bakerstreet | ( stargazing )

( stargazing )

Vega, Altair and Deneb, The Summer Triangle and the Milky way

the stargazing meme

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oo4. play out what happens—anything goes!
oo5. profit? oh yeah!

prompts

one → meteor shower you just saw a falling star! and another! make a wish!
two → aliens what was that? was that really? omg no way a ufo!
three → lunar eclipse you've been sitting out for hours, waiting for this. it's so cool!
four → comet does it move fast or slow? either way, it's amazing.
five → full moon the moon is so huge! just don't look too long, it's really bright too.
six → star dust anything can happen in space. make up your own plot!
seven → solar eclipse this might be happening in the middle of the day!
eight → planet sighting is that a new star? nope, just a neighbor in the solar system!
nine → constellations do you know the stories behind these odd patterns?
ten → deep space normal stargazing isn't that much fun. you got a telescope!

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[He was lying on the hood of his jeep, one arm behind his head as he gazed up at the blanket of white dots overhead. He was out near the preserve, just wanting a little time away from... everything, really. His dad kept looking at him in this way that had him not sure if he was worried he'd break or if he was worried that Void wasn't all gone. Not that he blamed him. God, he'd be suspicious too, but it was just fraying already worn nerves and he had to get away.

So he went out to do a little stargazing. Alone.

Or so he thought.]

[ she’s barefoot.

it’s the closest malia can get, these days, to feeling like she can run the way she used to. shoes aggravate her still, even when she isn’t half-shifted. the soles of her feet are comparatively ginger next to the rough pads of a coyote’s paws, but if that were the worst of her problems, she wouldn’t be running around the preserve at night in the first place.

she stops at the edge of a wooded area—as wooded as this part of california ever gets, that is—and slams a hand into one of the trees, frustration leaking through. she wants to shift. she wants to turn into a wild animal and lose herself in these woods, but instead she can’t even muster the self control to turn her claws and feet without coaching.

she shuts her eyes. breathes. scott’s helping. it’s not his fault she’s … out of practice. the boughs of the tree tremble as she looks up, realizing the force of her punch was stronger than she’d meant. when she hikes up away from the trees, ready to head back, she looks down and brushes some bark out of scrapes in her knuckles.

a scent leads her to hesitate, all of her weight on one-foot, mid-stride. she looks up, suddenly alert. prowling behind one tree, she peers at the pull-off of a side road leading up to the preserve, spotting a (by now) familiar blue jeep.

stiles.

she walks out, adrenal glands taking a break from tensing her up over potential threats. he’s not a hunter or a cougar. he’d probably scream if he saw one. ]

What are you doing out here?

[ it’s amazing how she makes that sound like he’s somehow invading her home. ]

[Probably? No probablys about it. He'd shriek like a girl and fall off the hood.

As it was, the unexpected sound of her voice when he'd thought he'd been alone had him jerking up to see where it was coming from and--

falling off the jeep. Ow.

He quickly got up, dusting off his hands and giving her a lopsided smile. Of course she was out here. Why wouldn't she be? She hated being stuck in her room at home.]

Um... just... ah...

[He pointed up.]

Looking at the stars? What are you doing out here?

What do you think?

[ she means for that to come off more gently than it does. or, you know, gently at all. it’s as coarse as the rest of her. her guard’s still up, just a little, but it comes further down as she approaches him. ]

I was running. [ her lips purse with dissatisfaction. ] Slowly.

Slowly. Sure. Right. Your 'slow' is pretty much my top speed. Excuse me if I don't find that entirely depressing. No, wait. That is completely depressing.

[He moves to hope back up on the hood, patting a spot for her to sit if she wants.]

Where the hell are your shoes? What if you step on something?

[ slightly miffed, she rolls her eyes. honestly, the lack of sympathy is more comforting than anything else would be. she doesn’t do touchy-feely, but she’s still butthurt about being a human so excuse her if she isn’t content with her groundspeed.

at his prompting, she looks down at her feet which are covered in dark soil and have leaves stuck to the bottom. she leans against the fender of his jeep, pulling a thorn out of her heel. there’s small bloodied spots on her feet from rocks, branches, and other similar ‘somethings,’ but nothing that makes it look like a saw movie. ]

They’re uncomfortable, and they slow me down. [ she says it all very matter-of-factly. obviously, stiles. her nose crinkles and she looks up at the sky. out here, it’s easier to see the stars peeking out of the darkness. ] Even the sky looks different. [ in this, at least, she sound nonjudgmental—purely because she can’t decide if ‘different’ is better or worse in this case. limited range of color vision really didn’t give credit to the deep, almost purple-blue of the night sky. ]

Then get better shoes. You can get sports ones that fit properly and probably feel like there's not much there. And they'll keep you from stepping in shit.

[Literal or figurative. He looked down at her foot and sighed.]

Sit up on the hood. I've got some wipes in glove compartment. I'll see if any of that's bad.

[Not that a werewolf, or werecoyote really needed nursing, but it gave him something to do.]

If it were bad, I would have stopped.

[ wow humans make literally no sense she is just sitting here befuddled. and also adverse to orders on principle, but she pulls herself up onto the hood all the way regardless. ]

You don’t get it. [ there’s no blame there, but it’s a fact—not an opinion. ] There is no properly. Do you know how long I went without wearing shoes?

And then what? Flown home? You kind of need to move around on your feet, Malia.

[He's already slid off the hood and has gone around to the side of the jeep, opening the passenger door and digging in the glove box for the wipes container. Bingo.

He comes around to the front and moves to put his foot up on the bumper, reaching down for one of her feet to lift and rest on his knee.]

There's a whole world of differences now. It's the same thing with how you have to wear clothes now and not pee in public. Shoes are just part of it. You're not... this body's a bit more fragile in some ways. You have to adapt.

[ how did he know about the time she tried to pee in public ???

kidding. probably.

her expression sours a little as she tilts her head, watching him set her foot up on his knee. she cooperates, mainly because she’s not really sure why he’s doing all of this. is this how people are?? like at least coyotes don’t try to bathe each other they just sniff each other’s butts. meaningful coyote commentary from malia tate, you’re welcome.

unfortunately, he’s right. adapt to survive is a lesson that malia has learned as a sort of trial by fire, so she’s unable to deny his points. ]

I’m not going to die or get arrested for running around barefoot.

[ probably. also she definitely either struggled with the clothes thing or the peeing in public thing in order to learn the ‘you will get arrested’ lesson. heads or tails which it was tbh. ]

Why do you care what I do? [ a pack would have left her behind, and only welcomed her back if she’d managed to keep moving before something swooped in to eat an easy target. she’s done it before. ]

[He pulls out a wipe and starts to gently clean off the debris from her feet, looking to see if any spots of red well up as he does.]

You could. Die, I mean. There's broken glass and needles and garbage around and I don't really know the werewolf healing rate for HIV or hepatitis.

[More swipes, more dirt falling off and another wipe pulled out to start cleaning the rest of the marks off, passing it over the top of her foot and heel as well.]

Why wouldn't I care what you do? You're my friend, right?

[ it stings when it wipes over some of the small cuts and scrapes from the uneven dirt of the woods, but no worse than getting them in the first place had hurt. callouses will form and it will be easier next time.

except stiles seems pretty set on there not being a next time. ]

I don’t know what that is. [ she grinds her teeth a little, mainly because he knows that she doesn’t know and he’s throwing those words out anyway. she never got the horrible fear-mongering std health class ok. the context makes it clear it's a disease of some kind, at least. ] Coyotes would let each other learn from catching HIV and hepatitis from whatever garbage humans have thrown out there.

[ grumble grumble grumble!! she puffs out a sigh, blowing up some askew bangs. ]

I just like feeling the dirt. [ her toes wiggle. dirt comes out from between them. very ladylike, such grace, much attraction, wow. ] What do you suggest?

Run on a beach. Maybe. A safe beach. Or build a little area behind your house that has dirt you can walk around in that you know doesn't have garbage in it.

[He'll clean out that dirt, giving her an exasperated look, but hey, that's one foot clean now. Look at that. Pretty little pink toes. He'll lower that one and move to pick up her other, grabbing a new wipe to start on that one.]

They're diseases, Malia. Deadly ones. You need to take better care of yourself before you wind up giving me multiple heart attacks before I even hit twenty.

Because you’re my friend.

[ more than anything, she’s trying to apply what she’s learning to new situations so that she can (hopefully) understand exactly how it is stiles works. it’s all foreign to her: as a coyote, she just looked out for herself. it made things easy. now she’s supposed to, like, think about other people and how they would be affected.

it kinda sucks.

on the same note, though, stiles has done nothing but help her since she turned back. even then, he’d been trying to help her with scott. he’s got a good heart, and she’s … frankly, kind of attached. she relents. ]

I can take care of myself. [ she pulls the cleaned foot back, folding it over her thigh so she can rub it with her hands, investigating the tiny nicks in her skin. ] You don’t have to freak out.

Someone has to and in case it's escaped your notice, I happen to be pretty good at freaking out. It's my thing.

[The bigger clumps of dirt and leaves and whatever else she'd picked up from running were wiped off first and most of Stiles' attention was on his task, his answers coming sort of distractedly.]

I know you can take care of yourself, but... you don't have to. Not anymore. I mean, not just by yourself. That's kind of the benefit of having friends.

I’m not allowed to run in the woods anymore because you might freak out. About diseases that I may or may not get.

[ She stares at him for a long moment, genuinely not understanding. ]

What part of that is beneficial, again?

[ Oh. Right. She gets Stiles … cleaning her feet. She rolls her eyes just barely and looks back upwards at the sky. At least she’s not interrupting him. ]

Exactly.

[He said that with a small bit of satisfaction, looking up at her and smiling before he went back to cleaning her foot. New wipe and he used it to give it one last thorough wiping, careful around any nicks.]

There. Good as new. Well, almost new. Look, if your shoes aren't comfortable, we can go to a sports center and get you athletic ones. They have lots that are for professional runners and I'm sure we can find you something good.

New to me.

[ That’s a joke. Or, an attempt at one. Her sense of humor is a work in progress too. She looks back down at him and takes the wipes, bundling them all up and stuffing them into her jacket pocket because some people have run around in those woods and don’t support littering okay. ]

I don’t want special shoes. It’s fine, okay; I’ll deal. [ She huffs, bringing up her other foot so she can sit cross legged. Scooting back, she pats the hood beside her. ] Come on. My feet are off the ground—I’m not gonna catch anything. [ So he can stop worrying and just sit here. ]

[Right. Sure. Stop worrying. Like that would ever happen while he was in this town. But he hopped up to sit beside her, tipping his head to look back up at the sky again.]

You know, I used to wonder about all the things that might be out there, like aliens and other worlds and stuff. Kind of silly when I had no idea what actually existed down here, huh?

Werewolves are real. So what? That doesn’t mean aliens aren’t too.

[ Sorry that she isn’t taking your existential crisis seriously, Stiles. ]

I never thought about it. I was too busy focusing on what was going on down here to spend a lot of time looking up.

[ Lying down beside him, she stares up into the black expanse of space, treetops intruding at the corners of her vision. ]

I just mean that it's stupid I was busy thinking about everything not here when there's so much here that's... you know.

[He looked over at her as she lay down, curious.]

What was it like? I mean, being a coyote. Was it really all that different?

Everything was right now.

[ After another moment of allowing her gaze to linger on the sky, she turns onto her side, folding her hands under the side of her face and watching him. ]

We follow our instincts. We don’t worry about tomorrow, or next week, or get caught up thinking about things like aliens and other people’s problems or guilt. [ That had been the appeal, originally. ] We never had time because we had to focus on surviving.

It was completely different.

[ Now she thinks about guilt; she thinks about whether or not she's saying the right thing; she thinks about tomorrow, and a week from then; she thinks about Stiles and if he's still trying to fight the nogitsune spirit; she thinks about when people aren't going to twitch over the name Allison anymore. ]

Animals are easy. People are complicated.

No arguing here.

[He gave her a small smile, then turned his head back to look up at the sky. It was strange, just lying here with her. Usually they were over at his house or Scott's and she was getting her werewolf training. Scott asked him to come over since she seemed to concentrate better around him? Which made no sense, but hey, he got to spend time with Scott and a girl he'd...

Let's not go there. He'd learned to start cutting his brain off at the path when Scott had informed him that every time he thought things, anyone with a sense of smell around him could tell. That was mildly embarrassing.]

Do you still hate us for it? For... for changing you back?

[ That causes her to shift, rubbing her thumb over the dull edges of her nails. They’re not sharp or strong or pointed. They’re flat like flimsy crescent moons, and they can hardly leave red marks. ]

I don’t hate you, but it still sucks.

[ A scowl accompanies her verdict, nose crinkling. Her gaze lifts back to his face and she tilts her head up just a little, leaning off her hands. ]

… What was that? [ Her eyes dart down to his chest. It nags at her. ] What did you just think about? [ She heard a very distinct jump in his heart, but she's still teaching herself how to read humans with that kind of thing. As a coyote, the only really useful biological cue was fear. ]

[Shit.]

Nothing?

[God, he sucked at lying. He sucked more when he was taken by surprise by someone that could smell his lies. And other things. Nope. No thinking of other things ever. Not even by himself.

Which he was clearly going to have to do later when he went home.]

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I almost tagged you on the sexting meme too >>

do it tbh she will be so confused

Stiles gets drunk and thinks this is a good idea. =|

much like all of stiles' ideas, it sounds great right up until execution

Shh, his execution is flawless

boy's game has left and is in another country tbh

Ouch.

js.

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