stykera: (bad day)
In which Stark marries a couple, gets slapped for his troubles, and somehow almost everyone escapes alive. Almost everyone. )

[I know. 3 in a row is a lot but I'm done for the night, I promise. 1 more tomorrow and that's it for PK Wars and all of Stark's canon appearances. Really. No more spamming from me. And really, since when do I ever post this much? Who am I and what did I do with me?]
stykera: (Default)
While the others had searched for Stark, and found him, Sikozu had managed to make a transport pod watertight so they might all get to the surface. They landed on the surface, and D'Argo, Stark, Crichton, Aeryn, Sikozu, Scorpius, Chiana, Rygel, and Jothee headed for the Eidelon's city. Aerial combatants flew over head, firing, and Stark stopped, a pained expression on his face.


In which a few survivors are found and someone thinks the middle of a firefight will be a good time to be born. )

[Almost there, really. Next installment to follow shortly. I guess all I needed was a plot to send Stark back to the island for to finally finish dragging through the end of canon.]
stykera: (kick the stark!)
Time passed on Moya. A few solar days at most while they traveled back to the water planet. Stark was still distraught, not paying attention to the passage of time or to anything else. He didn't notice the comings and goings of anyone else on Moya. He wandered the corridors occasionally, ignoring his comms and the DRDs and most attempts at interaction and the reports of developments in the war between the Scarrans and the Peacekeepers. The war that might have been averted already if only he had better prepared Yondalao or if only he were able to do what it was everyone wanted him to do and deliver Yondalao's spiritual remains to the other Eidelons. "I'm not worthy. I'm not worthy. I'm not worthy. Can't do that, can't do that. I can't do it." Repetitions along those lines were all he said when he bothered to speak at all. Sometimes, even when he did speak, he was barely understandable. The others weren't sure if he was talking to himself or a voice in his head. It amounted to much the same thing as far as they were concerned, and Stark babbling was at least somewhat normal, even if the rest of his behavior wasn't.

He would have spoken to the others if he could have. He wanted to. If he were able to, he would have told them everything. He would have tried to explain what was going inside his head. He would have tried to tell them all that what was left of Yondalao was nearly unbearable to be carrying around inside of himself but that he was trying. And yes, he was occasionally carrying on conversations with the voices in his head but if they had half as many pieces of others inside of them as he did his shipmates would do the same thing. Some of the voices were helpful. Others, particularly those acquired when he had lived among Scarrans and Peacekeepers, were not. And some of them were just loud and distracting. And one, the one voice he wanted most of all, was nearly silent and that only made matters worse. If Zhaan were here, even just in his head, it would be easier. He knew that. If Zhaan were here the others would never have forced him into this situation in the first place. She wouldn't have allowed it. He knew that, too. Of course, the others knew nothing of all of this. All they knew was that something was wrong. Even if he had tried to explain, they wouldn't have understood. None of them were Stykera. None of them had had the the remains of a spiritual leader, and with them one of the last hopes for peace in this end of the galaxy, forced into their heads.

"I don't know how," was his last quietly desperate statement before he stopped speaking entirely.

[Poor wee Banik. We're almost at the end though. Hopefully.]
stykera: (bad day)
A long delayed continuation. During which things get even worse, because this is Farscape. )

[I don't even know why this is taking such a ridiculous amount of time for me. Also, I hate that they did that to Stark in PK Wars. It was just CRUEL. Dialogue and such taken from a transcript of hour 2 of PK Wars. Stark's internal babble, all me. Will the next installment take two months? I HOPE NOT. Someone just poke me with a stick or something, will you?]
stykera: (thumb)
The others noticed Stark's absence eventually and commed him, notes of concern in their voices. He assured them he was fine and that he was being careful to not be anywhere he might easily be spirited away and placed in another box or cell and that he would be back soon, sooner if they needed him. He didn't think they would need him, but you never knew. Then he hung up, promising to contact them again within the next few solar days to assure them of his continuing ability to remain un-captive.

A little while later, bored with staring at the maps he'd purchased on the commerce planet earlier, he turned his attention back to the comms. He'd continued his fiddling with the comms, hoping to improve on the adjustments he'd made that had allowed him to call his friends from the island before. It had worked once, he reasoned as he tried to make his own calls, why not again?



[For my own nefarious purposes time's going more slowly out there in spaaaaaaaaace, because I don't feel like PK War-ing it up yet but don't want to drag out the timeline too much. Also, want a phone call from an emo alien? Have at it! He would loooove to talk to you.]
stykera: (glowing)
Two cycles ago, a very lost Banik had arrived on this island, though he still wasn't sure how, and gone to school. School was over now. The Banik was still just as lost, but he'd found a home for a while. But now it was time to leave. He'd dragged this out enough.

He'd taken a long and roundabout way to the causeway from the school. One last look at everything. His final stop was an abandoned shop in town. He had stood outside it for a long time, saying a goodbye he hadn't had the chance to say in person. It wasn't enough, it would never be enough, but it would have to do. He'd offered up one final quiet prayer, then headed to the causeway.

He had his bags. He had his cupcakes from Anders in one hand and his bracelets from Tori still on his wrist. And now he was at the end of the causeway and it was time to go. Setting down a bag for a moment, he reached up to unbuckle and remove his mask. Anyone (or any squirrels) watching would have seen the missing half of his face glowing as he took the last step away from Fandom.

**

And then, somewhere else, somewhere that wasn't home but might have been once, and some time later, there was a very lost Banik with 23 cupcakes and some tattered bags. He wasn't sure how he'd gotten back here, but he was glad that this, at least, had worked. And now there was only the very small matter of figuring out where "here" was and where any of the people he was looking for were. Minor details, comparatively.

Settling his mask back into position and buckling it, Stark set out in search of what he was looking for. Hopefully he'd find out what that was before he found it.


[Establishy. Emo alien is officially off the island and back in SPAAAACE. *sniffles lots* He's a glowy plot device. Go with it! Goodbyes still available over here.]

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Stark

March 2012

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