It is horrible, I dunno if I'll keep it.
T'Prell can not remember much from the Borg. It's a haze of fuzzy images mixed with words and other people's thoughts.
But she can remember one thing.
Perfection. The Borg wanted perfection.
They carved the urge for perfection into the minds of their droids with a knife and they gave them the hunger for it.
When they removed the machinery inside of her, and the words and other people's thoughts from her head, they did not remove that urge for perfection. It remained, forever remained inside her soul, hungering in it's never satisfied search.
Perhaps that was why she didn't always act logical. Perhaps that was why she never got rid of her emotions all the way. Because the Vulcans called it that way perfect and it was not perfect because if it was perfect, the Borg would have been satisfied.
But she nor the Borg were satisfied. Their hunger was not doused, nor was hers. The endless and impossible quest was still deep down.
But after a time, the quest changed, inside of her. The Vulcans called for perfection, the Academy cried for perfection, and the Borg screamed for it, screamed for something they couldn't get. She didn't want perfection anymore. She wanted imperfection, she wanted to ruin what she had so she could silence the voices in her head and in her heart.
It was not to say that she purposely ruined herself. It just happened. A little drink here, a moment of bliss there.
She noticed it after a while. It became harder to control, she sobbed when she mediated.
Karina, her roommate, noticed before her. "Stop it, T'Prell!" She couldn't, it felt so good.
Then she found that way, when that candle tipped and she grabbed the wrong end.
It burned, oh how it burned. The pain was wonderful.
And then it wasn't just once. She never let the burns fade.
And then Karina found out and there was screaming and throwing and how could you do that, it's awful. At some point she can't really remember when she stopped burning her hand.
But she never used her right hand again.