs he knows himself, in a voice that carries unnaturally over to Stiles. He's wet, so the singing acts as a lure... he'll be lucky if he doesn't draw in a few extra people.

If Stiles comes to investigate, he'll find the Merrow in a large pool in the back garden of a cottage. The fence isn't hard to climb over, especially for an Arachne. He does stop singing as soon as he senses someone is near, but it's probably apparent as he fruitlessly scans the area that he's blind above water. He could dive under, but then he can't talk to whoever he was trying to lure in.

Which is anyone, really. He's so damn bored. Having only one Bond instead of three means he still succumbs to the urges to sing or toy with people around the full moons. Playing with the coins at the bottom of the pool can only do so much to entertain him.]

Hello?

(Monster reference!)

(just a spark of sasuke's rage is like acid in his gut, wholly unused to the feeling. it burns all the willpower he has not to let it influence the way he looks at stiles now, unaddressed by his bonded but still reassured—in a small, significant way—experiencing his protectiveness of him. he knows he's indescribably weak, the full moon sapping him of strength he thought he'd been hoarding, and there's a sudden, pervasive sense of helplessness that comes with the realization.

it brutalizes his self-confidence. instead of feeding into it, however, he bows his head a moment to recollect himself with eyes still trained on stiles through dark eyelashes. listening, waiting, in the way he told him to. there's a downside to such a watchful gaze, of course, easily catching the pain in stiles' expression. jonas has to chew the inside of his cheek to prevent himself from shouting his worry.)

I know you won't hurt me, but– (sucks a sharp gasp in between his teeth, trying not to flinch away from the human hand settling against his chest, knee jerking up like a reactionary wall. all it is is a sock foot pressing against the edge of the table, kicking it back in an attempt to dislodge him. to no avail, hearing only the clatter of more glassware as it's shaken out of its setting.) Stiles, Jesus, I'm– I'm sorry, I didn't know. I'm so sorry, man.

(he wonders what he's thinking. wonders if these thoughts are lucid, or if they're choked by the desire to pin anything lesser to their seats. wonders if stiles is the one speaking, or if the feral monster his professors warned him about has taken the reins and commandeered his body. to have it happen again to him, possessed by anything other than his own wants and needs, upsets jonas enough that his hand slaps over his best friend's fingers and squeezes them tightly. they remain pinned to his heart despite its rapid thrum.

stiles can't go through this again. not on his birthday, not in this vulnerable time between them.)

This doesn't scare me. (shifts their hands, drawing them left a few degrees to where the beat's the strongest through the thin material of his shirt.) Okay? It's you and me, that's never gonna' change.

Edited 2020-04-08 03:47 (UTC)

[ Even without the siren’s lure, Stiles would have been intrigued enough to investigate the singing – in part because he’s looking for attention, in part because he recognizes the song. Trespassing without a care, he scales the backyard fence and approaches the pool with ginger wariness. Though Arachnes fear fire, this particular spider remains dubious of any body of water; he very nearly drowned in the last shared dream, never mind his personal experiences back home. ]

“Every whisper of every waking hour,” [ he continues, still offkey. At least he sounds like he’s enjoying himself. ] “I’m choosing my confessions, trying to keep an eye on you.”

[ Sharp brown eyes take note of the unseeing manner in which the Merrow seems to search the area. Having had few encounters with this Monster species, he’s not sure if this is typical for all Merrow. But Stiles has always been science-minded. Seeing the bioluminescent coloring of the man, he presumes that maybe this Merrow is based off a deep-sea creature – which would perhaps impact vision. It’s a theory, if nothing else. ]

Hey, dude. You’re the first mermaid I’ve seen.

[ Wait a second. Mermaid…? No. Could this be…? ]

…Are you Connor?

[ HAS HE FINALLY FOUND CONNOR, THE LEGENDARY ROBOT MERMAID? ]

[He usually can see, but the full moons aren't kind to him. He tracks the voice, at least seeming to be pleased when the song is repeated back to him.]

Yes, I'm Connor.

[He swims to the edge of the pool, seemingly not bothered by the fact that Stiles is trespassing in his backyard. It's not like he's the first, and he won't be the last. He's more curious about how this man knows who he is.]

Who are you? I don't recognise your voice.

[ You must really enjoy poking me with holes, huh?

The words would be enough to weigh down his limbs if the claws caging in his wrist with enough pressure to keep him rooted in place weren't cutting it, ire only mounting more and more with each word in spite of the brief spike of guilt. It pairs sickeningly well with the worry that radiates from Jonas, but his friend's sympathetic heart and readily offered trust aren't enough to sway him through their Bond. This may be a side of Stiles, but that doesn't mean it's wholly the teenager that they know.

Sasuke'd shown limited sides of himself to both of them that night in the ruins, after all. ]

This isn't the way to do it.

Back away from him, let me go, and we can celebrate then. [ His respect for the moment isn't insignificant. But his respect for the strength in those appendages and his desire to keep Jonas safe from even possible, accidental outburst is even more so. ]

[ Upon receiving confirmation that this is indeed the legendary robot mermaid, Connor, Stiles lets out a loud whoop of triumph. This has been an investigation about two months in the making. Finally, he can rest easy. Connor has been identified. This is better than finding Waldo or Carmen Sandiego. ]

We haven’t met, dude. You can call me Stiles.

[ Sidling to an edge of the pool furthest from Connor in case the Merrow tries to drag him in, he peers in. Then, because he’s in a bratty mood tonight, he strikes the surface with a spider paw to splash water in the other man’s direction. ]

Are you seriously a robot? You totally look human.

[ Something cold and ancient – the bitter dregs left over from the Nogitsune’s possession – darkens his expression into a cruel mien when Jonas reacts fearfully to his touch. It may come on slowly like a premature frost in early autumn, but there’s no mistaking the distant, disappointed look that he pins Jonas with. Liar, hisses a hateful inner voice. You are afraid of me. He begins to pull away from the Witch, both physically and emotionally, only to pause as Jonas shifts their overlapping hands directly over his heart. The effect is instantaneous; mouth parting on a sharp, surprised inhale, the monster recedes and Stiles claws his way to the surface with a hurt noise. ]

Jonas.

[ How funny, the way his presence almost seems to shrink in the wake of those words, the Arachne influence nothing compared to the sum of their parts – his and Jonas’. Stiles collapses boneless onto his friend’s lap, chair straddled backwards, and throws human arms around Jonas’ neck in an imitation of their reunion the night of the meteor shower. The spider limbs all go limp at once, two sliding off of Sasuke in absent distraction. ]

You’ve got me, [ he whispers, voice husky with suppressed emotion. His fingers shake where they’re fisted in Jonas’ shirt. ] Jonas… I feel…weird.

[The arachne isn't a subtle presence on the streets of Aefenglom tonight. From the eastern side of the Residential District, Itachi is witness to the construction of an elaborate web, silvery threads stretched and strung across the mouth of a narrow pedestrian street. The full and bloated moon casts enough light to see unaided, better illuminating the Monster's creation in its complexity—as well as its inconvenient blockade.

Out here nearer the Bright Wall, the houses are not as well-maintained nor populated, making the area an ideal location to practice. Itachi kneels on the lip of one such three-storied building, turning his gaze down onto the spider's web. He hears the approaching noise of footsteps and voices. Yet, once they've caught sight of the obstruction, their chatter turns to vocal annoyance as they veer in another direction.

Itachi leans back, weight balanced on his heels as he curls the fingers of one hand into an obscure signal.

The pealing, inharmonic lyrics of an unfamiliar song drift up to him, though Itachi doesn't immediately place an identity, instead focused on materializing the illusion. His magic isn't as strong tonight; he'd known this would happen. It doesn't matter. The reserve is enough, a seemingly bottomless well once he's cracked it open—at once a swarm of black-winged birds appear high in the air and begin to careen down, scattering, picking perches everywhere: on empty windowsills, on balconies, on vents, on gutters. Until the web and its creator are completely surrounded by a noisy murder of crows.

Itachi waits to see what they'll do.]

[Well, Connor is confused. But he blinks when water is splashed on him. It isn't unpleasant, being a Merrow, but he waves his hand and shoots a stream of water from the pool in Stiles' direction anyway. He can be just as bratty on the full moons.]

I'm an android.

[To prove it, he lifts his hand to let the skin deactivate, showing the plastic underneath up to about his elbow. There are real claws growing out of the plastic on his fingertips, and his fingers are elongated to the point they're a little creepy, not to mention the fins growing from his forearm... but the parts of Connor that are still him are white and shiny.]

(seizing up with the sudden weight deposited over his thighs, jonas' next swallow is audible in the otherwise silent dining room. it isn't him. it isn't him, it isn't him, it isn't him. it's happening again and they're all powerless to stop it, the witch's mind spiralling into a far darker place as it remembers what it was like to lose himself to something otherworldly. instead of by another spirit, stiles is possessed by the foul, cloying magic in this place and forced around by eight, gnarled, black legs that sag from him in pairs down the length of his back. realizing this, the inhale he's been holding is scared out of him in soft prayer. "oh, god."

hands—displaced by the suddenness of stiles' frantic hug, rattling them onto two chair legs—hesitate for a moment near a naked waist, where one settles and smooth higher to knead into wet, tacky skin below his shoulder blade. blood?)

Shhh, it's okay, it's okay– (breathed unevenly over his shoulder in heavy pants, wide, watery eyes staring sightlessly forward until they search down his bond's tether for desperate assistance.) I've got you, just– just stay with me now and talk to me; nothing bad's gonna' happen.

(sasuke's been forgotten, left alone by the limbs that've collapsed around him and stiles like a sparse skirt, which means he's free to move and mobilize if the situation gets dire. jonas knows this is temporary, if his experiences two months prior are any metric to go by, stiles momentarily shocked enough to withdraw from his arachne instincts and murmur hoarsely near his ear. with the night still young, there's no way this'll last. his strained sidelong stare at his bonded conveys as much.

but how do they manipulate the situation into one that won't damage stiles' trust? to attempt to pin him now would be foolish and it'd cost them.)

[ Once, he described the trichobothria as an instrument to Sasuke – creating sound from sensed vibrations in the air into music that only he can hear. Tonight, with those silky, fine hairs covering his arms from knuckles to biceps, he listens to a silent orchestra detailing to him every movement in an unimpeded half mile radius. It’s obnoxious. Unable to focus, the design of his current web is like something out of those YouTube videos of spiders on crack. Stiles scowls at it, unimpressed with his masterpiece. Just as he’s contemplating tearing it all down to start again, something catches his eye.

He starts violently. The sight of crows, dozens and dozens of them, is so unexpected that he’s baring deadly fangs in warning before his brain manages to catch up. Weird; he should have felt the displaced air from their wings. Now suspicious, Stiles tilts his head to study the birds with perfect lowlight vision. ]

Cute, [ he calls out dryly, scaling the web over to one of the buildings its tethered to. ] If I get imaginary bird shit on me, though, I’m not going to be a happy camper.

[ If the birds don’t move, he’ll pass right through them unconcernedly, zipping up the building in search of the Witch responsible for casting the magic. ]

[ The revenge stream of water elicits a pitchy shriek from Stiles, spider limbs hastily dragging him away from the pool in an attempt to avoid getting wet. Unfortunately, all he succeeds in doing is moving far enough back that the water splashes the front of his jeans. Ah, yes. The classic “I pissed myself” look. Wonderful.

Distracted by his damp pants, it takes a moment for him to realize what Connor has done. After that, his full attention is on the robot – android, he corrects himself. ]

Whaaaaat! [ It’s an exclamation more than a question. ] Holy shit, you’re actually the real deal! What’re you powered on?

[ Despite his current semi-feral Arachne state, Stiles is still a nerd at heart. ]

[Connor lowers his hand again, pleased by the shriek he managed to draw out of Stiles.]

Thirium. Also known as blue blood. It powers my biocomponents.

[He swims closer again, working off the sounds Stiles is making in order to track him. His tail swishes playfully in the water. The full moons always do tend to make him feel more like toying with people.]

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Page 1 of 9

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

CLOSED TO SHEVA

CLOSED TO JONAS & SASUKE

i rued the day and now it is here

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it's night

get dunked

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