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

[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.

[collector]

Of course. Do you need tea, perhaps?

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

No, I don't need tea. I need you to be upfront and honest about one thing. That's what I need.

[collector]

Why? Why is this particular thing so important to you?

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

Because...

[and even she's not quite sure, but the more she thinks about it the more she wants to know and the more annoyed she is at him for maintaining such forced control and composure, and the more worried and concerned she is about him in general]

Because you're important to me, and you're in pain. And it's not just now either. You're constantly hiding something and I do my best to rationalize it or sidestep it or convince myself you're all right and I'm just mad. So perhaps seeing you there like that is enough to make it impossible for me to justify whatever the hell it is you're going through anymore.

[she takes a breath] Now, what the hell is wrong with you, Brax?

[collector]

[He is actually taken aback by this, enough to stop him. He looks at her, closely. Quietly,] I didn't realize.

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

[she's actually take aback by herself, too. Quietly as well,]

Now you do. [a pause and a tired laugh] I don't think I did either, honestly.

[collector]

[He considers her. After a moment, he offers her his arm.] Let me show you something.

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

[she hesitates, but finally takes his arm]

[collector]

[He walks with her at an easy pace] Forests like these always remind me of fairytales. Do you have a favourite? I enjoy all sorts, though I must admit a particular fondness for Andersen's "Nightingale."

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

[the conversation and the pace take her by surprise] I'm - I don't know, I'm not sure, I never thought about it.

I suppose I should just be grateful I'm not wearing a red riding hood at least.

[collector]

[pleasantly] Are you sure you wouldn't be wearing the furry ears?

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

I'm not a big bad wolf. You're the one leading me through the forest. That's usually reserved for the big bads from everything I've -

[she sighs, stopping, with the banter but continuing the pace] What is this about, Irving?

[collector]

I found something here and I want you to see it. Do allow me my theatrics, won't you?

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

[she frowns and looks away, before looking up at him again curiously] I still say you have the furry ears. It's a shame you really don't it would be adorable. [and she walks on tiptoes for a moment, so she's tall enough to feel at the top of his head for ears]

[collector]

I had them surgically removed. To help me fit into the human-centric culture. The tail had to go too, unfortunately.

[brandyhabit.livejournal.com]

[she lands flat on her feet again, looking pouty] That's disappointing. Can they grow back at least?

[collector]

I'm afraid it's only in the biosphere of my home planet that I could hope for recovery.