Posted by Civilian Isaria zh’Thavos (Head of Education and Culture) in A Lonesome Night at Home
OOC: My character development thread. :)
IC:

Thavos had always seemed one of the more composed of creatures that walked the streets. Her characteristic calm emanating form her body like the air of authority many others possessed. However, her aura did not command attention and it was not remotely an intention to turn all eyes upon her.

Instead, it was the constant flow of a serene calm. A plague ravaging every sense of emotional discontent within her mind, forcing forwards the ambient cool that was so peculiar for a creature which bore the disposition of an Andorian, in appearance, and whose blood ran through her veins with the imperialism of her people. Yet, that same nature never once met her eyes; it did not fill her smile; it did not find itself upon an ice laden heart. It was a quality to often submereged beneath a facade she held quite well. A skilled act intended to thwart what people saw and perceived of her. In all meaning of the word, she was a lair.. but not with the same intentions as those who were classified with such a demeaning name.

Yet, for what reason did she have for this act? What did an Andorian with a supposedly rudimentary background have to hide? A gentle giant with an air for pacifism, with a secret behind those grey eyes? Perhaps.. anything was possible.

---

A lazy evening called her home, her body unwilling to remove itself from the motionlessness it had assumed. Shoeless feet propped onto a stained glass table, she relished the feeling of the cold against the heels of her blue feet, which appeared almost violet in the calm haze of the darkening evening. Her back rested into the cushion of the couch, its comfort wrapping her in its gentle embrace, begging her never to stray from its companionship, wishing nothing more than her company, when she left for such long hours in the day.

Isaria was not exactly one of those women who enjoyed being a home body. She did not find joy in remaining plastered to her couch, as if some kind of immobile creature, whose attention was intended only for the moving rays of light upon the holographic projection of some drama-filled show. The sedentary life did not call to her, it did not fill her ears with the warm and happiness of a certain willingness. Instead, it only pushed her away, its inviting arms appearing nothing more than a prison for her body, where she would fall prey to its lazy and ineffectual ways.

Isaria imagined herself, even in dreams, roaming the universe. A vagabond without anything to tie her to a specific place or a certain person. The feeedom to do as she pleased without the boundaries of life weighing her down, seemed nothing more than an impossibility to the woman who had devoted her life to order and the constant routine of a colony whose nature was anything but mundane. Yet, even in the chaos of this small world, outside of reality, she could not help but find the world around her to be nothing but the same routine, each and everyday.

The words might change and the people might be strange, but the roads and the buildings, with each passing morning, always looked the same. Their lonesome faces glimmering in the sun to hide their depression for the fact they never had the chance to venture beyond that horizon, the one they were forced to stare at, without any comprehension of what might be possibly beyond it. Of course, it was absurd to describe a building in such away. But its metaphorical depression was a reflection of her how disaatisfaction.

Isaria wanted more with her life than to sit behind a desk, making certain the historical archives remained in tact. She wanted more than to type away at a computer, her sly hands going raw with the pressure of a twelve hour shift, a sin of her own commitment. They said, if you wanted something, you were going to have to search for it. Yet, Isaria loved her job, it pleased her to be able to contribute to the government of this colony- an amazing one at that, but it wasn’t enough. She didn’t think anything would ever be enough.

Perhaps one day, her wild heart would be tamed by the simpler things in life, such as the prospect of children and having a family of her own. However, in these days where she was still considered young for her species, she could not find herself wanting to settle down. The thought scared her, in every essence, to have to remain out with a single person for a single reason, for the remainder of her life. She wanted to experience the universe first hand, wanted to explore and test the limits of not only the environment around her, but also herself.

She, however, was her biggest enemy. Even in all of these dreams, she knew she could never bring herself to leave this place. With every hope and every will to head beyond this planet and travel into the expanse of the Stars, she could never bring herself to act upon them. For once they were created, they were destroyed by an entity as equally powerful as their creator: fear.

Fear for what, exactly? A dutiful question to ask.

Fear for the very thing that kept her grounded that evening, instead of roaming the world at her fingertips, searching for something new. Fear for something she had never the courage to say aloud. Fear for something she did not believe she could ever come. Fear.. fear.. fear. It was a demeaning creature, a face plastered with a melevolent smile, its clothes drenched in the fabled lies of good deeds and noble intentions. Fear was her controller. But why?

A sigh escaped her lips, produced from her chest which bore the weight of a secret she barely understood, herself. Pulling her feet from the table, she placed them before herself, her arms wrapping around them, until they were against her chest, her chin atop her knees. This position allowed her to feel security as heinous things plagued her mind, ridding it of its happiness. The event these shifts in emotion were leading to, happened to be rare. But when they did come, Thavos had learned to sit back and let it happen. There was nothing she could do in this battle against fear, this battle that had left her paralyzed before. There was nothing to say against something you could only remember as much as your doctor wanted you to.

Isaria Thavos
HoEC

Black. That was what she had expected— hoped to see the moment her eyes closed, her world shifting from reality to that of her own incredibly heinous mind. She pondered of the toxic information her brain might feed her, once more begging her to take her conscience between her hands and murder it, as a method of escape from the horrid hell she so often found herself with. Yet, she had not been met with the gracious void of limitless black, a perhaps scary notion to those who were not ravaged by the lucid claws of a notably vicious beast. Claws which had become the consequence of a past she did not even know.

‘I told you, Mariana. How many times must I prove to you that’s she is ready?’ Bits and pieces of a conversation she could not fully remember in a cognitive stance, played through her mind, as it had several times before. It was a continuous loop of words and phrases she could never put to faces, information she could never put to data, nor the events they had been intended for. A portion of her wondered, truly, what she had been before the awakening, a time period she had classified as the moment she awoke without a recollection of anything beyond those blinding white lights that had hung above her.

‘You are certain?’ The woman had asked. Yet, certain of what? Of what did she question? Of what did she need? Of who was this for? When could already answer one of those questions, subconsciously knowing the conversation had regarded her. ’I cannot have my prized steed be let from her containment, until I am certain her skills have been honed to perfection.’

’This “steed” has been genetically modified to suit what you require of her. We have finally shed her of whatever personality she had before.’ This was when her memory grew hazy, as if who ever had robbed her of these thoughts had intentionally left the recollection of her eavesdropping on this fateful day. As if it were a painful reminder to the truth that rested within her bones. The truth that proved Thavos wasn’t not so lovely as she tried to seem. ’She is superior to our other subjects, the only one not to face vast side effects from the drug. Of course, she has not yet been introduced to the outside world.. but the best is always saved.. for last.’

Isaria rubbed her forehead against her knees, trying to rid herself of the looping memory. What had they done to her? What had she been trained for? What additional genes did she possess? What kind of monster was she?

These existential questions weighed heavily upon her mind. She wished to know the answers to these fateful inquiries.. no.. she needed to know. But as much as her heard needed the restitution, her mind screamed in silence, begging her to leave the past where it belonged, behind her. Yet, a part of her could not let that happen. A part of her needed this, needed to know who she was, needed to know what she was.

But even in this need, she was afraid. Afraid of the truth breaking her far more than these demeaning lies had.

Isaria
HoEC