Personal Log, Stardate 40963.31

Posted on 25 Aug 2020 @ 10:49pm by Lieutenant T'Char Le'el
Edited on 26 Aug 2020 @ 2:14am

The Vulcan opens her eyes slightly as someone touches the point of her ear, causing it to twitch slightly. The hand starts to move away, but she pulls it back, reaching up with her own hand to place the foriegn palm against her cheek. It’s warm, and comforting, and it causes her to relax back into a deep sleep. There’s a low rumbling that sounds a little like chuckling in response, the sound is:

”Hey, don’t get up, it’s alright. Rest up, I will see you later today.”

Her gut feels warm, centering on the area around her heart. It’s a strange feeling, a heat that tingles her nerves and seems to travel up and down her spine, but it’s not uncomfortable. It’s actually quite pleasant, but it fades quickly, and the absence of it makes her almost want to cry. T’Char rolls over in her bed to put an arm on the side she was facing away from, searching for the feeling again, but there’s nothing there but more blankets. She pulls them close, pressing her face into the sheets. The minty, perfumey smell is comforting, and it gives her a brief fix of that feeling in her gut again, but it’s just not the same.

“..Ashhh.. Ashaya.. fun vi' t'nash-veh kar-”

The Vulcan opens her eyes, to the great disappointment of having to see the empty pillow next to her head. She exhales through her nose and sits up. The console above her head reads the time as 0800 hours.

~

“Computer, begin personal log.”

T’Char sits at her desk in her comfort robe, and her hair looks slightly damp. It’s starting to curl away from it’s normally slicked back position against her skull. She uses a hand to pat it back into place.

“Stardate, 40963.31. I am still under orders to remain in quarters, but later I expect to hear from Commander Raj. She had requested a tour of Vulcan via the Holodeck, and..”

She furrows her brow slightly, raising one and lowering the other.

“...I am not certain if it was or was not, a direct order to do so. I do not wish to further alienate myself from responsibilities I already feel detached from, so I will comply with her wishes. Though I expect she will not find my homeworld..pleasant. Humans are notably susceptible to temperatures above 35 Celsius. The average temperature on Vulcan in the coldest months during the day are around there, perhaps I will program the simulation to take place in the winter. For her sake.”

The Vulcan sighs and crosses her legs as she folds her arms, leaning back into her seat.

“The logical assumption I can make is that she must have some ulterior motive to this exercise. Perhaps in regards to my.. behavior as of late. It would be logical for her to investigate further, being the commanding officer.”

T’Char bites her lip. “I.. am anxious to return to service as soon as possible. The inactivity has become a further detriment to my emotional imbalance. With the work I was able to focus on my duties, I could move forwards with the security of having a task to complete, but now I-”

She unfolds her legs to get up from her chair, but as she leans forwards to stand, she pauses.

“-I am… forced to reexamine my emotional imbalance constantly. It is disturbing, to look inwards and see such discordant feelings. I am not, fully in control, and I am beginning to realize that I may never be. That is a disturbing thought to have at the forefront of the mind each day.”

Standing up finally she makes her way to the replicator at the far side of the room. She stops to think for a moment, as a memory resurfaces. Hesitantly, her thumb taps a button, and a short buzzing sound fills the air as a tall glass of a faint, teal liquid appears on the shelf. She plucks it gingerly from the replicator pad and puts her mouth to the straw that came with the sheekuya na’na. It tastes orange and yet minty, and leaves a dry sensation on the tongue. Something she grew up drinking with her sister during the Vulcan heat waves of the summer, when they couldn’t go outside during the day. It’s the equivalent of making hot chocolate when it rains, and the drink holds a sort of nostalgia for most Vulcans. T’Char uses it to make herself feel more comfortable.

“I think that I will request to be placed back on active duty, even if such duties are limited. If for no other purpose than my own mental health. It will be a challenge to, open myself emotionally to the commander, but logically it is the only way in which I can communicate effectively to the Human.”

She nods in agreement with herself, if only to make the decision seem valid to her senses. Taking another sip of her traditional iced tea concoction, she slowly walks back to the desk, kicking the bottom of her robe with her feet.

“..Kyr was. Here, last night. for the duration of the shipwide night cycle, I should clarify.”

She glances up at her cot, still unmade. Her ears flush bright green and she bows her head quickly, scanning her tea.

“His initial purpose for visiting was to determine if I was ‘alright.’ Presumably because of the minor detonation incurred from the initial activation of my artificial candle, which I had replicated for use in meditation..”

Moving to the bed, she sits on a mound of blankets. There’s a faint trace of a minty aroma as she disturbs the sheets, and it’s not from the tea. She shakes her head to clear the thoughts rushing to the front of her attention, focusing on the console at her desk.

“We talked for a long time. About, many things. I expected him to be disappointed in me, and to reject me as his t’hy’la for the behavior that resulted in my containment. But, he was concerned, for my emotional well being.”

She turns the glass around in her hands, using her robe to wipe away the condensation.

The Andorian’s face softens at her in her mind, as he turns his face towards hers.
"We haven't been together for long T'Char but you should know this...I care deeply about you, when you hurt it also hurts me…"
His arms wrap around her shoulders to pull her into him. It’s like being wrapped in a blanket, her whole body suddenly feels warmer, and more relaxed.

Her eyes snap open and she pinches the bridge of her nose, trying to stay focused.

“His presence is balancing. I must have stated this before, many times in fact, but it is the truth. When I am near him, my emotional state is suddenly manageable, through means I cannot identify. There is… a sensation that I experience in his presence as well- it is an emotion but it is also a physical presence. I have not… felt it before, and with all honesty I cannot identify it.”

T’Char stands up from her bed to stride back to her desk, setting the tea down on the surface.

“It begins with a sort of heat I experience around my khaf-spol, like a kind of radiating nervous agitant. But it is not an unpleasant or uncomfortable sensation, rather like… the heat you experience from the sunlight after spending a long time indoors. Only, the sun is coming from my insides to warm my skin, as opposed to the rays approaching from above.”

She gestures with her hands while she speaks, trying to get her point across as her face travels through various emotional states, totally unregulated. The Vulcan plops into her desk chair to lean forwards in emphasis to her console.

“And this, this.. heat, at first seemed to move throughout my body unpredictably. But I have discovered it relies on proximity. When we are in physical contact, the heat centers in my khaf-spol and moves upwards to the front of my head, and to the area of contact. When we are apart, I find the heat in my chest, by the eshaf, and the vinem-pi’rala tightens with my spesek.”
She touches her throat and her chest with her fingers to point out the organs, her face a picture of worry. T’Char inhales to continue her expressive rant, but bites her tongue, releases her breath, and falls backwards into her seat, slouching.

“I do not have any explanation for the cause of this experience, regardless of my diligent record of the symptoms. The only common external factor is the presence of my Andorian.”

She frowns at her own slip of the tongue, sitting up straight.

“H-He is not, mine as in he, is his own person, I need to say. We are t’hy’la and that is a bond that is shared and not possessive- he is… his own person belonging to- I was merely stating that in my affections for him I consider that I-”

She exhales and puts her elbows on the desk, as her forehead lands in her palms. T’Char stares at the surface of her dura-plastic semi-transparent furniture with a sense of defeat.

“...If anything can be described as his or my own- it would be that he is k'hat'n'dlawa. A half of my soul. I am his more than he is mine.”

She shakes her head, disgruntled. “A term not used since before the Reformation, but an adequate one nonetheless. There is no logical sense to the feelings he seems to inspire. I cannot simply say it is ashau because that is not enough.”

Her hands drop as her head rises up to stare into her console screen.

“I doubt that he is… troubled, in the same way that I am. Andorians consider passion as a normal experience of life, to my knowledge. Our experience last night has- inspired a passion which is greatly unfamiliar to me. Perhaps I will ask him to join me again tonight. To discuss this matter.”

She raises her eyebrow at herself, judgmentally.

“In any case, I must prepare for the rest of the day. End of log.”

T’Char taps her screen to shut off the console. Somehow, just talking about him has created a sense of the sunlight in her stomach again. She sits with a hand on her solar plexus, and allows the warmth to travel through her body. For the first time in a while, she actually feels at peace with herself.