Stiles Stilinski (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hypercompetent) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2013-12-14 10:00 pm
hypercompetent) wrote in entrancelogs2013-12-14 10:00 pm
"and i'm--losing my freaking mind."
who; stiles stilinski (of the FUTURE!!) and you!
when; december 15th--the end of the event
where; anywhere in the mansion
rating; probably r
summary; crazycakes stilinski returns from the not so distant future, not so pleasant side effects included.
[ It's hard to tell the difference between waking and sleeping nowadays.
It's been a year since the core mission. A year. Stiles Stilinski was one of the main planners behind it--it was his baby, fostered in dark rooms around Wonderland, just trying to keep away from the Jabberwocky long enough to fling it into the Core and be done with it for good. He'd had a lot of hope for what could have happened when it was over--as bleak and as miserable as things had been, he could only imagine that Wonderland might be able to fix itself as time passed without the Jabberwocky there to render it apart.
And in what seemed like just seconds, anything he was holding onto--any hope, any optimism, the plan, his friends, Castiel--Meg--Allison--Derek, they were dead, and he didn't even have threads to hold onto them by, no hopes that they'd come back. He stopped functioning, like it was when his mom died, and when the Jabberwocky attacked the section of the mansion where he'd been staying, that had held his and Derek's stuff, he'd practically let it rip him into pieces.
By the time he came back, something wasn't right. There was this need, this deep ache in the bottom of his bones to find the Queen of Hearts, who'd been missing for so long, but it's hard to focus on that, hard to focus on anything, because everywhere he turns, there are ghosts of people he loved. Words melt off pages, panic seizes around his chest and clutches and he sees visions, screaming, blood, Derek, his dad, his mom, hands reaching into the darkness, grabbing at the vestiges of his sanity and eating them whole, until he's left quivering in the dark, screaming for people who aren't real, against forces that are trying to render him limb from limb, things he can't see.
There's no sleeping. Horrific nightmares catch him when he closes his eyes. His hands move on their own, scrawling on the mirrors, the walls, anything he can get his hands on wake up, wake up, wake up wake up--
And it's in one of those dazes that he does.
When Stiles' eyes open, he's staring at Wonderland--rather, the Wonderland of the past. It's...cheery in here, there are Christmas decorations, and confusion and horror flicker across his exhausted face as he looks across the hallway before he hears it again ("Look what it could have been without you, look what you did, look what you always do"--) and his hands clutch up to his ears, knotting fiercely in his dark brown hair, until he slams into the wall beside him in the main hallway and lets out a strangled scream. It can't last, it has to end eventually, he's going to just--he has to just wake up-- ]
{this is a catchall log! ie: if you don't want to respond to this prompt you don't have to! on the 15th it will be difficult to get stiles away from derek. on the 17th through the 19th, it'll be a little easier. His sanity will slip between the three days, more lucid on the 17th and less on the 19th. By the 20th, he'll have holed up in his room, uninterested in anything and anyone. 21st-23rd on the other hand will be mostly spent with pack or people from the future, and he can easily be pulled away during these three days, with a fairly decent level of lucidity. The 24th is his and Derek's day alone. }
when; december 15th--the end of the event
where; anywhere in the mansion
rating; probably r
summary; crazycakes stilinski returns from the not so distant future, not so pleasant side effects included.
[ It's hard to tell the difference between waking and sleeping nowadays.
It's been a year since the core mission. A year. Stiles Stilinski was one of the main planners behind it--it was his baby, fostered in dark rooms around Wonderland, just trying to keep away from the Jabberwocky long enough to fling it into the Core and be done with it for good. He'd had a lot of hope for what could have happened when it was over--as bleak and as miserable as things had been, he could only imagine that Wonderland might be able to fix itself as time passed without the Jabberwocky there to render it apart.
And in what seemed like just seconds, anything he was holding onto--any hope, any optimism, the plan, his friends, Castiel--Meg--Allison--Derek, they were dead, and he didn't even have threads to hold onto them by, no hopes that they'd come back. He stopped functioning, like it was when his mom died, and when the Jabberwocky attacked the section of the mansion where he'd been staying, that had held his and Derek's stuff, he'd practically let it rip him into pieces.
By the time he came back, something wasn't right. There was this need, this deep ache in the bottom of his bones to find the Queen of Hearts, who'd been missing for so long, but it's hard to focus on that, hard to focus on anything, because everywhere he turns, there are ghosts of people he loved. Words melt off pages, panic seizes around his chest and clutches and he sees visions, screaming, blood, Derek, his dad, his mom, hands reaching into the darkness, grabbing at the vestiges of his sanity and eating them whole, until he's left quivering in the dark, screaming for people who aren't real, against forces that are trying to render him limb from limb, things he can't see.
There's no sleeping. Horrific nightmares catch him when he closes his eyes. His hands move on their own, scrawling on the mirrors, the walls, anything he can get his hands on wake up, wake up, wake up wake up--
And it's in one of those dazes that he does.
When Stiles' eyes open, he's staring at Wonderland--rather, the Wonderland of the past. It's...cheery in here, there are Christmas decorations, and confusion and horror flicker across his exhausted face as he looks across the hallway before he hears it again ("Look what it could have been without you, look what you did, look what you always do"--) and his hands clutch up to his ears, knotting fiercely in his dark brown hair, until he slams into the wall beside him in the main hallway and lets out a strangled scream. It can't last, it has to end eventually, he's going to just--he has to just wake up-- ]
{this is a catchall log! ie: if you don't want to respond to this prompt you don't have to! on the 15th it will be difficult to get stiles away from derek. on the 17th through the 19th, it'll be a little easier. His sanity will slip between the three days, more lucid on the 17th and less on the 19th. By the 20th, he'll have holed up in his room, uninterested in anything and anyone. 21st-23rd on the other hand will be mostly spent with pack or people from the future, and he can easily be pulled away during these three days, with a fairly decent level of lucidity. The 24th is his and Derek's day alone. }
♥♥♥
[That much was probably obvious, but stating the obvious was something of a specialty, something he often did for effect without even trying. His senses are sharp enough to catch the sudden shift in Stiles' stance, the tensing of muscles, the suppressed urge to turn away and bolt.
Angel could only guess that the future had not been kind to him.]
I've heard some about what happens. We need to prepare. I'd like details. Try to figure out what can be done now to lay groundwork for what's to come. Maybe even stop it altogether.
sprinkles backtags on
He takes in a slow, steadying breath, crossing his arms across his chest--but it's more of a hold than anything else, like he's anchoring himself in the present. ] It...
[ The first word comes out and then, the dam breaks. ] It was my idea--I caused it, the jabberwocky came and the Duchess disappeared with the sword so anytime we attacked it it just. Consumed everything. It ate swords and got sharper teeth. I thought--everything was falling apart, the mirrors were on our side and I thought if we threw it into the core of the mansion, it would die and we'd be done with it, forever, but no, it--it never made it that far.
[ Stiles swallows thickly and shakes his head furiously, like he's trying to shake the memory. ] The sword. You have to have the sword it's the only way--it's the only way to kill it.
Re: sprinkles backtags on
[It's a question, even if it doesn't quite come out like one. The way he's heard it, when this whole Jabberwocky mess started, they were able to kill it -- but never permanently.
If the Vorpal Sword would make all the difference, then there was no question about it. They had to find it, and they had to keep it safe. He could only assume that was the sword Stiles was talking about, but he'd heard the name enough to know. It had to be.]
If we use the Vorpal Sword, will it stay down? Will that kill it for good?
no subject
[ He can vaguely remember reading, researching, studying the Jabberwocky--it had been so useful when they first started, but his confidence had wavered since then, along with his mind. He looks at Angel and nods, hugging his hands around his biceps. ]
The shield--the shield would be good too, but the sword is what would kill it. It's the Duchess, I think she has it, even--in your time.
no subject
[In theory. Maybe not in execution. Still, if that sword is going to be their saving grace, then there's nothing to be done but to put all of their resources into getting their hands on it and keeping it in their possession.]
I'm sure I'm not the only one who's thinking they need to have a talk with the Duchess now that we know we need the sword. Not like she makes herself easy to find.
[But he's a detective. Sort of. He can help pull this off.]
The Jabberwocky ate the shield, the way I hear it. Maybe it would be better to leave it off the battlefield, just in case.
no subject
Nowadays, it's not so easy to just talk to people. He can't even really tell what's real anymore. ] I thought...maybe if you could go backwards on the network, here. Try to see if she'd come up or give some kind of hint, or something. We don't have a network anymore, so that's...those are resources we need.
[ Stiles nods to himself again, like he's confirming. He can't read right now, can't do anything without the words melting into pieces in front of his eyes, and it's up to anyone who can actually do that to help this--help them, help themselves and their futures. ] And...rations, and supplies, we need those, too. We can't kill the Jabberwocky no matter what if we're starving to death.
no subject
[He has no real love for that particular method of communication, but there's no denying it's useful -- and that having the ability to go back and comb through old messages for some sign of the Duchess would have been invaluable.]
Then we'll have to make the most of it now, while you're here to make use of it.
[He pauses, frowning.]
Sounds like there's not enough of anything. If we start storing things away now, there should be enough to last people a long while in the future.
no subject
[ Is he grateful? Not really. But it has been nice to eat real food again. That's one thing he can do without nightmares. Stiles fidgets a little, obviously kind of uncomfortable--this used to be his element. Now? Not so much. ] I don't know if that's going to--I mean, it's like a bad episode of Doctor Who, you know...? Back to the Future kind of things. Don't sneeze in the past or you'll change the future.
I don't know if we're even gonna be alive still when we get back. If we fix things here... [ Hopefully that makes some semblance of sense, but Stiles is starting to figure it out--if you provide them rations and find the vorpal sword in the present, then why should this future have any reason to exist? ]
no subject
[For the better -- there's no doubt about that -- but the implications haven't escaped him, either, and he at least has the sense not to say it out loud. Nobody needs to be reminded that they might not have an existence to go back to.]
So we take another path, the future branches off in a different direction. Given everything we've been told about what's to come... there's no other choice, is there?