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Topic: Day 05 [1300hrs.] Egos, Emotions & Expletives (Read 140 times) previous topic - next topic

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Day 05 [1300hrs.] Egos, Emotions & Expletives
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Personal Quarters | Deck 10 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Numen
 [Show/Hide]Lieutenant Commander Cross felt extremely agitated as he paced back and forth in his quarters, his arms folded behind his back and his jaw set in a look of grim determination. The small space did not allow for a lot of movement, and each leg of his pacing was only a handful of steps before he turned and stalked off in the direction he had come. He had been at it for some time, and finally forced himself to stop, breaking the path he had been following and striding slowly over to the viewport. Crossing his arms across his chest, he gazed out at the expanse beyond.

It had finally caught up with him. Five days since their escape from the Versant. Five days since they had gained their freedom, destroying the Borg invasion and fleeing the Azura Nebula. Five days since he had lost his hand.

And now, finally, he had to deal with something that he had tried to avoid. He'd been busy in sickbay. Busy dealing with departmental issues. Away on shore leave. He had been rather creative, he realized, congratulating himself on his previous successes. But no longer. Now he had to finally give in. No more running. No more avoiding. Captain's orders.

"<Fucking> counselling sessions..." Cross grumbled at the panoramic view beyond the window. "I'd rather be fighting the Borg..."

Cross sighed and turned away from the window, his eyes scanning the interior of his quarters. Most would call it spartan, with nothing hung on the walls and nothing displayed on the shelves save for three orchids; a phalaenopsis orchid from Earth, an Edosian orchid, and a Vulcan orchid. The phalaenopsis and Edosian orchids had been replicated, while the Vulcan orchid had been... liberated... from the arboretum. There were numerous specimens present in the arboretum, and Cross hoped that one solitary plant wouldn't be missed. The plants aside, the only other personal item in his quarters was a Vulcan meditation lamp which sat on the corner table. Some might attribute the sparse furnishings and adornments as the aftermath of Cross' possessions being lost with the Endeavour, though in truth Cross' quarters aboard the destroyed Endeavour had been adorned in much the same way as his current ones were. He had never been a man with many possessions, and cared little for "things", aside form his plants. His bedroom was similarly barren of decoration, sporting only a single succulent plant in a small pot on his desk.

As Cross moved over to the shelves set into the wall of the living area, half of which sat empty, he reflected that the only person who had been in his quarters so far was Kai. It wasn't that Cross avoided having people come to his quarters. It was just convenient to meet people elsewhere, and if that had the added benefit of avoiding comments on the lack of decoration and "personal touch" in his quarters, then all the better.

Cross reached up, slowly and ever so gently running a finger along the spike of the Vulcan orchid as he inspected the buds that were forming along it. It would likely be blooming within the next week. For a moment Cross felt a pang of regret at having taken the plant without authorization. Though the offence, if it were to be discovered, would be minor or negligible, he felt almost guilty that he had removed the plant and denied others a view of the flowers when it bloomed. There were plenty of other orchids in the arboretum, however, and Cross quickly dismissed the thought just as the doors chimed.

Cross sighed, letting his hand fall away from the orchid as he considered simply ignoring the door chimes, leaving the counsellor standing in the corridor. Cross wondered how long the Vulcan counsellor would stand there, pushing the button repeatedly. The idea of leaving the man standing out in the hall caused a smile to creep over Cross' features, though eh made sure to wipe the grin away before he turned to face the doors.

"Come."

The doors hissed open, revealing the person standing in the corridor beyond. The Vulcan counsellor was shorter than Cross by a good 10cm, with a darker complexion and close-cropped black hair.

"Counsellor Seren, thank you for agreeing to meet me here." Cross said, stepping forward with the intention of offering to shake hands before realizing that the Vulcan would probably not return the gesture. He stopped after the first step, instead gesturing to usher the counsellor inside. "I'll admit, I'm not a fan of medical facilities." Cross glanced sideways at the coulsellor. "Or counselling offices. Please, come in."
Lt. Cmdr. Cross     [Show/Hide]Ensign Isel "Foxfire" Nix     [Show/Hide]PO1 Scruffy LeBlanc      [Show/Hide]

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Re: Day 05 [1300hrs.] Egos, Emotions & Expletives
Reply #1
[Ensign Seren |   Lt.Cmdr. Cross' Personal Quarters | Deck 10 | USS Theurgy ]
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Seren walked in front of his patient's door 193 seconds before the scheduled time. He had no habit of arriving early or late for his appointments, but the last few days had been... chaotic, to say the least, and Seren was still adjusting. Flexibility. It wasn't a talent that Vulcans were commonly associated with. Neither was it an adjective Seren was usually described with. But it was one that Seren was striving to improve in that regard, something that would enhance his therapist skills and, at the same time, challenge his self-control. It would strengthen him. And if he needed anything at that time, it was to make his control more solid, more steely.

So, he simply waited. He spent the first 97 seconds checking the state of his garments. A traditional tunic, bronze coloured, with a wide dark neck that concealed part of the carbon lattice that ascended from his collar since his surgery. Square shoulders, almost at a right angle, which hid the slenderness of his silhouette, his youthful air. Long sleeves, up to the wrist, but this time he had opted not to wear gloves. The tunic ran over his knees, revealing darker inner tunic, trousers of the same shade and high, polished boots. The only piece that broke the symmetry of his attire was the Starfleet combadge, pinned in the left side of his chest. Everything was perfect. Impeccable.

During the few seconds left before the agreed time, Seren devoted himself to skim the patient's file, in a padd he pulled out of a hidden pocket in his jacket. Lt.Cm. Cross, former vulcan-bajoran hybrid. Reasigned or 'Corrected' to full vulcan by the aliens known as 'Savi'. Ablation of an upper limb at elbow level, replaced by non-standard synthetic prosthetic. Cosmetic surgery to restore his hybrid features. Survivor of a Borg attack that destroyed his original vessel and that killed or assimilated most of his former crew. In the corridor's solitude, Seren allowed himself to wrinkle his nose in a minuscule rejection grimace. The report proceeded dozens of pages further, recounting the officer's previous traumas and behavioral problems, although it seemed that the tactical officer had been labeled as ' functional'. But that wasn't what irked the counsellor. It was the lack of commitment to his vulcan background that distilled from his dossier. Such illogical behaviour. He inhaled deeply only once, and removed the annoyance from his mind, as a result of the parallels between the Lieutenant Commander and Kiriel. It would be something he should ponder later, in his retreat and meditation time. Now he had a job to do.

Without further ado, and precisely at the arranged hour, Seren pressed his hand against the panel adjacent to the door. In the room on the other side, the synthetic sound of the doorbell rattled. The counselor waited patiently for several minutes, but, not receiving an answer, he repeated the motion. Seren kept waiting, as time dilated even more without an answer. When he initiated the gesture to repeat the call again, for a third time, the voice of Lt. Cm. Cross finally arose and the door unlocked in front of Seren with a hiss. If he felt any displeasure from being forced to wait arbitrarily, it was not reflected in his face or attitude. It wouldn't be the proper behavior for a counselor.

"I come to serve, Lieutenant Commander" saluted Seren, raising his hand in the traditional greeting of their people. A traditional vulcan greeting that Seren favored when on duty as opposed to the more widespread 'live long and prosper'. In turn, Cross had stepped forward with one hand in front of him, in a very human display. The former hybrid fixed the gesture immediately, transforming it into a wave that invited the counselor in. Even so, Seren's eyes had not missed that detail, and remained fixed on the hand he had been offered a few seconds more than was appropriate. The tactical officer offered him some pleasentries and then admitted his discomfort with the medical facilities.Seren nodded briefly. That is why he practiced his profession where he was needed, rather than in a controlled environment, as would have been more appropriate. A sacrifice for patient comfort. A method of making them more comfortable during the session, when the issues they were dealing with and the counselor's imperturbability made most patients uneasy. Seren was aware that his demeanour, full restrained, made some emotional beings discomfortable so he had to pay a price for maintaining the balance between who he was and his work. "The place where the session takes place is irrelevant, as long as it takes place, Sir" he affirmed in a neutral tone as he entered the room.

The first inspection of the room revealed that the quarters barely deviated from the standard. Only a handful of plants and a vulcan meditation lamp. Frugal and practical. Seren approved this decoration choice internally and halted his steps in the middle of the main room. It was inappropriate that he take a seat without the host's invitation, so he intertwined his fingers in front of his chest and then turned to face Cross. "This is a mandatory session, but I will only make an initial diagnosis according to the traumatic events you have been subjected to in recent weeks, Sir" he explained succinctly. A mere formality for the benefit of his patient, in case that, like Carrigan Trent, he was an antagonistic and suspicious patient. The prospect of dealing with a second patient like Trent on a daily basis because of his refusal to cooperate was not appealing for Seren. As he recalled the last session with the intelligence officer, Seren's fingers twitched a bit over the back of his hands. He expected the man in front of him not to behave as pathologically as his other patient did. It was something he could condone from a human, but it was reprehensible in a Vulcan. As censurable as he had found Kiriel's behavior so many years ago.

Seren scrutinized his patient's face without blinking for some time. At least this former hybrid resembled little to his long-lost relative. " I require to hear your experience since your genetic reassignment, Sir," he asked after a long analysis of Cross's facial features.

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Re: Day 05 [1300hrs.] Egos, Emotions & Expletives
Reply #2
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Personal Quarters | Deck 10 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Numen
[Show/Hide]Counsellor Seren gave the impression of the good-boy Vulcan, logic and impassive monotone through and through. No doubt he would consider Cross to be impulsive, emotional and illogical. Cross also had no doubt he would consider the counsellor to be a pain-in-the-ass automaton. Cross reminded himself that, as long as he could keep his temper in check, he should be able to get through this mandatory counselling without issue. He had certainly had his fair share of counselling, between his rehabilitation and the Dominion War.

Seren went on to convey that the setting of their sessions was irrelevant, and that he would be making an initial diagnosis of Cross' "trauma" which he had suffered in recent weeks. He spoke in just the sort of matter-of-fact tone that Cross had expected, his words succinct and each delivery concluded with the word "Sir".

How very proper of him...

Seren then stated, in the exact same tone, that he "required" to hear of Cross' experience following his genetic reassignment. Sir. All the while he had been staring at Cross, studying him, probably judging him.

Oh, Vulcans love their little judgements, don't they? Cross thought to himself, suppressing the urge to scowl at the counsellor. Cross reminded himself that he had to go through the counselling, that it was mandated following the events of the Versant. Hell, it would have been mandated with the destruction of the Endeavour alone, without all the genetic tampering and fighting and running for their lives aboard the Savi dreadnought.

"Well, I require that you stop calling me 'Sir' for the duration of this session." Cross finally spoke, his voice low and sounding particularly grumbly. "I don't need my personal quarters to be inundated with pomp and formality." Cross regarded the counsellor with unblinking pale eyes for a long moment, wondering for a moment if he had made a mistake asking the counsellor to conduct the session in his quarters.

Too late to think about that now...

Sighing, Cross gestured with his metal hand, the prosthetic drawing Seren's attention to one of the chairs at the small dining table in the corner. "Grab a chair, if you'd like to sit."

Unless that stick up your Vulcan ass will make it uncomfortable...

"I hope you don't mind if I sit on the couch." Cross didn't wait for the counsellor's response, turning away and seating himself on the couch cushions and making himself comfortable. He waited as Seren got himself situated, arms crossed over his chest and pale eyes following the Vulcan's movements. Once Seren was settled, Cross finally spoke again.

"So, you require to hear of my experience following my correction?" Cross said, taking a deep breath. He knew he may as well get started rather than trying to argue or sidetrack the counsellor. Being a poster-boy Vulcan, Counsellor Seren would like not be deterred from his efforts no matter what Cross tried. Cross had been stuck in enough counselling sessions to know that counsellors were like the fucking Borg. Resistance was futile. "Well, counsellor, my experience following my correction have been... interesting." Cross uttered the final word through gritted teeth, having grown tense as he thought back to the events aboard the Versant. "Following my correction, I awoke in a cell with two other survivors of the Endeavour, a security officer called MacGregor and a Junior Lieutenant from Tactical, my own department." Cross' mouth turned up at the corner, giving him a bemused expression, "Drake had always been a pain in the ass. He had the habit of calling me 'Boss', which never ceased to get on my hajari nerves." The bemused expression faded form Cross' features and the moments that followed played through his head. "After I regained consciousness and found myself a pure blooded Vulcan, hoja lid nulansu yavah isanau." Cross paused for the briefest of moments, hoping the comment, delivered in Kardasi but easily translated by their combadges, would elicit some sort of reaction from the Vulcan who sat opposite him. "As it turns out, despite the fact that Vulcans appear to have the emotional equivalent of a wet towel, I wasn't prepared for the intensity of my newly altered self." Cross sighed and let his arms relax, then uncrossed them and interlaced his fingers, letting his hands rest in his lap. "I'm sure you've read my file. It's always been a struggle for me to control me anger. But this was like nothing I'd dealt with. The Klingon, MacGregor, well, she ended up being sedated by the Savi after becoming enraged. I was barely holding myself togethers, and I was afraid I'd hurt the others if I lost control..."

But he had lost control. Drake, has in a misguided attempt to sooth his Vulcan boss who was only holding on by a thread, had chosen his words poorly. Cross paused in his narrative as the memory played out in his mind.

Quote
"Boss?" Drake said. "Try to calm yourself. Breathe. Relax. Try to relax."

He never thought he'd see himself trying to attempt to calm a berserker Vulcan, but Gideon was always a smooth talker, even more so since he grew up. It added to his handsome looks. He hoped he can get away with it before Cross loses control.

"I know it seems like a new experience for you," he said. "We both may no longer be half-Bajorans, but I know the feeling. Calm yourself, relax."

Before Cross knew what he was doing, he had lunged at the now-Human Drake, his hands finding purchase on the man's shoulder and neck. "<How could you possibly know?>" Cross growled, unaware that he was speaking in Cardassian, his primary language. "<What is it you think you know?>" He snarled, his eyes bulging in anger as each word grew more menacing, "<STOP TELLING ME TO RELAX!!>" As Cross roared the final words, he turned and heaved Gideon Drake, the strength he displayed following his correction surprising even him. Drake was sent soaring across the cell, striking the wall with a dull fleshy thud before crashing to the floor. Cross surged forward again, seeing red and well beyond rational thought at this point, his hands seeking Drake's throat.

Sighing, Cross pressed on. "As it turns out, I did. I threw Drake across our cell, and then tried to kill him." Cross shook his head, ashamed at the memory. However annoying Drake had been, he hadn't deserved that. "The only thing that save him was the hajari Savi beaming him to a different cell. I was going to kill him with my bare hands." Cross raised his gaze, which had been focused on his clasped hands, and stared at Seren with a neutral expression. "If Drake just telling me to relax made me try to kill him, how to you sit there like a hajari statue when I talk about Vulcans having sticks up their asses? Doesn't it bother you? Doesn't that just make you want to twitch an eyebrow in annoyance?" Cross leaned forward, keeping his hands clasped as he braced his elbows on his knees. "Come on, counsellor Seren. You can't tell me you feel nothing. I know the kind of rage a Vulcan is capable of." Cross gave Seren a broad grin, the smile lacking any kind of warmth, instead conveying an impish tone of mischief. "Just between you and me. You know that hate, that rage, don't you?"

Cross was enjoying himself for a moment, attempting to needle to Vulcan Ensign into some display of annoyance, some twitch, some tiny tick to announce to the world that Cross was getting to him. These counselling sessions may be mandatory, and though he had little doubt that Seren would draw serenity from the stick which no doubt resided in his anus to remain cool and passive throughout Cross' taunting and direct Cross back to the topic at hand, but that didn't mean Cross couldn't have a bit of fun poking the bear.

Kardasi:
Hajari - Fucking
Hoja lid nulansu yavah isanau - Absent the stick up my ass
Lt. Cmdr. Cross     [Show/Hide]Ensign Isel "Foxfire" Nix     [Show/Hide]PO1 Scruffy LeBlanc      [Show/Hide]

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Re: Day 05 [1300hrs.] Egos, Emotions & Expletives
Reply #3

[Ensign Seren |   Lt.Cmdr. Cross' Personal Quarters | Deck 10 | USS Theurgy ]
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Attn:  @Fife

Cross spoke after a time where both studied their respective facial features, and assessed each other. To the counselor's astonishment, the first thing the patient requested was that courtesy should be put aside, as he would hate to see his rooms tainted with such behavior. The Vulcan cringed innerly, but tried to keep his features impassive, no matter how unreasonable that request was, Seren was in someone else's chambers, so it wasn't in his control to impose the way they should interact. No matter how absurd Cross' demand was, he had to comply with his requirements. He had to push his adaptability to the limit. But Seren wouldn't refer to the patient as 'Cross'. He had read in his file the origin of such epithet. Crossbreed. It was a mere descriptive word, not a real name. Something he could accept when the Liutenant Commander was still an hybrid, but that at the current moment (and even though Cross had decided to restore his features their original hybrid traits) was untrue. It was unworthy of a Vulcan. Seren's whole cultural heritage prevented him from referring to another Vulcan in that way. At least describing him as 'Rish-ha-vel' would have the advantage of being a word in their mother language. Or the language that would have belonged to both of them if not for the unusual place where Cross had been raised, as his file indicated. No. Seren couldn't be so improper. For several seconds, Seren reflected on the most adequate way to address his patient. Maybe he could just call him 'Tra-lan'. It was a fitting description, but it came too close to the word the patient had banned. In addition, his combadge's UT might give him a translation of the term, which could be problematic. Finally, after digging for a while in the most obscure corners of his memory, the ensign recalled an ancient name, one that appeared in Surak's writings, in a particularly cryptic parable. However, the meaning of the name was straightforward, adequate, and better described the current 'Cross' being than the name he had chosen to use to reference himself. A logical and appropriate solution to the dilemma in which Seren was involved.

"All right, Lyras" he eventually agreed, as he moved away from the former hybrid to take the chair that the patient had pointed out for him while the Commander settled on one of the couches. The counsellor studied the seat indicated for him for a moment, glanced to where Cross had lazily huddled and then looked back at the chair. After depositing his padd on the table (exactly 15 cm from the edge of the desk, just centred on one side) Seren took the seat and positioned it so that it faced the tactical officer forward, but kept the table right between them. Before he sat down, the Vulcan smoothed every almost imperceptible wrinkle in the cushion and shook the tiny dust specks off its surface. Only then did Seren occupy the chair, being especially careful that his posture would only adopt ninety or forty-five degree angles. Despite the Lieutenant Commander's insistence on maintaining an informal atmosphere, the counsellor refused to let himself be dragged along by that lack of discipline. It was an unnecessary breach of protocol. Yet it suited Cross's attitude, he could see him prickle every time his pale blue eyes leaned on him. It was clear that he former hybrid had little love for counselors. Or perhaps for Vulcans. Seren pushed the padd in front of him and took note of this fact.

In the meantime, the tactical officer had started to speak anew, electing to repeat Seren's words almost point by point. This led the Vulcan to look away from his device and to study his patient's face again. He couldn't understand the logic of repeating his words. Hadn't his request been explicit enough? Seren was used to chose his words with care in order to avoid any ambiguity, which meant that the communication problem wasn't his but the other man's problem. Perhaps Cross intended to be disrespectful, possibly using that unproductive form of expression known as 'sarcasm,' a way of disrespecting him in a disguised fashion. Or maybe it was an early symptom of a mental illness. Given the mental and physical tampering he had undergone, the counselor couldn't discard it, so he wrote down his doubts in the padd to reevaluate them once he had more information about the patient.


As if this new input in Seren's records had pulled an invisible string, Cross began to narrate the events he had endured in the Versant. It was a recapitulation quite similar to what Seren had read in his file, but the emotional load in his voice's inflections, the way in which his non-verbal language shouted the tension induced by the remembrance of the events, the silences when the patient was immersed in his memories were much more revealing than the words themselves. All this offered him an invaluable knowledge about the emotional state of the former hybrid, a way to start learning more about his patient. However, Seren couldn't help but blink each time Cross peppered his speech with swear words or kardasi phrases. They slowed down his comprehension of the speech until the UT transmitted the meaning. "Repress the use of adjectives with sexual connotations. Their usage is unnecessary and there are more suitable descriptors and verbal intensifiers to enrich your speech," he said in a neutral tone. Seren wasn't scolding his patient, it wouldn't be logical. He just reminded him that there were better alternatives available.


The Lieutenant Commander, in turn, kept rambling about the intensity of Vulcan emotions and how he had been surprised by their magnitude when he had felt them for the first time, even though his previous experience with other Vulcans had taught him ( wrongly ) that they were emotionless. " The self-restraint with which we as members of the Vulcan race behave is the result of a life devoted to discipline, meditation and the pursuit of logic," Seren remarked briefly. " Subduing those emotions without training and the right environment can be especially strenuous, Lyras," the counselor stated. Seren doubted that Cross had mastered that discipline in the short time it had been a full-blooded vulcan. For a hybrid raised on Vulcan it would have been difficult. For someone like him, raised like a savage, it would be virtually impossible. Seren had some reasonable doubts about whether Cross would ever be able to suppress his emotions, or was destined to be some sort of V'tosh ka'tur.

Nevertheless, he decided not to voice those concerns out loud, as his patient had proceeded with his narration, and at that time was in the process of describing how he had attempted against the life of a subaltern. "This attempt to murder crewman Drake was an extreme reaction, but understandable given the shock of having to face the intensity of Vulcan emotions for the first time, Lyras," Seren tried to appease him. "The stress ypu have endured, coupled with the shock of the Correction and your lack of adequate self-control techniques make your reaction easily understandable. Since your emotional outburst had no casualties you shouldn't feel guilty for it, but it is a cautionary example of the need to repress those newly acquired emotions". He explained calmly as he laid the Padd on the table and intertwined his fingers in front of him. "I suggest that you study the convenience of being helped to acquire the proper techniques to control yourself. I can instruct you myself or provide you with a list of other senior vulcans on board who can offer you more extensive experience about those skills," the counsellor advised. Despite his unworthy and continued display of emotions, the former hybrid seemed functional enough for everyday life, but that knowledge wouldn't be superfluous, the counselor reasoned.

At that moment, as if he had had a glimpse of Seren's mind, Cross chose to verbally challenge him while he smiled broadly. The sight of such a display of emotion on a Vulcan face disturbed Seren deeply, more than the words themselves. Not for the defiance as such, but for how that grin reminded him of Kiriel. The ghost of her brother's face overlapped on the patient's hybrid features and Seren required all his will to keep his face unmoved. The counsellor remained quiet for ninety-four seconds, as he regained control over his own feelings and worked out a suitable response for Cross. "I received an exceptionally traditional upbringing at a very early age, which allowed me to learn to repress my emotions and disconnect myself from them as soon as they began to develop thanks to the use of Surak's Teachings". he explained calmly. Cross' isolation from his Vulcan cultural heritage would make him difficult to understand what it meant to have grown up in T'Karath Sanctuary. In one of the places that taught the way to purge all emotion and prepare oneself for the Kolinahr. " The way in which my matriarch raised me grants me an advantage over other Vulcans educated in a different Surakian tradition, since for me it is more natural to disengage from my emotions than to let myself be carried away by them." He explained in a very simplified fashion. That little hint would be more than enough for Cross to realize that Seren couldn't fathom the emotional intensity he had experienced. His interior was an emotional wasteland that he didn't want to discuss and that was counterproductive if they had to maintain a strict therapist/patient relationship. Seren simply was as he was. "Despite this privilege, I can understand the struggle you live," he added so that his patient would feel an empathy that Seren could not experience. A trick learned under Hathev's tutelage.




Vulcanusu

rish-ha-vel → Crossbreed
tra-lan  →   Lieutenant Commander (Starfleet)
Lyras → given name from Golic Vulcan 'lesh zherka hasu' meaning "being who carries emotion"
V'tosh ka'tur  → Vulcans without logic. Anyone who disagreed with the ancestral vulcan teachings
Kolinahr → vulcan ritual that purge all the vestigial emotions in an individual

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Re: Day 05 [1300hrs.] Egos, Emotions & Expletives
Reply #4
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Personal Quarters | Deck 10 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Numen
[Show/Hide]Cross had initially ignored the name counsellor Seren had decided to apply to him in lieu of his rank. The counsellor had begun to refer to him as Lyras, and while Cross himself spoke not a lick of the Vulcan language, he was surprised to find that the universal translator failed to find a comparable word as well. Cross decided to ignore the name the counsellor had given him, though part of his mind wondered why the counsellor didn't call him by his name.

Bloody Vulcans...

When the counsellor requested that he "repress the use of adjectives with sexual connotations", Cross only grinned. While poor, prim counsellor Seren might consider the use of such expletives unnecessary, Cross himself though them a rather fun and efficient way to express himself. As such, he chose to disregard the counsellor's request, deciding that if Seren didn't enjoy the more colourful aspects of Cross' speech... well...

Well, then the counsellor could just go fuck himself, couldn't he?

In truth, Cross could very easily leave the more colourful aspects of his speech out, though he had no inclination to do so solely for the counsellor's benefit. Quite the opposite in fact, as Seren's request only served to encourage Cross to continue with the use of such expletives. Not that Cross needed much encouragement. He rather enjoyed cursing, opting to do so in Kardasi because he considered Kardasi a foul language, well suited for foul words. Outwardly, the only reaction Cross gave to Seren's request was a rather ingenuous grin.

"I shall keep that in mind, counsellor." Cross uttered quietly, ensuring that the answer was as non-committal as possible.

Seren moved on, deciding to inform Cross of the strenuous nature of Vulcan emotional suppression. According to Seren, the oh-so-superior Vulcans achieved the ultimate goal, having the emotional equivalency of a fucking rock, through self-discipline, meditation, and the pursuit of logic. Cross couldn't help but notice that Seren left out the part where they had their serenity stick inserted, though he supposed that that particular piece of knowledge might be some sort of secret, told only to those who were about to receive a serenity stick of their very own. Cross heard Seren refer to him as Lyras again, and wondered briefly what exactly the counsellor what calling him. A muscle in Cross' jaw twitched, the only outward sign of his growing annoyance, yet he remained silent on the matter as Seren continued.

Seren proceeded to explain that Cross' attempts to murder Drake had been an extreme reaction, but somehow understandable given the intensity of his new Vulcan emotions. Cross looked at Seren in wide eyed disbelief, unsure of how a counsellor could so calmly explain away Cross' attempt to murder the Human with his bare hands. He'd hated Drake, just in that moment, the man's nattering and rambling and his annoying habit of calling Cross "boss". Cross had hated him, and had wanted nothing more than to see him dead. Cross still remembered the sensation, the pure unhindered rage, the bloodlust, as he had lunged at the Human, his hands only centimeters away form the man's throat when the Savi recued him, beaming Drake away to a different cell. Seren went on to state the necessity for Cross to repress his emotions.

There it is... Cross though to himself, his eyes narrowing at the counsellor. He wants to make me into a good-boy Vulcan.

Seren went on to advise Cross that he ought to study the proper techniques to control himself, initially offering to instruct Cross himself or, alternatively, to provide Cross with a list of Vulcans aboard the Theurgy who would be able to do the same. Cross' mouth contorted into a strained smile, the almost comical expression just barely holding back the laughter which was fighting to escape him. The idea of Seren teaching him to be a calm, boring, good-boy Vulcan when he naturally grated on Cross' nerves so much was amusing, to say the least, the also utterly unrealistic.

The counsellor then went on the explain to Cross about his childhood and how he had been taught to suppress him emotions form the moment they began to manifest, thanks to the wonderful teachings of Surak. Despite this piece of information he had just given Cross, he then went on to claim he could understand the struggle Cross was going through.

The laugh did escape Cross that time. The laugh tore from Cross, loud and barking, as he shook his head with a mixture of shock and disbelief. The counsellor had just admitted that he had learned to control his own emotions from the very beginning, and so could not possibly know what Cross was experiencing. While a small part of Cross suspected the statement had been a plot to build a sense of relatability with his patient, the larger part of Cross simply could not let the statement pass unchallenged. Cross gave himself a moment, letting the laughter subside before he finally spoke.

"Oh, you understand, do you counsellor?" Cross' voice was quiet, his tone not quite menacing, though far from friendly. "And what is it exactly that you think you understand?"

Cross took a deep breath in through his nose, his jaw clenching for a moment as he fought to control himself. He let the breath out slowly, the air being expelled forcefully through his nostrils. Forcing himself to relax his tense jaw, he spoke again, his voice more heated than before. "Having grown up with someone teaching you from the very beginning to supress your emotions, ensuring all the while that you had the emotional range of a hajari kuna, you think you can understand what I feel?" Cross chuckled again, though the sound held not a hint of mirth. "Growing up among your precious fellow Vulcans, you think you can empathize with my experiences?" Cross remained perfectly still as he spoke, still leaning forward with his elbow resting on his knees. His hands remained clasped in front of him, organic hand clasping the prosthetic tightly, and he regarded the counsellor sitting across form him with a neutral expression tinged with a dark anger.

"I grew up as a hajari lab experiment. I wasn't raised as a child, but as a curiosity. I was a hajari plaything for the hajari Cardie scientists, nothing more than a hajari lab rat to them!" Cross sperated his hands, worried that, in his anger, he would grip his organic hand with his prosthetic. He'd had numerous problems with the prosthetic, and wouldn't have been surprised if he'd crushed his remaining hand with it by mistake. Once his biological hand was safely removed, he allowed the cybernetic one to ball into a tight fist, his organic hand instead gripping the metallic surface of the wrist. As he continued, his voice grew more heated, the words coming out in somewhat of a growl. "You were taught to control your emotions? I was taught fear. I was taught pain." Cross' lips tightened, the angered Vulcan having to fight to stop himself baring his teeth at the counsellor. "You learned discipline and logic. I was taught that I wasn't even worthy of a name, much less an education! That I was less than an animal in the eyes of my keepers." Cross' anger had been mounting throughout his growled speech, and had reached the point where he could no longer prevent his lips from curling back into a hateful snarl. "I was tested, tormented and tortured, all for the curiosity of the hajari scientists who made me!" Cross' voice had risen throughout his rant, to the point where it now bordered on yelling. "So tell me, counsellor, please! Tell me how you understand my struggle." Cross' eyes bored into the counsellor's as he took several ragged breaths. Cross knew he had lost his temped, he knew that he should not be behaving in such a manner, especially given his new station, but Seren had sent him spiralling downward into anger, the idea that someone with such a different upbringing, such a polar opposite in circumstances, could somehow understand what he was going through... well... it was had hardly conducive to calm discussion.

Cross closed his eyes, taking several slow, deep breaths. He tried going through a simple mental exercise, one taught to him by the only Vulcan he had ever truly trusted. During his rehabilitation, K'Shem had taught him basic techniques to control his turbulent emotions to the point that, while not in the least bit suppressed, Cross would be able to retain enough control to prevent himself lashing out at others. Since his correction, the basic technique had proven less effective, though it had still provided small aid on occasion. This was one such occasion, as Cross had been envisioning himself lunging for the other Vulcan in the midst of his ranting.

Finally Cross let out a long sigh, his shoulder sagging. He raised his gaze to regard the counsellor with a mixture of annoyance and dismay. "Forgive me, counsellor," he said in a low tone, though it held no hint of remorse, "but I don't believe there is any chance that you understand what I've been through."

Cross tried to imagine the stark differences between them for a moment, not only in their upbringing, but in their emotional state as well. Seren, ever the good-boy Vulcan, appeared to be calm, cool and collected, unperturbed by Cross' outburst. Cross imagined the man's emotional state was akin to a serene pond, calm and smooth, undisturbed.

Cross' emotional state, by comparison, would be more akin to a hurricane.

"I will certainly take your... suggestion... under consideration, counsellor," Cross finally conceded, his eyes still dark and angry as they bored into Seren. He was loath to admit it, but there might be some merit to Seren's suggestion. Even Cross couldn't deny that he needed to do something to get his emotions under control, lest he wind up actually killing someone the next time he lost control. "Though I don't think you would be the best choice of tutor..."

Cross suspected that having to spend additional time with Seren beyond their counselling sessions might end poorly for the both of them. The fear he harboured of completely losing control, of hurting or killing someone in the process, well... he couldn't deny the merit of Seren's suggestion despite his feelings towards the irksome Vulcan.


Kardasi Translation:
Hajari kuna - Fucking rock
Hajari - Fucking
Lt. Cmdr. Cross     [Show/Hide]Ensign Isel "Foxfire" Nix     [Show/Hide]PO1 Scruffy LeBlanc      [Show/Hide]

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Re: Day 05 [1300hrs.] Egos, Emotions & Expletives
Reply #5
[Ensign Seren |   Lt.Cmdr. Cross' Personal Quarters | Deck 10 | USS Theurgy ]
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Despite his initial suggestion, Liutenant Commander persisted in his habit of seasoning his speech with profanity. If that were not inopportune enough, the fact that he persisted in using those words in kardasi only slowed down their conversation unnecessarily. Seren was well aware that it was a kind of provocation, a tantrum more typical of an immature individual than a high-ranking Starfleet officer. However, the counsellor had experienced such situations in the past. There were certain officers who loathed that someone they deemed as young and inexpert should have 'power' over them during the sessions. There were others who detested the idea of opening their minds and private experiences to other people, and reacted in the inverse way that any therapist sought. Finally, there was the group that considered Vulcan behavior disruptive and reacted belligerently to their mere presence. And, all in all, Seren tried to be the perfect example of a Vulcan. If Seren didn't pursue it, he might have sighed and shook his head at Cross's futile provocation. But the Vulcan didn't let himself be carried away by an annoyance that would bear the opposite outcome from what he had expected, so he simply kept staring at the Chief and let himself blink only once.

As the counselor expressed his perspective about Cross issues, he monitored his patient's physical reactions. At first, they were subtle: a slight tension in the jaw, a contraction of the pupils. For a well-educated Vulcan that would be inadmissible, but it was a praiseworthy attempt given Cross' hybrid nature. While this was no longer genetical at least it remained that way in the cultural context. Nevertheless, as Seren kept talking, the signs of emotion became more obvious and visible. It was clear that the substandard self-control he possessed was crumbling away by seconds, so he prepared mentally for the upcoming outburst.  It didn't take long before it was there, and as soon as the counselor finished speaking, Cross burst into a laugh that sounded hysterical and out of tune in the Vulcan's ears. Immediately afterwards, the tactical officer began to throw up a series of toxic remarks, exposing his disbelief at the counselor's statements. Such bewilderment puzzled Seren, even though his features didn't record that fact. Hadn't his words been logical and correct? Had he not established clearly the needs he had perceived in Cross? Cross' reaction was utterly irrational.

Notwithstanding his inner consternation, Seren kept his face unperturbed and still stared into Cross' pale eyes. But Seren's hands weren't so passive, and they pulled the padd up in front of him and unlocked the device, so he could take some notes on the patient's behavior and statements. Extremely informative for further analysis. Even more effective at concealing how his fingers twitched every time Cross exhibited more irrational demeanour, a more histrionic attitude. Seren needed to focus on the work he had to do there. He couldn't let himself be dragged along by the shameful urge that the patient aroused. He couldn't indulge that addiction. Not in that time. Not that same day. Perhaps the next one, if meditation and repose failed to relieve him of that shameful compulsion. So he sat there motionless. Outwardly undisturbed. And he observed. He listened. And he took notes, while controlling the slight tremor of his fingers. When Cross had finished his speech, the counselor was the perfect Vulcan model, calm and composed.

Seren refused to let the silence thicken in the room for long time. "Apologies are illogical and unnecessary, Lyras," he said in a neutral tone. Evaluating the emotional state of an individual as... passionate as the Liutenant Commander always carried the risk of a sudden meltdown. Not letting that phrase lingered for too long he move on to the next topic, so his patient didn't think his phrase was some sort of scolding. "If you choose another crew member as a mentor, I suggest that you contact Liutenant Commander Hathev, whose experience and intelligence are remarkable and can be extremely beneficial for you" he suggested. Certainly his former instructor was the most obvious choice for the task, although Seren had deep doubts about whether she would be able to instill mesure and self-control in Cross. While she was a professional with an enviable career record, her utter failure to nurture and educate Kiriel was something that made him wary of her ability to help Cross. It was quite clear that the experience with Kiriel and the lack of blood bonds could make her approach the assignment with Cross more rational and unemotional, employing the intellect that Seren had always admired in her. Furthermore, Seren was familiar with the rest of the Vulcans on board and no one else seemed as suitable for the task as she was. There had been some other vulcan arrivals with other crews that had joined while he was in cryostasis, but the counselor had not been able to evaluate them yet. If Cross was an example of such a new vulcan crewmembers, it was unacceptable to have his patient associate with another Vulcan without logic. So, in spite of her inadequacies and the long years he hadn't met her (with all the potential changes that could entail), Hathev was the most obvious choice.

"As for your most recent emotional outburst," he continued shortly thereafter. "In spite of your excepticism I can assure you that I have a basis for understanding it. Despite our obvious differences in experience, my job is to comprehend my patients and reach an understanding of their emotional state from a theoretical perspective when it cannot be empirically. Just as you have sharpened your skills to perform your duties, I have honed my capabilities to mine, no matter how alien it could be. My interest is to ensure your well-being and emotional stability and I will be able to serve to this purpose with all my skill. As unorthodox as it may appear to you," he asserted. His words resembled much of what he had said a few days ago, during his first session with Carrigan Trent. One of Seren's narrow eyebrows quivered barely noticeably as he recalled his most frequent patient. There were some disturbing similarities between both patients. Mainly stubbornness, the desire of get the upper hand over the counselor and an explosive emotional condition. Maybe what he was learning with one could help treat the other. Whatever the case, both patients were a test of patience. A task that the Vulcan knew he could overcome.

"I wish you to bear in mind that I have disclosed a personal experience in order to establish a clear basis for our interaction. You may not judge me under that sole revelation and the seven comma forty-four seconds that we have interacted. I have had ample access to your profile and have the analyses and conclusions of your previous therapists, but you have not had that privilege, which puts you in a less informed position than mine. This is as it should be since a patient-counselor interaction must keep a some distance.  This will lead to more effective therapy, but I can try a more... casual approach if that is more appropriate for you," he proposed. It wasn't the approach Seren would select, let alone with a vulcan-blooded patient, but Seren was open to adjusting within the limits of his capabilities.

"Now, going back to your lack of control after de Versant, I can relate to your experience since by having impeccable control over my emotions, the loss of control over them is much more disturbing," he explained before he took a longer pause than usual. It was evident that Cross was out of tune with his Vulcan nature and probably didn't know the details of his own new biology. The hardships they had to overcome when the mandates of their nature overwhelmed all logical reasoning. The Vulcan readjusted his position a little, awkward, as he remembered the first (and only) time he had been swept away by such mindlessness. " There are instances in which every Vulcan, despite their self-control, lost the battle against their emotions. But we shouldn't talk about those times," he said before he fell back into an uneasy silence. That would give Cross time to reflect and calm down. And it would allow the counselor to analyze his reaction and guess the depth of his patient's knowledge about his own biology.

After exactly one hundred and sixty-five seconds, the counsellor spoke once again. "According to your previous remarks, it is clear that your experiences among the Cardassians have a greater impact on your actual mental state than the most recent events you have undergone. Do you prefer that we guide the session to them or would you prefer that we conduct our talk about your encounter with the Savi?"

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Re: Day 05 [1300hrs.] Egos, Emotions & Expletives
Reply #6
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Personal Quarters | Deck 10 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Numen
[Show/Hide]Cross listened, calmer now, as Seren began to reiterate that it was his job to understand the emotional state of his patients. It was an amusing notion, that a Vulcan who was so obviously suppressed that the stick up his ass was likely compressed into a petrified stone would claim to understand the emotions of another being. Seren claimed it was his job. Cross' job was in the tactical department, but that didn't mean he knew how a torpedo felt as it was launched from the tubes and into the voice of space, rocketing towards it's target and it's ultimate destruction.

Seren went on to inform Cross that it was his interest to ensure Cross' emotional stability and well being, though Cross couldn't help but think that Seren himself was disrupting Cross' emotional stability, the ridged Vulcan's mere presence feeling irksome to the former hybrid. Despite this, Cross knew he had to undergo the therapy sessions, just as every survivor of the Versant must, and so he would endure.

He didn't have to like the man sitting across from him, though.

Seren continued with his Vulcan manner of speech, droning on about the fact that he had shared a personal experience in order to establish a clear basis for their interaction. Cross forced back a smile that threatened to creep over his features, wondering how much Seren considered a Vulcan learning to suppress their emotions to be a personal experience. Cross was sure it was very personal, to Seren and every other fucking Vulcan who thought they were a special little logical butterfly. As Seren went on to point out that he had access to Cross' previous files, where Cross had no such advantage, that Seren was better informed than Cross was, as was appropriate in a patient-counsellor relationship. Cross couldn't help but hear the words and think of it as a Vulcan form of a pissing contest. "I have more access to information than you." or "My logic is better than yours." or "My eyebrows are more ridiculous than yours.".

Bloody Vulcans...

Seren surprised Cross by offering to try a more casual approach to their therapy session. In truth, Cross wasn't sure what a Vulcan such as Seren would consider casual, but he was intrigued to find out.

"A casual approach?" Cross repeated the statement, still trying to wrap his head around it. A slight smile crept over his lips this time, bemused as he was to find out how casual would look on Seren. "That may be worth a try."

Seren steered the conversation back to the subject at hand, namely Cross' lack of control following the events on the Versant. Again, Seren insisted that a stuffed up little emotionless paperweight like himself could somehow relate to Cross' experience of total rage, the extreme polar opposite of anything Seren himself had experienced. Seren apparently though that such a loss of control would be disturbing.

Seren seemed to pause then, and it seemed to Cross as though he, Seren, King of the Vulcan logic, sire of serenity sticks, monarch of monotone, was suddenly hesitant to make his next point. Cross waited with bated breath, unable to resist the curiosity about what would make the counsellor pause so. He did not have to wait long.

"There are instances in which every Vulcan, despite their self-control, lost the battle against their emotions. But we shouldn't talk about those times."

As Seren fell back into silence, Cross stared at him with an incredulous expression. Was Seren trying to have the Vulcan equivalent of the sex talk with him? If Cross wasn't feeling such a great sense of disbelief, he would have laughed.

"I'm aware of Pon Farr, counsellor." Cross announced, opting to completely disregard Seren's statement that they shouldn't talk about it. A slight twitch at the corner of his mouth was the only hint of a smile that he gave. "You said you have access to my file. It should contain the few details that are known of my... conception." Cross leaned forward where he sat, hands clasped in front of him as his eyes locked on the other man's. Cross' eyes held no hint of warmth or kindness, but were cold and hard. "I may not be an expert in Vulcans, or how sex crazy they get, but I know the gist of it. The Cardassians in the camp I was born in had a Vulcan prisoner that was undergoing Pon Farr. They decided to conduct a little experiment, and threw him in a cell with a Bajoran woman." The corners of Cross' mouth hard turned down, his upper lip twitching as though threatening to curl into a sneer. Throughout the statement, Cross' voice was cold and impassive, his tone low and almost growling. "I was a result of that little... experiment. The scientists used to enjoy taunting me with the information when I got older, though I'd never met either of my parents." Cross' brows burrowed, turning his cold gaze into an outright scowl. "So tell me, if Vulcans are so superior, how is it that they have such a momentous flaw? If your emotional control is so superior, why is it doomed to break, turning you into a mindless, crazed sex fiend? Hmmm, counsellor?"

Cross rose from the couch then, moving to the replicator and ordering a coffee, not really caring if Seren attempted to respond to the stabbing remarks. Cross wasn't looking for the other man to attempt to justify the Pon Farr. As the coffee materialized, Cross lifted it and turned his head to look at Seren. "Would you like anything, counsellor?"

Having replicated a drink should Seren wish it, Cross returned to the couch and placed the beverages on the table. The former hybrid took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm slightly, before lifting his cup and sipping the dark liquid within. He then leaned back against the backrest of the couch, leveling a less heated gaze at Seren. The counsellor had remarked that it was clear that Cross' experiences among the Cardassians had had a much greater impact on the former hybrid's mental state than the more recent traumas. Seren went on to ask if Cross wanted the session to focus on that period, or continue with the Versant.

"Honestly, counsellor," Cross began, pausing to take another sip of his coffee as he considered the question. Seren was right, though Cross was loathe to admit it. His childhood spent as a curiosity for Cardassian scientists had certainly had a mouch more significant impact on him than the Versant had. "I think that perhaps my time among the spoonheads might be better left for another session." Cross' mouth twitched in the makings of another smile as he studied the counsellor, curios to see if his little racist remark would elicit a reaction. "I may be best if we focus on the Versant for the time being. It is, of course, the reason for out mandated sessions." Cross sipped his coffee, letting out an appreciative sigh before putting the yet steaming cup on the table. "Now, where was I?"
Lt. Cmdr. Cross     [Show/Hide]Ensign Isel "Foxfire" Nix     [Show/Hide]PO1 Scruffy LeBlanc      [Show/Hide]

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Re: Day 05 [1300hrs.] Egos, Emotions & Expletives
Reply #7

[Ensign Seren |   Lt.Cmdr. Cross' Personal Quarters | Deck 10 | USS Theurgy ]
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When the patient accepted his recommendation to proceed with the session in a more casual manner, Seren nodded in solemn agreement as acknowledgement of that fact. Indeed, in the way he indulged in the session mood change, Cross was apparently intrigued. An acceptable emotion within the parameters of their specie. Unfortunately, Cross' face contorted into one of those uncanny smiles to which he seemed fond. It wasn't an appropriate expression for a Vulcan, but given the former hybrid's volatile nature, a positive emotional reaction was preferred. If he was in a more conducive disposition to cooperate, perhaps the counsellor would manage to relent those emotional displays. In due time. Seren had no rush, he was aware that Counselling consisted primarily on patience. And he had a good dose of it. That day he just wanted to learn a little more about Cross, how he really was in the flesh. If he could establish a routine for future sessions, he would consider the session a success. And, since the patient was a tactical officer, the counselor had a clear way to proceed to that 'casual approach'.

However, there were other matters to deal with and Seren postponed that point for later, to move on to a more uncomfortable one. When the counselor finished talking, he observed his patient's reaction. It didn't take long. The way Cross adressed one of the biggest taboos on which Seren had grown up made him raise an eyebrow. It was a minuscule displacement, but one that disturbed his studied inexpressive semblance. He had a pretty rough idea of how Cross had been bred, but when he heard it expressed in such a crude and rough manner it was deeply disturbing. The counsellor had to use all his will to suppress further external displays of repulsion. First and foremost because of the levity with which Cross delved into details of one of the most deep-rooted prejudices in his education, and due to the visceral terms he was using. If Seren had less self-control than he had, he would have missed Cross' previous flourish metaphors and foul words.  However, yearn about something was an emotional weakness that Seren lacked. It was a demonstration of a misethical, poorly conceived experiment resulting in a outcome that gave few answers to the scientists who had designed it. It was evident that those who had 'conceived' Cross had only in their minds a momentary and personal satisfaction and not the greater good. Not even the goal of deepening knowledge of the Cardassian Union. They didn't do any scientific research, they only toyed like ignorant and capricious infants. An irrational attitude typical of primitive and unsophisticated minds, whose product sat in front of him, imperfect, illogical and incapable of understanding himself.

As soon as Cross had finished his speech, he rose to his feet, with his back towards the counsellor, to approach the replicator. Seren took advantage of that moment to close his eyes in pursuit of his own core. Of that inner stillness that guided his actions. By the time Cross spun to face him again, with a cup steaming between his hands, wondering if Seren wanted something to drink, the young vulcan had opened his eyes. His attention was focused on the padd in front of him again, where he took short notes. "A grapefruit juice would be adequate, Lyras" he replied. He had no habit of consuming food or drink in the presence of his patients, but he had to break that rule to give a more relaxed atmosphere to the meeting. "Three hundred and thirty milliliters, at thirty-two comma five centigrade grades" he specified. A vitamin-rich drink at a temperature below his body heat was the most appropriate.


While Cross proceeded to introduce his request into the replicator, Seren straightened his back even more, almost a statue carved in sandstone. "Pon Farr is the toll we must bear as specie after purging our society of the emotions that nearly destroyed us in the past. In spite of Surak's teachings and the logic ways, notwithstanding our enhanced mental and telepathic development through our self-discipline, we have not yet been able to rid ourselves entirely of the serfdom to biology. We have managed to transcend our forefathers and prevent our self-inflicted annihilation, while at the same time we have created a well-ordered and enlightened society. But that has come at a great cost," Seren explained. His voice had never shifted, calm and serene. However, for someone who knew where to look, they could notice the slightest curvature of his lips. The way his fingers rested on the padd, pressing it lightly, so that his hands didn't twitch. Seren was genuinely uncomfortable, but this was a lesson Cross must learn. Now, by choice or simply because he had no other option, the man in front of him was 100% Vulcan. And he had to know what that implied, in addition to his newfound inner turmoil. "It is a cost that, as a now biologically Vulcan, you will have to endure from now on. Like all of us do."

Seren welcomed the glass Cross placed on the table and sipped a small drink from it. If his movements weren't so smooth and flawless, it could be said that he had hurried them to rinse his throat, to remove an unpleasant taste from his mouth. However, the truth was very different. Seren was only acting as expected from an informal meeting. Just as Cross had requested. The very biology of his species could not disturb him. Notwithstanding how unlogical it was at times.

Once he had drunk a long sip, he placed the glass aside, so that this and the padd were aligned and equidistant between each other and the table edges. However, rather than remain seated, Seren stood up and headed towards the replicator himself. " I consider appropriate to delay an examination of your experiences among Cardassians for a future session. We will deal with that issue when you deem it convenient" He agreed while he entered the parameters in the device manually. Cross' experience before he was rescued by Starfleet was relevant since, although it wasn't his most recent experience, it still conditioned his behaviour and inhibited him from achieving inner peace. Cross might be 'functional' but he still had a long journey ahead before recovering from all the emotional wounds he had suffered. As the objects started to take shape in the replicator's alcove, the counselor summarized the latest data Cross had expounded. "The latest information you have provided was how you almost killed your subaltern, Gideon Drake, using your own hands, but that the homicide was not committed since your captors transported the human to a different holding cell". Seren took the game board and bags and placed them on the low table in front of the chair where Cross sat. It was a synthetic wooden board, with nineteen vertical and nineteen horizontal lines traced on its surface. The vertical lines were marked with letters, while the horizontal lines had numbers. Then, he placed one of the cloth bags in front of Cross. The Vulcan looked around before placing the second bag near the spot in the couch he had designated for himself, much closer to his patient, but at a convenient distance so that neither of them would touch the other unintentionally.

Instead of sat down, Seren walked to the table he had previously occupied and removed the glass and padd from its surface. "What technique did you use to recover your self-control after this incident? Did you require external assistance or did you do it by yourself? How long did you take to reassume ownership of your own actions? " he asked as he retraced his own steps back to the couch and, this time, sat on it. As in the chair, his posture was immaculate, his body angles impeccable and his clothes had the minimum wrinkles, which lined up perfectly parallel or perpendicular to each other. Once seated, he placed the glass and the padd on the table, reached for the bag and began to extract a series of round and white stones. When he had accumulated a dozen on the palm of his right hand, he used the left to align them next to the board, parallel to its edge, but without touching it. "If you don't remember exactly those events, proceed to recount the next experience you remember on board the Versant," he requested.



Seren's board
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Re: Day 05 [1300hrs.] Egos, Emotions & Expletives
Reply #8
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Personal Quarters | Deck 10 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @Numen
[Show/Hide]As Seren reminded Cross of what he had been in his narrative, Cross felt a pang of irritation at the other Vulcan's tone, or lack thereof. The monotonous drone with which the counsellor referred to Cross' attempted murder of one of his own crew was infuriating, though Cross clenched his jaw and forced the reaction down, wanting to prevent himself from attempting the very same actions towards the counsellor. As Cross forced his jaw to relax, the reflexive anger slowly passing, he realized Seren had risen form his seat and made his way to the replicator.

Thanks for asking first... Cross thought to himself, wondering just what the hell the pointy-eared bastard was up to. Cross looked on with a mixture of annoyance and incredulity as Seren returned to the table, now carrying two cloth bags and what appeared to be a game board. As Seren seated himself once more, this time choosing to seat himself on the couch, he began to extract a number of round white stoned from his own bag, placing them in a neat line parallel to the edge of the game board. Cross stared at the game board for a moment, recognizing it but finding himself unsure as to why Seren would have chosen this game in particular. Ultimately, Cross gave a shrug and reached for his own cloth bag, which he knew would contain stones much like those Seren was annoyingly arraying in a perfect line, though Cross' stones would be black in colour. Cross wondered for a moment if Seren was trying to make a statement with his choice of stones, perhaps attempting to convey that the good boy Vulcan's pristine logic and exquisitely lodged serenity stick were pure, whereas Cross' possession of such horrific traits as a personality or a sense of humour were the stuff of darkness.

Stuck-up little bastard... Cross grumbled inwardly as he grabbed a rough handful of stones and dumped them out of his hand an onto the table on his side of the board. A sinister grin spread over his face for a moment, though eh quickly schooled his face to a neutral expression before twitching his hand and setting the board askew, the edge furthest from him shifting and sending a number of Seren's stones out of their pristine alignment, and one of them spinning off the table altogether. Cross watched Seren for any sign of reaction, suspecting he would get none yet hoping for some sign that Seren was bothered by the misalignment of his pieces, some hint that the incident irked him. Some reaction that would indicate that the stick up the counsellor's logical ass had shifted ever so slightly.

"Oops..." Cross said, with not a hint of sincerity behind the word, a shit-eating grin spreading across his features like some Vulcan-Bajoran Cheshire Cat. "How clumsy of me..."

"As to how I regained control, the Savi tranquilized me. I don't know how long I was out, but when I regained consciousness I was still alone in my cell." Cross continued, enjoying the sight of Seren having to lean over and pick up the errant stone, the counsellor's pristine clothing bunching as he stooped to retrieve it. Cross found himself hoping that the knowledge would irk Seren, even if the man gave no outward sign of it. Cross hoped it needled at the man, that it cause some splinter of his serenity stick to break off, lodging itself somewhere uncomfortable. Cross hoped it hurt.

"I don't know how long I remained in my cell once I woke up, but eventually I was transported into a common containment area with the other abductees, and the Savi activated a hologrid to simulate the USS Enterprise-D. We were expected to follow the normal routine of a Starship until such time as the Savi wiped our memories and released us. That... didn't happen." Cross picked up one of his stones, tossing it into the air and catching it several times as he continued to recount his story. "The abductees didn't exactly follow the Savi's commands, and began plotting a mutiny against the holographic ship. We sued the telepaths to convey the plans, since the Savi were monitoring us. A Klingon, one originally from this ship, decided we should try a mind meld ot make plans. I had never performed one before, and tried warning him of the dangers, but her insisted, Hajari moron that he was..."

Cross paused for a moment, directing his attention to the game board and placing the opening stone before continuing. "Suffice it to say, the meld didn't go well, Khorin lashed out at me mentally, the meld broke, and both of us went berserk. I tried killing him, he tried killing me, then we were arrested by the holographic simulation's security. Then we killed them." Cross found the idea that he so calmly related yet another attempted murder to be somewhat funny, though he didn't allow it to show outwardly. The last thing he needed was for Seren to chastise him, possibly prompting further attempts to commit homicide.

"After that, the abductees launched their assault against the holo program, fighting their way to engineering and overloading the warp core to end the program. Then we attempted to free ourselves, and were beamed to a hidden location aboard the Savi ship by a sympathetic party who was working in league with Commander Tiran, who had escaped being recycled by the Savi. The hajari bulbous-headed bastards liquified people, and consumed them for nutrients." Cross' eyes narrowed then, and he levelled a cold gaze at the counsellor. "I swear, if you say that that's hajari logical I'll rip you hajari throat out."

"Anyway, we spent the night in the maintenance bay, and there was another incident with Khorin. He was being a dick, I tried to gouge his eyes out, he grabbed my dick... hajari Klingons..." Cross shook his head in annoyance, taking up his mug and sipping the coffee. "Then Blue... Commander Tiran, that is... well, she fell asleep on me, and I didn't know what to do, I was afraid to wake her up, so... I just sort of... left her there. Then I fell asleep on her... well..." Cross looked hurriedly up at Seren then, colour rising in his cheeks. "Not like that!! Nothing happened!!"


Kardasi Translation:
Hajari - Fucking
  • Last Edit: August 22, 2019, 12:03:38 AM by Fife
Lt. Cmdr. Cross     [Show/Hide]Ensign Isel "Foxfire" Nix     [Show/Hide]PO1 Scruffy LeBlanc      [Show/Hide]