realityshifted | great minds against themselves conspire

[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.

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[No, no, it's stupidity. Stupidity that's fuelled by a growing desire to see Brax hurt, but stupidity nonetheless. As it is, he keeps his eyes on Braxiatel, as tightly wound as a piano wire.]

And you, of course, have Gallifrey's best interests at hearts.

More than you know. Which is, I believe, the start of this little discussion. It may be in your best interests to leave.

And why is that?

Because you're wasting your time and mine by being here. You must have other business to attend to.

Nothing pressing. Unless, of course, you have somewhere to be. Other than on your knees in the forest, I mean.

Don't let Mr Kane catch you saying things like that, Narvin. He'll think our people are worth adding to his fictions.

Perhaps he'll write about how very loyal the President's Chancellor is.

Ex-Chancellor, courtesy of a knife that you so cleanly placed into my back as I was walking out the door.

[with barely-hidden viciousness]

You didn't deserve the title.

No? Because I don't have Gallifrey's best interests at hearts? Or because you just don't like you? Clouding political judgements with personal feelings is dangerous irrational behaviour.

Your vaunted 'Academy Project' has led to Gallifrey's downfall. You allowed alien terrorists into our home, so secure in your belief that you were 'doing the right thing' that you couldn't even see what they were up to.

No, we mustn't allow morals to get in the way of security, mustn't we?

Tell me, Narvin. What do you think is going to happen when you win your civil war? Do you think Romana will be reinstated? Do you think someone else - someone so much more manipulative and ambitious - will take control? And what, do you imagine, will the other temporal powers do when we're this weak?

[snapping] I kept my people safe. You and those wretched aliens have as good as killed them.

[Narvin doesn't realise he's trembling with anger.]

Do you think I care who becomes President after all of this? I don't require their authority to save my planet.

You should care. You should care, because if you win this war, if Pandora loses, Gallifrey is damned and all of us with it.

[Braxiatel isn't shaking; he's smiling. He has himself under perfect control.]

Or hasn't anyone told you about what's coming for us? Always a bit of a disappointment, I find, when a Time Lord is utterly blind to what time will bring him.

[Of course Brax is, and Narvin hates him even more for it.]

What are you talking about?

I am talking about the War that is coming to us. A war much greater than this one, greater even than the Second War in Heaven, than Rassilon's War against the Vampires. And we will be destroyed by this war. We're doomed, every last one of us: Gallifrey will burn and we will burn with her. If we don't die in the fighting first.

That is, we're doomed if Romana wins. If Pandora wins your civil war, then we survive. Pandora is ruthless, intelligent, and willing to use the weapons she has amassed. She will annihilate our enemies and Gallifrey will continue on, in perpetuity.

So, tell me, Narvin. Will you save Gallifrey? Or will you 'do the right thing'? I am eager to hear where your loyalties truly lie.

Edited 2010-10-24 02:48 (UTC)

[Narvin stills, eyes narrowed. Whatever trust may have been there -- trust in how Braxiatel acts, trust in his ridiculous sense of morality -- is gone.]

You're lying.

I can't imagine what motive I'd have for lying to you about this.

[with a sneer]

If you were truly interested in saving Gallifrey from that kind of threat, why not mention it sooner?

Why do you think, Coordinator?

You think I'll betray Romana to ensure Pandora's victory.

Oh, very good. I knew there was some spark of intelligence in there.

[With a cold smile, Narvin slip his hands in his pockets, a staser conveniently at hand should he need it.]

More than you realise. I think it's time I left. I have a future to plan for, after all.

[Braxiatel is wary of that movement. He matches Narvin for lack of warmth in his reply.]

Don't let me detain you.

[Their mutual distrust is almost funny, really. But Narvin is done with this conversation, and he only pauses to give Braxiatel a contemptuous farewell before slipping away.] Braxiatel.

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collector - 2010-10-26 13:08 (UTC) - Expand