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Day 03 [1000 hrs.] The Mind Darkly

[ Deacon | Hallway | Deck 9 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ]  Attn: @Absinthe

The morning had proven comparatively routine.  He woke, groomed, and set about to his assigned task of preparing the first meal service of the day.  Fortunately, he had a passing familiarity with rudimentary breakfast dishes on several Federation worlds.  Eggs seemed a predominant feature of most, with meat and simple starches and grain products as supplement.  As far as eggs went, kzinti weren't unfamiliar, although their taste tended more towards the raw product rather than the cooked variations.  It took a few attempts until he'd found the proper heating and timing to avoid burning the meals.  The bacon, the sausage, the ham, and even the steak -- those were all easy enough to master.  Toast and hash browns were deceptively simple and cereal required no effort whatsoever.  Oatmeal, rice, grits... those would take more time before he could perfect them.

Still, the morning shift had gone relatively without issue and the new holographic staff were currently monitoring things while he tended to some of the health related requirements that Dr. Nicander had set in place.  First, a booster shot to bolster his system as a result of the surgery the following day.  Vitamins were necessary to supplement his immune system and muscles to help resolve any lingering tremor.  Physical therapy, too, was recommended, although it appeared most any exercise routine would suffice, so long as it proved an adequate work out.

He was secretly thankful for the excuse.  Since his departure from homeworld, he'd felt pensive, caged.  Honestly, it wasn't unexpected for the humans to keep a kzin on a tight leash for their own sense of security, but it was anything but comfortable to the kzin.  His people engaged in rigorous activities on a daily basis, whether hunting, ranging or battle.  True, they enjoyed their down time.  Grooming, stretching, and relaxing in the warm light of the sun was as much a part of their culture as the rest.  Too much of the latter, though, lead to deconditioning, complacency, and often death, at the hands of challengers eager to climb the social ranks.  There was a reason one so rarely encountered an unfit kzin.

But as thankful as he was for the exercise, he was less enthusiastic about the final item on his morning agenda: counseling. On an intellectual level, he understood the recommendation.  He had, after all, recently betrayed his people and returned to the Federation through less than ideal circumstances, only to have to undergo surgery that might otherwise threaten to undermine his sense of self.  But understanding the reasons and liking them were two very different and distinct impulses.

The path back from the gym to the counselors' office was like any other.  So many corridors on these Starfleet vessels looked the same, especially the further from Below Decks he wandered.  At least on the starbase, he could escape into the more open areas where the walls didn't seem to press in on him, the never ending litany of tan doors nearly fading into the endless white of the corridor with its pale blue carpeting.  It nearly made him dizzy if he focused on it too long, or not enough.  A chill ran along the length his spine from tail to scruff.  Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw something move.  A bulkhead?  No, the bulkhead was fine.

His hearts were beating in his ears, but all he could hear was a droning hum that seemed to echo throughout the superstructure down to the very core of the ship.  Each breath caught in his throat as he stared at the door before him.  Lead seemed to settle into his stomach as visions played out a cycle of nightmarish images of what lay beyond the door.  He couldn't move forward.  Whatever fresh hell lay ahead, he couldn't bring himself to set eyes upon it.

Re: Day 03 [1000 hrs.] The Mind Darkly

Reply #1 –
[ PO1 B'Nila Skai | Counselor's office | Deck 9 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: steelphoenix
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In only a short time on board B'Nila had found herself immersed in her duties. Both with helping her crewmate of the Resolve settle into a life aboard the Theurgy, but also dealing with the amount of psychological damage the crew of the Theurgy had sustained in only a short amount of time. It was clear the crew of both ship had been pushed past the breaking point of many of them and her job and the job of those in her department was all the more vital because of it. She had found that she spend much of her on duty time seeing patients and would save the record keeping for her off hours. She was lucky that the ship had a more advanced computer capable of recording details of the therapy sessions and keeping them confidential. She needed highly accurate records, but she also needed to ensure that they would not fall into the wrong hands. It was the biggest problem during the war while she worked on Betazed. She could not afford for her clients personal information to be used against them by the Dominion overseers.

She planned to take a little break shortly after 1000 hrs, but as the door slid open to the corridor she found she had a walk in, or rather she found someone in the pathway who was likely very shortly going to be a walkin. Her schedule usually allowed for such things with ease, but right now it was very tightly booked. She would have turned the cat-like creature away, but seeing his state, she knew she had to see him. She felt sorry for Mr. Deacon, but it appeared she was going to have to cancel his appointment in favor of seeing the being before her now.

Knowing she would have to bring him out of his trauma state she slowly crouched before him and placed her fingertips gently on his face. The rush of the mental connection was instant, but her mind was highly disciplined. She pushed the damaged memories aside, doing her best not to examine them, in this moment the necessity was to bring him back to the world for a moment. "Come to me, come back to the surface, be here, be now," she said softly, her words flowing into his mind like a calm breeze. "Be here, be now."

Her own emotions flowing through the link were that of a calm peaceful tranquility. She focused on the image of white steam rising up from the deep cracks in her home world to the black sky and it's twinkling stars, an image that always gave her some peace with the strong emotional feeling of safety and home. Elsarian telepathic links were very image and feeling based more than words, so she did her best to convey her meaning with image and feeling. She wanted him to feel safe, at least safe enough to return to the moment with her.

She would hold the link only as long as it took to stabilize him and return him. If need be she could hold the link longer and do a complete session linked, but that was dangerous for her own mental health as well as the patient as it tended to break down walls between patient and therapist that aught not be broken down.

Re: Day 03 [1000 hrs.] The Mind Darkly

Reply #2 –
[ Deacon | Counselor's Office | Deck 9 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ]  Attn: @Absinthe

At her touch, the images came in a barrage to assault the senses, crippling, overwhelming, all-consuming.  The hall was alight with flames, the fire suppression units unresponsive.  Before her, the door to her office?  No, another door, crew quarters -- home?  The door lay ajar, beyond, the flames burning high and intense, the bulkheads within having fallen, and even further, the cold depths of space, separated only by the thin electric hum of an emergency force field.

The red alert cast the scene in a ruddy din.  Screams echoed in her ears, followed by an alert-- the computer intoning, "Warning.  Warp core breach in 3 minutes, 30 seconds.  All hands, proceed to escape pods."  But she couldn't move from that spot, despite the chaos that crowded past her... something held her here, something beyond the door, beyond the flames, if only she could reach it.  Another sound, heavy, alien, artificial.  It descended on her like the weight of a thousand voices speaking at once.  "We are the Borg.  Lower your shields and prepare for assimilation.  Resistance is futile."

And then a pair of hands grabbed hold of her, lifting her up, carrying her away. 

The images ended with a sudden abruptness, like the slamming of a gate.  Golden eyes stared intensely into her own, not reflective, but predatory, angry, paired with the bared fangs of the man whom she'd found motionless outside her door.  "Telepath," he said with a tone of undisguised disgust.

Deacon had done his utmost in the days since he'd arrived in Federation space to keep his less socially acceptable reactions to himself.  He'd even gone so far as to remain respectful to the females, knowing that they were considered equals within human society as opposed to how he'd been raised.  In the haven of his own thoughts, he had time to digest and reflect on those parts of himself, but this one, this female had breached that cherished sanctum.  His emotions were far too raw, his hearts still pounding in his ears.  It was a struggle to restrain his most base of instincts.

Stepping away from B'Nila, he rose to his full height, his bared fangs disappearing behind a dark scowl.  "Stay out of my head."

Re: Day 03 [1000 hrs.] The Mind Darkly

Reply #3 –
[ PO1 B'Nila Skai | Counselor's office | Deck 9 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: steelphoenix
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Lowering her hand from the man's face B'Nila got to her feet. His sudden shift from his traumatized state to a more aggressive one was not unforeseeable and thus came as no real surprise to her. She simply took a step back and held her hands up, fingers pointer toward the ceiling displaying her open palms, a sign of both submission and surrender in many cultures. The goal was a non-verbal gesture to diffuse the situation.

"I apologize for using my abilities without your consent. My goal was simply to bring your mind back to the present moment and to allow you some degree of emotional control once more," she said in a calm and even tone. Her bright golden eyes stayed on his predator like eyes, though she was very much aware of the positioning of his hands, in case she found herself in a situation in which she needed to defend herself from attack.

"I am counselor B'Nila Skai," she said in the same calm and even tone. She kept her hands up and did not move, doing her best to ensure that her position as submissive in this particular situation was maintained. She understood the social hieachy of most predatory species, even if she was not directly familiar with the species of the being before her. She knew enough that to behave in a more submissive manner was her best chance of regaining her usual degree of control. "I can help you if you would like, but if you would prefer I can also recommend another counselor assist you as well."

Re: Day 03 [1000 hrs.] The Mind Darkly

Reply #4 –
[ Deacon | Counselor's Office | Deck 9 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ]  Attn: @Absinthe

Deacon gave the female a sour look as she backed away, palms exposed. Did she think him some instinct driven beast that couldn't recognize feigned submission for what it was?  When she introduced herself, he gave a sharp tsk between his teeth, rubbing his clawed hands over his face.  It figured.  Not only did the Federation give their females positions of equality, the same was true for their telepaths.  Some rational side of him somewhat suspected this, given all he'd learned of the Federation, but years of ingrained, systemic mistrust was hard to overturn in an instant.

He forced himself to relax, his shoulders loosening as he cast his gaze towards the ceiling.  "I was told to come see you about reintegrating with my father's people," he began, holding up a clawed finger in punctuation, "but I don't want you in my head."

Bring him back to the present, she had said.  He'd had another attack.  This would be problematic if he didn't come to some resolution -- he'd be more or less stuck in Below Decks for the rest of his life on board ship. Only three days on board, and already two nearly incapacitating instances from within himself, and given he'd come to this ship alone, he had to trust his mind and body now more than ever... and his body had already betrayed him.  Was his mind as unreliable?

Turning his back for a moment, he weighed the options.  Kzinti did not have counselors, at least not in the human sense of the word.  Sure, there were advisers, priests who took on roles as advocates, either for a pride, a patriarch, or the whole of the race if they felt truly ambitious, but this was all ultimately intended for the betterment of the kzinti as a whole.  If their charge was without hope, it was expected that the speaker advising him take steps to counter and even eliminate his weakness.  The Federation, though, seemed to champion lost causes.  Still, it chaffed Deacon's sense of self-worth to think himself some hopeless victim.

But was this something he could resolve alone?  In time, perhaps, if he were honest with himself, but he had to admit that an outside perspective might well expedite such matters. He did not, however, relish the thought of leaving himself vulnerable to another in this way.  Maybe he could just talk to K'Ren?  The female had even gone so far as to offer another counselor in her place, but this was a challenge, and no kzin walked away from a challenge.

He lowered his head.  He needed to find his balance again.  Too much of his life had been set on edge, nothing was familiar, nothing comfortable, and he was alone.

Casting a gaze back towards B'Nila, he regarded her critically.  He was unfamiliar with her species, but he supposed the details no longer mattered.  "My name is Deacon," he stated, his tone considerably more calm than moments ago, a concerted if obvious attempt to start their encounter from scratch.  "I believe I have an appointment."

Re: Day 03 [1000 hrs.] The Mind Darkly

Reply #5 –
[ PO1 B'Nila Skai | Counselor's office | Deck 9 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: steelphoenix
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Golden eyes gleaming, B'Nila simply nodded. “I prefer to not use my more unique abilities in favor of more traditional therapeutic practices, she said simply as she lowered her hands. His body language gave her a wealth of information, though her lack of familiarity with his race did restrict the amount of information she could get easily. It was clear that there was a degree of hostility toward her but it was not clear if this was the result of her intrusion into his mind or something else.

She had gone over his psyche profile of course, but now wished she had the time to also go over the cultural database for information about the Kzinti in more detail, even if he was only half of that culture, it would still play a role in both his cultural understandings and mindset. She knew only a little about them and not enough to be of much use when it came to more complex therapeutic practises. Quite likely there were some cultural concerns that would need to be taken into consideration. In fact telepathic contact itself was viewed very differently from culture to culture, his reaction alone implied he was not from a culture that was as open with such contact of that kind.

So she would have to tread lightly and play it by ear as it were. She would doubtless make several cultural faux pas, but with any luck her intentions would be clear enough to allow her to do her job at least somewhat effectively. He he did become one of her more regular patients she would need to do more research to be better equipped, but her time was a commodity that she did not have in abundance at the moment.

"It is very good to meet you Mr. Deacon,” she said with a polite, but restrained smile. She stepped to the side and gestured into the office proper. “If you would not mind joining me I think we can get started properly.”

Re: Day 03 [1000 hrs.] The Mind Darkly

Reply #6 –
[ Deacon | Counselor's Office | Deck 9 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ]  Attn: @Absinthe

Deacon entered the office, and, taking its measure with a quick and practiced eye, moved towards the couch, taking a seat, his tail deftly wrapping to the side to avoid discomfort.  He could feel his irritation -- the raised hackles, the faint bristling of his fur which ironically was far less discernible than it had been prior to his surgery.  Still, the tensing of muscles was, perhaps, the most common display among mammals.  The humans referred to it as part of the 'fight or flight' mechanic.

He thought back to his morning routine.  Well, not yet a routine.  It had, in fact, been the first day he'd had an opportunity to consider establishing one.  The ritual of grooming was very important to his people, and while shorter fur made the task more expedient for the purposes of moving on to other duties, it cut short that necessary private time.  It was as much about cleanliness and maintaining one's proper sense of station as it was a celebration of the senses.  Humans, he doubted, could fully appreciate the experience.  Vulcans, he'd heard, were a tactile culture, but no kzin in their right mind would give the slightest care as to what a group of leaf-eaters had to say.  The thought that they might appreciate something in common was laughable.

And yet, here he was, on a crew with humans, vulcans, and whatever species this counselor was.  He'd been -- and here was the point where he reached an impasse within himself.... was the proper word 'restored'... or 'reduced'? -- to the point where he had to eat as they did.  The train of thought was rapidly spiraling down a path he did not wish to explore.  The grooming.  He returned, again, to that thought, letting the memory sink into his muscles, the fragrance of the oils he used on his fur.  He'd made a point to seek out something more pleasing to his nose when the opportunity presented itself, but what he had on hand wasn't bad and, as with most things in the Federation, seemed eminently practical.

Opening his eyes once more, he looked towards the counselor.  "So, how does this go, exactly?"

Re: Day 03 [1000 hrs.] The Mind Darkly

Reply #7 –
[ PO1 B'Nila Skai | Counselor's office | Deck 9 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: steelphoenix
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Every detail was a symphony of expression to B'Nila's eyes. She was adapting more easily to his body language than she had expected, though it could have been a result of the temporary mental link they had shared. She was loathe to use such practises in her therapy but in truth it always did seem to ensure a easier time for her to be able to read her patient. Still she had little by way of cultural context to place it in, but a smile was a smile and a frown was a frown, some body language was universal. It would be the trick to find those subtle clues.

She took her seat in her large chair that appeared to be covered a white fur, though it was not like any fur most had ever seen. In fact it was a fine layer of the same bacteria and fungi lichen found on her homeworld forming millions of fine hair like filaments. Because of her unique biology the chair allowed her to more easily regulate her internal body temperature, though it did give her office the faint aroma of petrichor and touches of something akin to mildew.

"We can begin however you like," she said simply. "Therapy is less about focusing on a journey, and more about an individual step. It's about healing a trauma and as with healing any trauma it is a matter of proper diagnosis and treatment, combined with time. Though some trauma is easier, for matters such as these it is best to take it slow. We need not rush any topic or conversation. You can talk about whatever you like and I will only attempt to guide the topics if I deem in necessary." Her tone was calm and collected, a very different sort of creature than she had been when she had been at the door.

Re: Day 03 [1000 hrs.] The Mind Darkly

Reply #8 –
[ Deacon | Counselor's Office | Deck 9 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ]  Attn: @Absinthe

Deacon watched the counselor closely as she took her seat, a faintly sour expression on his face.  However he liked?  That seemed a terribly inefficient way to address anything, truth be told.  Interrogations were directed, purposeful, probing, and he expected this to be more interrogation with pointed direction to follow.  Such had been his life on homeworld.

Tilting his head to the side, he gave her a wary eye.  Kzinti weren't big on discussing their emotions, and even less inclined to disgorge the reasons behind their choices.  Black Priests even more so, as masters of secrets and the claw behind the seat of the Patriarch.  That she had even managed to find a momentary flaw in his mental defenses was insulting enough, but now to be expected to voluntarily divulge his inner most thoughts...?

And further, she left it to him to begin the conversation, expecting him to pick something from a lifetime of experience to start.  Was this some clever strategy to get him to blurt out that which troubled him most?  The unclever or unwary might stumble headlong into such revelations, but he was determined to find something innocuous.  If this was to be a verbal joust, he would have to ensure he won in the end.

His gaze moved from one corner of the room to the next, lighting briefly on the assorted decorations and nick knacks, hoping what might inspire him sufficiently... what was the term humans used?  A breaker of ice?  A strange term as there was no ice, and while the air was perhaps a tad cooler than he preferred, the thought that humans would equate such things to the initiation of conversation simply proved how convoluted their language was.  It was little wonder so much of the galaxy was confused by them.

After a long, pregnant silence punctuated by him finally preening the tip of his own tail for lack of other inspiration, he finally sighed.  "I give up.  How long do these torture sessions last?"

Re: Day 03 [1000 hrs.] The Mind Darkly

Reply #9 –
[ PO1 B'Nila Skai | Counselor's office | Deck 9 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: steelphoenix
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Silence had never really bothered B'Nila as much as it seemed to bother other humanoids, perhaps it was the result of the quieter nature of her homeworld, the lower amount of wildlife did means a lower amount of sound. But in that moment she was able to gleam a number of details from just the body language of the being before her. There was a discomfort in the way he sat and fidgeted, clearly he had not been in many therapy sessions, though it did seem to be deeper than that. Perhaps it was a detachment from his emotional state that caused it, many who were in more strenuous situations would experience a form of emotional detachment and in fact prolonged emotional detachment would result in it's own unique traumas when attempting to reintegrate emotions.

"I tend to schedule each an hour and a half for each client, but most of my counseling sessions are not more than an hour in length," she replied calmly. She did not address the complaint about this being torture. To some the Counselor's office was a torture chamber and confronting their own emotions was by far more frightening than confronting most forms of physical pain. "Though I am more than able to delay appointments and move around my schedule should the need arise. One a ship like this one must be flexible with such things as scheduling and sticking to them."

She let the moment linger for a second before she decided to press forward. It was clear that she would likely need to probe, though she would need to be tactful about it. She knew she could not get right into the trauma, instead only the surface area could be touched upon at this point and even that would have to be done in just the right way. She would have to bait him, provide the door for him to walk through. "How have you been finding life on the ship since you arrived? Any problems or difficulties adjusting to the environment or personalities of the people around you?"

Re: Day 03 [1000 hrs.] The Mind Darkly

Reply #10 –
[ Deacon | Counselor's Office | Deck 9 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ]  Attn: @Absinthe

"Finding life on the ship since I arrived?  Aside from nearly dying from a mysterious virus? Undergoing surgery and genetic resequencing?  Being targeted for assassination by some monkey fanatics?  Or could you be referring to being chewed out by the doctor for escaping?" he blurted, sarcasm dripping from every word.  "If not for the sex, yesterday would've sucked."  He paused, realizing what he has just said before internally chastising himself for it.  Yes, the Fanged God demanded honesty, but he didn't require blind disclosure.

He rubbed his forehead, kneading the base of the whiskers that arched out from the edges of what passed for eyebrows.  Closing his large, golden eyes, he took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before again setting his gaze on the counselor.  "Do you want to know what I saw when I looked in the mirror this morning?"  He paused momentarily, allowing the question to saturate the air before he continued.  "One of you."

Waving his hand, he went on, "Don't get me wrong.  I know it's me.  But it's not me, not the me that came here.  It's the me that left here.  Part of the procedure the doctor had to do to save my life, although I suppose he'd call it a restoration -- undoing what the kzinti doctors did.  I'm not saying he mutilated me, I'm not... ugly," he conceded, weighing the word, "just... another type of unremarkable... ordinary."

He rose from his seat and began pacing back and forth in front of the couch as he expounded.  "On top of that, your females walk around freely, equally.  I'm here confessing my problems to a female, expecting what?  I don't know.  Some solution to this insanity, I suppose.  A telepath, no less.  And she asks how I'm adapting?  I'm alone in a world that's turned upside down.  I've lost all straakh, a place of respect and power among my people."  He stopped, casting an accusatory glare at her, "And why?  Because I took pity on one of those hairless monkey faces.  One of those unremarkable, ordinary faces that I can barely remember because they all look the same."

He folded his arms across his chest, rubbing the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb.  "This isn't adaptation, it's... it's... assimilation."

Re: Day 03 [1000 hrs.] The Mind Darkly

Reply #11 –
[ PO1 B'Nila Skai | Counselor's office | Deck 9 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: steelphoenix
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As he spoke B'Nila remained silent. She could tell by his tone and words that there was a great deal of pain and struggle. "It is remarkable how much a word's meaning can change simply because of an enemy's usage of it," she commented when he had finished. "Assimilation in and itself is not a bad thing. It is simply the process of taking in and fully understanding information or ideas. No more and no less. Your assimilation into the crew and the concepts those of the Federation embrace is difficult, but that is where adaptation comes in. I believe you know that you can adapt to this new environment, or at the very least learn to tolerate it." She spoke calmly, electing to ignore his comment about gender for now. There would be a time to address such concerns, but first there were other matters.

"I am certain that all of us who come from worlds unlike the core Federation ones have a hard time adapting and assimilating into the crews of Starfleet ships, but that does not mean that we are unable to do so," she went on, leaning forward slightly. "I come from a world without a sun, when I first came to live among other races I found the amount of light they lived with day to day unbearable. I could not eat what they ate, I could not do much of what they did as I was all but blinded by the light the needed to see. I wa shocked by some of the customs and annoyed at first by some of the rules. I have adapted as I am certain you have the ability to. What it comes down to is if you want to adapt or not. If you want to you must accept the troubles and trials that will come with it; if not then there is nothing anyone can do for you. The choice, such as it is, is yours."

Re: Day 03 [1000 hrs.] The Mind Darkly

Reply #12 –
[ Deacon | Counselor's Office | Deck 9 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ]  Attn: @Absinthe

"The choice is mine?"  Deacon arched one eyebrow, the whiskers projecting from it giving an irritable twitch.  "No, no it isn't.  Not anymore.  Not now.  It's this or it's nothing.  There is no going backwards for me.  This is as backwards as it gets," he spat angrily, his tail swishing in rapid jerks. Reflexively clenching his fists, his claws tensing, he did his best not to rise from the couch, knowing well his display was unnerving enough.

"You came here bothered by light?  Shades could have fixed that.  You change your mind and want to go home?  I bet they're there, waiting for you with open arms.  But me, I go back, and they'll take my ears," he growls, fangs bared.  "I don't get a do-over, so spare me the platitudes.  Change is a state of mind. You can learn to adapt to anything.  This isn't about choice... this is survival."

Laying his head back against the couch, he was quiet, his muscles slowly relaxing, claws retracting.  "I'm... I'm sorry, maybe this was a mistake," he said quietly, not bothering to lift his head, instead reaching up his hand to rub his face.  "Maybe I'm not the counseling type."

Re: Day 03 [1000 hrs.] The Mind Darkly

Reply #13 –
[ PO1 B'Nila Skai | Counselor's office | Deck 9 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: steelphoenix
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It often times surprised B'Nila how often those who came to her both in the Trauma Center on Betazed and in her offices in space would rule themselves out for the idea of counseling, all while opening up and proving that counseling would work. It was almost humorous in how things worked like that.

"Then the objective becomes much simpler for you. You will either decide to survive and you will adapt to whatever this new life holds for you, or you will not," she replied with an uncharacteristic flatness. She could see that a more calm approach would not work, so she needed to work differently. "If you cannot stay adapt to change you will die. That is the nature to all life and there is no point in viewing it any differently. I am sorry to put it so bluntly, but it is clear to me that you already know your situation."

She paused and examined him for a moment, her golden hued eyes gazing into him as if trying to see into his very soul. When she spoke again he tone remained as flat and almost sharp as it had been. She had the tone of someone who was done playing around. In truth this was just to see if he would respond to a sterner approach. It was a risky approach to take as it could sour the relationship, however in B'Nila's judgment it was a necessary risk. "You seem to be trapped. As all of us are. You can no more return to your kind as any of us can return to our own. Do not forget we are fugitives. By standing on his ship we are marked for death. Were are all trapped together. We need not adapt on our own, we can lean on each other for strength."

Re: Day 03 [1000 hrs.] The Mind Darkly

Reply #14 –
[ Deacon | Counselor's Office | Deck 9 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ]  Attn: @Absinthe

Deacon shifted his position on the couch slightly so that he could look down the length of his face at B'Nila without bothering to lift his head.  He frowned slightly, but only slightly.  So, she could make her words bite, although her fangs were blunt.  "Perhaps," he admitted, not necessarily wanting to admit defeat but seeing some wisdom in her argument.

But that brought him back to a fundamental problem -- what was his purpose here.  On homeworld, he was a Black Priest.  He would administer the cub tests, follow the rites and rituals of his people, pass on the teachings and words of the Fanged God, speak on behalf of the people to the Patriarch and on behalf of the Patriarch to the people.  It was a prestigious life -- yes, one of service, but it was a grand calling,a high purpose, respected by all, even those who secretly feared the priesthood.

Here, he served drinks and made food, and while he had a talent for those things and took pride in his skills, they were the tiniest reflection of his true abilities.  And outside of the chain of command, it was unlikely he would ever find a similar position to act as adviser to the captain.  The cub test would be considered abominable by human standards.  And religion... aside from the occasional outlier, it seemed a wholly private matter.  Instead of the community gathering to share their faith, it was kept hushed and personal here.  Although there was the matter of the so-called mutineers that had afflicted the ship of late-- though Deacon considered that more fanaticism than faith, despite their own misguided perceptions on the matter.

But she was right, this had little do with adapting to being 'home' in the Federation.  Millions did that on a daily basis and he sincerely doubted Starfleet Medical had a counselling staff adequate to help them all with such adjustments.  So why had he been told to attend these sessions?  The surgery?  While millions come to the Federation, doubtless only a handful ever had to undergo genetic surgery in the process.

Sitting up again, he tilted his head to the side. "So I survive," he acknowledged, conceding that argument.  "What now?"

Re: Day 03 [1000 hrs.] The Mind Darkly

Reply #15 –
[ PO1 B'Nila Skai | Counselor's office | Deck 9 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: steelphoenix
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Seeing his reaction B'Nila could not help but wonder is she was perhaps to aggressive in her response. However she was also certain that she would need to maintain a degree of dominance and directness here. There was some room for subtlety, but not to her usual liking.

Then it seems that the problem is one of more than survival, but one of finding a way to thrive. To allow yourself the leeway to find an outlet for your frustrations and the ability to find a niche in the new order in which you find yourself," B'Nila said. She was guessing here, but it seemed that he was from a vastly different culture, one with a clear cut sense of purpose and drive defined by that which was external, rather than the more internal drive the Federation indulged. "If I may be so bold as to say, you have lived your life thus far defined by the situation around you. Now you have the opportunity to define who you are more freely. Though it will not be as easy. I fear there are many options cut off due to the nature of the ship's mission, but I do not think it will interfere with your development of your new definition of self unless you let it."

She spoke calmly and rationally. "If you are to thrive in your current environment, more than just survive, you must define yourself and your purpose," she went on. "This above all else seems to be the biggest problem most of us face in our lives and there is no simple solution as the nature of our environment is ever changing. Thus the nature of our definition of ourselves must be quite flexible. I believe your definition of yourself has been, up to this point, quite rigid. It is likely this that causes you the most difficulty. You are not where you once were, so you cannot be who you once were. You must find a version of yourself. I can do a little to help you find that version of yourself, but the work will need to be done by you."

Re: Day 03 [1000 hrs.] The Mind Darkly

Reply #16 –
[ Deacon | Counselor's Office | Deck 9 | Vector 2 | USS Theurgy ]  Attn: @Absinthe

Deacon took a deep breath, suppressing the urge, albeit barely, to sigh at the counselor's words.  This session wasn't about surviving, thriving or any of the other Federation nonsense.  He'd come to grips with that, in as much as he could.  This female seemed convinced that there was very little thought leading to his action and little consequence stemming from them.  It was all choice and personal decision.  Well of course it was.  He knew this.  A first year black fur learned this before he'd even shed his cub name.  Was she purposefully vague, taunting him, or worse -- was this all Starfleet counseling had to offer?

Everyone defined themselves in a certain way -- it was a natural consequence of growing up.  It was shaped, in part by decision, and in part by societal expectations, customs, and those around you.  You either followed the tide of expectations and conformed to the position others set for you, or you strove against it, rebelling in some degree, to set your own path.  He, himself, had done one, and now the other, and now the female was instructing him as if they had been one and the same.  Frustration raced along his spine, ruffling the fur from nape to tail.  It was all he could do to keep his exasperation from reading in his face.

He recognized that he was a Black Priest, and there would always be that desire to fulfill that role; to excel to a position of importance at the side of his Patriarch, helping to shape the destiny of his people, feeling the approval of his grandfather.  Had he been raised by his parents, no doubt he'd be a dutiful member of Starfleet himself.  Now, he was neither.  But beyond those simple classifications, he was more.  His interests and hobbies were his own.  His fascination with ancient cultures and religions were not ascribed by the Priesthood -- truly, what truth is there to be had in looking to the misguided notions of those who did not follow the Fanged God.  Even cooking had been his choice.  He could have left it to mediocre standards, the better to dissuade others from relying on his talent in that regard, but he had chosen to excel, to master this form of expression and others.  Those were what made him him.

Closing his eyes, he rolled his ears back slightly, before finally rising to his feet, the picture of serenity.  "I will think on this," he noted, feeling the statement vague enough to be polite without necessarily being a falsification in the eyes of his God.  He turned and strode towards the door, feeling enough had been said in this session to last him several lifetimes, but realizing the expectation would be for the conversation to continue.  "I will schedule a follow-up for next week," he added, glancing over his shoulder.  "Good day, counselor."

Re: Day 03 [1000 hrs.] The Mind Darkly

Reply #17 –
[ PO1 B'Nila Skai | Counselor's office | Deck 9 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @steelphoenix
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As she watched him leave B'Nila said nothing, instead letting him have the final word. She could see know she was woefully underprepared to deal with him. SHe knew so little about his race or his culture and as a result she could not help but wonder if she had done just as much harm as good in that session. She needed to do some research, into a great many topics. And she was so bloody tired. She leaned back in her chair and sighed before checking the chronometer on her desk. It wasn't even noon yet and all she wanted to do was close her eyes and go to sleep.

Finally she got to her feet and stretched. "Thea, transfer as much information about the Kzinti race and Hologram/human relations as possible onto my personal PADD," she said as she went to the replicator and tapped a few buttons. A moment later she was presented with a steaming cup willed about half an inch below the ledge with a thick dark liquid. Like most beverages she drank it was thicker, but this was a bit thinner than her usual morning drink. It had the aroma of mushrooms and some exotic spice, in truth it was a broth made from fermented mushroom paste, but it was high in nutrients and very good for her, just the sort of pick-me-up she needed to keep going. Though she was tired, she really didn't feel much like trying to explain that she needed to cancel some appointments and then go back to her empty quarters.

So drink in hand she picked up her PADD and began to read. She had a lot of information to go over.

~Fin
 
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