APPLICATION for CONSIGNMENT
Apr. 25th, 2014 10:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
spasmodic
- SPOILERS for Teen Wolf season three within.
PLAYER INFO.
✖ Handle: Mal
✖ Contact:✖ Are You Over 16: Y
- AIM: cognitiverecalibration
- EMAIL: deanpants@gmail.com
- PLURK:
stagnation
✖ Other Characters Played in Consignment: N/A, also applying as Helena from Orphan Black.
CHARACTER INFO.
✖ Character Name: Stilinski, "Stiles"
✖ Canon: Teen Wolf - Post 3.24; "The Divine Move"
✖ Character Appearance:✖ Character Age: 17
✖ Pick A Number: 594 or 288
✖ Canon Setting:STILES: Be a man. Be a werewolf, not a teen wolf. Be a werewolf.In a land where Michael J. Fox is less relevant and basketball is actually pretty lame.
Beacon Hills, California isn't exactly your run of the mill west coast kind of town. Maybe that's because of all the money, arguments to be made about economic splits and other such probable technical terms. Maybe that's because it's home to some of the weirdest, unexplained murders in the whole state; even the FBI's scratching their heads. But, let's be honest, it's probably because of the poor water pressure. Or the werewolves, okay, fine. Go with option B, why don't you?!
It's a nice place to settle down if you don't mind all the weirdness (if you don't notice all the weirdness). Good hospital. Quality school. It's a less nice place to settle down if you happen to be hairier than the rest of the population (or scalier or... teethier). That's a good and a bad thing.
Beacon Hills is to supernatural activity what Gotham City is to crime, and that's not necessarily its own fault. It could probably be traced back to before the big fire, whisperings about the Hale house family and, y'know, weird, clandestine meetings in abandoned warehouses, but that was peace time. That was before Kate Argent and her merry band of hunter BFFs caused a belated topple into something else, one move after another. Peter burns alive. Peter goes crazy. Peter bites Scott. And Scott sets an awful lot of things into motion.
It's not just werewolves anymore, not after Stiles, Allison and Scott sacrificed themselves to try to stop a dark druid and transformed the place into a veritable poster boy for supernatural activity. Beacon Hills is now quite literally a beacon, inviting a whole world of creatures that they can begin to learn about but couldn't possibly know all about - kanimas, darachs, banshees, kitsunes, nogitsunes. Werecoyotes? No vampires yet, but most of everyone probably figures they can take their sparkly asses and stay the hell out of Dodge for the time being. They've got their hands full, the smattering of people who do know about the darker side of Beacon Hills - and at the rate things are going, that number is growing exponentially.
"Sidekick" isn't a word that Stiles would like to have attributed to him, but that's the category in which he pretty firmly falls for the most of the time. He's a human in a crazy world of crazy things, one where he's picking up on things fast, certainly, but not fast enough. He almost mimics the emissaries, old friends and mentors to the werewolves, helping Scott but also functioning as a member of his "pack" despite his lack of supernatural physiology. Whether it be planning, plotting, distracting, hell, he'll even pitch in on a fight -- he helps in any way, shape, or form that he can.
That is when he's not playing the villain.
✖ Character History: Stiles @ the Teen Wolf wiki
✖ Character Personality:STILES: I'm 147 pounds of pale skin and fragile bone. Sarcasm is my only defense.What a troubled boy we have on our hands. He's fresh off the good ship Meat Suit and, after having walked around with a goddamn fox spirit inside of him for way too long, he's still a little messed up after the whole demonic possession cha-cha. Sleeping's actually happening (unlike some two hour power naps every couple of days if he was lucky), sometimes, but it's hard to dismount from the damn horse. Leg still in the stirrups. Getting dragged around by a blind pony galloping itself beyond the -
Okay, enough metaphors. Here's what's real: Stiles has ADHD, and that's very important about him. It shows in almost every fiber of his being, from the way he runs to the way his hands move - emphatically - when he talks, it's just whole-heartedly ingrained into his nature. His movements are spastic to match the way he talks, long rambling bouts of sardonicism that sometimes get away from him so completely that he needs to be physically stopped from speaking. He's fast-paced, in a very flaily manner of speaking. (It's on more than one occasion that someone's commented on the excessive amount of Adderall in which he's partaken.) It's think, think, think, he's always thinking, he never stops thinking. But he kind of digs that about himself.
Confidence isn't so often a problem when you're Stiles, when it comes to this new werewolfy world that he's fitting himself so completely into. Talk about finding your passion in life. Stiles was practically bred for this whole aiding the werewolf thing, with how much he seems to glean about the lore, the creatures therein, anything and everything he can pick up that might help, oh, he doesn't know, more people from dying. He channels what used to go into laughably irrelevant essays about male circumcision into memorizing police codes. He knows what a bestiary is before the daughter of a werewolf hunter does. He finds out that Scott's become a werewolf before even Scott does. Hey, all of that thinking had to be channeled somewhere. He's a smart, smart kid with his head attached to his shoulders (most of the time) (some of the time) (at least ten percent of the time), straight A student (also most of the time), but that comes from being a cop's kid. There's always the whole behavioral issues thing, but, uh. Does that also come from being a cop's kid? Probably.
Like, has he threatened an alpha werewolf with a tree branch up his ass while under duress? ...Maybe.
The thing about all that kinetic energy is that it has to come out sometime, and it makes for a very impulsive kind of person. It's more than often that Stiles' plans don't account for any sort of consequences, especially long-term, and some of those consequences have been admittedly disastrous. He finds himself fully possessed by the nogitsune largely after a particularly dead-ended idea to lock himself in a mental institution. He gets his dad fired and a restraining order filed against him after he steals an official police van to kidnap someone. Both things he needed to do at the time, maybe, all with pretty obvious reactions that he probably should have seen. But then again he breaks a bat open on what is almost quite literally a transformer robot werewolf and lives to tell the tale, so at least he really does live up to that whole 'plucky' thing. "It's comforting to know you've planned this out with your usual attention to detail," Scott points out to him in the very first episode. "I know!" Stiles tells him cheerily.
Which is also very important. Scott is also very important.
People are crucial to Stiles, and Scott is his other half, the ying to his yang. He's like Stiles' brother in a strange situation that makes no sense to even some of the people involved (namely, Melissa McCall). Stiles climbs in the McCall windows in the dead of night. He has a key to their house. He's probably named the pillows. Stiles' father is his rock and he loves him very dearly, but the Stilinski family isn't really complete without Scott and an incredible woman who can only really be described as Stiles' stand-in mother. He was young when he lost his own and it was to frontotemporal dementia, a likely messy affair that Stiles is still holding onto some guilt about; he agonizes over his mother's death. It means Melissa so very rarely goes unappreciated.
He is just predominately shameless. He's unapologetic about who he is as a person, stubborn and hilariously blunt (again maybe calling back to that whole cop's kid thing; he really is his father's son), from the way he compliments his lifelong crushes to the way he insults magic creatures that could probably wring his scrawny little neck. He tends to live in the moment and fly by the seat of his pants, making for a very passionate kid who's trying his best despite a plethora of typical self-doubts and worries, some very revealing of his age. He's young, he's all over the place, he's packed with enough sarcasm to power a multi-million dollar budget Seth Rogen movie and his virginity is at least no longer woefully intact.
And what the hell do you have at the end of it all?
A Stiles.
✖ Character Powers:+ SOY UN PERDEDOR: Stiles generally plays the role of plucky human sidekick, and as such he has little to no combative abilities or otherwise to speak of. Decently clever, he's excellent at hashing out plans (whether or not they end up running particularly smoothly), and he's a veritable laugh riot when it comes to his wit. But noodley limbs make for not much more of a fighter than a good bat swing or two. It's okay. He's got the brains to make up for it. Also, Google.
+ UP ALL NIGHT TO GET LUCKY: professional masturbatory abilities also apply
CHARACTER SAMPLES.
✖ First Person POV: [ LINK ]
✖ Third Person POV:He still, to this day, doesn't know who planted this on his computer.
It's easy to get distracted these days. The string is all gone, his walls are scoured, he's sleeping again when he's not psyching himself out too much to catch a wink. His head's getting back to where it should be at but it's really not quite where he wants it yet which is a wholly formed source of frustration, and it's more often than not he finds his hands shaking, finds himself up at three in the morning pacing and thinking too much, that's all he can seem to do lately is think too much. When a mind-numbing drive around the block doesn't cut it for smoothing out the tangles, he figures he'll just veg until he can let loose some of these knots in his shoulders. In retrospect, maybe he should have given this thing more than a passing thought.
"How the hell did you get - " There's a new icon just there on his desktop, right on his computer, safely tucked away next to League of Legends and an abandoned Firefox application. He doesn't remember installing it. He doesn't remember even hearing of it before. But he's uncertain of a lot lately and it's not really indicative of much anymore, what he actually does remember, not if he's really honest about it. Those shouldn't be proper grounds for opening up this mystery program. Neither should '#YOLO'.
At worst case scenario, it's probably just a virus, maybe one last hurrah laid down by that creepazoid in his head - wouldn't that be lucky? Scans don't come up with anything, go figure, and he doesn't exactly know how up to par an ancient Japanese fox's freaking coding skills are, no, but he wouldn't put anything past anything and that's what restore points were created for. He hasn't even sat in the chair yet, looming over his desk with his hand on the mouse and his nose wrinkled at the screen. No point in panicking and bothering Scott with it if he's just being paranoid, he chastises himself on the off-chance that somehow something totally crappy could happen that wasn't related to the supernatural.
It's just a program.
And he's just so very curious.
"Screw it," he says as decisively as he opens the window and parks himself into the desk chair.
The CDC, from what he can gather by the rules (and there are rules, he's skimming them) are a program hellbent on destroying other planets, fate of your loved ones or some blah, blah blah, blah. "It's a - game?" he asks himself aloud, and the incredulity is apparent in his voice. It's just a video game, it's just a dumb space game that he must have downloaded some night when he couldn't sleep. He'd completely forgotten about it - "And now you've given yourself a heart attack for no reason," he tells the screen jovially, shaking his head as he starts to scroll past the terms of service, because who has time to read that? "Good on you, Stiles."
The button at the bottom of the screen glows bright white by the time the scrollbar runs through, and Stiles lets the indicator hover over two words: I ACCEPT.
He checks the clock. Checks the light starting to bleed in through his blinds. Checks the screen again. Bites his lip and shrugs a shoulder as he clicks. "Yeah. Why not? I've got time."
CHARACTER ITEMS.
✖ Pick a Team: Blue
✖ Mission Freebie: For his mother to come back to life, healthy and happy.
✖ Personal Item or Weapon: An aluminum baseball bat.
✖ Character Inventory:
✖ Other Notes: Oh, golly, I hope that sample is okay. So meta. Please let me know if you'd like a recruitment with an actual person!
