[open] when you talk to me I'll hear you out

[altusimperius]

WHO: Benedict, anyone who isn't on the Rivain trip and/or banned from visiting the dungeons
WHAT: Bene's out of solitary and ready for friendly visitors!
WHEN: vaguely during the current plot, but kind of whenever
WHERE: the Gallows dungeon
NOTES: There will always be a Templar guard present, so murder attempts will unfortunately be thwarted.

Benedict has been once again granted the basic human dignity of being able to see and hear what's going on around him, at least as long as it's within the walls of the Gallows dungeon. It's a place built for mages, and the shackles he still wears keep his magic muted alongside the magebane that keeps him lethargic and unable to cast.
Sharp objects are out of the question, so his normally pristine lower face is stubbled in a way that would look quite ruggedly handsome on someone less haughty and miserable. And he's been wearing the same prison shift he was put in after his clothes finally became too unbearable, which is an insult in itself. Unlike Atticus, he no longer goes to the library, or outside at all, unless for a very good reason decided by someone other than himself.

He's still not a pleasant conversation partner, but Benedict is here and at the disposal of any visitors who might want to see the less cordial captive Vint.

Comments

[faithlikeaseed]

"Does anyone?"

It's an honest question, not cruel in tone or intent. (Even if there is a nasty little whisper of what's he so upset about, he's had everything handed to him in the back of Myr's head.)

[altusimperius]

Myr might as well have just punched him in the face. Bene stares for a moment in affronted silence, the words weaseling their way through his mind, which has become much more pliant lately, inviting all manner of doubt. No one has rescued him yet. Maybe no one will.

"...fuck off," he murmurs, almost as an afterthought, and fully without the usual venom.

[faithlikeaseed]

...Well. That's an answer.

Myr chews at his lower lip as he considers it, then says quietly, "I'm sorry." Spoiled brat or not, a child deserved consideration from his parents--or his mentor--or someone. Trust Tevinter to screw that one up.

[altusimperius]

"Just go away," Benedict mutters, and even if Myr can't see him turn away, surely he perceives it by the change in the boy's voice. The conversation is over, whether Myr wants it to be or not.