MoM IC Contact Post

[threeisapattern]

IC contact for Stiles Stilinski: texts, phone calls, voicemails, pigeons, etc.

Comments

[threeisapattern]

nobody dude

text >> action

[kid_flash_found]

Too busy for pizza?

[There's a short pause between that and the next one.]

Too busy to answer the door?

[And with that there's a knock on Stiles' door.]

[threeisapattern]

[Ahhhh, crap.

Stiles has about two seconds to process that text before he hears Bart knock on his bedroom door while Derek gets up from where he was chilling on the floor to go snuffling at the door, tail wagging excitedly, so there's no choice to ignore this even if he did feel like totally ignoring Bart.]

...Hey, man.

[kid_flash_found]

[Bart shifts the boxes to one hand so he can keep the happy dog from getting his hands on any of the pizza, even as he gives an impish grin.]

Busy works once. It's been a few weeks since you joined in.

But you can still tell me to go.

[It's just harder to do in person.]

[threeisapattern]

[Stiles sighs before pushing the door open even further in invitation. Not that he had any chance of shutting it once Derek realized there was (a) Bart and (b) pizza.] It's cool, dude. Sorry I've been flaking. I'm not avoiding you.

[kid_flash_found]

[Bart nods, and gives Derek a scratch to say hello.]

Top box is yours. But if I've learned anything about this century, I know everything is better with pizza.

[threeisapattern]

Pretty sure that's true any century with pizza.

[He grabs the indicated box off the top and puts it on his desk, though he doesn't get a slice yet.]

...So.

[kid_flash_found]

Want to talk, or should I just move on to the discussion of why the furmonster isn't supposed to share our dinner?

[threeisapattern]

He can have, like - a bite. [Derek whines, definitely complaining in dog about the tiny amount he's being allowed, and Stiles ruffles his ears affectionately.] It's not good for you, bud, I've told you that.

[kid_flash_found]

Yeah, I know. They lose the ability to process milk-fats and other things, like some people. Doesn't mean we aren't going to both have puppy-dog-eyes to deal with as long as there's anything that smells yummy.

[He's amused, though, and shifts to put his own boxes next to the one Stiles had taken so he can grab a piece, and pinches off a bit of crust to offer. No cheese, but a little bit of something so the poor guy won't feel totally left out.]

I think Gar said it's a predator thing. That if there's food, you eat until there's no room, because it might be a while before more is available. He was always careful when he was in those shapes, but then, he rarely ate in another form in general.