shifted_logs | 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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"Your use of rhetorical questions is admirable." The warriors, made from intricate patterns of interwoven folded pieces, cast a faint shadow dispelled by the Plane's natural aura. He glanced over where Narvin was, just to be sure the boy was still all right, then turned his attention back to Benny.

"I'd need a second set for that," Braxiatel pointed out.

"Why make only one set then?" Benny asked, idly tilting one of the warriors over to the point that it looked like it might fall, before righting it again.

"I mean, they're all very nice looking, but they're just for decoration if they don't have an opposing side to face."

Braxiatel observed Benny with some scepticism, but trusted to her impeccable balance. It was a foolish move, but there it was.

"I prefer my warriors to be just for decoration. Most of the time, anyway."

"They do make excellent decoration. I suppose I can't argue with that even if I tried."

And righting the piece again so it stood proud and upright she brought it over to her collection of origami figures. She smiled up at Brax.

"You do have quite a talent for homemade projects. Is childcare starting to rub off on you. I'm sure there are quite a few primary schools that would be very interested in your talents, Irving."

Assuming an expression of sincerity, Braxiatel asked, "Do you really think so? Perhaps I should look into it."

"Oh, absolutely," Benny answered. She smiled at him. Her smile was somewhere between fond and mocking, but leaning closer to fond. "Would you be Mr. Irving or Mr. Braxiatel?"

"That depends on which of my first names they care to use," Brax replied. "Of course, I'll need references. And who better for references than mother Summerfield?"

"The Great Irving Braxiatel would need my help!" Benny crowed, delighted despite the fact it was all a joke. "And here I thought the entire universe was one large reference for the might of Irving Braxiatel. I'm honoured."

"You know, Bernice, if you keep saying my name like that, you're going to start to believe it."

Brax was just happy she had missed the possible interpretation of his statement as a very sharp insult to her mothering skills. He had a feeling he wouldn't still be alive if she'd noticed that interpretation.

Braxiatel was very lucky indeed. Perhaps the time spent babysitting Narvin's younger self had tired her out to the point of missing a possible insult. It was the only explanation, because she was always so utterly sharp when it came to interpreting things as being about her, whether as a slight or a compliment - although usually a slight. That kept her defenses up, kept her on her toes, kept her all right.

"Are you accusing me of insincerity? I'm hurt, wounded even, deeply. I believe every single word I say, especially about the great and powerful Brax."

"Ah, now, it only works if you use my full name," Braxiatel replied. There was no better counter-move than pedantry.

"Yes, but it sounds like a better reference when it's one syllable. Great and powerful Oz, great and powerful Brax. If I had to say, it still works when you break it down."

Benny could see Brax's pedantry and raise him mindless references.

"And what, may I ask, is behind the curtain of my omnipotence?"

Possibly a large cup of tea.

"If I knew that, you wouldn't be so great and powerful, now would you?"

She tapped her chin thoughtfully before adding, "Maybe a very large cup of tea? Or brandy."

paper cities burning

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