[ Having been attuned to a diurnal sleep schedule for the past several months, he’s learned through his midnight wanderings which businesses in Aefenglom are open at night and which are not. So, when Jake exits a particular jewelry store that Stiles often passes in his daily circuit around the city, the teenager is instantly suspicious. He looks from the man – a slow, skeptical onceover – to the door that wasn’t locked, then back to the man. ]
Dude, you’re the kind of guy diamonds are cut on, [ he remarks bluntly, eyeing the musculature visible even through the overstuffed jacket, ] not the kind of guy who sells them.
[ A pause. ]
…I charge a referral fee, just a FYI.
[ Sorry, dad. Hanging out with Jonas has turned him even more into a petty criminal than he already was. ]
Well, thank you very much. Haven't heard a compliment that sweet in a while; pretty sure I'm gonna' have to self-appropriate that one.
[ Jake "Diamond-Cutter" Muller. It has a good ring to it, honestly. Shoulders lift in a drawn out shrug, gloved palms pointing skyward in a move that may or may not be intentionally coordinated to draw more attention to the gun strapped to his thigh. ]
Guess I should take what I can get for free and get going, then. Not sure I could afford your charges.
[ Brown eyes dart down to the gun holster, then back up to the man’s face. When paired with the answer he receives, Stiles decides to take the exaggerated shrug as a warning. He’s been involved in too many altercations with temporary Mirrorbound already; his curiosity and greed aren’t worth getting tangled up in this guy’s business. Mimicking the shrug, he continues walking. ]
Suit yourself, big guy.
[ If he gets shot, Stiles is going to come back from the dead just so he can smash every stupid fucking mirror in this city. ]
... head right after Stiles, falling in line just behind and to the side of him. His gaze turns skyward, admiring the clear ceiling of stars largely unobscured by light or smoke. When was the last time he got such a good view? ]
So, how's the city treating you? [ Asked as if this is a completely normal chain of events here. ]
[ Booted footfalls sound behind him. Struggling not to turn around and balk at the other man, Stiles finds himself thinking, Why does it feel like I’m in a Looney Tunes episode, getting harassed by GI Bugs Bunny? Suddenly, he appreciates Daffy Duck so much more. ]
It’s comfortable for a prison, [ he admits, trying to subtly slow down in order to keep Jake in his periphery. ] Easy to stick your head in the sand and pretend things are fine, I guess.
[ Not that this person seems particularly interested in that kind of lifestyle, judging by the almost comical noise of jewelry clinking under layers of clothing. ]
…Are you really going to walk into a bar like that?
You from Earth? I'd say we all have plenty of practice at pretending explosions are fireworks, if you know what I mean, but maybe that's the universal human experience. Can't claim to have polled enough of the alien freaks yet to say for sure.
[ Stiles adjusts his gait and Jake notices it with a quirk of his lips, not about to pretend that he isn't used to copious amounts of side-eye. ]
Anyway, like what? Rich? Shouldn't matter too much unless you had a change of heart and you're leading me to one.
[ The label “alien freaks” earns the man a hard, judgmental look from Stiles, which, in and of itself, is more than hypocritical considering that he entertained similar unflattering sentiments when he first arrived in Aefenglom. Most people would probably let the remark go unchallenged. Stiles Stilinski is not most people. ]
Uh, hello? In case you were too busy looting to notice – like this is some battle royale video game and you were airdropped on that building’s roof, just painting a picture for you, I'm a helper – we’re the alien freaks here.
[ What a Boomer. ]
The only place I’m leading you to is the local chapel so you can reflect on your sins. Like expecting me to take you to a bar for free. God, the nerve of some people.
[ It’s largely said in jest. Largely, but not totally. Grease his palms, dude. ]
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an unusual arrival
Dude, you’re the kind of guy diamonds are cut on, [ he remarks bluntly, eyeing the musculature visible even through the overstuffed jacket, ] not the kind of guy who sells them.
[ A pause. ]
…I charge a referral fee, just a FYI.
[ Sorry, dad. Hanging out with Jonas has turned him even more into a petty criminal than he already was. ]
no subject
[ Jake "Diamond-Cutter" Muller. It has a good ring to it, honestly. Shoulders lift in a drawn out shrug, gloved palms pointing skyward in a move that may or may not be intentionally coordinated to draw more attention to the gun strapped to his thigh. ]
Guess I should take what I can get for free and get going, then. Not sure I could afford your charges.
no subject
Suit yourself, big guy.
[ If he gets shot, Stiles is going to come back from the dead just so he can smash every stupid fucking mirror in this city. ]
no subject
[ And with that, he turns to...
... head right after Stiles, falling in line just behind and to the side of him. His gaze turns skyward, admiring the clear ceiling of stars largely unobscured by light or smoke. When was the last time he got such a good view? ]
So, how's the city treating you? [ Asked as if this is a completely normal chain of events here. ]
no subject
It’s comfortable for a prison, [ he admits, trying to subtly slow down in order to keep Jake in his periphery. ] Easy to stick your head in the sand and pretend things are fine, I guess.
[ Not that this person seems particularly interested in that kind of lifestyle, judging by the almost comical noise of jewelry clinking under layers of clothing. ]
…Are you really going to walk into a bar like that?
no subject
[ Stiles adjusts his gait and Jake notices it with a quirk of his lips, not about to pretend that he isn't used to copious amounts of side-eye. ]
Anyway, like what? Rich? Shouldn't matter too much unless you had a change of heart and you're leading me to one.
no subject
Uh, hello? In case you were too busy looting to notice – like this is some battle royale video game and you were airdropped on that building’s roof, just painting a picture for you, I'm a helper – we’re the alien freaks here.
[ What a Boomer. ]
The only place I’m leading you to is the local chapel so you can reflect on your sins. Like expecting me to take you to a bar for free. God, the nerve of some people.
[ It’s largely said in jest. Largely, but not totally. Grease his palms, dude. ]