Room 203 [All Day]
Jun. 18th, 2007 05:07 pmIt had been dark when Stark left the clinic last night. It was always dark when he left the clinic, and most of the buildings in town were dark by that time as well. That didn’t stop him, many nights, from taking a longer route back to the school; a route that led him past a certain shop owned by a certain blue plant. It was dark tonight, that shop. Nothing out of the ordinary there. It was late, after all. But something had seemed wrong. It was too dark, too quiet, too something. But it was late and he was tired and his mind was not always reliable and surely he would have known if something were truly wrong, so he returned to the school and his room. He could check in the morning.
Standing outside in the early morning light, he had seen that something had indeed been wrong. Something was still wrong, very wrong, and he hadn’t even known. The shop was empty. No, not empty. It had been empty before, when she simply wasn't there. No, now it was abandoned. Deserted. And he knew now, without having to see for himself, that the home upstairs would be the same. Zhaan was gone. Again. And if she was gone, truly gone, then he was alone. Again. And this time he hadn’t even been given the chance to say goodbye. Unwilling to face this reality, he made a soft despairing noise and turned and fled towards the school.
He managed, somehow, to keep himself together until he’d returned to the relative safety of his room. Then, with the door shut and his face buried in a pillow, he screamed. Only the once, then he was on his feet once more, pacing frantically and speaking rapidly. If anyone were listening, the words might have been recognizable as a supplication, though one in a language no one here was likely to understand. It seemed likely the rest of the day was going to continue in this fashion. He certainly had no thoughts of leaving the room unless it was absolutely necessary.
[So, Stark hasn't been crazy for a while. This seemed as good an excuse as any. He's in the room all day, talking to himself or an unnamed higher power...he's not sure which it is either. Mostly establishy, though if you want crazy interaction, that can happen.]
Standing outside in the early morning light, he had seen that something had indeed been wrong. Something was still wrong, very wrong, and he hadn’t even known. The shop was empty. No, not empty. It had been empty before, when she simply wasn't there. No, now it was abandoned. Deserted. And he knew now, without having to see for himself, that the home upstairs would be the same. Zhaan was gone. Again. And if she was gone, truly gone, then he was alone. Again. And this time he hadn’t even been given the chance to say goodbye. Unwilling to face this reality, he made a soft despairing noise and turned and fled towards the school.
He managed, somehow, to keep himself together until he’d returned to the relative safety of his room. Then, with the door shut and his face buried in a pillow, he screamed. Only the once, then he was on his feet once more, pacing frantically and speaking rapidly. If anyone were listening, the words might have been recognizable as a supplication, though one in a language no one here was likely to understand. It seemed likely the rest of the day was going to continue in this fashion. He certainly had no thoughts of leaving the room unless it was absolutely necessary.
[So, Stark hasn't been crazy for a while. This seemed as good an excuse as any. He's in the room all day, talking to himself or an unnamed higher power...he's not sure which it is either. Mostly establishy, though if you want crazy interaction, that can happen.]