[ at least stiles’ hand babies have gotten the message. eren brings both his hands into his pockets afterwards, but, hm. the fabric is starting to char from a blue-grey to brown, right at the bottom tips. he doesn’t realize much is wrong, considering the smell of a lit match on a product of the snap earlier, and continues, ]
It’s meant to sound ironic. [ stiles, big 🧠 , to have picked it out regardless of being dubious (though it’s not that hard to question if you’re curious). eren figures that if he really doesn’t know (which he should if they were remotely from the very same earth), it’s not something classified or sore enough to keep him tight lipped. ] Nations outside it would use “Paradise” when they’d condemn prisoners to a life on its coast, though.
[ the truth? eren flips his head back, and so went some of his hair. he doesn’t like the answer, of course, and seems to bite at it as he says it: ]
Prisoner. It was worse when we didn’t know it. [ or was it worse now? maybe the ignorance just made him feel like a complete idiot. even if his dimlit expressions, as somber as a winter’s lonely eve, don’t show it as brightly, his temper still boils within. he hates it. he hates it so much. the air he breathes out is hot and something smells like smoke— ] — I think your vines are burning.
[ Though he hasn’t put two and two together yet, the existence of the vines slowly saps his Manna and drains him of energy. As he becomes increasingly fatigued, Stiles instinctively starts to tug on them, retracting the vines into his palms from where they burst through. The action is absentminded, most of his attention focused on Eren – until the other young man points out the danger. Eyes wide, Stiles frantically looks at the vines in search of the fire, only to find none. The vines seem fine, if somewhat dejected from being thwarted messing with Eren. ]
Where do you see…? [ he begins hesitantly, then finally spots the ember nestled in one of the vine tips, nearly invisible to him from his angle. ] Shit.
[ The vines, picking up on his surge of panic, begin to writhe wildly like out-of-control firefighter hoses, making his intervention near impossible. All the while, Eren’s pocket continues to smolder. Eventually, after wrangling the vine in question to the ground and rolling aggressively over it to smother the ember, Stiles saves the day. Or, at least, does so in his mind. ]
Christ, that was – uh. [ Now he’s noticed Eren’s predicament. ] Dude, I think you’re on fire.
[ he feels the heat, but not the burn, if that made sense. from the smell under his nose comes a crackle at black holes on either sides of his hips, and from that crackle came a little dancing ember that ate away hungrily at the dry fabric he wore. oh, but that meant—
❗❗❗
eren jolts with a loud shit!, patting his hands against his thighs do something at first, rapidly, and he thinks it can go out that way, he'd been fast enough— until his palms burst with flame with the last smack he gave at his pockets. both sides.
[ Jaw dropping, he stares in undisguised horror as Eren’s pants literally go up in flames. In that moment, Stiles has two thoughts. First, he’s about to see if Ruby Gembonded are flame retardant – very important for data collection. Second, he’s going to get an eyeful if those pants disintegrate, oh my god. With that last realization in mind, Stiles reaches out for the other young man’s pants with the vines, grabbing them by the ankles and –
RIP.
– tearing them straight off of Eren’s body. Hopefully the Eldian isn’t going commando underneath. The flaming pants are tossed to a corner of the room, the smoke activating the overhead sprinklers, which quickly go off and drench everything on the observation deck. ]
[ the funny thing was, was that it wasn’t actually burning— it was hot, but not burning, and that alone gets eren to stare wide eyed and still at the flames eating at the thighs of his slacks.
luckily, or unluckily . . . was ripping them right off in a seamless whoosh. the loud rip was even louder than any alarm to eren’s ears, realizing, with his stare fixed down— that he was now clad in old time briefs, out in the open. the sprinklers fall, eren’s entirety goes out in a sizzle, and there he stands, flat faced, damp, and having no sense of modesty. he just. gestures with his arms out, inhales, then lets them fall to his side with a light snack of his thighs. at least he’s. a twunk???? ]
. . . Thanks.
[ flatly said and almost difficult to make out if he’s being sarcastic or not. to be honest, he’s more upset that his only pants are gone, but they would’ve been gone with the burning alone. ]
[ The day has been saved. Stiles, panting slightly from the exertion of using the vines (they’re draining way too much of his available Manna now), beams at Eren in spite of the other boy’s flat, unimpressed reaction. After another moment, the vines shrivel up into black husks, unable to retain their shape as his energy source dwindles, then disappear completely. He shakes out his hands, mildly surprised. ]
Huh.
[ The sprinklers still haven’t stopped spraying the area with water. Sneakers squelching with every movement, he crosses the observation deck to where the pants were flung and picks them up. When he turns to offer them up to Eren – or what remains of the pants, at least – he finally seems to notice that the Eldian is now half-naked. And ripped. Those thighs look like they could crush solid rock. ]
Wha…uh… [ Yes, very intelligent, Stilinski. ] H-here.
[ In his mild embarrassment of having noticed Eren’s musculature, he just…throws the pants at the Eldian’s head. ]
So, I’m guessing spontaneous combustion is new for you?
[ how does he even PUT these ON. eren's reaction time is only mildly skewed with the water being drizzled onto them and smoothing his growing hair, so catching them before they took over his head was plausible, it not for the ripped legs just— flying around with the momentum. he's . . . he's still got his shoes on. help.
at most, he considers stiles' stuttering is out of having actually ripped his pants off. there's nothing new on his body when all the scouts carried the same, uniform type. when will he ever be horny? stay tuned. he's trying to figure out how to still use these pants, or at the very least—. hm. time to shoulder off his blazer. improvise. adapt. overcome. ]
It's more focused than what I'm used to. [ what do you mean he's used to heat explosions! ah, but there's something he's beginning to notice as he opens his blazer and hugs it around his waist, tying the sleeves. he's looking stiles up and down, but for a different reason. ] How much can you lift?
[ Thank shit that Eren seems to have come up with a temporary solution to the no-pants situation. Stiles is striving not to glance in the general direction of the other boy’s groin, but it’s – no pun intended – hard. It was one thing when he was stuck in the locker room with the other guys on the lacrosse team, naked and sweaty. It’s completely another now when he’s more comfortable with his not-so-heterosexual sexuality. But my, doesn’t Eren’s hair look so glossy and fine when soaked through like this?
Focus, Stilinski. ]
D-did you seriously just ask me how much can I lift?
[ Is this a meme. Is he being meme’d.
Squinting suspiciously, Stiles grabs the edge of his own shirt and wrings it out…even as the sprinklers continue to water down everything. Thanks sprinklers. ]
I dunno… Not a ton? I’ve never actually tried to calculate the exact weight. Why?
[ eren's brow lifts sharply— yes? maybe there's water in his ears, but, at least that won't be much of a problem anymore. the system is shutting down leaving them on a squeaky, slippery surface only bound to slide across . . . ]
Because you ripped my pants off. [ that's some pretty stronk focused energy there, but emeralds would be emeralds? though eren didn't know that and waves it off. he's not exactly upset that his pants were that ripped if there was the chance he could get them replaced easier than he could replace his clothes back home, and, not wanting to convey any ill feeling: ] C'mon, if they have extra pants, they have something to dry you with.
[ And naturally, Stiles does slide across the wet surface of the observation deck, his sneakers squelching in protest as he nearly falls flat on his damn face. ]
I didn’t rip them off, [ he begins with a huff, ] the vines did.
[ Because there’s apparently a difference, even when the vines came from his own body. Listen, don’t argue with him, okay? Stiles isn’t adapting to this new world where he has superpowers very gracefully. But he’s content to follow Eren, lightly complaining all the while about his wet clothes – which inevitably leads to a one-sided conversation about stiff nipples, which then degrades into rambling about every inane thought that comes to mind. Sorry, Eren. Hey, it’s better than silence, right? Right. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
It’s meant to sound ironic. [ stiles, big 🧠 , to have picked it out regardless of being dubious (though it’s not that hard to question if you’re curious). eren figures that if he really doesn’t know (which he should if they were remotely from the very same earth), it’s not something classified or sore enough to keep him tight lipped. ] Nations outside it would use “Paradise” when they’d condemn prisoners to a life on its coast, though.
no subject
Ironic. Right.
[ Except Stiles, with the modicum of information he possesses about Eren’s world, wonders if it’s really as ironic as the Eldian says it is. ]
So, if that’s true…are you a prisoner or a warden?
no subject
Prisoner. It was worse when we didn’t know it. [ or was it worse now? maybe the ignorance just made him feel like a complete idiot. even if his dimlit expressions, as somber as a winter’s lonely eve, don’t show it as brightly, his temper still boils within. he hates it. he hates it so much. the air he breathes out is hot and something smells like smoke— ] — I think your vines are burning.
no subject
Where do you see…? [ he begins hesitantly, then finally spots the ember nestled in one of the vine tips, nearly invisible to him from his angle. ] Shit.
[ The vines, picking up on his surge of panic, begin to writhe wildly like out-of-control firefighter hoses, making his intervention near impossible. All the while, Eren’s pocket continues to smolder. Eventually, after wrangling the vine in question to the ground and rolling aggressively over it to smother the ember, Stiles saves the day. Or, at least, does so in his mind. ]
Christ, that was – uh. [ Now he’s noticed Eren’s predicament. ] Dude, I think you’re on fire.
no subject
❗❗❗
eren jolts with a loud shit!, patting his hands against his thighs do something at first, rapidly, and he thinks it can go out that way, he'd been fast enough— until his palms burst with flame with the last smack he gave at his pockets. both sides.
with that, eren's pants are literally on fire.
no subject
RIP.
– tearing them straight off of Eren’s body. Hopefully the Eldian isn’t going commando underneath. The flaming pants are tossed to a corner of the room, the smoke activating the overhead sprinklers, which quickly go off and drench everything on the observation deck. ]
no subject
luckily, or unluckily . . . was ripping them right off in a seamless whoosh. the loud rip was even louder than any alarm to eren’s ears, realizing, with his stare fixed down— that he was now clad in old time briefs, out in the open. the sprinklers fall, eren’s entirety goes out in a sizzle, and there he stands, flat faced, damp, and having no sense of modesty. he just. gestures with his arms out, inhales, then lets them fall to his side with a light snack of his thighs. at least he’s. a twunk???? ]
. . . Thanks.
[ flatly said and almost difficult to make out if he’s being sarcastic or not. to be honest, he’s more upset that his only pants are gone, but they would’ve been gone with the burning alone. ]
no subject
Huh.
[ The sprinklers still haven’t stopped spraying the area with water. Sneakers squelching with every movement, he crosses the observation deck to where the pants were flung and picks them up. When he turns to offer them up to Eren – or what remains of the pants, at least – he finally seems to notice that the Eldian is now half-naked. And ripped. Those thighs look like they could crush solid rock. ]
Wha…uh… [ Yes, very intelligent, Stilinski. ] H-here.
[ In his mild embarrassment of having noticed Eren’s musculature, he just…throws the pants at the Eldian’s head. ]
So, I’m guessing spontaneous combustion is new for you?
no subject
at most, he considers stiles' stuttering is out of having actually ripped his pants off. there's nothing new on his body when all the scouts carried the same, uniform type. when will he ever be horny? stay tuned. he's trying to figure out how to still use these pants, or at the very least—. hm. time to shoulder off his blazer. improvise. adapt. overcome. ]
It's more focused than what I'm used to. [ what do you mean he's used to heat explosions! ah, but there's something he's beginning to notice as he opens his blazer and hugs it around his waist, tying the sleeves. he's looking stiles up and down, but for a different reason. ] How much can you lift?
no subject
Focus, Stilinski. ]
D-did you seriously just ask me how much can I lift?
[ Is this a meme. Is he being meme’d.
Squinting suspiciously, Stiles grabs the edge of his own shirt and wrings it out…even as the sprinklers continue to water down everything. Thanks sprinklers. ]
I dunno… Not a ton? I’ve never actually tried to calculate the exact weight. Why?
no subject
Because you ripped my pants off. [ that's some pretty stronk focused energy there, but emeralds would be emeralds? though eren didn't know that and waves it off. he's not exactly upset that his pants were that ripped if there was the chance he could get them replaced easier than he could replace his clothes back home, and, not wanting to convey any ill feeling: ] C'mon, if they have extra pants, they have something to dry you with.
/fin ❤
I didn’t rip them off, [ he begins with a huff, ] the vines did.
[ Because there’s apparently a difference, even when the vines came from his own body. Listen, don’t argue with him, okay? Stiles isn’t adapting to this new world where he has superpowers very gracefully. But he’s content to follow Eren, lightly complaining all the while about his wet clothes – which inevitably leads to a one-sided conversation about stiff nipples, which then degrades into rambling about every inane thought that comes to mind. Sorry, Eren. Hey, it’s better than silence, right? Right. ]
👈 👀👈
he's right. ]