voluntaryapnea: (sickly -- lipbite looking up worry)
[Video -- Open]

[Stiles has already packed up a bag, and it's sitting on his bed. There are clothes, food, his laptop and some various other small things including a couple of books inside, and atop the bag is his pillow. It doesn't show in the video when he turns on the communicator. All you can see is that he's sitting at his desk.]

Like Anya said, no one goes after him. You wanna talk about it, you can come and take it up with me.

[And that's all he's saying, because he had to say something. He knows there's a possibility that someone -- or multiple someones -- may take him up on that. He'll deal with it if they do. He disconnects the feed. He doesn't send a message to the rest of his friends. Doesn't really feel like talking about it. He picks up his bag, his pillow, his bat -- because it's his warden's item -- and he drops the note he wrote on his bed.

Staying down in Zero. Stiles. The others will find it. The pack. They all have access to his room, their own keys.

He leaves the room, locking the door behind him.]


[Spam for Dean]

[There's a resigned feeling that's settled into his chest. He's terrible at being a warden. Probably since the beginning. No. Definitely sense the beginning. He is not his dad. He doesn't have his dad's tolerance and fairness and he doesn't have what it takes to do this kind of job, and he wonders why the admiral ever offered him a deal at all. He had to know Stiles would be shitty at it, right?

Regardless of how he feels about it, how he feels about himself, his duty is to Dean and he takes it seriously despite everything else. Right now everything else has to take a backseat to that. He makes his way down to Zero with his things in hand and looks around, taking note of the cell that's been decimated, bars cut away since Dean had locked himself in with Anya. He lets out a breath, purses his lips and slowly heads down the corridor until he stops in front of Dean's cell. He drops his bag and sets down the baseball bat.

Dean doesn't look that bad. Iris took care of that part. There's not much Stiles could have done because he's not a doctor and he doesn't do well with blood and injuries. His nose is bruised, and Dean doesn't even look up at him. For a long moment he just stares at him silently.]


Hey.
voluntaryapnea: easystreet (holding breath)
[Open Action Spam]

[After leaving Scott's room, Stiles makes his way toward the stairs. He's relieved as hell that Scott is awake again, that he seems to be fine. Just as nearly everyone had told him. But now he has other people he needs to check on. Lydia, Dean, Kira, Liam, Allison, Isaac, Bucky, Steve, Jean. His people. They're growing in numbers, expanding a little bit at a time. For a guy who'd once thought himself virtually incapable of caring about anyone besides his dad, Scott, and Lydia, he's come a long way.

He heads for Dean's room first, mostly because they'd been in the midst of a battle with a horrifyingly large kaiju before getting pulled back to the Barge, and he wants to make sure his inmate is okay. He still feels a little disoriented by all of it. More so than most of these kinds of events tend to leave him.

He can be found heading toward any of their rooms, also at the cafeteria to grab something to eat, and then heading back to his own room on the seventh floor.]


[Private to Scott]

[He's slept a bit since he saw Scott earlier, but he still looks a little tired. He also looks a little nervous.]

I have a question.

[Spam for Lydia]

[Everything is already set up in the enclosure, ready to go. Now he just has to get her to go with him. He's chewing his thumbnail as he heads toward her room, and knocks lightly on the door. It's late but not super late. Not late enough that he's worried she'll be asleep. He stands and waits, heart beating quickly in his chest.]

20.

Dec. 8th, 2014 10:50 am
voluntaryapnea: (sickly -- lipbite looking up worry)
[A short while after his conversation with Bucky, Stiles takes stock of all the coats, hats, gloves and scarves that are all over his floor thanks to The Admiral. It takes him an hour and a half to sort everything by size, then color, draping some of the piles on his bed, some on his desk, and some that have no other place to go but the floor. There's not much of a walkway, but it's big enough that kids can come in and get what they need.

After that's done, he drops down in his desk chair and turns on the camera, arching his eyebrows.]


[Public Video]

I've got coats, gloves, scarves and hats for everyone under sixteen that's found themselves wanting to play on the deck in the snow and doesn't have them. I'm in 712 if you need something.

19.

Nov. 3rd, 2014 06:57 pm
voluntaryapnea: (tired side glance)
[Audio -- Open]

[The comm clicks onto audio and there's a moment of silence before a familiar voice -- albeit more tired than usual -- makes an announcement that it's clear he'd rather not be making. Because he'd rather not be making it.]

Dean's in a coma.

[He pauses, rubs a hand over his eyes tiredly as he looks down at his inmate, unconscious in bed and purses his lips.]

I'll let everyone know when he's awake again unless he does it first.

[He shuts the comm back off and sinks into a chair beside Dean's bed, closing his eyes.]

[Spam -- Open]

[He's exhausted. His body aches. He wants to crawl into bed and sleep for the next week. He won't, of course, because he has things to do. People to check on. But he's in dire need of his Adderall because he's been without it for a month. On the list of things that he'd needed, that they'd all needed on the other barge, Adderall hadn't even made the list. His mind is racing with thoughts and he can't seem to be able to focus on any one thought for another.

He's back on the regular barge, and he needs to find Scott and make sure he's okay. He needs to find Lydia and make sure she's been okay. Allison, Kira, Isaac, Erica, Needy, Bucky, Steve. Hell, even Jackson. He needs to check on all of them and see for himself they're all right. Rest isn't going to happen until he's made the rounds.

But medication first. He makes his way down the steps toward the seventh floor and his room. He can be encountered in any of the stairwells, or the seventh floor corridor.]


[Spam -- Closed to Lydia]

[He slips his key into the door and unlocks it, pushes it open even as he rubs the back of his neck. He freezes instantly, gaze locking on Lydia's form as she sits on the edge of his bed. He lets out a shaky breath and closes the door behind him, letting his hands drop to his sides.]

Hi.
voluntaryapnea: (evil -- glaring)
[Open Zero Spam]

[Stiles sits with his back to the wall in a cell in Zero, scowl etched onto his features. He can hear Jackson's heart beating from across the hall and he wishes he'd ripped it out of his chest so at least he'd have some peace and quiet while he's stuck down here. Being alone would be better than being stuck in the same vicinity as Jackson Whittemore.

He shuts his eyes and covers his ears with his hands, forcing himself to take slow, deep breaths. He doesn't know exactly how containment down here works, but he knows that short of someone letting him out, he's trapped for now.

It's fine. He'll deal. He always does. He's not thrilled about it, because there are things he could be doing if he wasn't locked in a freaking jail cell.

He opens his eyes again when he hears the distant echo of footsteps approaching -- but whether they're approaching his cell or Jackson's, or if someone else is being locked up -- that he's not sure about yet.

So he stares at the bars ahead, eyes dark and narrow. Waiting.]


[Public Voice Post]

[He's never done well with boredom. After several hours of sitting in relative silence, he picks up his comm. The boredom is as evident in his tone as the sarcastic taunting.]

I have to say that if this is the worst you people can do for punishment, I'm severely disappointed. No wonder our barge graduates more people than yours. You don't even have an ounce of creativity.
voluntaryapnea: (evil -- sitting and plotting)
[Open Spam]

[He's always liked the woods. Practically grew up in them back in Beacon Hills with Scott. Years spent climbing trees and camping, other times spent fishing with his parents before his mom got sick and died, before his dad developed a bit of an alcohol problem and became a workaholic. The woods don't bother Stiles. Neither does only having two days worth of supplies. He no longer needs Adderall, so the lack of the drug in his system means he actually has a healthy appetite. That's the other great part about being a werewolf -- it means he can hunt his food when it runs out. And he knows from experience that the woods are full of perfectly edible creatures he can catch easily. If there's a pond or a river, he can fish.

He'll get by.

It's Lydia that he's currently worried about. He knows the rest of the pack hates her, that they won't lift a finger to help her even if she gets hungry. She hates them just as much. But with everyone being split up, it means that Scott will have a better chance at killing her -- again, or that someone else will try. He needs to find her first.

He straps the backpack to his back and sets off. The familiar sounds of nature are all around him, louder than he's used to. He keeps his comm in his jeans pocket in case Scott or Lydia try and reach him that way. For now he's content to use his enhanced senses to seek out the one he's looking for.]


Ooc: Stiles is affected by the event -- he's much more twisted and dangerous than the Stiles from the regular barge. Feel free to run into him over any of the days from the event!]
voluntaryapnea: (tired side glance)
[Video -- Public]

[The video feed opens to reveal the deck of the ship. A second later you can see Stiles leaning against the railing, a troubled expression on his face. He's pretty sure he already has the answer to the question he's about to pose, but he wants to be sure. He glances over his shoulder, up at the sky.]

Okay so is it just me, or are the stars...a lot less bright than usual? [He shifts so that he's holding the comm up so everyone can see what he's talking about.]

Is this another Mirror Barge sign?

[Spam for Kira -- Pub]

[He makes it to the Pub in less than the ten minutes that he agreed to meet Kira. It's closed, but he uses his warden's item and lets himself in. He's already perusing the alcohol choices when he hears her footsteps approaching and his head pops up from behind the bar. He gives her a small smile before ducking down again.]

So what's your poison, my friend?

[Spam for Scott]

[It's much later now. So late he doesn't actually even know what time it is. He's not entirely sure where he's even going until he finds himself in front of Scott's closed door. Oh. Apparently that's where. He has a half-drunk bottle of Jack in his left hand and his vision is just a bit bleary. He already has a headache, and realistically he knows he should just go to his own cabin, down some aspirin, drink some water, and crawl into bed for the next twelve or so hours. But he doesn't feel like being alone tonight.

Kira was great company, but they parted ways awhile ago and he's been wandering the corridors since. He briefly contemplate just going up to the deck again. Laying beneath the stars and staring up, but the way they've gotten dimmer freaks him out when he's completely sober, let alone when he's drunk. And the rational part of his brain that's still functioning tells him that he shouldn't be out and about when there are at least two people on the Barge who would probably like to see him dead.

Still. Where once he wouldn't have hesitated to just barge in on his best friend, he knows Scott's dealing with a lot already and a drunken Stiles probably isn't something he should have to deal with. He sighs and pushes himself away from the door, stumbling a little and rubbing a hand over his face as he heads back toward the stairs.]
voluntaryapnea: (head resting on hand worry lost despair)
Backdated: Content warning for arson/things related to vampires. )

[Video -- Public]

[The video feed clicks on and it shows Stiles in the pub. There's a blender beside him that's full of ice, and several bottles of various syrups around. He's holding a container of sugar and eying the blender before he begins pouring it atop the ice.]

So, someone wondered about Slurpees on the Barge. I think this is everything it takes to make one. [Maybe. Possibly. Mostly he's just experimenting right now.] So if anyone would like to be a taste tester, come up to the Pub. [You know. If you're feeling brave. Or if you want to bounce off the walls. He's still pouring in the sugar and now half the container is in the blender.]
voluntaryapnea: (alone in the dark)
[Spam for Jack Shephard and Debra Morgan]

[It isn't the first time that Stiles wakes up without knowing where he is. And it's no less terrifying than it always is. The last time he woke up somewhere with no knowledge how he'd gotten there, it had been to Rafael and Melissa McCall pulling him out of a coyote den as he screamed himself back to consciousness. The ground and air even feel similar to the way Malia's den felt, and he forces himself to take a shaky breath. He reminds himself that this isn't really unexpected. The Barge crashed. They're in port, apparently. Unfortunately, he wasn't with Scott or Lydia either one before the boat had shuddered.

But he can hear breathing close by and wow, that's also familiar and creepy. He swallows hard, rubbing a hand over his face and feeling around on the cool ground for his pack, relieved when he feels it. He manages to dig his comm out first and he immediately starts digging around for his flashlight next, trying to ignore the way his hands are shaking. He remembers being in the basement of Eichen House, or what he thought was the basement of Eichen House at the time, anyway. Really, he'd been fighting subconsciously for control over his own mind with the nogitsune.

Everyone has it, but no one can lose it. What is it? It's just a whisper against his mind, a terrifying reminder, and he shuts his eyes quickly, feeling nauseous. He hears the breathing again and he tries to tell himself that he is not back home, that he is not possessed, that the nogitsune is dead, and he needs to pull himself together and get ready to face whatever this new situation is about to bring him. His voice is shaky when he speaks.]


Hello? Who's there?

[Public -- Voice]

[After locating his flashlight and turning it on, after he's talked to Bucky briefly, he makes quick of trying to contact his other friends. Unfortunately it's not working any better now than it was when he was trying to talk to Bucky. It's thick with static.]

...tt? Lydia? [bzzzzzzzzzzzzt] -- ear me?

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voluntaryapnea: easystreet (Default)
Stiles Stilinski

September 2015

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