stykera: (Default)
Saturday mornings were generally quiet affairs for Stark. Of course, most days were. Generally he liked it that way. He hadn't realized last night was Prom yet, and even if he had he probably wouldn't have made the connection between that event and the arrival of unexpected children. After all, he hadn't had any children show up on the island before. The only time that had ever happened had been on that trip to Disneyland.

So it was an entirely unsuspecting alien who was sitting on the floor watching television (the Food Network, naturally) on Saturday morning and wondering whether he should venture out for food or not. The question was about to be answered for him.

[For kidlets, but open should anyone want to stop by or call or whatever.]
stykera: (sad)
Stark had been unwilling, at first, to accept the fact that the ever-increasing list of disappearances might grow to include someone he cared about. That was what had kept him, so far, from trying to contact Moya. That, and the fact that regular contact was just not something Stark had ever excelled at.

But his concern had overcome any hesitation and he had taken his comms out and tried to call Moya. He held his breath, waiting, without even realizing it until he let out a sigh of relief when Pilot's voice finally came through.

The relief didn't last long )
stykera: (Default)
Stark wasn't sure where he was. Somewhere in space, as usual. It had been a long time since he'd stopped anywhere and even then he hadn't really been paying attention. He was still wandering rather aimlessly.

Although he didn't know where he was, the island had had no trouble delivering a message that there was an event coming up. A visit back to the closest thing to home besides Moya (and he wasn't ready to go back to Moya, not yet) would be welcome. The last visit had hurt, still hurt, would always hurt. How could it not? Losing Zhaan grew no easier the third time it happened. But the seemingly endless loneliness hurt as well and Stark was growing tired of the echoes of his own babbles inside the transport pod. And, of course, a cupcake would be a welcome change from the food cubes. At least the supply of those was finally growing measurably smaller.

Now he just needed to arrange transport back to the island.

[NFB of course (in spaaaaaaaaaace no squirrels can hear you scream?), but open for any phone calls or what have you]
stykera: (Default)
It was absurd, Stark had decided, that cupcakes were apparently unique to Earth. He hadn't given up hope that someday he might find them but given the sheer number of commerce (and other) planets he'd been on in his lifetime he didn't think it likely.

Perhaps he could start a cupcake business out here in the Uncharteds. Of course, he'd have to learn how to actually bake them first. Maybe Anders could help with that. And there was the lack of chocolate to contend with as well. Anders probably couldn't do much about that. The chocolate ones were, after all, the best ones. Perhaps the chocolate deficiency that the rest of the universe suffered from was the reason that there were no cupcakes to be found.

And perhaps Stark had been spending too much time alone eating his seemingly never-ending supply of food cubes and daydreaming of cupcakes.
stykera: (Default)
It was not a holiday in the UTs. Well, it probably was one somewhere, but Stark didn't know about it.

For him, it was just another solar day. A day full of food cubes and a quiet transport pod.

If it were the beginning of a new cycle for Stark he might have made a resolution to do something about the quiet transport pod and the endless repetitive solar days. He had friends out there in the universe and there was always the island to go back to, even if just for a visit.

Since it wasn't a holiday for Stark he wouldn't be making that resolution. He might, however, still make an effort to try and change things in his life. He couldn't wander around from commerce planet to commerce planet like this forever and he didn't want to.
stykera: (starkozu looks upward)
When he woke yesterday, Stark had let out a few half-hearted "frell!"s, then sighed and gone about his usual routine. Not that he had much of a routine at this point, but there was always upkeep to be done on the transport pod and consulting of maps and starcharts, and the ever-important missing of cupcakes while unenthusiastically nibbling on the seemingly endless supply of food cubes he'd mistakenly purchased on the last commerce planet he'd stopped at.

When he woke on the second solar day to find he was still a girl and had not returned to his usual shape while he slept the "oh, frell" was far more heartfelt than the previous day's. The flailing was far more pronounced as well.

"It always went away after just one day before," he growled to the empty transport pod. The only answer was a soft echo of his currently higher pitched voice, which was growing annoyingly familiar by now.

"It will go away again, won't it? I don't like this." He was rather attached to his proper shape and found being the wrong shape very distressing. Especially when things did not go back to normal when they were supposed to.

Perhaps he could at least share the misery. Or find out if this was happening to anyone else. Still happening to anyone else. Shaking his head (which had too much hair!), he turned his attention to the comms system.


[Open for calls with a mildly flaily alien, should anyone so desire.]
stykera: (soda pressed)
Stark had run out of food on his transport pod. This meant he had to stop somewhere and this commerce planet had been convenient. It also seemed to have a sizable Delvian population, which Stark had attempted to avoid during his visit. He hadn't been entirely successful.

He would have perfectly content, or at least as content as he ever was any more, to stay holed up in the transport pod and not speak to anyone or see anyone at all. His visit to Fandom, Zhaan's unexpected appearance there and all-too-expected disappearance had left him wishing for nothing more than solitude. Possibly forever. Unfortunately, his stomach had had other ideas and contact with others, including the inconveniently placed Delvians, had been unavoidable.

At least he had enough food to last him for quite some time now, he thought as he finished loading the last of his purchases. He wouldn't have to see or speak to anyone until this food ran out. That was weekens away, at the earliest.

At some point he would remember how much he hated being alone with just his own jumbled thoughts for company. Probably around the same time as he realized he'd bought a large crate of food cubes, rather than something actually edible, in his haste to get off the planet.

[Establishy unless you wanna call an emo alien. I will be heading to bed very shortly though, so it will be a very sloooow call.]
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: (kick the stark!)
Once aboard the Scarran ship, Stark and the others were led into a detention area and scanned for weapons. There were rather a lot of those amongst this group.

And then more unpleasantness )

[In just under the wire. Whee.]
stykera: (kick the stark!)
Having landed on Arnessk, Stark and the travelers from Moya headed in what they hoped was the direction of the Eidelon temple.

And one of them was molested by a crazed wild woman but that's not really important here. )

[Life sucks in the UTs, yes it does. Particularly for anyone who's ever spent time on Moya. Dialogue pulled from a PK Wars transcript. More unpleasantness to come, because Kemper and Rockne are crueler than I could ever be.]
stykera: (Default)
It had taken longer than Stark had anticipated to make it back to the water planet. And as soon as he'd landed he found himself in the middle of wedding preparations.

This is Farscape, that won't end well... )

[ooc: look, I started PK Wars again, Finally.To be continued. Probably sooner than 2 months from now. I hope. Unless life has further plans for kicking me in the teeth.]
stykera: (nervous)
It was time, Stark decided, to head back to his friends. Shipmates. Friends. He'd been away long enough. He'd met a daughter who was impossible and a son who was, if anything, even more so. He'd had enough Fandom Weirdness, in other words, to last for quite a while.

So he commed to the water planet and let them know he'd be back soon. It was good to hear their voices. And it would be good to see them all soon.

And as he often did, he reconnected his comms to the alumni network. A little more weirdness couldn't hurt, right? And another friendly voice was always a good thing.




[As usual, open for phone calls etc.]

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Stark

March 2012

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