Posted by Civilian Jezem (Upstanding Citizen) in My Hot Blood’s Been Burnin’ (Tag Séan)(Part 2)

Posted by Lieutenant Séan Iven (Counselor) in My Hot Blood’s Been Burnin’ (Tag Séan)(Part 2)

Posted by Civilian Jezem (Upstanding Citizen) in My Hot Blood’s Been Burnin’ (Tag Séan)(Part 2)
Posted by… suppressed (2) by the Post Ghost! 👻
Time never stops and Jezem arrived the following week to his next appointment. Having known Jezem for as long as he had now, Séan could tell the Orion was out of sorts. The signs were subtle but there, discernable by his outward appearace and body language. To the casual eye the Orion appeared normal, dressed in his fine clothes and expensive jewlery but they lacked complete cohesion and theme. His hair left down, lacked style or adornments. Jezem himself seemed stiff and nearly what could be almost described as awkard but indefinate.

He took his usual seat and began to speak, “I’ve heard of humans describe a desire to pick at their scabbed over wounds. I only remember it because of how strange and alien it sounded. Why would anyone do that? Pick and prod at a wound still healing. Seemingly enjoying the pain and discomfort as they come back to it again and again until they worry the old skin and dried blood away to reveal the shiny new skin beneath.

“And I think. . . I’m begining to understand it now,” Jezem paused to lean forward, arms resting against the tops of his legs, “That wound I can’t help but come back to time and time again but won’t let heal. My oldest scar. . . The person that inflicted it is dead, has been dead for a very long time. Sometimes I wish she were still alive, just so I could kill her again. This time by my own two hands and not indirectly.” She haunted his dreams, calling the name of a dead girl, smelling like flowers in the spring. “But you need context first.

“When I was born my parents surrendered me to the government of the local merchant prince. I was placed in. . . I suppose you would call it a state run orphanage. There I was raised to be sold on the slave markets when I came of market age. I don’t know how it measures up to a Federation orphanage but I can tell you it was sufficient and all my needs were met. We were raised with care and educated as appropriate for our future roles. When I turned ten years of age I was sold to a wealthy farmer who grew addictive plants and fungai.” Speaking this part was simple. Jezem did not resent the actions of his parents, nor his life as a child slave.

Jezem

Séan could sense the unease and tension in Jezem’s demeanor as he settled into his seat. The counselor’s gaze was steady and attentive, offering a safe space for Jezem to share whatever was on his mind. As Jezem began to speak, Séan listened intently, his expression empathetic as he absorbed the story.

The tale of Jezem’s early life in the state-run orphanage and subsequent sale into servitude was both a harsh reminder of the inequality and cruelty that existed in various corners of the galaxy and a testament to Jezem’s resilience in the face of such adversity. Séan’s own expression didn’t change, his face remained neutral, but his eyes held a depth of understanding, acknowledging the weight of Jezem’s experiences.

“Growing up in such circumstances must have been incredibly challenging,” Séan commented softly, his voice devoid of judgment. “The strength you developed to endure and eventually rise above your circumstances is truly remarkable. But it’s evident that there’s a particular aspect of this past that continues to haunt you.” He paused for a moment, allowing the words to sink in before continuing. “Tell me more about the person who inflicted that scar on you, and the context surrounding it.”

Counselor Iven

As expected. Jezem sent the counselor a flat look, “No, growing up in the orphanage was the easiest and least ‘challenging’ part of my life.” Humans hear the world ‘slave’ or ‘slavery’ and their eyes start to water and the bemoan the tragic and unfair suffering of the poor people who must be trapped in a pitiful existence. That all slaves must be suffering under their oppressors and waiting to be rescued. Jezem debated explaining Orion slavery to the human but ultimately decided that could be a debate for another day. “Because I was still young I was placed under the care of another slave.”

Jezem closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe deeply through his nose. When he spoke again, his cadence sounded flat, as though he were reading lines from a play instead of recalling memories of his own life, “Her name was Lessa. She was the Master’s favorite and I suppose you would call her the Head Slave. She held the most responsibility and power of the household slaves. At the time I was the youngest among the Master’s slaves and the others liked to baby me. Lessa and I. . .” His hands clenched, the words poison in his mouth, “She became like a mother to me.

“Back then. . . You humans have a rather nice way of putting it actually: assigned female at birth. Orions treat children as sexless until the age of puberty. Then they are taught how to be male or female. Orions, for all that we are free with our expressions of love and sexuality are disappointingly black and white in the matter of gender. Men and women are divided just as society is divided by class. You may be able to rise above your birth class or fall from grace but you will always be defined by your gender.

“At first everyone was excited for me. Supportive as my body began to change and my pheromones developed. The changes felt wrong, I hated the way my body was changing. I hated my new lessons and training in the female arts and skills. I would sneak away from my lessons or duties to watch the male slaves. I wanted to be like them, to do what they do and be treated as an equal.” He scowled, “The other female slaves teased me over my ‘crushes’ and told me to wait a little longer before trying to entice them away from duty.”

Jezem

Séan maintained his attentive expression, his gaze unwavering as Jezem began to open up about his past. He could sense the tension and pain in the Orion’s words, understanding that discussing these memories wasn’t easy for him. Despite the flatness in Jezem’s tone, Séan could still sense the underlying emotional weight that these recollections carried.

As Jezem delved deeper into the complex realities of Orion society, gender roles, and the struggles he faced, Séan remained respectful and attentive. It was clear that Jezem’s experiences went beyond the simple human notions of gender identity. Séan nodded, acknowledging the intricacies as best he could from his own perspective.

“Thank you for sharing this with me, Jezem,” Séan said sincerely. “Your insights into Orion society’s gender dynamics and the challenges you faced are invaluable for understanding your experiences. It’s clear that you were grappling with a complex set of expectations and desires, often at odds with each other. How did your relationship with Lessa impact your perception of these gender roles, and how did it influence your understanding of yourself at that time?”

Counselor Iven

“I didn’t tell Lessa at first,” Jezem said, gazing off to the side, “Everyone was so excited and happy for me. Lessa taught me how to clean by body to keep my skin and hair healthy. She said she always wanted a daughter of her own. I didn’t want to disappoint her, I wanted to be that daughter for her. Give it some time I told myself and maybe I would grow into the changes. I had no words for what I was feeling and no way to quantify it. It was my secret. Because I was born female that is my path in life.”

He idly played with a ring on his finger, “My body kept changing, I still felt wrong and the Master took notice of me. One day he called for me and asked me to sing and dance for him. He had only ever called on Lessa to perform for her. I hated the way he looked at me, but I wanted to make Lessa proud. She taught me the finer lessons in performance and I thought I would honor her by doing my best to impress the Master. Then it was too much. I couldn’t escape that feeling of wrongness and I confided in her.”

Jezem spat the words out, body tense with old anger, “I confessed everything I felt to her. I trusted her, loved her, and I foolishly thought that she would have the answers to all my questions.” Jezem knew he would never meet his real mother. In the orphanage he would sometimes daydream about her coming back for him. Then he was sold and placed into Lessa’s care. After that he stopped daydreaming about his parents. Why would he? He had Lessa who in his heart and mind was the mother he always imagined. “Lessa grabbed me by my hair. Pulled me up onto my toes and spat in my face ‘You are a slave, you have no wants. No desires. You are what your master wants you to be. Get these foolish notions from your head you stupid girl.’ Lessa left me crying on the floor.”

Jezem

“Moving forward,” Séan continued gently, “it might be beneficial for you to explore how these early experiences have shaped your perceptions of yourself, your relationships, and your understanding of emotions. We can work together to untangle the complex web of societal norms, personal feelings, and the impact of past interactions.”

He met Jezem’s gaze with a steady, empathetic look. “You deserve to understand and accept yourself for who you are, without feeling trapped by the expectations of others. It’s a journey that can be difficult, but it’s worth it. As we delve deeper into these emotions and experiences, we can begin to build a foundation for healing and growth.”

Counselor Iven