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MHA #8, Friday morning
Feb. 11th, 2022 06:44 amIt had been weeks now since Faye had blindsided Stark with the news she was leaving. He was still hurt. He was still confused. He was still, on the very rare occasions when he allowed himself to admit it, angry. Nothing was helping, not even his friends, though at least they’d tried. They had tried. He had tried. He was still trying. It wasn’t enough. Winter had always been difficult for Stark. This was the worst one yet though it had started off so well. Or he’d thought it had. He’d thought a lot of things at the beginning of the year that were no longer true. Maybe they never had been. He was doubting everything now.
There had been no word from her since she walked out. He wanted to know that she was alright, if nothing else. He would still be hurt and he would still be confused but at least he wouldn’t be so worried. And if he knew she was alright that would mean she cared at least enough to let him know and that would help the hurt and the anger, a little. But she hadn’t let him know anything and he was unwilling to try and reach out himself. He was absolutely certain he wouldn’t be able to handle it if he couldn’t reach her or if she refused to speak with him if he did manage to make contact. He was making another, long overdue, call today instead.
Or he would be once he was done pacing inside his apartment. He’d done that so often lately. Pacing, talking to himself, other old habits that had mostly fallen away in recent months were all making a return. He had his comms out, twirling the bit of metal in his fingers as he walked, trying to work up the nerve to actually try and contact the ship. Finally, annoyed at himself, he sighed heavily and tried to make a connection.
( Banik phone home? )
Stark had his phone out trying for a portal as soon as he disconnected. He could get to one of the moons in the Hynerian system if he left within the hour. That was fine. Leaving now was fine. Leaving now meant avoiding parties and Three Minute Dates and everything about Monday. There was no reason to wait. Not really. He wasn’t needed here. He wasn’t needed anywhere. That had been made far too clear.
He wrote a short text after booking the portal, sent to a few friends.
Going back to Moya.
I’ll try to come back. When things are better.
When I’m better.
I’m sorry.
He wasn’t sure if he was apologizing for leaving, for his current state, for not telling anyone in person, or a combination of all of those things. Apologizing just felt necessary.
[Can be open to respond to the text or try and catch him before he catches his portal. If you think you should have gotten one of those texts and didn't, feel free. Stark’s going away while I try and hopefully figure out how to get him to be functional again instead of just hurt and sad and broken forever.]
There had been no word from her since she walked out. He wanted to know that she was alright, if nothing else. He would still be hurt and he would still be confused but at least he wouldn’t be so worried. And if he knew she was alright that would mean she cared at least enough to let him know and that would help the hurt and the anger, a little. But she hadn’t let him know anything and he was unwilling to try and reach out himself. He was absolutely certain he wouldn’t be able to handle it if he couldn’t reach her or if she refused to speak with him if he did manage to make contact. He was making another, long overdue, call today instead.
Or he would be once he was done pacing inside his apartment. He’d done that so often lately. Pacing, talking to himself, other old habits that had mostly fallen away in recent months were all making a return. He had his comms out, twirling the bit of metal in his fingers as he walked, trying to work up the nerve to actually try and contact the ship. Finally, annoyed at himself, he sighed heavily and tried to make a connection.
( Banik phone home? )
Stark had his phone out trying for a portal as soon as he disconnected. He could get to one of the moons in the Hynerian system if he left within the hour. That was fine. Leaving now was fine. Leaving now meant avoiding parties and Three Minute Dates and everything about Monday. There was no reason to wait. Not really. He wasn’t needed here. He wasn’t needed anywhere. That had been made far too clear.
He wrote a short text after booking the portal, sent to a few friends.
Going back to Moya.
I’ll try to come back. When things are better.
When I’m better.
I’m sorry.
He wasn’t sure if he was apologizing for leaving, for his current state, for not telling anyone in person, or a combination of all of those things. Apologizing just felt necessary.
[Can be open to respond to the text or try and catch him before he catches his portal. If you think you should have gotten one of those texts and didn't, feel free. Stark’s going away while I try and hopefully figure out how to get him to be functional again instead of just hurt and sad and broken forever.]