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

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

Yeah, I think I will.

I mean, I hope you do realize you were practically writhing on the ground in pain a few seconds back. Alone really isn't going to be the best place for you to be.

[collector]

It was a very bad migraine.

[But, passing a kadenwood tree, Braxiatel steps into the woods.]

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

[she watches him, and then jogs to catch up. Once she's beside him again]

And it passed just like that? [she snaps her fingers for emphasis.]

[collector]

[seriously] I have a very strong constitution.

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

Forgive me if I'm not convinced. You've been seeing people that aren't there, and now you have migraines that are literally bringing you to your knees. It's really not the most reassuring sign of stability or a [even now she can't resist a good mocking Irving Braxiatel impression] "very strong constitution."

[collector]

[resisting a sigh] And what would you like me to do, Bernice? Submit myself for a full diagnostic scan?

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

Maybe admit there's something wrong with you for starters.

[collector]

That I was on the wrong end of a bad headache? I don't think that's something one can generally deny.

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

[laughs derisively] A bad headache? I've heard of understatements, but I really think that one takes the cake. Well done, Irving.

[collector]

Thank you, Bernice. I hope that cake will be forthcoming.

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

Maybe when some actual answers come forward some cake will follow.

What's wrong with you, Brax? What's really, honestly wrong with you. And I don't want to hear something vague and noncommittal like a really bad headache.

[collector]

There isn't anything wrong with me, save that I am getting somewhat wearied by having to insist on this.

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

[she's quickly growing frustrated]

You said it was more trouble than it ought to have been? What the hell did that mean?

[collector]

I have a high pain threshold. As you may recall, it made dealing with the Axis much less intolerable.

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

Right, then what sort of headache is worse than a year's worth of torture?

[collector]

I take it you've never been interrogated by an archaeologist.

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

I take it you've never given a straight answer in all your lives.

[collector]

Is it as much fun as a winding one?

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

[we are not amused] What sort of headaches are that bad?

[collector]

I'm curious as why you care to know. You generally prefer me to remain--[he considers the word for it]--intact.

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

I'm sure it's just a very convenient coincidence that your curiosity appears just in time to deflect the question.

Perhaps because intact seems to have gone out the window the second you collapsed in a heap of pain on the ground for everyone and anyone to see. Even if I have an exceptional talent for navigating around large elephants in small rooms, even I'm not that flexible.

Now then, shall I ask again, or will we continue playing the 'Irving deflects in whatever fashion strikes him at the moment' game?

[collector]

[he feels the need to point this out:] It's a fun game.

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

Sometimes, yes, but that doesn't make it any less inane and pointless.

[collector]

Perhaps you need to accept that this time, you won't be getting an answer.

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

Because I demand them of you so bloody often.