shifted_logs | paper cities burning

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paper cities burning

Characters: Braxiatel and anyone ever. It's an open log! Tag in! Join in origami art!!
Location: The Astral Plane. Somewhere near food, probably.
Time: After Narvin has been made into a wee-bitty thing. Before the hypothetical future where Braxiatel jumps into a ravine because he hates babysitting.
Summary: Braxiatel needs to do something in his spare time. This is it.
Warnings: Origami awesomeness.

Among the stars and spaces between them, free of the heavy weight of unease that had haunted the Plane, a man was putting his supreme talents in dexterity and mathematical genius to use by making art out of folded paper. Or to put it more simply, Irving Braxiatel was going slightly mad playing the babysitter and so had resorted to origami to try to keep himself sane.

He had begun with a few simple flowers and had quickly gotten sick with the mundanity. That was how the paper model of the Palace of Versailles had ended up at his feet. Then, when he had gotten bored with that, he crafted for himself origami warriors, the grand life-sized sazu game pieces that once were placed in the floating tombs of the Deathless Emperors of Draconia, that they may battle one another in their sleeping death.

Presently, Braxiatel was putting the finishing touch on Nelson's battleship. He had done a fairly good job of representing the Battle of Trafalgar, as far as he was concerned, and was rather pleased by the final product.

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Braxiatel looked down at the small child, wondering how, exactly, he was going to do this for who knew how long. He'd have to find him more technology to play with, for one. Unfortunately, there weren't many Röntgen blocks on the Collection.

Besides that, Röntgen blocks reminded Braxiatel of days of manipulating other children into throwing objects at people Brax didn't like. It really wasn't a necessary association just now.

"They're sazu pieces. It's a sort of board game popular on Draconia. There was a time where their Emperors, put to sleep in paper palaces in low orbit, would control the sazu pieces and play against one another using their half-dead minds. Something to occupy their minds while they rested." Braxiatel declined to mention the part about how incredibly lethal these origami warriors could be.

Narvin pondered this, still staring at the paper pieces, before turning to Braxiatel and cocking his head. "Why are you making them? Are you going to play against someone?"

Something about all this unnerved Braxiatel. The childishness past was an unsettling double vision overlaying the present Braxiatel knew. But he hid that way. "I may, if I find someone else who can play the game." He considered Narvin for a moment. He would actually much rather not make the offer, but he didn't know what else to do. "You may try it, if you like. The pieces are a bit large for you to move . . . I could find us a smaller set."

"Really?" Narvin asked, but then paused, considering. On one hand, it was something interesting to do! On the other... well, it was Brax. If he was anything like the Matron, he probably didn't want to be playing games with him. Narvin glanced at the sazu piece once more, then shook his head. "It's okay. You don't have to."

With calculated authority, Braxiatel said, "I'm well aware that I need not. If I'm making the offer, I must have some inclination for it." He was scrambling to remember the pedagogy of teaching strategic games, how to build up a child's confidence and instruct them on the best methods without forfeiting the sort of authority that Brax was trying to make sure Narvin would rely on. Braxiatel wasn't so honest as to say out loud that he was using Gallifreyan patterns purely for Narvin's sake - Gallifreyan language, Gallifreyan oaths, Gallifreyan behaviour - and that it was all in the hopes of making the child trust him as one of his own people, if not as someone he liked.

Well, Braxiatel and Narvin hadn't even liked each other when they were children. It seemed unlikely that a child Narvin would much like Braxiatel as an adult. But the thing about power inequalities is that they were a headache to keep balanced, and Braxiatel couldn't dislike Narvin as a child. (If he were in his fifties, it may have been another story.) The whole point of it - the quiet ulterior motive that Braxiatel had been crafting his every action and word around - was keeping this child safe.

It was a bad idea to compound Braxiatel's general incapabilities when it came to childcare with Braxiatel's particular inability to do much of anything without overstrategizing it. Sometimes, Braxiatel seemed to require a complicated labyrinth to calculate in order to accomplish one simple goal.

But there was something to be said for sprezzatura; if for no other reason than being able to look Narvin in the face when things were back to normal, Braxiatel had no intentions of letting Narvin know how much effort he was putting into caring for him. Braxiatel used a nonchalant wave of his hand to indicate the paper warriors. "I leave it to you, Narvin. We can play with the larger pieces, we can use a smaller set, or you can try your hand at assembling a 27th century Humanian-style robot porter out of spare parts I have for you."

Edited 2010-11-08 17:11 (UTC)

If he were an adult, Narvin might have had some grudging appreciation for the effort Brax was putting into keeping his child self safe. Very grudging appreciation, buried deep inside and never spoken of. But he was currently a child, and, as most children are, he was completely oblivious to Braxiatel's carefully-crafted plans.

So instead, Narvin bit his lip, looking over the sazu pieces and considered his options. The current pieces were to big for him to move easily, Braxiatel was right about that. And while he loved computers, he was bored with the lack of a challenge. He turned back to Braxiatel.

"The smaller set," he said, a little more at ease.

"Then stay here for a moment," Braxiatel said. "And don't touch any of the warriors. They're sharp." Careful to mask his unwillingness to leave Narvin alone with anything dangerous, Braxiatel returned to his study in the Collection. He resisted the urge to linger there, there in his home, the place he most wanted to be right now. It was a quiet relief that Romana could care for Narvin as well.

Quick and efficient, Braxiatel picked up his old ivory sazu set, forbidding himself to hesitate. He reappeared on the Plane, and with cold and concerned eyes, he checked up on Narvin's state. Somehow, Peter was so much less worrying.

Braxiatel needn't have worried. Narvin was crouched by the paper Versailles, looking over it without touching it, just in case it was a sharp as the warriors. From the looks of things, he hadn't wandered so much as ten feet away (although he had touched one of the sazu pieces, just to spite Braxiatel).

He glanced up when Brax returned, and pointed to the model. "Where's that?"

Braxiatel wouldn't have been exceedingly surprised to find Narvin had done something purely out of spite. Without missing a beat, Braxiatel said, "The Palace of Versailles in France, on Earth. It was built in the 17th century and stayed standing for quite some time."

The truth was, he was surprised Narvin had asked the question and that he was at all interested in it. Braxiatel would have to resist the temptation to join forced with Benny in trying to give the child an intensive cultural education. There was little point in wasting effort to manipulate someone when it wouldn't stick.

As he waited on Narvin's answer, he set down the sazu board and started putting the pieces in place. It was a coin flip to see who started, so Braxiatel simply selected the white pieces for himself out of aesthetic tastes.

Despite Brax's surprise, Narvin was still a child that hadn't yet been buried under the Gallifreyan educational system. A disdain for lesser species wasn't quite ingrained in him yet, and he still had a child's curiosity.

"Oh. Why did you make it?" he asked, padding over to where Brax was setting up the board.

"Idleness," Braxiatel replied. He thought of Peter, and considered offering Narvin milk and biscuits, but then decided against it if only so he didn't have to let Narvin out of his sight for longer than necessary.

Narvin nodded, picking up one of the sazu pieces on his end of the board and examining it. When he set it back down in its place, he made sure to look at the arrangement on the board and commit it to memory.

"So how do you play?"

Since the rules were no more complex than that of a human game of shogi, Braxiatel outlined them without any simplification. The nice thing about this sort of game was that, with a few constant rules, they managed to form a game whose iterations numbered more than all the atoms in the universe at one point in time.

He offered Narvin a coin so that the boy might toss it. "I'll take the obverse." Braxiatel had, by this point, settled on a strategy for the game.

Taking the coin, Narvin turned it over a few times in his hand, before tossing it in the air. But fortune didn't favour him, and he made a face after he caught it.

"You're first," he said. He wasn't sure yet how he was going to beat Brax, but he was certainly determined to try.

Braxiatel smiled, more in amusement at Narvin's face than in pleasure in winning the coin toss, and made the first move. His tactic was this: to play effectively but not cruelly. This was not a lesson in humility, nor was it a battle for pride. For Brax, it was entirely about trying to do the best by Narvin that he could do. Every time Narvin made a very terrible move and recognized this, Braxiatel would make the offer to take the game back a move so that Narvin could attempt another move. This, Braxiatel hoped, would give Narvin a better understanding of the game than merely playing it out straight. And he tried to be careful with his words so that he didn't patronize Narvin when he made his offers.

Narvin was focused on the board, trying to figure out how to bend the rules of the game to his advantage. He'd made a few clever moves, and many more very bad ones, but he'd taken Braxiatel's offer each time and backed up, considered his options, and tried again.

At the moment, however, he'd managed to accidentally box himself in. Stuck between two of Braxiatel's warriors, Narvin frowned, and tried to figure out how to get out of the trouble he'd gotten himself into.

Braxiatel kept his silence, giving no clue or indication with the movement of his eyes over the field. Narvin was, after all, playing well, considering how young he was and how new he was to the game, but that couldn't last forever. There were simply some corners Braxiatel couldn't help him out of.

Rather than pressuring Narvin, Braxiatel reminded him, "You may always take one move back." Whether or not that would help would be up to Narvin to decide.

"Right." Narvin hesitated, one hand hovering over the trapped piece, before he scooped it up and put it back down in its previous spot, brow furrowed. Moving it back was easy, but keeping it from being ensnared by one of Braxiatel's pieces was considerably harder. He stared at the board for a few moments longer, glancing at his other pieces.

There was an opening, but it was risky. Still, it was the only way to keep from falling into the same trap again, and Narvin knew it. He moved the new piece, and hoped that he wasn't making a bigger mistake.

Without arrogance, Braxiatel moved his piece and made the winning play. "Well," he said. "I've seen much worse games played."

It was an incredibly useless evaluative statement on its purely logical value, but he knew well enough what a Gallifreyan tutor was meant to sound like when he approved of something, and if Narvin hadn't picked up what that was by now, he would have to start soon.

Except, Braxiatel reminded himself, he wouldn't. Narvin wasn't going to be returned to the Academy when Braxiatel's duty was done with; Braxiatel's duty would be done with when Narvin returned back to what he ought to be.

Edited 2010-11-13 05:29 (UTC)

Though Narvin had known he probably wouldn't win, his defeat still prompted a tiny huff. Still, Brax's backhanded compliment was familiar -- it was the Matron's favourite form of encouragement as well.

"And their Emperors play this while they die?" he asked. Wonder of wonders, Narvin remembered something about another species that wasn't vital intel.

Braxiatel became a little bit more alert at that, remembering that he could not expect Narvin's behaviour to display something that could not presently exist. He might as well deliver a cultural education while he had the opportunity and the willing audience. And for all the maddening inscrutability and vagueness he loved to trade off, Braxiatel appreciated curiosity and would not fail to reward an interested question.

"When the Emperors of Draconia are very near to death, the loyal left-hands of Empire - and by that I mean the clergy - put them into a death-like sleep. They take them up into their tombs and keep them there, unable to die, not truly alive. It's the same sort of philosophy that compels us to preserve the minds of our own in the Matrix: the Draconians don't want to let go of people who might still be of use." Braxiatel's eyes briefly flickered to his palace, and then he spoke on. "It's a rather dull afterlife, and Emperors so dislike the dreary. So the tomb walls are made of paper that replays memories and permits telepathic communication, each Emperor is gifted with a set of sazu pieces in his Imperial colours, and the Emperors challenge each other to games to occupy them in their afterlives." He added, "The practice of entombing still-living Emperors was ended, of course, after one of those misadventures that so often shapes history. After the death of Emperor Shem."

Placing the sazu pieces back at their starting points, Braxiatel's expression didn't shift at all. "I have often heard alien scholars express pity for the all-powerful Emperors who were unable to act or interact with anything beyond their heaven. But theirs was a very finely gilded prison, and any isolation can seem pleasant with enough intellectual stimulation." It was this lack of shift - this complete absence of warning - that had often caught his Gallifreyan students off-guard when he switched rhetorical modes. The thin and fleeting smile that followed was the only signal that he knew precisely what he was saying, and that did not even last the time it took to lift a piece and set it back in its place.

And Braxiatel certainly didn't expect a child to notice the scathing criticism that Braxiatel had completely excised from his tone.

Edited 2010-11-13 10:14 (UTC)

"And all they can do is play against each other?" It was clear from Narvin's tone that he didn't think too much of that idea, and that Braxiatel's criticism of Gallifrey had flown right over his head. It did seem to be sort of a pitiable, and a bit boring, version of an afterlife. He'd much prefer the Matrix -- at least there, he wouldn't have to play wargames for the rest of eternity.

"And entertain themselves by conjuring images on screens, yes." Done with setting the board back in place, Braxiatel looked over Narvin with an expression carefully devoid of any emotion. "If you'd like to know more about the Draconians, I'm in possession of some comprehensive texts on the species." Some of them were even interesting to those not of an academic persuasion.

Braxiatel remembered that Narvin had chosen an alien game over assembling and disassembling computers. It may have been out of boredom with primitive technology, but children of Narvin's age had other motivations, and Braxiatel wouldn't discount the possibility. "And if you're better with more interactive education, I note that I am familiar with Draconia and would be able to lecture on the subject."

It wasn't exactly the model definition of interactive, but at least Narvin wouldn't be alone.

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paper cities burning

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no choice but to cheat

works for me!

more adventures in cheating!

well, considering the characters, it's not surprising

what a bad influence they are

they should be ashamed of themselves

do they know shame?

Narvin knows embarrassment!

And Brax knows guilt. Almost there, boys!

they'll get the hang of it eventually. maybe.

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