stiling | APPLICATION for KORE

[Player information]
Player Name: Mal
Age: 21
E-mail: deanpants [at] gmail.com
Other characters played at Cape Kore: N/A

[Character information]
Name: "Stiles" Stilinski
Canon: Teen Wolf
Canon Point: Post 2.12.
Age: 18

Appearance: Stiles is a scrawny 16-year-old boy, average height. He's got dark hair that he keeps cropped close, and bright hazel eyes. Stiles' usual wardrobe consists of the usual t-shirt (usually something smartass-y), jeans, and a hoodie or some such, maybe some plaid scattered in there.
Inventory: The clothes on his back, a vial of prescription Adderall.
Abilities: Stiles is mostly the brain of the operation. He's the brains over the brawn more often than not; his fighting skills are paltry, and he's over all a normal teenage boy with no abilities out of the ordinary.

History: Stiles @ the Teen Wolf wiki.

Personality: Meet Stiles. You might think you know what you're seeing. Here we have a happy go lucky boy who's never bothered by much of anything that crosses his path. Even with catastrophic events that might shuttle past his way (his mother's death, his best friend becoming a freaking werewolf), it seems like nothing can get Stiles down. Ostensibly, that is. Below the surface, he's not exactly a train wreck, but it's a lot rougher inside that mind than most people might give him credit for or, hell, even realize.

Stiles' brain is just a mess sometimes. He suffers from ADHD, and in this case it really is a suffering kind of thing. His speech kinda shows his thought patterns, just like his body language does, and both read the same thing: All over the place. He never really stops thinking, or even get a chance to. Stiles' mind is a twisted up little ball of wires that short circuit and reel from one thought to the next to the next. His mouth runs about a mile a minute to keep up with it, and so any kind of filter really isn't in his repertoire. Stiles says what's on his mind, bluntly, honestly, and often.

He's medicated for his disorder (admittedly sometimes maybe a little more than the legal dose he's meant to take), but Adderall only really can do so much to alleviate his symptoms.

So, yeah, Stiles is a little zany. He's a weird little nerd of a teenager who's always kind of been the Robin to everyone's Batman, but that doesn't stop him from being useful. As a consequence of the whole reeling brain problem, Stiles is also consequentially very smart. He's usually the man with the plan, the one to get people out of whatever situation (when they actually listen to him, that is, miracle upon miracles), and is the designated researcher of the group. He figured out Scott was a werewolf before Scott even knew he was a werewolf, he gets his straight A's (with the occasional B), he's got a lot of potential in that noggin with little to none of the motivation that should probably come with that. Stiles is a dude who would get a lot done and usually instead gets little to none of what he should. Oops.

But most of all, and most importantly, what you see with Stiles might not always be what you get, but it's what most people know and understand. He's a cheery kind of guy, he's the wisecrack with all the jokes and all the sarcasm that he can muster. He's a smartass to the core and his mouth gets him in trouble, but he's Stiles and he's always okay, the one who's always above everything. He puts everyone else's shit before his own, and he's really okay with that happening the most of the time. Stiles is Stiles and that's that.

[Samples]
First Person: Dear Mun post.

Third Person: There was a convict in his room. Okay. There was a convict in his room.

Well, no, that wasn't really right. On account of Derek not actually being, well, convicted of anything. On extra account of his not really doing anything at all before he was very abruptly and violently thrown under the bus as it were. Thaaaanks, Scott.

Kind of literally under the bus if he thought too much about the injuries and the blood, because, Jesus, that was a really lot of blood and -

Whatever. The point was, technical criminal, in his room, holding his books, sitting on his bed. Wearing his clothes? Stiles had to admit that this was bizarre, even by his standards. For a whole other reason that he wasn't so sure about yet. Derek was a whole other side of this whole other world that he could only begin to describe. He had no reason to trust this strange guy who'd lost everything, his friends, his family. Could have passed him over to his father the moment he showed up. Wouldn't have been difficult. Hell, it had been more difficult trying to lie to him - smoothly as that had gone (huggy huggy?) - and there was really no reason right now why he was sneaking him snacks and grabbing him a drink and -

He was getting away from himself again.

It hadn't been just a mere bathroom run, though he'd said it was. He's juggling a few things in his hands that he knew wouldn't go missing, not with a dad with way too many other things on his mind.

"Your protein." He jiggles a package of beef jerky, and then the poptarts; strawberry frosted. "And your fruit." He tosses both to Derek, and then a water bottle. "Three course meal, right?"

Anything Else? just a sweet, sweet love of curly fries.