theimpala

WHO: Stiles (stilinski) & YOU!
WHAT: thread samples for checkingin
WHERE: anywhere, either in game or canon
WHEN: anywhen
WARNINGS: will be updated if necessary

1: The Hotel

Stiles is starting to panic. He knows the signs well enough to dread the attack that is threatening to hit him at any second: the rapid heartbeat, the tightness in his chest, the dizziness that worsens as the shivering throws him off-balance. He's been here before—not here, but situations like it. A place he's never been before, though the atmosphere is familiar. Maybe if he could focus his vision, the movement in the shadows would fade into his imagination. He lifts a hand, intent on counting fingers, but his vision is too blurred.

Stumbling down the hall, he picks up speed as his panic blossoms into fear. "Scott?" he calls, desperate for his friend, any friend, anyone. "Lydia?"


2: Beacon Hills

He shouldn't be surprised. Really, it was bound to happen. They've faced kanimas and were-jaguars and wendigos and berserkers and assassins without mouths. Scariest of all, they've faced teenaged hormones. This day was going to come sooner or later, but he really had been hoping that it would be later.

"Vampires," he mutters under his breath, fingers tightening around the machete in his hands. He'd gotten separated from the others, of course, because what else is his life other than a tragic comedy? A branch snaps in the distance to his left and he whirls around, really hoping it's one of his friends coming to join him and not a bloodsucker.


3: Choose your own adventure!
[Hit me with a starter in game or in canon!]

Voice testing for a new muse! The entry is going to be focused towards Amat-based tagging; if you're at Amat or familiar with it, please tag in the game canon (since that's where I'm aiming on taking Stiles). If you want something more general, either start off with a different setting in your tag or leave me a blank comment and I'll figure something out!

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[Stiles is... confused. More than confused. He's slightly hysterical and more than a little terrified. He was the normal one, the guy that stayed home googling crap while werewolves and hunters ran around in the forest. He'd turned down Peter's offer for a reason (okay, mostly because he was chicken-shit, but also because he sorta liked being normal when he saw how everything else ruined people's lives). But here he was. On an island. Ruled by a sex-crazed goddess. Wearing a freaking bondage collar. Somebody had the wrong idea about him. Like, for example, the fact that he wasn't still a virgin.]

So, uh, not that I'm not flattered or whatever but. Well. There's been a huuuuge mistake. Big. Major. Not to insult whoever it is running things, because I'm the smart one and that'd just be dumb, but you've got the wrong guy. This sounds like a job for, you know, emotionally mature, mentally stable, consenting adults.

[He tugs as the wide strip of leather nervously, the collar still having the new-leather itch to it. Not that he had experience with leather collars. But it was damn annoying.]

So, uh, send me back? Please, or whatever? There's some epic crap going on and Scott's gonna end up dead without me around to save his ass.

[Making to turn off the device, he misses slightly due to his nerves (and his totally sweaty palms, because thinking about sex so much in such a short amount of time was a record even for him) and leaves it recording on the bed. He paces around slightly, slipping once when he makes too tight a turn, before catching sight of himself in the mirror and creeping up on it. Slumped over slightly at first, he slowly straightens and starts turning from side to side, puffing out his chest and giving himself an appraising smile.]

Damn I'm gonna look good in two years.