august: catch-all | » cause i'm out here on the other side «

[blackfly]

WHO: Stiles Stilinski & You. (ft. Derek Hale?)
WHERE: Heropa #002, houses nearby; open!
WHEN: Through-out August.
WHAT: Stiles sleepwalks when not getting to know his new home town, which means he might just wander into your place while snoozing. Sorry?
WARNINGS: n/a for now.
ETC: Open starters under the cut, closed threads will be in comments. If there's something you'd like to snag Stiles for or would like me to write you a starter lmk! Hit me up on plurk (valleyheart) and I'll do my best to get things rolling.



i. heropa: day

[Stiles is the new kid on the block and moving in was smooth, at least so far as he owned literally no possessions and just walked himself into a vacant room declaring it his own. Blank walls staring at him took a little while to get used to, but after a vivacious session of drumming his hands against his desk - he couldn't take it anymore. The walls were too empty and his mind too full.

So for the first few days of settling in, Stiles' room's door is left ajar to allow passers-by to bear witness to a tornado of a kid scribbling down notes and assembling a collage on the wall that resembles that of a griseled detective's corkboard or... a deranged murderer's wall of fixation. Kind of a mix of both? It's a work in progress, sliding from one extreme to the other depending on the red string and pins involved and the bold cue cards with 'OTO' and 'LACHESIS?' stuck, taped and pinned into place.

Should you seek to engage, he'll whirl around with a hand up and a quick:] Looks a lot crazier than it is, I know. Trust me, not the crazy new guy? I swear.

ii. heropa: night

[Not having a computer is the literal worst, so when that's not enough or Stiles needs to stretch his legs between bouts of squinty eyed reading, he sprawls out in the common space on the couch (and later on the space where the couch used to be,) or makes himself poptarts at exactly 2:53 am. Only once does the microwave beep incessantly at 4:59 am before he makes a mad dash to stop it, caught up in old Majority Reports.

Clearly, he's the best roomie his roommates could've asked for. Excluding the 'comes with a big grumpy dog', as anyone in the vicinity is going to quickly notice. But despite the fact he's made a small but genuine promise that he's not the weird new roommate? Well, he might just well be, despite what he said. Why, you ask? Well...

When he's not making 4am burritos trying to fight off a dreadful spike of insomnia, Stiles does manage to fall asleep. But he doesn't rest peacefully, no. Occasionally in the middle of the night his figure rises from the bed, pacing down the halls of the shared apartment to linger in the kitchen, to stand in doorways and stare unseeing at distant shadows, sleepwalking.

Bare foot and in thin pj pants and a t-shirt, maybe you catch him standing like a shadow in the hall when going for a glass of water, or maybe it's a little bit weirder with him standing briefly by the foot of your bed - eyes looking not at you, but through you. That's not too weird, you think - but then you begin to realize that this kid Stiles isn't even your roommate. He lives down the block. How the hell did he get in here?]

Comments

[drivesadesk]

[Jonathan had been in bed, curled up in his blankets wearing nothing but his boxers when he hears someone moving around in the house. His first thought is that it's Lester. Still, he gets up to check it out, flicking on a light when...well, that's not Lester.]

Who the hell are you?

[And that's when he realizes the person isn't even awake. And so he walks up to the stranger, Jonathan's own reptilian face close to Stiles's own, completely unaware of his resemblance to a kanima, fascinated at the fact that this human is walking around and functioning while seeming to be completely unaware of his surroundings. Then he decides to shake this person to see if he can snap him out of his current state.]

[blackfly]

[Not awake is right, and for a long moment, Stiles does nothing but simply stand where he came to a wandering stop in the middle of the room. His eyes are glossy and unfocused, but they sluggishly track from one side to the other, but don't seem to register the scaly dude in front of him. Pity or a blessing, that's up for debate.

Giving him a shake doesn't stir him either, though it does start to rustle him from the depths of a very vivid dream and he murmurs something indecipherable. It takes two attempts before what he says is more audible, albeit still disjointed as he tugs away from Jonathan and takes a step back.]

Six - six? Six fingers. Do I have six fingers? I don't know. I don't know.

[drivesadesk]

Um...no, you have...

[Wait. If shaking didn't work, then he was fairly certain he wasn't being heard right now. He'd have to try more things to get this guy to snap out of it. Jonathan then tries clapping once, loudly, right in front of this guy's face.]

[blackfly]

[He'd started to get Stiles' attention the way subtle actions or responses outside a dream could sometimes stimulate it, though like a train speeding too fast down the tracks - the clap derails him. His eyes, once hazy, become more focused in an instant and that focus turns to panic as he shouts in startled surprise. This isn't where he went to bed, this isn't where he's supposed to be and -]

Wh- Where am...

[He freezes up, heart already in his throat as he stares wide eyed at Jonathan with a sudden pulse of fear. Green skin, scaley and very kanima-like... He thought Derek was the only supernatural thing around. He was so, so wrong. He's still dreaming. He has to be still dreaming. He scrambles backward.]

Oh God, why does this keep happening to me.

[drivesadesk]

Jonathan saw the reaction and...wasn't surprised, honestly. He took a couple steps toward the stranger, raising his hands to placate him, before he stopped. Going closer wouldn't help.

"Relax, I'm not going to hurt you."

[blackfly]

[Each step made toward him by Jonathan was met by Stiles scrambling back one of his own, up until he hits back against the doorframe with wide eyes and mouth agape. A kanima? A kanima. A... talking kanima? His desperate urge to call someone for help is mildly abated by the weirdness of that but then, hey, he's patting his pockets only to remember he's in his pjs. No phone.]

Yooou stay away. Why are you in...

[Huh.]

Wait a sec, this isn't - my...

[drivesadesk]

Yeah, no. This is my house.

[He stands in place, not wanting to spook this guy more.]