realityshifted | (no subject)

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doctor who (d1) bernice summerfield

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[so have a Bernice Summerfield, newly arrived and looking around the place, rather unimpressed over all]

Right. So I believe this is the bit where I address whoever it is that may have brought me to...whatever this is here. While it's very flattering to get whisked away on an unexpected holiday to ... a very elaborate [spots a misplaced constellation] very inaccurate, very expansive variety of observatory, I would ask that you kindly instruct me on the how the hell to get out of this place.

[when there is still no answer, Benny falls back into that lovely habit of just talking to thin air]

Really, this isn't any desire to be rude. Normally I would probably love to have a go around this place. Don't think I didn't spot the Coliseum you have set up there as well as that early 20th century cinema. Top-notch, really. As it were though, I am just a bit busy at the moment. Things to do, people to see, all that nonsense.

[pause, and still nothing. Sigh. Benny is starting to feel just a tad irritable now, and it can be heard in her voice, which she is doing her best to keep casual and carefree]

And if the man behind the curtain here turns out to be Anson, well, I will have to hand it to you that you've definitely gone above and beyond what I normally expect of you. So now that this part is over with, you've done the entire disorienting the archaeologist bit, perhaps you could let me know which way to the exit.

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Even easier.

I wasn't even aware easy was part of your vocabulary. Right then, let's just see about this easy bit then.

[Benny drops. Several minutes pass and she returns]

Yes. Well that...that is something. Far easier than something like that even should be.

[hesitantly] I asked Anson about...about my Brax. He said he was 'unavailable' just like you said, but it wasn't the usual sort of 'unavailable.' Anson actually looked shaken up, like he had just lost his first edition of Mein Kampf. [she looks down at her teacup on the table then back up at Brax] I really hope there is something stronger around here, because even if this is all in my head, at least I can delude myself into thinking I'm completely smashed.

Edited 2010-05-06 02:36 (UTC)

[mildly] Shouldn't that wait until all the explanations are done?

[His half-amused smile is also half of a smirk. Perhaps Brax is rather pleased to hear of Anson being shaken up. Well. You can't blame him.]

No, no, no, why put off for tomorrow what can be done right now, thank you.

Besides that, I have a nagging feeling the explanations are going to be rather long winded and filled with an enormous amount of platitudes, doublespeak, and diplomatic phrasing, so I'd rather just get good and sloshed now if you wouldn't mind. It will make it all just a tad easier to swallow, I hope.

A spoonful of brandy helps the technobabble go down?

[Braxiatel stands and offers her his arm] I'll take you to the bar.

Precisely. Now you're speaking my language at least.

[she hesitates before finally taking his arm] At least they thought enough to set up a bar. That shows some common courtesy.

[His smile softens. She is willing to trust him that far, at least. He guides her to the bar]

You could try reading that brochure, you know. Its whole purpose is to introduce people to the Astral Plane. It's a point of irony that the one person who knows the author won't read it.

On second thoughts, that makes it all the more likely that you never will.

[and she can't help but laugh at that]

Oh, like you aren't absolutely thrilled about the irony.

[she looks as if she's about to continue, but then she recalls her settings and mentally kicks herself for relaxing so easily into this. She bites her lip, looking away]

So who is it that wrote this brochure you're so keen on having me look through?

[lifting his eyebrow] Broderick, Bernice. Broderick Naismith. Who else?

But Broderick is..oh, yes, of course. That would have been prevented by you, wouldn't it have?

[wryly] He has informed me that if telling him to write about a 'frankly improbable multiversal nexus' is my idea of helping him, I am never to take an interest in his well-being again. But he's recovered quite well from it.

I really wouldn't blame him at all for being at least mildly concerned. But mild concern isn't too much for you. One of the bonuses of being an eccentric leader, I suppose. While others would call it completely mad, well, Irving Braxiatel wears it like a piece of his charm.

[As he holds the door to the bar open for her] I thought it was a piece of my charm.

Yes you would think that. Along with your stellar sense of modesty, it all adds to the entire Irving Braxiatel package. [she walks through the door, taking in the Astral Bar and she turns around to look at Brax]

Yes, right, Brax, not-Brax, whoever you are, it would be really fabulous if you would make me a drink. I might even say I love you, even if you are a figment of my imagination or forced figment as it were. Does it still count as a figment if it's put there by force by whoever it is that might be creating this?

Nevermind, I wouldn't want to get a headache inside my own head. That would be just the tiniest bit ridiculous and redundant, and I do try to avoid redundancy whenever possible. [and she takes a seat at the bar, waiting for Brax to get her a drink, and she might drum a bit on the bar itself, perhaps in an effort to push aside the anxiety of this entire experience]

Must I always defend my ontological status? [But Brax grabs a bottle of brandy and two glasses. He pours them each a drink, then sets the bottle between them.]

And as 'figment' means 'a construction or intenvion,' then yes, a forced hallucination would be a figment. Not of your imagination, but someone else's.

Don't take it too personally. I'm even questioning how real this brandy is, and we both know how I feel about that. [she gladly drinks the cup he pours her]

You were always so good with semantics. I feel I let down my side by even debating that. I'll blame exhaustion and confusion. How's that sound?

[and she drinks some more of her brandy]

Benny... [He leans forwards, the slightest frown on his face, his hands at rest on the table so he doesn't reach out to touch her hand. Braxiatel's concern is broadcasting itself.] You have to have faith in your own instincts.

[she stares at him, and then reels back angrily, pulling her hands away from the table just in case he would decide he wanted to reach out for them.]

Just who the hell do you think you are? I don't need you telling me to have faith in my instincts.

[she sighs, calming down]

Sorry. I should go. I do have things I need to be doing, and it would be far too easy to just let myself hide here forever. Believe me, it's all ready feeling like I could let myself get wrapped up in whatever this is.

[Fortunately, Braxiatel takes being yelled at much better than, say, Benny's ex-husband. But he still draws away.] I'm Irving Braxiatel. I'm your friend. And I know that whatever tricks are pulled on you, whatever anyone does to play with your senses or your memories, you have an instinct that cuts through the unreal. Even the creature from Paracletes couldn't fool you for long. You always cut through to the truth in the end.

My friend is gone. I went home and he was just gone and now you say you're him, but you won't be there when I go home either. And I need to go home. That's the truth in the end. I need to go back there. There are people depending on me and I can't let myself sit around waiting for things to magically get better anymore.

This and you, you might be real, but that doesn't change the fact that I have to go home. The longer I wait, the harder it will be to leave.

I'm sorry.

I can go back with you. If you go home, you will see me around. If you'd read the brochure, you'd know that. You will be able to see me and no one else will. Likewise, in the correct timeline, I'll be able to see you. But no one else - not Jason, not Adrian, not Peter - will see you. It will be like you just disappeared.

I don't want to read the brochure, and I don't want to look like I'm half mad talking to a you no one else can see.

This is, it's too much to figure out right away. I need time to think. I'll come back. I'm not that strong that I can stay away from whatever this might be that gives me a holiday from home, but I can't do this right this instant either.

Do you still have that brochure? I'll take it back with me to read.

[He holds it out to her, silent, showing nothing in his expression.]

[she hesitates and then grabs it] Thank you.

I should be going now. [she looks at him another second and then gives him a hug and a kiss on the cheek, in an almost father/daughter type way, before pulling away] I'll see you soon. I just need time to think.

[and she grabs the bottle of brandy off the bar before dropping]

[He's left blinking at the gesture. Rather than waste a perfectly good glass of brandy, Brax settles in with a book and decides to read until he finishes it off. He does have his priorities.]

Edited 2010-05-08 21:26 (UTC)

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