Sacris Solemniis

[collector]

[Teapot before him, a plate of pastries beside it, Braxiatel sits at the kitchen table with Strindberg's Ett drömspel open in front of him. Braxiatel stirs sugar into his tea, and a faint smile crosses his face as his eyes flicker to something in the seat to his left.]

[He leans forwards and pours a second cup of tea, then lifts it up to hand it over, the smile widening.] I don't know what you mean by 'ulterior motives,' Comman—

[Braxiatel's fingers tighten on the cup before he can let it go. For a moment, it hangs there, hoping for a hand that cannot take it.]

Ah.

[It is a quiet realization.]

[Braxiatel sets the cup down, away from him. He leans back in his chair and picks up a scone to eat.]

Comments

[onehundredbeers]

[Nathan casually adds some sugar to his tea and stirs it with a calm, relaxed ease.]

No. Uh, you know the water that's appeared? Don't fucking go in it, Irving.

[He taps the spoon against the side of the cup and, with exceptional manners, takes a sip.

It's a massive contrast, really.]

Believe me, whatever the fuck is in there will eat you alive.

[collector]

[Braxiatel actually tilts his head a little, as if this would give him a better angle to study this bizarre demonstration of dissonance.]

I hope you've had your injuries tended to, Nathan. I don't think we have any real medics here.

[onehundredbeers]

[Mmm, tea.]

I'll be fine. I haven't, uh, looked at them, but yeah, I've- I've survived worse. I think. Don't worry about it.

[collector]

Now isn't the time to flirt with horrible infection. Not that most times are, but I'm sure it's a good idea at some time. Perhaps if an eldritch terror from another universe is in your head, trying to use you to infect the planet, and it has so much control over your body that you can only pull off a passive-aggressive suicide. But as this is clearly not the case, I'd like to at least see those injuries bandaged up.

[onehundredbeers]

[Nathan puts down his tea.]

Shit, Irving, you have fucking awesome ideas.

[He frowns though.]

As long as, uh, this- this is done soon? I can just... go to my hospital. And it'll be okay.

[collector]

We don't know when this will be done. No one seems to be any closer to finding the individual who made the original choice.

[onehundredbeers]

[He crosses his arms.]

Do you know there's some fucking prick who can go home?

[collector]

[lifting his eyebrows] Is there really? That's interesting. What is this gentleman's name?

[onehundredbeers]

I have no fucking clue, but he's a fag in a dress.

[He angrily sips his tea, though still with manners.]

I got hurt trying to slog through the water to punch him. I didn't even get to fucking do that. Ugh! Fucking dick.

[collector]

[Braxiatel is slightly amazed to watch someone angrily sip tea with manners.] I hope you won't try to walk through the water for the sake of hitting people again. It isn't worth the injuries. Particularly when the person in question is able to disappear at will.

[onehundredbeers]

[Nathan is well trained.]

I'm not- I'm not, uh, planning on it. Even if he does deserve to be punched. I'll get him eventually.

[collector]

[watch Brax work his way towards a 'For the record, I tried' moment.] I'm not sure that's necessary.

[onehundredbeers]

It so is! Especially since he wouldn't let me punch him the first time!

[collector]

Most people have an aversion to being punched. It's a fairly common thing.

[onehundredbeers]

Yeah, well... he should have- [He pauses to sip his tea and reorganise his thought.] Irving. I- I am not used to people, uh, being able... to, you know... dodge... even if all he did was fucking go home. And I mean, come on! It was just going to be one punch!

[collector]

Having been on the receiving end of your serves, I'm not sure one of your punches wouldn't be a bit more dangerous than the punches of other individuals.

[onehundredbeers]

It'd just knock out some teeth.

[He finishes his tea and sits there for a moment.]

I'm going to make some coffee. Damn, I could use some.

[And so he gets up to go do that.]

[collector]

[Well. He tried. Braxiatel pushes himself to his feet.]

I can make it, if you'd like.

[He is somewhat wary of the possibility of Nathan blowing up the kitchen.]

[onehundredbeers]

[He shrugs.]

Hey, if you want to, man.

[He steps back to let Brax do his thing.]

[collector]

[Braxiatel prepares the coffee, and he's fairly good with it. It isn't magic coffee, but he is very competent at feeding himself and other people.]

If you find that man again, before you punch him, would you mind getting his name? I'd like to have a word with him.

[onehundredbeers]

[He slumps down in his chair.]

Yeah. I don't know, maybe I won't punch him, maybe I will. [He exhales a bit.] This place just isn't as fun as it was.

[collector]

Fear and suffering tend to have that effect on a location.

[onehundredbeers]

No way! Fear and suffering are totally metal and awesome.

[collector]

[Braxiatel almost considers it an intellectual challenge to try to put together Nathan's worldview.] Even when you're the one experiencing it?

[onehundredbeers]

[Nathan considers this as he begins to play with a spoon. By seeing if he can get it to stick to his nose.]

...No. But it's metal when it happens to everyone else. And, uh... I guess it could be metal for me to, to watch.

[The spoon falls off his nose in a clatter. He begins trying again. By god he will defeat the spoon.]