Fantasy for Organ, in E flat Major

[collector]

[There is cake on the kitchen table. Everything else is irrelevant, because there is a table, and it has delicious cake on it.]

[But if one must notice the peripheral details, Irving Braxiatel is leaning on the counter by the oven. A fresh sheet of croissants are on top of the stove, and Braxiatel is looking over a paper on Shakespearean performances in non-human cultures. He is also fixing an odd bit of technology that might be recognized as part of a time ship's temporal stabilizer. The devil, after all, always finds work for idle hands. He seems perfectly at ease.]

[There is also an extra cake on the table, as if to ward off vultures from the main prize.]

Comments

[collector]

[He sits across from her; as by some legerdemain, there is a cup of tea in front of her and another in front of him.]

Someone close to me used to have a word for humanity. Indomitable.

[newworldlover.livejournal.com]

I think that's fairly true. We're definitely not the last five hundred or so people on Earth.

[Tea. Tea and talking. Yes, she remembers this-- and she's starting to mellow out.]

[collector]

[He smiles, and as he lifts his teacup to his lips, he asks, voice soft,] Did I ever tell you about the time I wiped out an entire planet?

[newworldlover.livejournal.com]

[It's one of those things that just doesn't sink in, not right away. She actually has to do a mental check and make sure that she really heard that.]

... No, you didn't.

[She's somewhat perturbed, but nothing judgmental lies in her tone.]

And you don't have to, not if you don't want to. ... I'm sorry for burdening you with my secret. I don't remember what I said very well.

[collector]

[with a quiet laugh] I don't do anything if I don't want to do it. It's one of the pleasures of being me.

[It is one of the greater lies he has told, but he tells it easily. Perhaps that's because it doesn't matter if he is believed. It's a declaration of something other than freedom.]

You hardly burdened me. But I want you to know that I will not tell a soul, and that—I suppose I want you to know that I won't take up gavel or axe against you. It would be an unforgivable hypocrisy.

[newworldlover.livejournal.com]

[So he destroyed that world on purpose? She'll try not to pick apart that statement.] Thank you. [Yeah, she's not too proud of what happened. Back then, or just a couple of months ago. She shelters her teacup with her hands.] It's wrong to be dishonest, but if everyone knew what my family did... the results would be disastrous.

[collector]

Those who freely discuss the worlds they've destroyed tend to be braggarts who proud of what they've done or my brother's school friends, and they don't make for pleasant or interesting conversation. Not to suggest that you are dull or that I am proud.

[He cuts up a slice of cake.] I like to think of it as discretion rather than dishonesty. I've yet to determine if that is a matter of me being discrete with myself.

[newworldlover.livejournal.com]

Mm, I suppose that's true.

[She eyes the cake as subtly as possible.]

I think we're required to lie to ourselves a little bit about things. If all we did was concentrate on how bad our mistakes were, then how would we ever find the hope to improve?

[collector]

[He sets the cake down before her.] So long as we aren't such good liars as to forget the truth.

[newworldlover.livejournal.com]

We both believe there's more to us than the sum of our mistakes. At least, I hope you do.

[She takes in a slow breath.]

Thank you for this, Mr. Braxiatel.

[collector]

[with a broad gesture] Oh, it's nothing. I like baking. It's quite a lot of fun to sample one's work as one goes along.