#ep: random thoughts

[leohtttbriar]

i do get that part of the reason no one in this episode seems to be all that interested in voicing the obvious arguments for criminal justice is because this episode isn't really a story about how people are prosecuted and sentenced ( which seems wildly tyrannical in the mari world from our perspective, used, as we are, to things like juries and legal representation and trials. charging and sentencing seems to happen at once at the whims of single person who just has their opinion on what is most "likely", which is a qualification evidently also decided on a whim). this episode, i guess, is more about posing hypothetical questions about thought-policing in telepathic societies and the phenomenon of a "thought" if you're among people who have open access to everyone's.

but, unfortunately, this episode had the very logical character easily fall for the pretense of success for the thought-policing and thus a society free of violence and crime, forcing the viewer to consider the subject of violence and crime and its actual causes, possible considerations that the episode leaves largely ignored.

while ignoring that, the writing of this episode, maybe even accidentally, has portrayed a legal defense reality where an innocent party is utterly unprotected by the law for the thoughts they "instigated" in another--"gay panic" defense or a "stand your ground" defense, there are many iterations of some person of marginalized social position being left unprotected and unjustly treated because they ""inspired"" some feeling or thought in their attacker. which makes this whole story read as bluntly oblivious/ignorant or clumsily written/tone-deaf or malicious or some combination of all three.

i agree with the overall thesis of the episode which is basically: the state both cannot and should not control people's thoughts. they externalized the details of this civil-liberty argument by making the setting a society of telepaths. but unfortunately trying to tell a story about thought policing using crimes of actual physical violence with little attention paid to the structures of the criminal justice proceedings makes this whole episode infuriating. the mari security officer says "which he only did because he telepathically received that thought from b'elanna" and there's no interrogation really of the underlying argument of this point--that anyone can know for sure why anyone did anything. the narrative claim on how thoughts can be held as equal phenomena as actions almost necessarily invites people to wonder what any of this would look like, in someone's head, how thoughts are organized, how they actualize and to what degree they're automatically shared, where the responsibility to thoughts ends, if all emotional reactions can be categorized as burdens on the other, and, chiefly, how can you gather evidence and prove a criminal charge true when that evidence is: conscious thoughts? the fully formed feelings or the partial reactions or the analytical thought-response or the many other conscious or unconscious things happening in the brain? putting this story in direct contact with a story about criminal justice makes the telepathic question feel more high-stakes for the viewer and then makes the criminal justice element seem so out of touch it's offensive.

on a character level, making it b'elanna who is "guilty" of having a violent thought (whatever that is) and thus "instigating" actual violence is also offensive-as-fuck optics. it makes the fact of her half-klingon-ness fully allegorical where her "fiery mind" reads, to us, as a racialized biological reality instead of racist stereotyping. i've said before that i don't like when star trek or fans make the aliens fully allegorical, as representing some made-up human culture, instead of engaging with the alien as an actual idea of an alien intelligence. (like, the allegory is always there but it's also simple and limiting.) but this episode was a perfect storm of unthoughtful writing that it's hard to want to say that, in the universe of this story, b'elanna's biology is different from someone who is not half-klingon, because i want to defend the optics of b'elanna due to the messed up nature of this episode's profound ignorance.

but of course, regardless of how the question of b'elanna's biology is answered, from an ethics standpoint it doesn't matter. the truth is that no matter how violently b'elanna thought something (and again, whatever that means) thereby making someone else think something, there is no good-faith-engagement-with-the-telepathic-conceit argument that doesn't utterly show that b'elanna cannot be guilty of someone else's violence. the episode even lays it out explicitly: b'elanna had an emotional reaction and briefly wanted to retaliate but she didn't. she even said "i would never do that" because b'elanna seems to be the only character in this whole episode who knows what's just (seeing her fight so strongly against getting her memories and thoughts messed with was great) and also because: that's the point. the episode just managed to make that point in the most questionable possible fucking way.

[rudimentaryflair]

Haru being confused about who Lyca was means that Ren directly asked him to take over his duties while he was sick, implying that he and Lyca are at least familiar enough with each other to be acquaintances. We are now one step away from a Ren and Subaru interaction

[chameleon66]

My TADC episode 5 trailer thoughts/things I noticed in it as well

- It was a smart move to put the automatic subtitles in a different language so you can’t cheat to understand what they’re saying.

- Also this trailer while very entertaining to watch makes it hard to pick up details because of its format which was definitely intentional. Which to me means they don’t want to give much or anything away so the episode will really surprise us all when it actually comes out.

- Ragatha’s nearing her breaking point with Jax and maybe even the others, which makes sense since this is her episode to shine in.

- Though this is also supposed to be the lightest of all the episodes so I have to assume nothing TOO gut wrenching can happen this episode.

- JAX. SITTING NEXT TO CORN. This is gonna be a big moment for us all.

- I can only imagine that this is how I look when I get frustrated/upset about anything.

- In this part of the trailer Pomni is laying on the floor with what looks like a piece of seaweed on her head (also looks to be soaked) and later we see Gangle and Kinger coming out of the portal with seaweed on them too (Though I can’t tell if they’re wet too).

- Maybe the episode starts with them going through the portal because they’re coming back from an adventure but after Caine hears that they didn’t have any fun he creates more adventures for them.

- I can’t imagine what Ragatha said to Jax to get him looking like this but I can only assume that it will end well. It definitely will. No doubt about it. Totally.

- Pomni looks like she’s being in charge of something. Allegedly she’s being an accountant here which was allegedly what she was before the circus.

- I wonder how they’re gonna include the number 57 in this episode?

- WHAT DO YOU THE VIEWERS THINK CAINE’S THINKING SO HARD OVER? (Wrong answers only).

- Are these the official opposite au versions of the characters? And are they playing a game of baseball against them? Now this is going to be so much fun to watch happen!

- And we’ll end this with bubble interrupting Caine and Zooble by think they’re the fan favorite.

- Offices? Mafias? Animal hunting? Hundreds of eyes? BunnyDoll scenes? Official opposite au characters? Caine being buggy? Jax’s maybe worst fear? This episode has it all.

Please share your thoughts and observations with me, I’m always eager to hear others perspectives.

Can’t wait for the new episode next Friday!

P.S - Just rewatched the trailer for a fifth time and I may be crazy but this character looks a bit like a Gaslight District character who can quite place, and bubble say in the beginning of the trailer “The next episode of the great gatsby district.” Possible crossover or at least reference between the two shows?

[ncutii-gatwa]

maybe i’ll get hate for this idk but i do feel like the doctor should have been more sympathetic towards a species whose planet was invaded and their lives destroyed over fucking honey. like the propaganda train was running hard and neither he or belinda seemed to care….

[side-shuffling-hyperfixations]

The '03 turtle tots didn't pick their masks, they were assigned; I wonder if their original favorite colors were different from the colors they were given. Like the Ancient One just slapped the masks on their heads seemingly at random so did the kids just wake up after tripping out on memory magic with these color coded masks and go "...Oh, okay, this is the color I have mysteriously acquired so I guess I'm absorbing it into my personality now 🤷‍♂️", or did Splinter tell him what their favorite colors were at some point during their visit and the assignments weren't random, or is he just that good that he accurately guessed?

[crimeandpassion]

pokemon au

[fabuloustrash05]

Me watching Mutant Mayhem: Yeah idk about this version of Raph…

Me watching Tottmnt: RAPHAEL MY BELOVED!!

[mayo-productions]

hi tumblr, tonight's ted talk is about Otto Octavius (specifically pre accident) and how we need more content of just him individually, specially in the shows and movies. Like especially these guys bc the few minutes we have of them aren't enough, I need a feature length film for each immediately

(HEAVY on Molina Otto Octavius) ((he genuinely seems like such a sweet heart and I wanna see how he and Rosalie meet/fell in love ): ))

(couldn't find a gif for him </3)

[dusty-siltstrider]

look whatever happens in S2 with Viktor I just need to see him in a proper, flashy, aggressive, messy-ass, cinematic, pure Arcane-style fight scene.

I need to see him fuck someone up. I wanna see his war face. I wanna hear him scream out incomprehensible animalistic sounds that could be taken as either sobs or laughter, perhaps both. I wanna see missiles and rockets and death rays galore. I wanna see his nose bloody and his hair a mess and probably his eyes going all magicky glowy purple. I wanna get a bemused yet sad smile between him and Jayce as they ready their weaponry and prepare to burn away the last shreds of their shared affection in the heat of battle. I want Viktor to lose himself in his rage one last time before he tears away his humanity.

Whether we get a classic Machine Herald or something new on the more mystical side... LET VIKTOR FIGHT SOMEONE PLEASZE I BEG

[thatguywhodoesstuff]

Why Am I Not Seeing More People Talk About This?

I mean, seriously, this is also a pretty big lore drop, all things considered. This line alone validates some of the longest standing, post-Pilot theories I’ve seen and by all rights indicates beneath his poor memory and frayed grasp on reality, Kinger is probably one of, if not the most educated members of the cast.

Thinking about this from a theory crafting and writing standpoint, this one bit of dialogue also opens up a whole host of possibilities regarding the game itself and a potential hope for getting out.

[leohtttbriar]

wanting the sea - 3.7k - ao3 link or read under cut

B'Elanna gets a chance to defend herself to Seven and drink some fresh coffee.

Directly continues from the scene below:

NEELIX: Telepathy. I don't like it, never have. It's bad for negotiations, it's bad for relationships, and it's certainly been bad for B'Elanna. SEVEN: The fault was her own. NEELIX: What are you talking about? SEVEN: She was careless with her thoughts. The result was violence. NEELIX: B'Elanna's not used to being around telepaths. That doesn't make her guilty. SEVEN: Then her crime was ignorance. A common affliction among your crew. NEELIX: What's that supposed to mean? SEVEN: You make contact with alien species without sufficient understanding of their nature. As a result, Voyager's directive to seek out new civilisations often ends in conflict. NEELIX: What you call ignorance, we call exploration. And sometimes it means taking a few risks. But it's certainly better than assimilating everything in your path. SEVEN: Your goal is to share knowledge. Assimilation is the perfect means of attaining that goal. NEELIX: Perfect.

“Perfect,” Neelix repeated, blander than his normal squeak. 

“Yes, perfect,” said Seven. 

Neelix fiddled with his fingers. He wanted to say something but was clearly nervous. Seven glanced around and concluded it was probably Seven and her contradicting of him that stimulated his nerves in this way. 

“You mean,” he cleared his throat. “Complete? Thorough?”

These were both equivalent words.

“Yes,” she said.

Neelix cleared his throat again and said, “But that is violence.”

“It is assimilation.”

Neelix breathed out as he said: “And assimilation is a violent action.” He raised his eyebrows. 

Seven did know this, though she could not sense the relevance to it being categorized as thus in the present conversation. 

“Perhaps,” she conceded. “But it is efficient.” And, were they assimilating instead of exploring, B’Elanna would not be locked away by this telepathically fussy species. 

“But see!” Neelix snapped his fingers. “That’s what I mean. It can’t be B’elanna fault. Violent thoughts don’t always mean violent action. I’d say, typically, violent thoughts don’t lead to violence!”

Seven looked at him, waiting. Neelix continued. 

“It’s just, excuse me if I have this wrong, Seven, but the Borg’s violence didn’t come from a violent thought—from a wish to be violent. It came from the belief that assimilation is a good thing, see? That is was the right thing to do. An efficient way to learn about another species. Right?”

Before Seven had a chance to consider this or respond, someone started screaming. 

Afterwards, after the sedation wore off and she'd been beamed aboard into Tom's anxious arms, B’Elanna was able to joke about it. And she was able to thank Tuvok for helping her. 

“Burdened as you are by your primitive Klingon psyche, it is a wonder you are able to keep your violent thoughts under control as much as you do,” said Tuvok, which felt about as much as a compliment and an apology for ever falling for that Mari “we are crimeless and at peace” shit as B’Elanna would get from him. She hated it, but, as ever, she controlled her reaction as best she could. 

She spent a few hours leaning on Tom’s shoulder while he recounted the events of the day and defended her, even still, for the accusations leveled at her. B’Elanna sensed that he was rather enjoying the ability of defending her nature while she sat so calm and manageably sad under his arm. That was when he liked her “fiery nature” best, defending it post facto. 

Maybe that was an ungenerous thought, but so many of her thoughts were ungenerous and cold; so many merciless and unwieldy. She didn’t feel like she was excessively angry or violent, no more than anyone else on the ship. And her mother may have been a contrary and demanding bitch sometimes, but she was also honest and real and honorable. B’Elanna rarely felt real. And then, sometimes, like among the whimsical realities of non self-regulated telepaths, she felt altogether too real. 

She enjoyed Tom’s comfort while in her muted state but she knew it wouldn’t last. And suddenly, she felt the urge to build a fort, a suit of armor, to retreat into the safety of a cool cave full of reflecting gems and tinkling water.

~

Seven, after walking, unsuccessful and angry, out of the Captain’s ready room, found B’Elanna in the Officer’s mess. Hardly anyone used the room since it had no immediate access to the ship’s fresh food galley, walls lined only with replicators which had been turned off completely at the beginning of Voyager’s journey home in order to conserve energy. Additionally, Seven was realizing that, as much as she had to be consistently reminded about the nature of the hierarchy on the ship, that hierarchy had varying degrees of exactitude depending on context. The mess hall was one such context—everyone liked to eat together, whatever the rank. 

This meant that the officer’s mess was normally empty, sometimes used as temporary storage, mostly forgotten. But when Seven searched for B’Elanna, the ship’s computer indicated that that was where she was. B'Elanna, she thought, who had just been falsely accused and held by an alien government and had an unending supply of opinions, might possess some argumentative key to opposing the Captain in her wild attempts to bring her crew members to danger.

Seven didn’t have a clearance for entry to the officer’s mess hall but it must not have been that important to keep lower ranks out because she bypassed the security measures quick enough. 

B’Elanna was sitting in the middle of the floor, tables shoved to the side, the space lit only by starlight and a single radiative blue lantern, tinkering with a set of coils and a smattering of parts from a machine Seven was unable to discern. 

“Tom, I’m fine,” said B’Elanna, loudly, before looking up and adding. “You’re not Tom.”

“No,” said Seven, stepping further into the room to let the doors close behind her. 

“What do you want, Seven?” said B’Elanna looking back down at her project. 

Seven was not sure how to explain why she sought out B’Elanna in particular, but her anger and confusion was abruptly contained by the facts before her. 

“Were you injured?” 

“No,” said B’Elanna. She snapped something roughly off a coil. She was cleaning it, maybe? It annoyed Seven to not know.

“You said, ‘I’m fine, Tom,’ when I entered. Would he have reason to disagree with you?”

“Yeah, probably.” B’Elanna looked up at Seven, one eye brow raised. “I was just strapped to an operating table against my will while an alien race ripped some of my thoughts and feelings out of my head.”

Seven nearly took a step back at the earnest intensity in B’Elanna’s voice. 

“But physically, I’m cleared by the doctor,” said B’Elanna, returning to her task. “Now, what do you want, Seven?”

Seven approached and sank to a seat across from B’Elanna. She studied the pieces in front of her. She could not discern what B’Elanna was fixing. 

“I didn’t invite you to sit down.”

“You did not,” agreed Seven.

B’Elanna sighed and replied, “Don’t make me ask a third time.”

“Neelix said something to me today,” said Seven. “Before the second attack in the Mari market.”

“Okay. What did he say?”

“He said that violence doesn’t always come from violent thoughts.”

B’Elanna thought about this and said, “Well, I don’t even know what a violent thought would be.”

“You had one. Which the Mari used to commit violence against each other.”

“The Mari used their own violent inclinations to commit violence against each other,” B’Elanna snapped. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You thought something.”

“I reacted to something and then resolved my reaction and then acted accordingly.”

“The telepaths still received a violent thought.”

“What even is a violent thought?” B’Elanna set her project down. “What is it? Is it thinking of war? Poverty? Oppression? Is it thinking of butchering meat for meals? Is it thinking things people don’t agree with? Is it thinking things about being superior to someone else? Inferior? Is it thinking about punching someone because they hurt you? Is it thinking the word ‘Idiot’?”

Seven blinked. “I do not know.”

“No, no, please, Seven, enlighten me. Everyone should enlighten me—what’s a violent thought? To telepaths is it something that causes them pain? So is thinking about, I don’t know, losing an beloved aunt recently, a violent thought to someone else because you’re sharing your pain? Is that violence?”

“Tuvok might say that is violence.”

“Tuvok comes from the most specific fucking society,” said B’Elanna. “No other alien species has the same conscious control as Vulcans. Also, logically, again—is simply thinking on painful things violence? What’s a violent thought?”

Seven traced the flush on B’Elanna’s cheeks, at the way her mouth seemed to twitch with restrained words. 

“If you had been properly briefed about the telepathic culture, perhaps you would not have inspired the Maris’ actions.”

B’Elanna laughed, high pitched and humorless. “The Mari’s pretense of control over themselves and their people is not my fault. Their ignorance of themselves is not my responsibility.”

“You were ignorant of their society.”

“I’m not in their society,” said B’Elanna. “Even if I was just punished by it for no reason.”

Seven considered this. 

“You are saying,” she said slowly. “That no diplomatic effort to control your thoughts would have been productive and would have saved you and Tuvok from the Mari’s actions against you. Because the concept of a ‘violent thought’ is too nebulous and the Mari’s law was inadequate towards the reality of the minds of their citizens.”

“I’m saying it’s unlikely anything would have gone differently,” said B’Elanna. “It didn’t even have to be me. I may have a biology more quick to emotional reactions, but any human who gets bumped into and stepped on randomly is going to react with some cursing and anger and imagined retribution.” She grimaced. “Not my fault my hormones cascade faster.”

Seven nodded. This made sense to her. “I still think you and your crew are too careless with your exploration of other people. You cause danger to yourselves, the way you operate.”

“Really,” said B’Elanna, picking up a wrench and a small object that looked like an ancient computer chip. She did not sound interested in Seven’s opinion. 

“I told the Captain that almost losing the Chief Engineer and Security Officer is an unacceptable outcome to a meeting of aliens.”

“I’m sure Janeway said something about how learning new things is more important than our safety,” said B’Elanna, easily. 

“In summation, yes.”

“You don’t agree.” B’Elanna’s gaze was on her project. Seven’s gaze was on the cluster galaxy in the observation window, just beyond B’Elanna’s left shoulder. 

“You were strapped to an operation table against your will and had some of your thoughts and feelings ripped from your mind.”

B’Elanna paused in her attempts to unscrew an element from the circuit board. Then she continued, still not looking at Seven. 

“To be honest, Seven,” said B’Elanna. “I don’t agree with the Captain, either, right now.” She added, her voice shaking just slightly in her otherwise steady cadence. “After what happened to me, I’m not feeling the compulsion to explore.”

“You objected as well to the Borg assimilation efforts,” said Seven. “When we first met, you asked if I felt guilt. Do you feel guilt for exploring? Should your crew?”

“No, I don’t feel guilty,” said B’Elanna, though she closed her eyes briefly with a low breath. “I did nothing wrong.” She put down her wrench and picked up a soldering pen. “And everyone is always debating how best to explore in Starfleet. There are many required ethics courses. But comparing what we do to what the Borg do…that’s ridiculous.”

“I agree. No Borg drone would have ended up on the Mari’s operation table.”

“The Mari would have ended up on the Borg’s,” said B’Elanna wryly.

Seven frowned. “Do you think those things are equivalent?”

“Bodies being violated—that’s violence.”

B’Elanna unwound the board she’d been working on—it now resembled a delicate chain. She gave it a little tug and it stretched but did not break. She set it down and picked up another strangely-old bit of circuitry. 

Seven thought of B’Elanna being forced into the Borg collective, her nut-brown hair shaved, her veins flushed with drugs, nanobots filtering across the filter of her skin until they gathered into enough implants across her nervous system that her mind expanded beyond herself into the peaceful oblivion of drone oneness. 

“What are you making?” asked Seven. 

“An artificial psionic shield,” said B’Elanna, focused on shaping the circuitry in her hands into a kind of gem. “To block my thoughts from all telepaths.”

Seven was surprised. “But you have successfully argued that what happened with the Mari is not your fault. Why do you feel this shield is necessary?”

“Because other people might think it is,” grunted B’Elanna. The shaping of the gem was costing her. “And I don’t want anything like this to happen to me again.”

“You do not trust others.”

“Nope,” said B’Elanna. 

“Tuvok freed you from the Mari custody.”

“I don’t care,” said B’Elanna, she set down her gem and folded her hands into fists, laying them, quivering on her knees. “I don’t care, I don’t care about what he did, what he thought was logical. He’s surprisingly uninterested in justice, as much as he’s interested in truth. If he’s not going to protect me, I have to protect myself.” She let out a shaky breath. “And maybe it’ll be relief to him and any other telepath, to always be blocked from my thoughts.”

She picked her gem up again and used the soldering pen to continue shaping it. It was a flat diamond shape. As she twisted it, the reflective sides caught the light in the windows. 

Seven was unsure how to proceed. B’Elanna had explained something that Neelix had introduced earlier and she had eased some part of Seven’s frustration with the Captain’s priorities. She was also doing something which Seven found wholly rational and might offer her the better security Seven had been advocating for in the Captain’s ready room. But B’Elanna seemed unhappy. And Tom must have had a reason to think she was unhappy or B’Elanna wouldn’t have answered his imagined presence with a defensive proclamation that she wasn’t. 

Perhaps Seven should fetch Tom and inform him that whatever suspicions he has about B’Elanna are true, even if she can’t figure the details for why that would be.

“The Borg would covet your thoughts,” said Seven. 

B’Elanna looked up from her trimming, having finished soldering. “What?”

“I agree with your efforts. You should protect your mind,” said Seven. “From those who would take from it.”

B’Elanna eyed her. Then she turned her gaze down and picked up the chain. She threaded it through the gem which began to glow a soft pink. B’Elanna carefully lay it over her head and around her neck. She held the gem in her palm, the light emanating over her face. 

“I hate the idea that I could poison someone,” said B’Elanna, quietly, still examining her gem. “Just from who I am.”

Seven thought about this. “Poison can be a good thing. If it kills the right things. Like an infection.” She looked down at her own hands. “I do not really know what the right things are.”

B’Elanna traced the edge of her gem. “Neither do I.”

“I suspect that is less true for you than it is for me.”

B’Elanna said nothing, still awash in pink light. Her face expressed deep sadness though she did not cry or frown. 

“You are not poison,” said Seven, arriving at stating the most obvious fact. “You are a person.”

This had been said to Seven by many people, by now, in her journey from drone back to human. Neelix was one of the first as he gave her a long-winded rundown of flavor profiles and the particular tastes of the human species. She had called it all complicated and Neelix had laughed and said, Yes, well, people are complicated. And you’re a person so you can be complicated, too. This was an irrefutable argument though Seven still was not convinced by its accepted truth. But Neelix, Chakotay, the Captain, and Ensign Kim all seemed to think is was a point worth emphasizing for they had all said it to her at least once since her joining Voyager. 

It seemed unlikely that B’Elanna should need someone to say it to her, as she had been on this ship and among people, in the traditional sense, for far longer than Seven. But as Seven said it, B’Elanna looked up from her gem, eyes watery, and met Seven’s gaze. 

She breathed as she looked at Seven. Then she said, “And you think I should protect others from my mind?”

“I think you should protect your mind.” The distinction seemed important. 

B’Elanna held her gaze for another moment then she nodded. She tucked the gem under her uniform shirt and turned, just slightly, to peer out the window at the stars. 

“You have an interesting way of looking at things, Seven.”

“No more interesting than anyone else.” You’re a person, she’d been told. 

“If you had a chance now, would you strap me down and take my thoughts from me?”

Seven knew the right answer but her first instinct was to say, Maybe. She gave herself some time to respond. 

“No,” she said, feeling sure in this. “I wouldn’t.”

“Would you want to?”

Our experience with the Mari gave us an insight into a culture we've never encountered.

“No,” said Seven, less sure but wanting to be. “It has been said to me that experience with another is better way to learn of them than simply taking.”

B’Elanna accepted this. Still looking out to the stars, she said, “I’ve always hated being an object of curiosity.” 

“You’re a person,” said Seven, again. “Not an object. Though I am curious about you.”

~

B’Elanna ended up in the actual mess hall, late into the “night” shift, making herself coffee. She was not succeeding. 

“I can help you with that, Lieutenant,” said Neelix’s unfailingly cheerful voice to her right. 

B’Elanna relented the coffee-making to his control quickly. She stepped back and asked, “What are you doing up?”

“Same as you, probably,” said Neelix. “Keeping busy.”

“With what?”

“I have to finish making the preserves, to keep the freshness.”

“Oh, right.”

B’Elanna watched Neelix, leaning against the counter, as he brewed the coffee he had invented and poured it into two clean ups. He added the sweetener to B’Elanna’s, without her asking, and handed it to her with his signature flourish. 

B’Elanna took a sip and the sweet and the bitter and the roast filled her chest. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked. 

Tom had been bugging B’Elanna all day with the same question. But from Neelix it felt a little less overbearing. Tom was a suspicious person and protective of B’Elanna in ways she both enjoyed and didn’t. You can’t help what you are, he’d been saying over and over again, in defense of her for what was done to her. For reasons she couldn’t articulate, this stung more than Tuvok’s reluctant admiration of her “primitive psyche,” and that had felt like a blow she’d have to ignore for the rest of her life. No one seemed to think that it wasn’t her thoughts that should have been the center of the investigation, even when Tuvok managed to uncover the lie of crimeless-ness in Mari society. 

She took another sip of the coffee. It spilled her over with warmth. She brought her fingers up to touch the new psionic-shield hanging under her shirt. 

“I’m fine,” she said. “They didn’t take anything I don’t have a fresh supply of.”

“That’s good,” said Neelix. “But it’s very unfair they took anything.”

“Yes,” said B’Elanna on a sigh. “It is.”

“Don’t let it change you,” said Neelix. “You're ours, you know? Every bit of you. Even if I have to question your taste in romantic partners.”

B’Elanna tipped her head back and laughed, surprising herself to hear the sound. 

“Thanks, Neelix,” she said. “And Tom’s not too bad.”

“So long as you’re happy,” said Neelix, with a decisive nod. 

B’Elanna wasn’t sure if she was happy with Tom or relieved—relieved that anyone at all could want her. She looked at the dark shimmer of her coffee and thought of the way Seven had listened to her intently, with an enormously uncomfortable seriousness B’Elanna was unprepared for, and then said I am curious about you. B’Elanna didn’t understand what she meant by that but it, for some reason, felt less mysterious than trying to figure out what person exactly Tom wanted her to be. But he kept coming back every time she pushed, which had to be significant. 

“This is good coffee,” she said, instead of any better response to Neelix’s implied question. 

“Thank you,” said Neelix, puffing out his chest. “I think I’ve finally perfected the ‘arabica’ bean.”

B’Elanna smiled. She thought briefly of her mother telling her grandmother she would never get the right consistency of the mineral-cakes if she didn’t use minerals directly from the jungle caves of Kronos. Her grandmother had whacked Miral with a whisk and expostulated on the chemistry of protein aeration all while Miral laughed and laughed. 

B’Elanna’s mother and grandmother couldn’t go a minute without arguing, but they always seemed cheered by whatever battle they started, rather than wearied. Her father had once accused her mother of liking his mom more than him which B’Elanna’s mother had readily agreed with—just before she’d left for good. But maybe Abuela Torres simply understood B’Elanna’s mother. Maybe she needed to someone to argue with, and, luckily, for a brief period of time, her daughter-in-law was present and happy to argue. 

“It’s delicious,” said B’Elanna. “Tastes like home.”

“That’s the best compliment a chef can receive!” Neelix put a hand on his chest. 

B’Elanna took another sip of the coffee, of this alien roasted bean-of-sorts which had been manipulated into being as fresh as a fresh brew in the green, and she breathed out a bitterness she didn’t want to keep. And she allowed herself to be curious, for a moment, in between sips. 

[clumsypuppy]

fake ep idea + doodles

[houseshousewife]

Watching House, you just have to accept that sometimes the writers will make him act gross and slightly out of character.

1; because of the times, and 2; likely because the writers have their own weird fetish about it 🙄🙄

[cyhaino]

"I'm the Doctor!"

[thefriendoforatioisdead]

No because the most tragic thing about this whole situation is that the best thing to ever happen in Oon's life is her sister being in a coma from which she might never wake up.

Like...Objectively, since Oom is out of the picture, Oon got a girlfriend, she's learning self-esteem, she's finding herself new life goals, a passion, it reminded her of her talent for writing, she's learning that she has value, her relationship with her grandmother is getting better and she doesn't have to compete anymore ! She can be just one individual, detached from her sister. Her life is great, and much better than when Oom was still there.

And she knows it. She knows that actually the best thing would be if Oom never woke up. But Oom is her sister anyway, and even if they don't get along, and apparently never did, she still loves her. She loves her so much, and she feels indebted to her, and she resents her and she feels like she's so so much below her, and she wants to protect her and she would be devastated to actually lose her. And it's clearly hurting her to be so happy while her sister might die, to be happy because of things she got BECAUSE her sister might die !

And although she's finally getting a taste of being herself, an indivual person, Oom's shadow is always here, towering above her, inescapable simply by the fact that it's the only name she hears in the mouth of the woman she loves !

The plot of the computer for me can be seen as a metaphor of how Oon feels like Oom sort of...Gifted her her life. She gave her a chance to ''steal'' what was hers (her computer, May, their grandmother's attention...) and better herself, pick up her life and make something of it. And she plans on returning it all when (if) Oom wakes up, but by then, Oon is convinced she will have her life together enough for it to be easy. She uses the computer to become a writer and achieve her dream, she enjoys May and their Grandmother's love to remember her value. She's taking what she needs to get better. That's what she thinks. But the truth is that she's still not escaping her sister's presence, and she's now not just IN her shadow, she IS her shadow.

So I think Oon's real character arc (and I'm kicking down open doors, ik) will be to learn to be herself, separately from anything that is Oom's. She can't be in love and be loved truly as long as she lies to May, and she won't be satisfied until she found a way to be herself, by herself.

[fabuloustrash05]

Reminder that Rise Donnie has confirmed that his type is “cute and mean” and Kendra’s personality is literally cute and mean.