Re: Quicklog: Scott/Stiles/Bobby
[Stiles was standing frozen in the center of the room, in what amounted to a crater of office wreckage. Writing utensils, staples and even the shattered remains of someone's coffee mug had been driven away from the nogitsune's current form with such force that they were completely embedded into the wall. All the injured and dead had been carried off already, and the remains of the room were cast in shadow that moved like liquid, sluggish and smelling of acrid mountain air. The room was, of course, cold, thanks to Bobby, and the ice the mutant had used to restrain the boy restrained his entire body up to the neck. The ice glistened like his eyes, to dark black marbles of unrelenting stone.
Someone had the wit enough to give Stiles the cure before he'd come to, and now the nogitsune was somewhat in possession of his own mind, though both boy and demon were weakened enough to inhabit nearly the same waking moments.]
Privacy? A tender moment, just for me?
[Ice crackles as he turned his head ever so slightly to try to see the entrance to the room.]