robinonadderall (
robinonadderall) wrote2013-06-24 10:38 am
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Not-So-Creepy Mansion | Monday Morning
Stiles had not stayed last night during the full moon shenanigans. He felt like it'd be too awkward considering last week. So he put up a circle of mountain ash, made sure everybody was going to be fine and then went back to the dorms because apparently he felt bad enough for Ms. Blake that he actually completed an essay on Heart of Darkness for her. What a whipped not-student he was.
But he was back bright and early Monday 'cause he got the feeling Jackson would like to escape as soon as possible. He broke the circle of mountain ash and then let himself inside.
"Circle's broken, you can leave now!" Stiles shouted, picking up Puppy Joe and then heading into the kitchen to make himself coffee. You people owed him coffee.
[For the people in the house! Werewolf business NFB please]
But he was back bright and early Monday 'cause he got the feeling Jackson would like to escape as soon as possible. He broke the circle of mountain ash and then let himself inside.
"Circle's broken, you can leave now!" Stiles shouted, picking up Puppy Joe and then heading into the kitchen to make himself coffee. You people owed him coffee.
[For the people in the house! Werewolf business NFB please]
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But at least he hadn't hurt anyone. Not that that stopped his eyes from tearing up with frustration when he woke up this morning, but it was something. Hearing Stiles' voice, he pulled himself together and made his way up the stairs, up from the basement.
... And then banged his fist off the basement door when he found it locked. He couldn't really complain about it, not with the claw marks around the basement that had probably not been there when he'd been confined here last night, but ugh. "Come on!"
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He did unlock the door eventually and opened it, coffee in one hand and Puppy Joe tucked under his arm. He had missed the little dog, okay? "Sorry about that."
He wasn't that sorry.
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"Yeah, whatever." He didn't care whether Stiles was sorry about anything, anyway. And then he eyes Puppy Joe. "What the hell is that thing?"
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Don't be slow, Jackson.
"It barely looks like a real dog."
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"Coffee?"
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But he was getting coffee in silence right now.
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"You made it through," he said, with something like respect. "Twenty-eight days and we get to do it again."
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"You're making that dog think it can't walk."
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He was hungry. Give him a few more minutes, and he might come up with longer sentences.
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"Thanks," he said, and then a moment later: "Door got scratched up."
Him or Jackson? Or both of them? He wasn't sure it even mattered.
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"Hi Puppy Joe," he said, sounding tired. "Hi ... people."
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