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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Braxiatel smiled as he pulled out his handkerchief. In absent, meticulous gestures, he cleaned up his finger until all the traces were gone. He spoke as he folded the handkerchief back up again. "When the rain fell mainly on the Plane, I'm afraid I found myself killed as I have killed once before." He frowned briefly as he put his handkerchief back in its pocket. "The experience was much less exhausting than regeneration has ever been."

"But that is not ..." Fair? That hardly mattered the machine. "Right!"

Even a Time Lord, used to the concept of death and regeneration, should not be subjected to a fate like that.

"How can we fight creatures like this?"

Creatures with no morals and no honour. Did they even have an aim in mind?

Braxiatel showed no indignation at what he had suffered or concern for what might be to come. He rubbed his thumb over the cut finger, though the injury was all but healed by now. "I'm sure that you didn't meet a fair death either."

"No," she confessed, "I always thought I would die in battle. A warrior's death. But it happened before I could even draw my knife ..."

That was the part that truly infuriated Leela. She was not afraid of death. She'd resigned herself to it on more than one occasion and was well aware that she lived every day on time borrowed from the Time Lords and their biofields. The problem was the prospect of facing death without a weapon in her hand and a chance to ready her heart.

Standing by the paper warriors, it seemed to Braxiatel that their deaths had been a little less elegant than whatever fatalities these creations could deal out. They were images more than truths. Illusions more than realities.

As with all such constructs, what mattered most was belief. "You'll have another chance at it," Braxiatel said. "We both will, I hope."

"I am not in a hurry for that," she said, but her voice had taken on a lighter edge. It had been good to talk about it. Although the conversation had confirmed that her death and resurrection had been real, it had also reminded her that she was not alone on the Plane.

"I do hope not. I'd have to leave the Madame President's safety to Narvin." Braxiatel tried not to dwell too much on how completely unsuited to protecting Romana Narvin now was. He certainly would like to stop dwelling on Narvin's safety.

Leela nodded. Although Narvin was an ally, it had taken him a long time to earn that title and it did not mean that she trusted him. He might not have called himself a politician, but he was every bit as cunning as one.

"K-9 would keep an eye on him."

"K-9 is a loyal ally and a good friend, but Narvin was a technician, once upon a time. I think I'd feel much safer knowing you were there."

Though Braxiatel slipped it behind distant, insignificant words, he had really been checking to see if Leela was truly all right with her death. He had no desire to be patronizing (certainly not if Leela could find out), but rather, Leela was more to Braxiatel than one more method of keeping Romana and Gallifrey safe. She was something to be preserved in herself. As capable as Leela was, she still had vulnerabilities, and Braxiatel liked to keep an eye on them.

But for now, with the lightening of her tone, he felt content.

"I was thinking," Braxiatel said, words of warning to anyone who knew him. "We really ought to take precautions against future experiments that may be held."

Her death had hurt her, of course, but the majority of damage had been inflicted on her sense of pride. She should have been more cautious, perhaps, but she was glad that Braxiatel had been thinking. That there was potentially something for her to do.

"How?" she asked, with a certain bloodthirsty eagerness in her voice. It would involve care and cunning, she was sure of that. But if she could aid him in any way, she would.

I am sorry I haven't responded to this. Braxiatel had something he wanted to ask of Leela, and I have spent the last few weeks trying to remember what that was. And I've been failing a lot in coming up with what it was meant to be.

Don't worry about it! Take all the time you need. We can even fade to black if that would be best.

Thank you for understanding. If it's okay, I think that might be easiest, as I'm liable not to think up a good plan again until later, so I don't want to cause you problems with tagging trying to keep in mind something you have no idea about. If I manage to remember it before it would be relevant, I will continue here, and if not, he'll present it to her in a later thread?

That sounds like an excellent plan to me!

paper cities burning

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OOC

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