View source for SIM:Jona - Washed Ashore

{{breeman_sim
|[[Jona]]
|Jona wakes up to find himself converted to the cause of the Vaadwaur
|PNPC Jona - Washed Ashore

((OOC:  Arowant - butchering of Breton/Celtic word for Dragon, indirectly referencing the Voyager Episode "Dragon's Teeth."  

The fly is borrowing heavily from mythologies and religious systems to create a story that Jona can use to motivate himself.   

Jona - Bajoran name.  Similarity with Biblical character who runs from God is intentional.  Look for more 'running away from something only to realize it's best for him' sub-plots in future Jona posts.  I'm having a lot of fun putting this character in situations like that bwahahaha 
))

((Vaudwaar Ship -  Fly's Perspective))

<code>::</code>Free of Medrin's grip the tiny Ze'Tse fly dipped his proboscis into the soft flesh atop the forehead of the Bajoran male.  Static.  Slowly the robot decoded signals, demodulating synaptic noise and building a matrix of the man's memories and conscious experience.  Proboscis penetrating and mind linked, the fly came to know the man.::

What was this?  A mother who had been used as a comfort woman during the Cardassian occupation of Bajor?  An estranged father?  He could definitely work with this.

Slowly the robotic fly took the experiences with the estranged father and those of the Cardassians who'd used his mother for a comfort woman and began to intertwine them.  He would need to evoke fear and guilt in Jona to create a narrative with a climax.  He would need to make Jona see that he had been running from the truth all his life.  Doing his work, the fly saw to it that Jona was swallowed into a new story, to be expectorated into the new world, the world of the manifest destiny of the Vaudwaar.::

((Somewhere - Jona's perspective))

<code>::</code>The calm comfortable red surrounds Jona, refreshing him like a cold drink in the summer, like the lemonade Mrs. Uncers served on the porch during midday tea time.  Back of the mind, back of the throat, the parched dry experience finally satiated with fluid from outside, a blood transfusion with... with the prophets?::

<code>::</code>He's calm as the red thickens in spots.  Red globules condense before him and Mum's face emerges.  He's at peace.  It's just Mum.  Mum loves him.  He loves Mum.::

'''Mum:''':   Jona, come on.  We've got to get out of here.

<code>::</code>The red dissipates, muffled fluidic sounds fade into the creaking boards of the occupation era house.  Footsteps.  Behind them.::

'''Mum:''':   Jona come on!

<code>::</code>Smashing glass behind.  They're outside.  Light flashes and he's in his room again.  Dad's there.  His strong Cardassian features make the shame on his face harder to see and more intense when he finds it.::

'''Dad:''':   I cleaned up the laundry, Jona.

<code>::</code>Why does he do these things for them?  Mum's bedridden now with the plague.  Dad comes around and Jona can't do a damned thing about it.  He knows Mum hates him but when she was crying, puking, screaming she wanted him there.::

'''Dad:''':   We can do things together now.  Get to know each other.  How's that sou--

'''Jona:''':   Screw off!

<code>::</code>Guilt pours down Jona's spine, a hole punched through his forehead.  He wants to die.  He wants to say sorry.  Oh god, after all the things Dad's done for them!::

<code>::</code>The gruff cardassian stands up and walks away.  Jona's safe from harm now.  He's done his job.  Mum coughs and the Cardassian recedes faster down the hallway.  Cardassian.  Rapist.  Murderer.  Butcher.  He can only think of the work camps he saw in school, the bodies lying along the outsides of the walls, flesh burnt, stench of dung all over from so many evacuations.  Never forget.  Never stop hating.  

He was in the holo simulation once.  He sees into the open eyes looking back at him, the face of Dad looking down from above, Mum below.  He has to get his ass off this bed and stop Dad.  He's going to rape Mum.  He's going to kill her.  He's going to burn the skin off her legs and laugh about it.  He'll use her as a prostitute and then tear out her uterus.::

<code>::</code>He can't move, those eyes from the guilty heart of the father who wants to love him keep him in place.  Screw off.  The words strangle him as if they crawled out from his mouth and wrapped themselves around his neck.::

<code>::</code>The coughing stops and Dad's back in the doorway.::

'''Dad:''':   Want to go to the library with me?

'''Jona:''':   Screw off.

<code>::</code>Red threatens to come back, inching its way into the corners of Jona's eyes.  It's almost over the edge of his lower eyelids.::

'''Dad:''':   When will you stop being mad at me?  Jona...

'''Jona:''':   Screw off.

<code>::</code>He's a butcher.::

'''Dad:''':   I love you.

<code>::</code>He's a rapist.::

'''Dad:''':   I want what's best for you.

<code>::</code>He's a torturer.::

'''Dad:''':   Your mom's getting better.

<code>::</code>He walks away and Jona's sitting on the bed alone.  He wants to look back into the Cardassian's eyes and tell him he's sorry.  The Prophets will it.  He closes his eyes and opens them again.  His room is brighter.  Is that the sun?  No, the sun's not that bright.  The coughing is gone and it feels like the light is coming from everywhere.  Knock.  He looks up to see another man like the man he saw before the red returned.::

'''Arowant:''':   It's okay, Jona.

<code>::</code>The man's eyes can see all the way back to the first murder.  The scars on his face betray an experience as old as life itself.  He's seen every crime, every sin.  He's forgiven them all, and he's as ancient as patience itself.::

<code>::</code>Jona falls down off the bed and onto his knees, face pressed to the ground.  He's been running from this man all his life.  He knows it.  Everything else is just static, unimportant.::

'''Jona:''':   Oh god...

<code>::</code>The words seem so alien.  He looks beside him and sees data chips and files strewn on the floor.  Every word of hate he's ever spoken to his Cardassian father is written there.  Every time he's sworn at someone, every hateful thought.::

<code>::</code>The man picks up the paper.::

'''Jona:''':   Don't look at that....

'''Arowant:''':   I already know about it.

<code>::</code>Red pours from the man's eyes, dripping onto the paper, soaking it, smearing the ink.  Red flows from his nose, his mouth.::

'''Arowant:''':   I love you, Jona.  I really love you.

<code>::</code>Red smeared on the man's face, he sits down beside Jona, reaching over to hug him.  Jona, for the first time in years, cries.  The sobs rack him.::

'''Arowant:''':   Ssshhhhhhhhhhhh

<code>::</code>He's quaking, sobbing.::

'''Jona:''':   I-I-I'mm  Soorrrryyyy  I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.

'''Arowant:''':   Shhhhh.  I love you.  Jona I love you.

<code>::</code>The light penetrates every corner of the room and the red clears away.  The coughing is gone.  Dad's at the door and Mum's there too.  Everyone's back together, arms around one another.::

((Vaudwaar Ship - Fly's Perspective))

<code>::</code>The fly detected the elevated heart rate, as the breathing grew more rapid.  The treatment was having the desired effect.  The fly had successfully encapsulated and juxtaposed the man's father, the occupying Cardassians, and his mother into a single cogent narrative whose sole resolution lay within the arms of the Vaudwaar.::

<code>::</code>A tear trickled down the side of the man's face, and then another.  His eyes fluttered open and the now rescued Jona smiled, washed up ashore after such an ordeal of deception at the hands of Starfleet, the Uncers, everyone.  

But everything was okay now.::

'''Anyone:''':   Response?

TAGS
TBC

Jona

as simmed by

Lt. Kevin Breeman
Chief of Science
USS Ronin

|Introduces the devilish picture of the flies that would later come in useful during the retaking of DS-17, culminating ultimately in Lord of the Flies.
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