[Stan]

'Up all night' has been playing on a near constant loop again.
He doesn't know what to do with himself. In any sense. He goes to work, plays video games, talks to Pete and Kenny, occasionally the others in the group chat, as a group.

He doesn't know why he bothers. He's still the same guy he was years ago when he made those attempts.
Sure he's learned a lot of coping skills, he's got a job he doesn't hate, but to what end? He goes to bed and wakes up with the same thoughts. Nothing changes without considerable effort, and even then, entropy is inevitable.

Not for the first time, he wonders if Wendy wasn't right. We all die anyway, better to go out on our own terms.

He sighs and opens a note on his phone, staring at the blank space idly for long minutes before beginning to type,

'Same thoughts,
New days.
An endless circular rhythm,
If nothing changes
In a true capacity,
Why bother at all?
Do we, as a species,
Have capacity for true change?
We do,
On a level,
But that takes years,
Billions of them.
What about on a personal level,
Do we have the capacity to change ourselves?
Are therapy and willingness enough,
Or are we only delaying the inevitable acceptance of our own inability?
'

He thinks a few more moments and eventually titles it "Changes".
Sending it to the group chat, he lays he phone face down and leaves his bedroom to go grab a soda from the fridge. He cracks it open with a pop and takes a long drink, just standing in the kitchen, relishing the burn of the cold drink.

He takes another sip before wandering back to his room. Once there, he sits in his gaming chair and turns on his xbox. He's unsure what he wants to play, so he flicks through his games, considering.
Eventually, he settles on Sims, since he hasn't played it in a while.
However, he quickly tires of the game and saves it, before returning to stare at his games.

As always since her death at least, his thoughts drift back to Wendy. Wendy, who had everything, who did the one thing he himself, had tried and failed to do. Her method hadn't been mentioned and if her parents knew, they hadn't shared. He wondered, if they shared the method. Before, he had been what he now considered careless. Even with his last attempt, though he had been certain, only to find out later, they didn't sell what he would need in OTC qualities. It was another reason he had been so fucked up over it. Because he had been so sure, that this time, this time he had done everything right.
He settled on a different method since those attempts were futile. He never walked around unarmed, not in the small town of South Park, he had knives on him always, the only time he didn't, was when he was relaxing at home, though there was never one too far away. It was still a small town, not that everyone knew he was bisexual, but he wasn't going to take chances. Craig was intimidating as hell and with Craig around, no one messed with Tweek. Butters had also buffed up, so again, no one would mess with him, but he was Stan Marsh, sometimes alcoholic. He had some muscle still, but it was mostly just chub from booze and depression. So he carried.
And it was that one, black blade, that would ultimately be his method.

Eventually, he loads an old game, Fable II, which he's beaten multiple times but it's still fun to run around in sometimes. It's a newer file, and he's wandering to the tattooists he's got unlocked so far, as he's looking at the options he considers his own, real life tattoos. One on his right forearm is a tree of life, he has another on his left bicep of a traditional style Chinese dragon breathing fire, another on his leg, a poem from a book he loves. He's considering another fandom small tattoo on his neck, that will serve as the marker for where the knife should eventually go in.
The question is, which fandom? He considers a quote from Fable, but none of them seem right.
Eventually, he saves and closes the game, picking up his phone, ignoring the notifications and doing a quick search for Lord of the Rings quotes, and finds one he thinks he will us, "But in the end it's only a passing thing, this shadow; even darkness must pass." as said by Sam. He doesn't want it to take up a whole lot of space so he thinks he'll have the artist curl it into a spiral.

He sends a text to Pete, asking if he feels like a trip into Denver, before finally checking his other notifications.
A private message from Bebe, asking if he needs to talk, another from Kenny asking the same, the group chat enjoyed his poem and cleared him to post it, which he does.
He contemplates replying to Bebe and Kenny as Pete replies, "when?"

"Soon as you're ready," he types to Pete before sending the same message to Bebe and Kenny, "Going w pete to get a new tat. Will b fine. Dw."

Ten minutes later, he's dressed in black jeans, a gray shirt with a black skull outline, and his usual black beanie. He glances around and grabs a light black zip up hoody, and double checks his pockets before leaving and going to his car. He's going to pick up Pete and then they're going to Denver to find a tattoo artist that accepts walk-ins. It might be an impulsive decision, but it's better than sitting there, alone.
Pete slides into the passenger seat moments after Stan's parked next to his house.

"Want some food or energy drinks?" Stan asks as he pulls back into the road.

"I wouldn't turn it down," Pete replies with a casual flick of his hair.

Stan laughs and they begin the trip, he plans to hit a gas station and a taco bell on the way. Though they'll probably have to go in to eat, since he can't very well eat a burrito and drive.