What the hell is a Stiles? (_stiles) wrote in spinningcompass, @ 2012-10-01 10:30:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !open, !plot |
Who: Stiles Stilinski & OPEN
Where: Stiles' dreamscape
What: A little bit of a nightmare, who knows what else. Erotic fantasy? Extended nightmare? Clouds and candy? I'll roll with anything.
When: Night of the 30th
Rating: Low for now
Status: Open.
Stiles didn't sleep a lot. But when he did sleep his mind was a mess. Being here without any of his medication was not helpful in any way, his brain was firing thoughts and images off at a million miles an hour. His dreams tended to be a little bit fucked up.
The full moon didn't help. Stiles had seen it before he'd fallen asleep and now he was walking through the forest at home, the moon high and huge above him. He knew the wolves would be out somewhere. He knew for that alone he should probably be a little bit apprehensive but Derek had managed to keep everyone under control the last few months. And Scott would be out there somewhere. Stiles was fine.
It seemed odd to him that there were so many creatures awake in the forest when the wolves were around. He'd been out here late many, many nights over the years and he didn't think he'd ever heard so much noise. Squeaks and grunts and fluttering wings and soft footsteps of creatures smaller than him. Usually it was silent. Surely tonight it should be more silent.
He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket to check the time. The digital display twisted and shifted around like oil. How frustrating. He didn't know. But it was dark, so it was late, because the sun wasn't starting to go down until eightish and the sky was fully dark. Tedious.
Stiles thought he might head towards Derek's place, but the prospect of coming up against several annoyed werewolves didn't appeal to him much. But it was the only place in the woods that he knew. And why was he out here in the first place? He couldn't remember. There had to be a reason he'd decided this would be a good idea. Where was his dad? Was his dad working tonight?
And then he trod in something. Something huge and white and sticky that reminded him somewhat of a marshmallow. Gross. Why were there marshmallows in the woods? He had a lot of questions. Like why the trees were all lined up so neatly. And why they were all so very uniform in shape and size and width- He'd never seen this before. Maybe he'd wandered in a different direction. How was he supposed to get back?
Shit.