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— Star Trek | All Those Who Wander

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mr. Spock upon feeling one(1) human emotion

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"Penance? " It was curious and dare say frightening how precise that word was. Perhaps self imposed exile was a form of penance for the act of letting his mother die just inches from his grasp. Anyone within the Enterprise that day would argue otherwise, but the blame had always laid with him. He knew the terrain was crumbling- he should have kept her closer, he shouldn't have let go, he should've stepped further back from the edge...

-but she was alive here.

He also wondered if perhaps the word was more appropriate not for the sacrifice of his life before and his failure before but for what was now. He had quickly traded his father's life for his mother's. Unease settled within him at the thought but he knew he'd make the same choice again.

His only faltering moment now is at the thought of their elder. Prime. Frame shifts, eyes flicker away, wrist enclosed in his other hand behind his back as he flatly replies. " I have not spoken with him. My...in my knowing of our 'elder' in my time I have come to the conclusion that he would perhaps not see my decisions were appropriate given the advice he bestowed upon me after finishing the conflict with Nero. "

THE THEORY EXISTS AS A crutch with no promise of triumph. Despite that adherence to logic, there is no way to be certain the outcome of his counterpart’s choices. It is acceptable, nonetheless; it must be. For all Spock has experienced division, outcasted and forced to reside as a separate, if constant, entity since the day he was born, he falters on such an exclusion equivalent to total erasure.

His eyes land on the deck.

The damage is done.

“ Your penance is familiar, ” he points out, and Spock finds himself subject to a flash of anger, warring again with the notion of destiny because — as it would seem — he is doomed to make a similar choice. It is likely something else, not red matter or the decision to collapse an entire universe, but perhaps another option more drastic.

To his other self's thinking, the sacrifice, the ongoing effort is worth the price of such solitude, even the likelihood of death. If that is his future, Spock fears lacking the strength to shoulder the burden. He does not want that life, that realization, that loss. He wants, he thinks, the tiniest portion of happiness if possible; a glimpse of what his father had shared with his mother, not the blazing intensity of love and separation.

“ I presume you have spoken with him? ” He means Prime. An interaction with their mother may be too soon. It is too soon for himself, “ Our Elder. ”

[logiican]

#not kidding

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I just wanted to draw them with curly hair… for science

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WELCOME to #logiican. My name is Zara -formerly Alexa- (she/her), Central Standard Time/Texas, USA, I’m 25+ and this is my selective, highly private, sideblog rp blog for S'Chn T'Gai Spock.

CURRENT ACTIVITY STATUS: Low-Sporadic & Private to @ fasciinating

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"If one believes that time follows a linear structure then it is assumed that the space of time that I had previously inhabited is nonexistent entirely. A cord severed from its original source, clipped back to an earlier time. What has been abandoned no longer exists to return to and from an objective standpoint is still in your future."

Lips pressed into a thin line as dark eyes betrayed the outline of emotion as he glanced away from his younger self's gaze. "That being given -It is very possible my own existence may disseminate at any time."

It was an unknown variable- the gamble he risked on the words of his Prime self who as it were both settled and unnerved him. The elder visage of himself seemed, while mourning the loss of his world, settled in who he was, his role and capabilities. He did manage to deduce that this version of self had been allowed to see his mother into old age. An unknown gift he hadn't realized had been taken from him. A gift that he could very well get back-

.... at great cost to himself.

And yet, not quite, if most fell into plan should his younger self adhere to his tentative guidance. "As you are me, though younger, you can still gain what I have lost and while I will state that I will not unveil information of the future I can advise you on what has been most beneficial."

IT IS ONLY MERE WEEKS OR MONTHS that separate them. But the signs of wear are uniquely apparent, an uncharted grief that sits on the edge of his counterpart’s shoulders, he thinks, bare yet carnivorous, sinking its teeth into a spine.

Spock knows what has been left to them, broken bonds and lives torn apart; their world is gone in both sets of stars.

There could have been more that should have been shared, sparing an entire planet from vanishing into the darkness. It cleaves question between his brows, tugs at his mouth. Contending with time is no simple task; the potential for error is too great to be ignored or trifled with.

As it is, Spock — his other self — had chosen to combat an unfathomable odd for the sake of one thing.

And now, his mother survives.

The change is jarring, possessive of every place Spock is cracked and shuddered, red sand flaking out of the corners of his mind. He should be grateful, he supposes, absolved of what could have been. Though, the result is more difficult than he can articulate, conflicted by the substitution of one loss for another.

“ Such a gamble has cemented your existence out of time. What of everything you have abandoned? ” He asks it, conflict edging into his tone. Spock is uncertain he would have done differently given the chance himself.

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@fasciinating

"Your deduction would be correct." It was admittedly a rather difficult if not convoluted conclusion to come to and while he had rather hoped that perhaps his younger self would not close on the truth-however, he wouldn't quietly deny to himself, the relief in that he was not entirely alone and burdened with the truth.

It was in such a moment that he received the clarity of what it was that Spock Prime must have encountered in some parallel way. It was an unequal assumption as he knew his past and what he would encounter, his universe had not changed, but his past did. Unlike Prime who had experience a complete alteration and maroonment in an alternate universe. Perhaps...in some small way this was a version of it because he knew now of two universes.

One where he watched his mother die and another, now in this one, where she lived. One where his father had survived the destruction of vulcan and this one...where he hadn't. "Altering the timeline was not a choice I took without consideration to the ramifications. A gamble as it were, nonetheless, as a...friend once said to me."

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✨fascinating✨

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Zachary Quinto and Ethan Peck - two Spock's together.

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"I find it to be...extraordinary." A terribly human phrase his mind argues, but it is by far his best descriptor of his feelings. Of the sensations. The experience. By definition there was nothing 'extraordinary' of what he was experiencing given that all humans felt on this level, but as his memories remained in tact of being part vulcan previously the contrast of sensation was completely different. It was fascinating that emotion, while influential, was not the crushing weight as it was previously.

It was consistently subtle like paint flickered across a canvas in clever seamless strokes.

"The emotion humans- that I feel has been something far more stable. Admittedly it is quite surprising as I am unfamiliar with its frequency, the consistency, but I have found it to be rather....fascinating."

The urge was more familiar now- the slight twinge of the cheek, the pull of his lip and eyes softening as the small smile was expressed. "It is entirely different than the experience of emotional periods that I- we had before when we were one entity."

Arms folded behind his back, neatly as they always had though the erect frame was softened ever so slightly and he lightly paced the room. Warm brown eyes drinking in the room with a different level of interest than prior as things resonated differently. He wondered just how different objects were colored with emotion to people when they looked upon it rather than just observing the objective purpose and initial intention of it. Suddenly he wondered if the world had shifted so differently to his whole vulcan self as it did for him. The world he knew had softened and had come under this shifting filter that could be admired for its moment of brightness, shadow and sharpness. "Have your perceptions changed with being fully vulcan?"

THE RELAY OF LOGIC is offensive, he thinks, too calm and collected, spewing rationality like a mudslide catching at Spock’s feet, and it should be an impossible, inconceivable thing from the mouth of his human half.

Stood across his counterpart, Spock straightens, taller, larger than he’s ever been. He cannot reconcile what should have been objective silence on his own behalf — emotion should no longer exist — control encapsulating every part of him because he is stronger, better, Vulcan, and yet—

—how do you feel?

Undefined. Ungrounded. Unmoored by what was and has ceased to be.

In revelation, Spock’s eyes fade in an instant, dark and impenetrable of the void now growing increasingly unnerving inside him. The universe has heightened at its searing white edges, sharper somehow, all the while lambasting him with the very ideal Spock has long desired since childhood, tumultuous like a hurricane.

There should be zero corruption, no confusion, not anger nor despair, no restriction but relief.

Instead, it is everything and more, too much to be contained.

He does not understand.

“ It is obviously unexpected, ” he says, ambiguous if laden with blunt fervor. “ You find your own agreeable? ”

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STAR TREK SNW s2e1 The Broken Circle "We must steal the Enterprise"

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@fasciinating

"I assumed it would be most beneficial to us to...review our findings with this situation." He supposed the most forthright thing to say was that he wasn't sure what he had discovered about himself in this predicament. He was human. Very human. Every action and thought was tinted and colored with vibrant forceful emotion, but it was different than previously. Before it felt as though it were an strenuous hike up a challenging terrain that took all Vulcan methodologies and strengthening to contain. To endure.

Now? Now it was different. It as akin to swimming. It weighed and pulled, but didn't drown him in its depths. He floated as it surrounded him without overwhelming sensations unless he chose to let it cover. The feelings were constant and steady, but always there. The cold safety that was before had turned into this different sensation he wasn't entirely sure what to make of.

He had the feeling...the feeling as surprising as the word was...that he liked it.

"As no one but us can definitively say that we know one another I would think a certain level of trust can be found with sharing our experiences. Don't you? What do you think of your 'state'?" The words were almost bitten back, but he decided to chance it. A gut feeling as it were. "How do you feel?"

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in every world