#Outpost Zeta DamnitWhitley Vulcan Professor SFA Starfleet Academy STO STO RP

[outpostzeta]

LTJG Michael Whitley: "I..." The engineer would pause, evidently trying to put words together properly. "You should've heard their voices, teach. They blamed me. They never outright said it, but... They blamed me for her death." Whit would sit there for a long moment, silently, before shaking his head. An obviously faked smile would be broad across his face. "But, y'know, I'll just show up, do what I need to, and dip out, yeah?"

Lt Vance chimes in from afar "You know what happened to me the last time I did that? You learned about it in my class."

Commander T'Sala:  "Did you ask them if they blamed  you?" she asks

LTJG Michael Whitley: Turning to face Vance, Whit would nod. "I remember. But, everyone deals in their own way." Turning back towards T'Sala, Whit would shake his head. "That's part of what I'm going to do while I'm there."

T'Sala lets out a little sigh from her nose. "You are not mistaken, everyone does. I am sorry that is what reached your ears, whether that was their intent or not does not change the pain of the mark it left."

LTJG Michael Whitley: Shaking his head, Whit would flash the faked grin again, "It is what it is, professor. I'll live."

Commander T'Sala:. "You you live. Life does indeed continue despite the pain. But I want you to look at me a moment Whit." she says shifting her eyes to catch his again. "Do you blame yourself?”

LTJG Michael Whitley: "I... If I hadn't been there, she wouldn't have. On the flip side, if she had just accepted my choices, she wouldn't have. So... I don't know how to feel, professor."

T'Sala nods and takes a breath. "I went through the same with my first husband. I will not deny a touch of petulance in my motivation but I wanted to be as free as possible from my Father's influence. Which is a story of its own. But we took the test in secret and applied to SFA. Salak wouldn't have if I did not. Then he was killed in combat. I also held him as he left.

I will tell you from intimate experience that you will never know the answer to "what if" and that it is most destructive when you direct it at the past. Instead, try and direct it at the future when you can. "What if I can prevent the next war to help this not happen again." Grief will never get easier. Do not let any 'bull shit' you other wise. You do get better at dealing with it. At looking it in the face and accepting its presence. I am still trying myself after seven years. I am Vulcan and there are still periods where I break down and cry.

Vulcans see grief as inevitable. But it can also be the most dangerous if not controlled. Because grief can turn into despair which is a harder and more destructive to the mind than even rage. We wear grieving markers much like the Romulans although it is our clothing, because it is that important to be given time and space to grieve in our own way BUT to have someone keep an eye on us because of how it can twist the mind. I am proud of you for facing this. You are doing it sooner than I was able to." She gives him a gentle look.

LTJG Michael Whitley: Sitting in silence as the commander speaks, Whit would let a small smile cross his features. "I'm just so sick of running from this, y'know? My own family, for fucks sake... As far as dealing with the grief its self? It's not alright. I'm not alright, and I'll be the first to admit it. But... I make it alright. It's alright because it has to be, yeah? I'll deal with it... When I get around to it. And that's all there is to it," He'd pause, his usual mischievous grin crossing his features, "professor."

Commander T'Sala: “It is your family and you should go back. You -are- done running and that is where you should focus now. Let this be a personal milestone. And I am agreeable to throw you out if I must next week. Perhaps even with a shuttle so you do not need to walk. Humor aside you are dealing. Everyone goes at their own pace. I have found some comfort as of late asking others how they deal because I've been on the edge of despair for so long...”

“Sometimes.." she pauses to make herself say it. "... I -do- fall into despair. I am not always alright either. Some days the amount of strength to get out of bed is like lifting a planet. But we do it and get through it. And that is something I find people do not cheer each other on for enough. It is also something people who haven't been through it will never understand. For me, helping others through it has been healing in its own way. Which is why Juvi -needs- you. No one else will get it like you do. And maybe you will help yourself along the way."

LTJG Michael Whitley: "Well..." The man would sit there in silence for a long moment, once more at a loss for words. "Fuck. That was... Pretty solid, teach. Thanks. I uh... I'll make sure I take that leave next week."

Commander T'Sala: “Good man." T'Sala nods firmly and stands, poking his shoulder. "And I am not a Professor. Im not allowed to be called that without a doctorates." LTJG Michael Whitley: "Professor, I mean this with all sincerity. Fuck the paperwork. Between experience and actions, you've more than earned the title. The paperwork just hasn't caught up yet because you keep getting shafted with bullshit. So... Yeah. Professor." The man would smirk, but a grin would flicker around the edge of it.

Commander T'Sala: For a rare moment in her life the Vulcan resists the perhaps downright genetic urge to argue. "Very well. Just not in front of the Admirals or Professor VonGrippen." She shakes her head. "What am I going to do with you, Whit? Besides put my boot on your bottom or hand on your back or just believe in you when you need it." She perks a brow.

LTJG Michael Whitley: "I mean...  Might as well let me do what I'm good at. Throw my ass in an engine room and walk away, and pull full plausible deniability when shit goes sideways?" The grin would remain in full force, mischievous as ever. Art By: HunnBunn