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]

Coffee.

[Despite that, he still tries to make a valiant attempt at getting the spoon to stay, though it is still in vain. He stops for now.]

I'm, uh, not actually a fan of fighting. Like, me. Fighting. I can do it, but I'd rather, you know, not.

[collector]

[Braxiatel sets the coffee down so he can go back to his chair.] So hacking those zombies to death was a matter of necessity.

[onehundredbeers]

[Nathan, unlike with his tea, takes it completely as is.]

Yeah. I mean, shit! Like I was going to stand there and let them kill me.

[He's still mannerly.]

Back home, uh, I- we have people to protect us, you know? The Klokateers. We've had to defend ourselves when they were defeated, but it's... we aren't fighting types. Except with each other. It is totally cool to kick each other's asses.

[collector]

Why is that 'totally cool'?

[onehundredbeers]

Because.

[He sips his coffee again.]

Okay, no, it just... it is. I've lived with them all for... like ten years. Some of them longer. I hate them, you know? I see their faces every fucking day, I'm always around them, I have to hear them piss and moan and whine and argue. We all hate each other. So, you know, if it gets too far? We just beat the shit out of each other, and it's all cool.

[Nathan pauses for a minute, and brushes a few stray hairs out of his eyes.]

Though, don't get me wrong, even though I hate all those fuckers, I wouldn't trade them for anyone.

[collector]

[Nathan has offered Braxiatel many strange conundrums, but he understands this completely.] Oh, I see. I'm very happy for you.

[onehundredbeers]

[Nathan laughs a bit.]

Oh god, don't say that. That makes it sound gay.

[collector]

If you take it that way, it's polyamorous as well.

[onehundredbeers]

Ew, oh god, no.

[He looks absolutely repulsed.]

Irving, never, ever, ever, ever insinuate that again. Seriously, ugh, that is- that is disgusting.

[Oh god.]

[collector]

[calmly] You're the one who called it gay.

[onehundredbeers]

[Nathan continues being repulsed!!!! Eeeeeeeeeew!!!!]

Oh god I think I am going to be sick.

[collector]

[pointing] The sink is that way.

[onehundredbeers]

[Nathan immediately flashes Brax a thumbs up and moves like a man on fire to throw up. Okay then. When he finishes, he comes back, sits down, and sips his coffee as if he hadn't just thrown up in the sink.]

So, uh. We're never going to insinuate that again. Or mention it. Ever.

[collector]

[Braxiatel, for his part, doesn't seem to be aware that anyone did indeed just throw up in the sink] I don't know what you're talking about Nathan. How's the coffee?

[onehundredbeers]

[Nathan is cool with this.]

It's alright. I'm sort of used to going between shitty coffee that the guys try to make or Jean-Pierre's stuff, so it falls around the middle. A bit more into, uhhh... the good side, though.

[He contemplates this.]

Maybe an 8? Yeah.

[That is assuming Brax somehow didn't completely ruin the coffee. Even then it's still probably an 8 compared to how the rest of the band makes coffee.]

[collector]

I'm flattered by your kind words.

[Like most things Braxiatel says, it is delivered slightly detached, so it neither sounds like sincere thanks or a sarcastic quip. It could be both or neither.]

[onehundredbeers]

[And in Nathan's way, he accepts it. Unless he decided Brax was a robot but he knows calling people robots is mean and hurts feelings, and he isn't particularly belligerent today.]

Hey, gotta give a guy credit where it's due, right?

[He begins to idly fidget with the spoon. He can't help it. He has such a small attention span.]

So, other than imaginary friend hour and probably fighting off shit, what the hell have you been up to to not die of absolute boredom? This place isn't exactly the, uh, height of exciting.

[collector]

[Braxiatel lifts up Ett drömspel.] I have been reading my way through the library, which is enjoyable, if not especially productive. Oh, and I've cleaned up a few messes where I've found them.

[onehundredbeers]

Anything worth looking at in there? I never thought I'd say it, but, uh, I'm getting bored of drinking myself unconscious.

[collector]

It can lose its charm. Anything in particular you're in the mood for?

[onehundredbeers]

Anything. I'm not picky.

[And he's back to trying to get the spoon on his nose.]

Wait! No Shakespeare. If I have to read one more thing of Shakespeare, I will... I will somehow go into the past. And kill him. He is a fucking douchebag and I refuse to read anything of his again unless, uh, I'm getting paid.

[collector]

[thoughtfully] It isn't literature, but have you ever seen Theatre of Blood?

[onehundredbeers]

Seen? Uh, if it's a movie, then probably not. I don't... watch a lot of movies. Or TV.

[collector]

Oh, well, it's a film about this Shakespearean actor who had a lot of bad reviews, so he killed his reviewers in the manner that assorted Shakespearean characters had died. I thought you might enjoy it.

[onehundredbeers]

[Nathan considers it.]

Maybe. I'll, uh, look into it when I get home. I'm not much of a fan of Shakespeare stuff. I know, I know, he's great, well, hey, fuck him. His grammar is terrible, he makes up words, and half...

[He trails off as he focuses on the spoon, oh man, he might have it this time!!! YEAH HE'S GOING TO FUCKING BEAT THIS THING.]