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.}

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You no longer have ties to the court?

I was dismissed of my service in the Dragoons by virtue of being sent to my death in Russia. My loyalty to His Majesty left with it.

One can never forgive Russia. Or, if one is Russian, Siberia. [Which begs the question of what Siberian people can't forgive.]

[she gives Brax a look like he's five] You're getting yourself distracted.

[and back to Robespierre] It sounds like your history might be a bit different from the one I know. You wouldn't happen to have any modern history texts, pamphlets, leaflets, newspapers, anything really that you'd be willing to share, do you?

No. You obviously know about my future, but I wish to know nothing of it, nor for you to know anything else about me.

{because that might reveal his love for lia ;_;}

The future isn't clear or consistent, particularly not where alternate histories are involved.

[she feels a bit sulky at that] A simple no would have sufficed just fine, you know.

[she gives Brax a look at that] No, they're not, are they?

Perhaps. But I will take no chances. I have been recognized enough here that I can only imagine that I play quite the role in history. But forgive me, nonetheless. I wish for my future to only be influenced by my own actions and those around me in my own time.

No Oracles for you, Monsieur?

I wouldn't do that. I have some sense of responsibility as far as time goes. Besides that, your time line is all ready different, I can tell. I was only interested academically in how events unfolded - oh, I can tell I'm wasting my breath.

[she pauses, and then a thought occurs to her which seems to end her sulking, although she keeps her mouth shut.]

{He glances at Benny curiously for a moment, but actually smiles--gasp!}

Not at all. The idea of prophecy has never sat well with me.

I've always thought them... rather self-fulfilling, to coin a phrase. It's pointless knowing the future if all you can do is what it predicts. And of course, those who try to fight their fortunes are punished for their hubris.

[Of course, he's talking from a prophecy-based point of view. This has all of nothing to do with how Brax actually views the ethics of messing around with history.]

I've seen enough supposed prophecies fizzle into nothing that I'm quite convinced the entire business of prophecies is half rubbish anyway. Besides that, even at their best, they're only possibilities, aren't they?

[and she's thinking of a fairly charming demon king as a phrase rolls around in her mind.]

Certainly so. But their effect on people once they are known is often more powerful than the prophecy itself.

If you tell a man he will kill someone he loves, he will begin to wonder who, and why. And then he'll find himself a loved one he might kill, and he'll discover the reasons he might kill them, even if those reasons are just inventions of his own mind. And then he'll follow through.

It's a cruel trick.

[she looks to both of them, a sense that Brax's word mean something, something that will probably dawn on her later, but right now she is not up for thinking that hard. She bites her lip and then takes a deep breath before trying on nonchalance and a smile]

We're an absolutely cheerful lot, aren't we? Isn't this the bit of the wake where we're meant to crawl off to the nearest pub and get completely smashed? I don't know about you two, but I could really do with a drink right about now.

{so I was thinking "well Robespierre doesn't drink" until I saw this icon. Thought you should know.}

If you would like, Madame.

[oh well done]

[Brax gives Benny the smile of a civil servant watching his prime minister fall once again into idiosyncratic foibles.]

Yes, Professor.

Edited 2010-06-12 06:40 (UTC)

[well, having fallen into her idiosyncratic foible, she is barely aware of the way Brax is smiling or saying that]

Fantastic. Off we go then boys.

[and off she goes in the direction of the bar. She assumes they're following. If they aren't, she's perfectly capable of getting pissed all on her own as well]

{he hasn't gone drinking with, uh, anyone since Lia died. This is weird, but he follows behind silently}

[Braxiatel slips his hand into his pocket, and in doing so he puts up an unseen forcefield around the pyre, just to be sure that no one tries to steal advanced technology while he's gone. Then he follows after Benny, keeping pace with Robespierre rather than Bernice. After all, Benny definitely gets to take the lead.]

[Damn straight Benny takes the lead. As it should be. And now they get to the bar. Benny turns to Robespierre] 18th century France, you should be a wealth of knowledge on the topic. What wine would you suggest, [and she affects a haughty accent, something close to her Brax accent but with a bit more French flair] Monsieur?

[if she's going to socialize with a man responsible for countless atrocities, she'll at least get a good wine out of the bargain]

{He's clearly surprised, but answers easily} A new wine from the Champagne region is quite popular.

[pinching the bridge of his nose] Please don't do accents.

[she does a snotty and whiny version of her Brax accent] Please don't do accents.

[and back to her normal voice] I'm bloody fantastic at accents and you know it.

[a deep breath and then she smiles pleasantly at Robespierre.] Champagne. Lovely. Any particular year?

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edited to make a full-fledged reference to a 1980s political comedy

ILU <3

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