Phenomenally Bored

Re-l is very bored. That much is certain. Her boredom registers what is usually expected when one is in such a state. Here or there, nothing new is to be found. When there is even less to do, she often writes in her notebook as a way to pass the time. As her boredom persists and worsens, her writing eventually becomes little more than single phrases: as an example, a single page in her notebook consists of the two words "facial hair" surrounded by scribbles (Vincent tends to miss cutting off one strand of hair on his chin whenever he shaves. Re-l, ever the studious analyst, notices it sticking out and growing each day). She notices only the seemingly banal and uneventful elements in her experiences while she is bored. But what if this banality functions in an unexpected way for her? What do we make of those elements which unexpectedly shift one pattern into another? What we usually do not expect or notice, however, is when an element is dislodged, thus bringing about a larger shift: a change in mood, like the clearing of the weather. Because we do not expect them, the changes they bring about are so inexpressively disquieting that one often needs a moment to take it all in. --What just happened?-- What can cause these changes? When we said that there are some things which cannot be helped when we are in a bad mood, there are, nevertheless, some things that we can help. We see that this is something which Re-l intuitively grasps as well. Toward the end of the episode, Re-l is seen lying in bed, having written the scribbled phrase mentioned above. Rather than writing, she is chewing on the tip of her pen. Her face expresses her fitful state of mind. She cannot even focus her thoughts enough to write anything beyond that simple phrase. By inner dialogue, she speaks of reaching her breaking point, wondering what caused it (We claim it was a plurality of causes and events, as we mapped it out above). Yet, this last act of expressing the one thing that was immediately on her mind, though it may seem trivial, perhaps was the first unnoticed step towards dispelling the mood. She had intuitively grasped something that was indeed within her range, giving her a way out.

So, which of Re-l's actions causes such a shift in mood? Let us first set up the situation. It's now the day after she had written the single phrase expressing her inability to think clearly. The craft's power level has reached the point that they cannot use the lights, so they use candles to illuminate the interior of the craft. The candle light in such close quarters gives the cabin's atmosphere an air of tranquility. The shadows are soft, never becoming solid and sharp. It almost looks nostalgic, like how things are often imagined to be centuries ago when there was no electricity. Vincent and Pino are busy doing something, as is usually the case with them. Meanwhile, Re-l is once again writing in her notebook, except that this time she seems to be more productive than the previous night. The whole scene looks like an oil painting that suggests those dark nights of the soul where introspection pierces all barriers. As such, it necessarily suggests release or deliverance, which is why it's worth our attention. Returning to specifics once more, Re-l calls out to Vincent that she needs a new candle, her own having now melted down to a stump. Just as when Vincent is handing her a new candle, she quickly grabs his wrist and pulls him closer to her. She has her other hand gently grasping him under his chin, slowly drawing his face toward hers. If the tension was heavy when days ago she scolded him for having no sensible plan, the tension is now of a very different sort, still retaining a manifest quality. We still feel it, though it's now changed. In total serenity, it's the setup for a stolen kiss. We are about to see the moment when the mood shifts for the better, and we could not have expected it to happen in a better situation than now. Ready to commence the transition in her own unique way, Re-l does something else instead. Having Vincent immediately before her, she quickly transitions from seeming romance to apparent mischievousness. With one swift move, she plucks out the single irritating hair on his chin, instead of delivering the kiss we may have expected. Letting out a laugh for the first time, she tosses the vexing chin-hair aside. Vincent, having no idea why she did that, is clearly puzzled and startled by her confusing actions. And it's here we see her smile ever so slightly. It's her first genuine, yet understated, smile in the episode. She does not smile because she caused him brief pain; she smiles inwardly because she caused the start of a change in her mood. The writing of the phrase in the notebook was the element, and the removal of hair was the event.