Stiles Stilinski

Who: Stiles Stilinski, bad dreams and YOU.
Where: Stiles' mind and then...Scott's room, the kitchen, and Scott's room again.
When: Throughout the "Less Than Thou Showest" flood, January 25th - 29th.
What: Stiles' mind is a scary place. It gets scarier when the nightmares aren't even his.
Warnings: Blood, death, violence, attempted suicide, drowning.
Note: Open to anyone, planned or not!

He hasn't had nightmares like this in awhile. But now he can't seem to shut them off. It's not like it was once, where everytime he woke up he's screaming. But it's not pleasant, and it's not his idea of a good time, and by the time he convinces himself to leave Scott's comatized body and go to the kitchen for caffeine, he feels like a zombie.

He makes it back to Scott's cabin in record time, drinking down the hot beverage so fast that it burns his mouth and then his throat.

He mumbles some curses and waits impatiently for the beverage to cool down before taking another long drink. Frankly he wishes it was something stronger.

A lot stronger.

[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.]

[Well here we go. He is on a ship and he thinks for the briefest of moments about making a joke about calling it the Ship of Dreams because Lydia has made him watch Titanic a few too many times. But it sounds lame even to him, and he's still not feeling that great about...anything, really.

After a long moment of hesitation, he turns the camera on and gives a small smile that looks a bit more like a grimace than anything. His tone is light and friendly, even if his expression is tired, his skin a bit too pale, and there are bags under his eyes that indicate it's been awhile since he's had any decent sleep. He's still cold, still achy and nauseous, but he knows he's going to get better from that eventually. In theory.]

So I have to admit that the irony in this is kind of hilarious. I mean, my dad's a sheriff and I'm not even out of high school and here I am on a ship about to be a warden.

[He pauses. Warden definitely beats being possessed, so he's rolling with it. It's what he does.]

Can't say this is exactly how I figured things would turn out, buuuut. [He shrugs, looking down for a moment.] It sort of does beat the alternative, so I guess I'm happy to be here.

I'm Stiles Stilinski.