realityshifted | Requiem æternam dona eis

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Requiem æternam dona eis

[There is a large funeral pyre on the Plane. It is large enough to hold over a hundred bodies. The pyre is edged in a thick wall of stone to contain the fire. There are a handful of devices embeded into the stonework to contain the fire and the heat. There is also a transmat in the pyre.]

[In a moment, all the bodies from the onsen still there are transmatted onto the pyre. They're under the canvas, so no one has to see the gruesome sight.]

I should say something then, shouldn't I? [Benny is awkwardly quiet for a moment, not really sure how to proceed. If only they were enemies, they could send them off in some grand Martian manner. Oh well. She looks to Brax, and then back to the pyre again, clearing her throat and starting again] Right, well we're gathered here today-- [she stops short, making a face] Oh, that's weddings, isn't it? Bullocks. [she fidgets, looking to Brax again, before taking another deep breath and trying again] I can't say I knew anyone I saw in that room. A few looked familiar, but in the face of it all, I really can't say I could distinguish one from the other. I don't know what kind of people they were, but regardless, they deserved better than that display. [another pause, and she turns to Brax] Oh, I'm rubbish at this. Can't you say anything?

[Braxiatel, in funeral greys, shakes his head. His voice is quiet.] Not unless you want the funeral rites for a fallen Martian warrior. Or, Heavens forfend, one of my own kind. [He places a hand of support on Benny's shoulder.] This isn't for grieving friends and family, Benny. This is for them and for you.

For me? [she pauses at that, and almost protests, but stops short] Right, well maybe just a moment of silence then. I know if it were me, I'd want to tell myself to shut up about now, too. [she looks to the pyre, and then back to Brax] Do we light it now?

[Braxiatel hands Benny a lit torch.] Just put it to the pyre. The stone is programmed to guide the flame.

[Benny stares at the torch before taking it. She approaches the pyre, hesitating once more as she stares it, before finally putting it to the pyre and watching it all burst into flames. She doesn't back away right away, but finally she backs away, returning the torch to Brax]

[Braxiatel accepts the torch, then blows it out. Silent, he reaches out to hold Benny's hand and watch the pyre burn.]

[and Benny in turn takes Brax's hand, her eyes never leaving the pyre]

{ooc; after this post.}

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[Benny actually has to cover her mouth as she tries to conceal her laughter at the Time Lord drink of choice. So it's good Brax let go. Her laughter is cut short at Brax's comment though]

I'm not acrid, and I sure as hell wouldn't spoil the drink. [and with that she takes her glass, and does an impressive job of downing half of it in one sip. Humans are lovely, aren't they Damon?]

[Damon merely raises an eyebrow at Benny's behaviour, and sips his own drink thoughtfully] Perhaps not our entire species, Cardinal Braxiatel...I couldn't imagine Commander Maxil or the Castellan appreciating a daiquiri.

I'm sure even an Inquisitor or a Coordinator could make an exception for a particularly delightful meringue.

[He slips from mild and distant to distant and excited, like he is when he has a project. He may just be trying to add some levity to the both of them.] Benny. We must introduce young Damon to meringues. A Gallifreyan childhood is a wretchedly sheltered upbringing and I doubt he's ever had the pleasure. And who better to introduce young men to the pleasures of the world than you, Professor?

[and that actually makes her laugh again, almost spitting out her drink]

Shall I have that added to my CV as well? You can even vouch for me when other employers question the veracity of that.

[and she smiles warmly at Damon]

Is that really true? Never even a glimmer of a meringue? How dreadful.

[Damon is slightly irritated] I'm not young, Cardinal Braxiatel. Younger than the Doctor, yes, but I have gone through 600 years and a regeneration.

[and then the irritation fades to confusion] But no, I've never heard of a meringue. What is it?

The only people who ever protest being called 'young' are those who are, Damon. I'm afraid you aren't helping your case.

I always hate to agree with him, but he does have a point.

[and her smile turns just a bit more teasing as she looks over Damon.] But really, only six hundred years and you've all ready gone through a regeneration. You boys are so utterly reckless, aren't you?

[and she looks up at Brax] How many years was it for you, before you first regenerated?

[Damon is just going to sulk, which doesn't make him look any less like a puppy.] I'm not nearly as reckless as the Doctor is. But I'm curious about that as well...in fact, I've no idea how many regenerations you've had at all, Cardinal Braxiatel.

[He smirks over the edge of his wine glass] Well I was going to say, but now I rather like the idea of keeping it a mystery.

Of course. You can just tell me when we get home, dear.

[the pet name is added to make both Time Lords flail, because it's a fun hobby. Benny wears a satisfied smirk all her own at that, before taking a more refined sip of her wine than her earlier downing of it]

As for a meringue, it's an absolutely sublime dessert. I wonder, would they have them in the kitchen here?

[Damon is indeed flailing. Mentally, if not physically (physically, he is linefacing). And it's Brax's fault as much as it is Benny's.]

I don't see why not; the Astral Bar has drinks from various planets. Though I wonder how they got there. Particularly the Gallifreyan ones.

[Braxiatel was drinking at the time, so he just...stops. For a moment, and then continues on as he was.]

I doubt anyone puts them there. None of our own I've met here are very fond of alcohol - though I'm sure one day I'll finally succeed in driving Coordinator Narvin to drink - and I don't share my Gallifreyan stock. Presumably, they're drawn in the way we are.

Thank goddess for small blessings then.

[she pauses, looking at the pyre for another minute, her expression serious, before looking away again and forcing a smile]

How about we pay a visit to the kitchen then and find some meringue for this poor deprived boy?

[amused] None of our own at all? Not even the Doctor? ...I suppose it makes sense, though. I wonder if it's some sort of multidimensional transmat system.

[Damon places his hand on Benny's arm in a completely innocent and entirely sympathetic way, then pulls back and sips his drink again] I think I would enjoy that very much.

The Doctor doesn't have regular access to Gallifreyan supplies.

[Braxiatel snaps his fingers; the pyre burns itself out.] Resurrect.

[The stonework folds in on itself until it is, in fact, a thick plinth. On it is a statue the colour of ash - a large bird, the popular image of a phoenix, with its trail curling along the edge of the plinth. Braxiatel approaches the think and puts his hand against it, vanishing back to his apartments before he returns to them both.]

[Benny smiles, appreciative at Damon's gesture, particularly knowing how Time Lords are with touchy feely things. She pushes down the last of her grief and makes a face at Brax when he returns]

Oh, you do like showing off no matter the occasion, don't you?

[Damon enjoys being touchy feely about as much as he enjoys strawberry daiquiris. Not that he would admit this, but. Anyway. He's a bit awed by the display from Brax.] That was beautiful.

I'll move it to the spiral gallery when we get back home. [Slipping his hands in his pockets.] Crematory arts are quite popular on Seerqellan a couple galaxies over. They have a strong culture of the aesthetic. Normally, the family and friends of the deceased would work together on creating a work from the remains, but they have special provisions, like what we used, for the anonymous dead.

And you've sent him off into lecture mode. Well done.

[musing almost to herself]

You know, it's been ages since I've visited Seerqellan. I have to admit, I am a bit itchy to get off Collection. I could do with something aesthetic, I think.

[wistfully] I envy you both. The Doctor invited me to travel with him our realities ever merged, but I've no idea when that will be. Or if it will happen at all.

Don't envy Bernice; she isn't going to Seerqellan. The cost of intergalactic travel is atrocious this century and I'm not paying for it. Sorry, Benny.

Oh you're not sorry, and don't think this is an end to this discussion.

[to Damon] Why can't you just leave? It's not as if you're a prisoner on your planet.

[wryly] Not technically, no. But time travel technology isn't widely available, either.

It's the end of discussion or it's the end of funds to Archaeology, Theatrology, and History for the next two and a half years at the rate that trip costs these days. Your choice.

[Brax has to smile at Damon's description.] And any unsanctioned flights are illegal. You become a renegade, like the Doctor or the Master. If you leave like that, you may never freely return home, except to trial and, if you survive that, ostracism. Look at what poor Damon goes through now from only having aided a renegade.

It is not the end of the discussion, so don't think you'll shut me up that easily.

[and a bit less irritably and more friendly as she turns her attention back to Damon] And what does poor Damon go through now?

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