The Trial of Harmony & Invention

[collector]

[Irving Braxiatel is a Procurer of Stuff, so it is not surprising when this well-dressed gentleman appears with Stuff He Has Procured. Though the sort of Stuff he has brought, well.]

[The first of the Stuff is a new version of the information kiosk. Mysteriously, however, there are no longer any papers. Instead there is a simple sign reading Please say 'help' for information.]

[The second of the Stuff is semi-traditional 1800s equipment for table tennis. This means the table is a mahogany dining table, the ball is actually a rounded off champagne cork, and the net and rackets are actually books of Romantic era poetry.]

[The third of the Stuff is a paper aeroplane. Braxiatel picks the aeroplane up and sends it flying. When it is some distance away, Braxiatel disintegrates the aeroplane with a staser shot, then puts the staser away.]

[That settled, Braxiatel picks up one of the table tennis rackets. That is, a volume of Byron's poetry. Don't worry, it's not a first edition. The other racket is a volume of Percy Shelley's work.]

Is anyone up for a game of table tennis? Archaeologists are remarkably poor players and I am craving a challenge of late.

Comments

[collector]

[Braxiatel gives the kiosk a Look] Engage in a temporary shut down, would you? You'll know when I want you back up. [The entire thing turns off. No more annoying accidental triggers. Braxiatel picks up the cork, bounces it off the table a few times, and then sends Benny a rather polite and gentle serve.]

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

[she seethes, because she knows that was polite and gentle and she takes that as a total insult] Oh you... [but then her smile turns polite and gentle and dainty] ...lovely man. Oh, you lovely man.

[and her return of the cork reflects her smile perfectly]

I do say old boy, this should prove to be frightfully good sport.

[collector]

[To which Braxiatel's reply is a vicious return that hits the left corner on Benny's side and then goes at an angle instead of strait courtesy of the spin.]

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

[she grunts leaning over the table to try to get it, but misses]

Oh bloody kruking sodding hell!

[and she chases after the cork as it bounces along the Plane floor until she finally scoops it up on one of those bounces. She runs back to the table, and then tosses it over to Brax so he can serve again]

Playing to fifteen, best of three?

[collector]

Sounds fair. [Braxiatel clicks a button on the side of the desk and a holographic scoreboard appears beside the table. It reads "B: 1 S: 0" in blue. That settled, Braxiatel sends a neat serve Benny's way.]

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

[Benny puts a large amount of force into her return, sending it to the left corner of Brax's side of the table]

[collector]

[One of the advantages of 1) lightening-fast reflexes, 2) the ability to analyse at remarkable speeds, and 3) being rather long-libbed is . . .]

[Actually, no, forget that. Let's just say that being Braxiatel has its advantages. Brax returns the ball without even moving from his place.]

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

[sadly Benny lacks all of these advantages, so she hurtles herself halfway across the table to return the ball, but she does get it, and sends it Brax's way]

[collector]

[Braxiatel, of course, proceeds to completely thrash Bernice at the game. For the montage, let's pick this. Braxiatel's smile is as pleasantly half-amused as ever.]

I'm sure Mr Kane will appreciate serious academic criticism.

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

[emphasis on Brax being the cheat. Damn him.]

You're helping.

[collector]

[There's a reason that one was selected.]

Am I? I don't seem to recall that being in the terms of the wager. I don't feel obliged to help at all.

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

[what a cheating bastard]

Then you need to pay closer attention. Obliged or not, if I have to suffer, so do you!

[collector]

That's very unsportsmanlike, Bernice.

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

And whoever said I was sportsmanlike?

[she drops and returns with a second copy. Why there are two copies of this abomination to literary criticism, who knows? She throws the book at Brax, and then hops up on the table, folding her legs underneath her to sit cross-legged on the table as she reads. She doesn't look up from the book, her voice the one she uses with her students.]

Get to work.

[collector]

[after a moment's consideration, Braxiatel throws the book into the air, pulls out that staser of his, and shoots the book out of the sky.]

[Then he pauses]

I should note, Roe, that that was an act of kindness towards the universe, not another message for you.

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

[Benny looks up from her copy]

Roe?

[collector]

Oh, just an interesting woman. I've been trying different ways to communicate with her. [with a smile so very mild and pleasant] And how goes your research into Mr Kane's work?

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

It's...nightmarish. [she throws the book in disgust, and then lies backwards on the table, using some William Blake volumes from the net as a pillow] How the hell does that get taken seriously? Bloody hell, I've never had... [she growls in frustration] Oh bugger it!

[and Benny pouts stares up at the stars above her, her arms crossed over her chest]

[collector]

[Braxiatel doesn't hide his smile at Benny's pouting.] Jason has a talent for making something out of nothing. Or perhaps I should say that he makes nothing out of nothing and just happens to be very good at convincing people that it's something after all.

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

[she doesn't notice the smile, as she's wallowing in her own pouting and stuff]

I bet he sold the emperor his new clothes. I wouldn't put it past the bastard to plot for a nude empire.

[collector]

That would be a very unusual take on the old story. Perhaps you should pitch it.

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

And give Jason the satisfaction of being the inspiration for something? I don't think so. He would never let me live it down.

[collector]

You don't have to tell him.

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

He'd find out. Believe me, he'd find out.

Somehow.

The bastard.

[collector]

How omniscient of him.