[closed] save me

[altusimperius]

WHO: Benedict, people with clearance to see him
WHAT: Benedict is in baby jail resulting from some poor decision-making.
WHEN: the days following this
WHERE: BABY JAIL (the Gallows dungeon, solitary confinement)
NOTES: It might get dark? There will likely be talk of abuse. Also, only certain people will be allowed to see him, so please PM me if you want to get in on it!

The attitude is more difficult to maintain when no one's around, and it didn't take Benedict very long to cave. Between the magebane, the darkness, and the quiet, he's been an emotional wreck; he has outright refused to eat the rations slid to him through the slot in the door and would shout at the guard who put them there, a barrage of desperate pleas and empty threats.

As despair has settled in, Benedict has gone quieter, ending his hunger strike by picking at the tray even if he never finishes it, weeping often and becoming increasingly convinced that he's going mad.
Someone like him was never prepared for the likes of this.

Comments

[altusimperius]

Benedict has never felt anything like it. It siphons his energy, makes him feel half-blind, all his senses deadened, like being unable to walk properly in a dream while the world moves quickly around you.
His back is turned to the door when he hears a familiar voice, but he shudders angrily at the sound of it, curling in tighter. "Fuck off," he hisses, hoping that will be enough to keep the Templar at bay.

[paladingus]

Simon is not easily deterred by the average 'fuck off,' particularly when he really hadn't expected anything less. There are other guards; he doesn't have to be here, but...well. There's some part of him that still feels somehow compelled to at least see what isolation's done to the kid.

"Don't be like that. You're not exactly awash in options when it comes to conversation. And starving yourself is not going to improve anything about your situation, I can tell you that much."

[altusimperius]

Really he's only like this when someone's talking to him; through the majority of the day, Benedict is quiet and morose. Not knowing anyone here, not having any idea who he can trust or talk to, is taking its toll, particularly when most of the people who do talk to him are Templars.

"Yes, well, neither is eating," he points out with a curl of his lip, casting a disdainful glance over his shoulder. "I wouldn't feed that shit to a gutter slave." Ah, endearing.

[paladingus]

"There's that famous Tevinter charm." Simon's lip curls. "We're all terribly sorry that we don't have a buffet of quail eggs and tiny Orlesian cakes for slaves to hand-feed you, of course. Budget cuts. The austerity must be killing you."

He pauses, and looks away. He hadn't intended to stick around just to harass the prisoner. It's needlessly cruel.

"Look, they're not going to keep you in here forever. I'd ask why you wouldn't want to behave yourself and help your own case, but I suppose I wouldn't be much of a model prisoner either if your lot had me locked in a dungeon." He doubts very much that any Tevinter jailer would be as humane as the Inquisition has been.

[altusimperius]

Naturally, Benedict sulks in response, seemingly uninterested in keeping up too much of a banter. After several days of this, he's wise to the power dynamic, much as he may loathe it.
"How observant," he remarks flatly, turning away again.

[paladingus]

Simon takes the hint. "I can tell you'd rather the solitude," he says, shutting the tray slot and leaving the alleged inedible gutter slop for Benedict to eat at his leisure. "Enjoy."

[altusimperius]

If Simon could see Benedict's face, he'd observe the sneer that passes over it. But he doesn't answer, instead giving him the silent treatment. Stupid meathead Templar.