stykera: (starkozu - looks upward)
Stark awoke Saturday morning suddenly no longer Stark-shaped. There was a minimal amount of flailing this time and only one small yell of dismay, quickly muffled. He was almost used to this. Almost, not quite. He would never really be used to it. The flailing and yell gave way very shortly to nothing more than a long-suffering sigh.

He was at least resigned to it by now. It would go away. It had always gone away before and so it always had to go away. There was no other option that Stark was willing to consider and if he started considering other options things were sure to end badly. So he was going to continue believing that this too would pass by tomorrow. Or Monday. Definitely before Tuesday. He hoped. It would, wouldn't it?

At least here there would be others to commiserate with. He hoped. What if it was just him? He didn't want it to be just him. Not that he wanted others to have to deal with this too. He just didn't want to have to be the only one. The only way to find out was to go out, he supposed.

[Establishy. Though if you've got a reason or desire to stop by the alien's room I'm not gonna stop you. Mostly I just love the Starkozu icons.]
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: (cold)
It was cold out. Stark was not pleased with this development. Cold and snow would likely always remind him of the ice planet. But that was hard to think on, so he was trying not to. Even though it was cold and snowy outside.

Bundled up in his muppet fur coat, he was seated at the desk with an open book in front of him. There was also a mug of tea, and of course the all important plate of tiny cupcakes for sharing.

[SDCC starts tonight! EEK! I'm around for a few hours though, should anyone want me.]
stykera: (glowing)
The cookbook Stark was looking at today sounded delicious. Well, the book did not sound that way. The recipes did. Though the pictures weren't as interesting as some of those in the other books had been. He had plenty of other books to look at pictures in though, if he wanted to. The pile of cupcake cookbooks he had amassed while on the island had grown large enough now that it needed to be split into two.

The plate of tiny cupcakes took up exactly as much space as it always did. And the plants had not taken over the desk as much as the books had. They all seemed to be doing well though. They did seem to enjoy being talked to. And Stark found himself discussing cupcake possibilities with them often. They didn't talk back, of course, and if they had he probably would have run screaming from the office. Most plants didn't talk, and there was still a sometimes painful lack of those on this island and everywhere else. At least of one particular one.


[Standard disclaimer re: availability. And as per usual I'm happy to pick up pings later and the alien is happy for visitors.]
stykera: (crazy)
Stark was not time-displaced. Not this weekend anyway. This was probably a good thing. He'd jumped around in time before and it had ended, quite literally, in tears. Also in death and for a brief period a planet being utterly destroyed. The planet, at least, had gotten better. But that wasn't really relevant right now.

What was relevant was that Stark had found that cupcake TV program that Anders had mentioned and was now sitting on the edge of the bed watching it. Well, staring at it in horrified fascination might be a better term.

"FISH!?" Stark shook his head. "What sort of twisted person puts fish into a cupcake? That is terrible. Absolutely terrible."

Yes. Yes, he was in fact talking to the cupcake in his hand. Look, nobody ever accused him of being sane. Well, maybe they had. But really he'd only ever been accused of being less mad than he appeared.

"I'm not even sure what wasabi is" he continued, frowning at the nice normal chocolate cupcake he was holding, "but it does not sound like it belongs in a cupcake. Especially with fish. This is horrible. I have to tell Anders. I hope his cupcake truck doesn't do things like that. That was awful. Awful awful awful. Fish. In a cupcake!"

But he wasn't changing the channel. He couldn't seem to look away.


[Yes, he's watching Cupcake Wars and the tuna wasabi cupcake was REAL. Can be open. This just had to be done.]

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Stark

December 2024

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