great minds against themselves conspire

[collector]

[Sometimes, it won't all stay locked away. Sometimes the seal can't take the pressure. Sometimes the maze won't keep the monster in. Sometimes the jar cracks apart and all the evils come pouring out into the universe.

Sometimes, you just can't hide the pain you're in.

And Irving Braxiatel can't, though he tries to make it to the forest before he cracks, because that pain is written all over him. Oh, his clothing is as immaculate as ever, his skin is unblemished, not a single hair is out of place. But his bones are all jagged angles, his muscles constricted, and his mouth is sealed tight to try to contain any expression suffering.

Braxiatel covers his face with his hands, presses at his head with his fingertips. He staggers in his walk—sinks to his knees, shaking. His mouth opens—not to scream, but to soundlessly recite ancient equations, one last incantation against something terrible and old. Because if he holds on just a little longer, he can overcome this, he can take back control, he can draw it all in. If he holds it together just a little longer, he can win.]

[And then Braxiatel goes perfectly still. He closes his mouth and, slowly, draws his hands away from his face. He gets one foot out from under him, pulls himself up, stands for a moment in silence. Then he straightens out his suit and looks himself over without a reflection. Braxiatel sighs a breath of relief, for victory and for hard-won control. Slow, steady, his eyes rake over the Plane. No monsters drawn by his faltering. Good.]

Well. That was more trouble than it ought to have been, wasn't it? I'll have to get something for these migraines.

Comments

[oliverplus]

[Oliver has ventured out into the world, desperate to help someone--anyone he can find. and he spots Brax. on the ground]

Irving! [runs over to him as Brax is getting up, his expression full of concern] What's wrong? Are you okay?

[collector]

[Braxiatel smiles at Oliver, a smooth and easy smile. His fingers curl in towards his palms, but not into a fist. Just a grasping gesture.]

Oh, yes. Just a migraine. Should you be out here? It's a dangerous place.

[oliverplus]

I know, but I can't help anybody inside! I... [there's a twitch--a catch to his expression and his voice. just the smallest hint of the new feelings working their way into his heart and mind] I've been useless. I won't let this place make me useless!

[collector]

[kindly] Oh, Oliver. You can't help what you are. No one blames you for being unable to do any good.

[practicalrobes.livejournal.com]

[Narvin saw that little display, but there's no sympathy in his eyes. He's tense, wary -- more so than usual, even. He doesn't speak, just waits to see what Braxiatel will do, to see if he really is in control.]

[collector]

[Braxiatel notices Narvin immediately. He doesn't approach him, of course. Interventionists are always such skittish things.] Coordinator. It is good, as ever, to see you.

[practicalrobes.livejournal.com]

Having trouble, Braxiatel?

[collector]

You know how it gets. Busy job, lots of work to do. It inspires the most painful migraines. I was thinking of taking an aspirin.

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

[It's always his hands that worry her more than anything else. She almost wonders what secrets might accidentally spill from him when he's like that, what truths she might discover. While she's distracted with her thoughts though, Brax has seemed to recover]

This place has been far too fond of picking on you lately. [concerned and not trying to hide it] You're all right?

[collector]

Of course. Just a passing migraine. I was thinking of taking a walk in the forest. To clear my head.

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

Alone?

[collector]

I don't see why not. Unless you'd care to keep me company.

[bit_impossible]

[that sight...well to someone who's seen many, many things in his life, seeing someone like his 'close acquaintance' act like that, however brief... well, frankly, it's disturbing. but he doesn't show it, or at least he tries not to.]

Seems to me like you'll need it for things other than just a migraine, Brax.

[collector]

Don't worry about it, Doctor. The pain is gone.

[bit_impossible]

[he smiles wryly, continuing to approach him] Oh, how could I not worry? We're family, after all, and yet you always try to hide these things from me...

[collector]

I hope this isn't a prelude to one of your morally dubious interrogatives.

[doctorsfanboy.livejournal.com]

[Damon is very worried, but he keeps his distance. He only approaches when it looks like Brax has recovered, and he tries not to let his concern show.] If you need anything, Cardinal Braxiatel, I've been granted the ability to return to Gallifrey.

[collector]

[Braxiatel seems to be just fine, now that he has recovered himself. His countenance is easy, self-possessed, unassuming.] That's very kind of you. And something of a surprise, I admit.

[doctorsfanboy.livejournal.com]

It was a pleasant surprise to me, as well, though I have no idea why it's happened. Perhaps whoever allowed me to return hadn't expected me to take care of a certain problem. [and now his expression is one of clear distaste]

But I have, and now I am able to return without expecting complications. So what would you like me to get for you?

[onehundredbeers]

[Nathan, having seen this from who knows where, stomps over and crosses his arms. He still looks a wreck - he has no time for brushing his hair or looking presentable anymore.

He gives Irving a stern, almost angry, displeased look.]

Hey. Stop fucking having overdramatic migraines. You aren't a fourteen year old girl, so don't act like one.

[Nathan: you can always count on him to not pry.]

[collector]

[Braxiatel replies with one of his more self-confident (read: obnoxious) smiles.] You're quite right. Forgive me; I was having an identity crisis. I thought everything around me was pink, fluffy, and playing boy band music.

[onehundredbeers]

Yeah, uh, that might be acceptable... for overdramatic migraines. But otherwise, seriously, don't.

[It's for your own good, Irving!]

But yeah, you're- you're forgiven.

[bodilesswarrior.livejournal.com]

[Barbara is in the woods, practising with her throwing stars, when she hears someone lurching through the low branches; she turns to see Brax a certain distance away, and though she watches carefully, she doesn't approach until he straightens]

Anything I can do?

[collector]

[Braxiatel gives her a smile, his voice still a little quiet from the fight for control.] You wouldn't happen to be carrying any aspirin, would you?

[bodilesswarrior.livejournal.com]

Actually... [Barbara reaches down, pulling out a compartment beneath the seat of her chair; there are a number of bottles there, unmarked save a piece of labelled tape, and she retrieves one] Would Acetaminophen do?