[open] tiptoe through the window

[altusimperius]

WHO: Benedict and yoooou
WHAT: though still very much under supervision, Bene is out of confinement and Ready To Party
WHEN: Wintermarch
WHERE: The Gallows mostly
NOTES: Always assume there's a Templar nearby. If you're the Templar, that should be easy

I. Out and About

If one didn't know Benedict is a prisoner, and if he weren't dressed in the plain garb of an Inquisition Nobody, one might think he's a visiting prince. Which... in a sense he is, though the visit is somewhat less on his terms and is still essentially captivity.
However, he is now allowed outside, able to walk around and do things and look at people, often with the kind of scrutinizing gaze one might expect from a duchess eyeing a lizard on the ground. He's not here to make friends, he's here to be Kirkwall's Next Top Model.
Or to just. ....wait things out. Whatever the case, he's in transit and acting very needlessly fancy about it.

II. The Library

He tried to continue his Boredom Strike within the quarters assigned to him by the Inquisition, but Benedict did, after some weeks, eventually cave. He's back to researching rifts and Old Gods and all that witch hunty rubbish that the south seems so keen on ascribing to Tevinter, half the time just making up nonsense to put in his notes in the off-chance anyone is actually paying attention. In these moments he looks less like a stuck-up princeling and more like a petulant schoolboy, doodling on his parchment and doing just about everything in his power to ensure nobody thinks they're the boss of him.

III. Wildcard

Dare ye visit his chambers in the old Templar tower? Catch him dining with the unwashed masses or encountering snow, which has become his newest mortal enemy? (Hit me up if you want a specific prompt.)

Comments

Wildcard: General Store

[keenly]

A bell is hung on the door and it rings when it opens. Colin is squatting over the floor, arranging bars of soap on a bottom shelf.

"Come in," he says without looking up. "Something I can help you find?"

[altusimperius]

Though he has no spending money, Bene has reason to believe certain Templars can be wheedled into believing he needs certain things to make his work better-- or, if all else fails, they can be convinced to waste their time in favor of his having a little control over his life.
He peruses the shelves as slowly as a grandma in a porcelain doll shop, not really looking at anything yet taking all the time in the world to do it.
"Mmn," he grunts to Colin, hoping the shopkeep doesn't catch on. If he says he's looking for something in particular, the idiot will try to help him, and the game will be over.

[keenly]

"Beg pardon?" Colin stands up and looks at the man. Welp. He's seen this sort of look before. With a sigh, he meanders toward the counter, where he keeps a bludgeon, though he doesn't take it out yet. He's not one hundred percent certain yet that this man is a shoplifter, but it's worth preparing for.

"Just coming in from the cold, I take it?" he asks casually, although they don't exactly have to spend much time outside just to travel between buildings.

[altusimperius]

"I don't need help," Benedict clarifies, with a wave of his hand that communicates 'settle down until you're wanted'. He casts a glance back at his bored Templar escort, hoping he hasn't caught on.

1

[foundmyselfagain]

It’s not an expression that Gareth is unfamiliar with, though he’s rather curious as to what he’s done this time to be inflicted with it. Not curious enough to approach the first time, but after seeing him another time or two around the Gallows, Gareth eventually takes it upon himself to figure out what the heck is this guy’s damage.

“I can’t remember the last time we had someone fancy enough to get a constant escort around the place. Do you think that an abomination is gonna pop up on you? Because, honestly? That’s fair. I can point out the most likely locations, if you want.”

[altusimperius]

Bene's first inclination is to assume he's being mocked, and by this dirty-looking little wretch that's extra insulting. He wrinkles his nose in disdain. "I know how to prevent possession," he says with a sneer, "I'm not an idiot."

[foundmyselfagain]

"I didn't say that it was you who was getting possessed," Gareth replies amiably. "Nor did I call you an idiot, so that's all on you. I'm just saying, you're in the Gallows." A small gesture around him, just in case Benedict forgot. "Where the main export used to be abominations and horrific abuse of mages. But now it's just, like, the fifth. Pretty far down there. I guess the slave statues are the first, now that they got rid of those." Another gesture, presumably to wherever the slave statues used to be.

II Library

[judgemewhole]

James was the one who had taken over 'walking the Princeling' duty today - mostly because he wanted to give everyone else a break. Honestly, guarding Bene was a long, long day of being looked at like you were something he'd scrap off your boot, along with watching him sulk about. Honestly, Bene was supposed to be a man's age but his parents must have treated him like he was a five year old boy.

So here they were in the library, James was standing off to the side, meditating, while he glanced over at Bene scribbling. He arched an eyebrow at what he could read.

"... that sounds like total bollocks."

[altusimperius]

Out of all the Templars, Norrington is the one of whom Bene is most wary. He's uncharacteristically docile when walking around with him, if only because he knows any form of protest or conversation would likely end badly.
However, self-control isn't always his strong point, and the boy has a mouth on him. At James' observation, he rolls his eyes and mutters "no shit, Ser Brilliance."

[judgemewhole]

James arches a cool eyebrow at Bene, before he states simply and flatly, "Would you like to explain why you are giving the Inquisition bollocks research then? Or are you really just that petulant to let a giant darkspawn take over the world without giving it real effort?"

wildcard!!

[ragweed]

It's dining with the unwashed masses for this dwarf. Better than the washed masses. They're all stuffed up sods.

Kind of like Benedict.

Whether he's paying attention to his surroundings or not, Kit doesn't much disguise his approach towards Benedict's table. Nor does he made a show about sliding into the seat across from him with his cigarette, a bowl of hot winter stew, and a mug of ale to wash it all down with. But there's no lazy smile or relaxed greeting to go along with his arrival either, likely because in the intervening days since their last conversation, he's kept his distance.

(To be fair, most of it wasn't personal. Kit's life is gradually unraveling at the seams.)

He sits there a couple of seconds, studying Benedict. "Hey," he says at last.

[altusimperius]

Though still a bit picky, Benedict learned from his months incarcerated that he should eat what he can get when he can get it. So it's a bit slow going, and he's not enjoying it, per se, but he's focusing on eating when Kit approaches and plants in front of him.
Bene looks up, glancing him over with a 'yes?' look about him, clearly wanting to tread carefully and not knowing quite how.

[ragweed]

Kit looks from Benedict's uncertain expression to the Templar lurking behind him. He can't very well tell the chaperone of the hour to shove off, much though he wishes he could. Instead, he just tries to put them out of his mind, looking back to Benedict again with a grimace.

"I want us to talk," he starts, "about our chat in your quarters the other day."

He sticks a spoon in his stew and turns it over a bit, but it's still too hot to tuck into yet. "I'm going to go out on a ledge and say you don't get why I was upset."

II. The Library

[justice_is_blond]

He eyes the Templar guard hovering near Benedict with narrowed eyes but says nothing as he comes over. Something about the situation seems off, but he can't quite put his finger on it. Maybe later. For now, he's leaning over to read something that is... absolutely inaccurate when it comes to rifts as far as Anders knows and he gives the younger mage a confused look.

"Are you all right?" It's possible they've drugged Benedict and that's the reason for the nonsense.

[altusimperius]

Bene's eyebrows raise when he hears someone addressing him, though he doesn't look up until he's finished with the current stroke. Then, when he sees who it is, he sits up a little straighter, clearly glad to see someone who doesn't suck (like Ser Gareth here).
"Bored out of my brain," he replies, almost cheerfully.

[justice_is_blond]

That makes the notes make sense. Anders shakes his head with a snort.

"I've always found research fascinating. All the information that's tucked away, some of it forgotten until you find it out and bring it up to the wrong person and get dragged in front of the Knight Commander again..." He trails off, shaking his head. "At least those days might be over. Is there nothing that interests you enough to actually dig into?"

I

[aforethought]

Most people are clever enough not to throw snowballs near large, armed men.

Most people.

It's a brisk morning in the Inquisition courtyard when a wet ball of slush smacks unceremoniously into the back of his head. The only other figure in the courtyard appears to be whistling. As innocent as the rain. Sleet. Currently unclouded sky, whatever.

[altusimperius]

Benedict pitches forward with a yelp, landing on his hands and knees and giving a violent shudder as he hits the ground. He feels the back of his head in horror, but is relieved to find only cold water and ice, no arrow or stone protruding from his skull. One can't be too careful.
Still on his knees, he looks up and frantically around for his assailant. The Templar turns slowly, knowing this is a waste of time but that the boy is supposed to be protected. Or whatever.

[aforethought]

Piss, that's the best reaction she's ever gotten. It's one for the record books. It's what slackens her jaw a moment, mid-whistle — just in time for his guard to turn and see.

Her hand's full, of course. Hefting this bucket, right here, and the ladle within. No way she could've shaped and tossed it, no matter how suspiciously cheerful's that wave of a stump.

Totally.

(If the templar turns back to his work, it's not Benedict's back to catch the next lump of slush.)

ii. the library

[thunderproof]

There are some things Adalia has gotten used to in the world outside Candlekeep. She can use her magic when and how she likes, with no fear of reprisal. She can be as loud as she likes whenever she likes, and no one can stop her. She can even, if she is feeling very daring, write herself notes in the margins of her own books. The things which might have earned her terrible punishment in Candlekeep are nothing here, and she's grateful for that.

What she will never get used to, though, is the way some others treat library books. It's one thing to write in a book you own — it still feels transgressive to Adalia, but in the end no one is hurt but the person to whom the book belongs, and why should they care if they're defacing their own book, presumably with a purpose? It is entirely another, though, to write in a book someone else will need to read. Adalia has been watching this boy sitting at the table opposite her writing in a book he doesn't own for ten minutes now, getting more and more aghast as he just. Keeps. Doing it.

Someone has to stop him. It doesn't matter that the consequences won't be near as grave as in Candlekeep, he still must be stopped.

"Where I'm from," she says pointedly, voice raised just enough to carry across their two tables, "you would be blinded and your hands cut off for writing in a book belonging to the library."

[altusimperius]

Benedict glances up when he's addressed, but a twitch of his eyebrows suggests he's not terribly affected. He doesn't cease his doodling.
"Where I'm from, you could be flogged for speaking to me," he boredly replies, "but nobody here gives a shit."

[thunderproof]

What a pleasant person. Adalia narrows her eyes, but returns her gaze to her own book, seemingly leaving it alone.

Seemingly being the operative word, because not three minutes after she's looked back at her own books, the boy doodling in the margins of a goddamn library book will feel a suddenly freezing wind across the back of his neck. Should he turn to look, the culprit will be nowhere in sight. As soon as he looks back to his book and becomes comfortable again, the freezing breeze will be back, until he turns around and the cycle repeats itself.

This will go on as long as it takes for him to stop doodling, to confront Adalia, or to look beneath his chair, where he will be faced with a tiny dragon, who will breathe ice in his face and fly over to Adalia. One of the three.

II --Library

[misdirection_hex]

"Oh, good." It is a remarkable talent of Vandelin's, his ability to appear seemingly and soundlessly out of nowhere, though it helps a great deal when his target isn't paying attention. He leans on the wall by the desk, watching Bene deface the library book and smirking as if conspiratorially amused--not at Bene's expense, but as with a shared joke. "Now I'll only be the archivists' second least favorite person."

"Not likely," snorts the burly templar nearby. Vandelin cheerfully ignores this.

[altusimperius]

Though he gives a start, Bene quickly warms to the sight of Vandelin, and rests his chin on one hand as he sets his pen down.
"And second most handsome," he says with a cheerful waggle of his eyebrows, "have you come to save me?"

[misdirection_hex]

All right, now it's a bit easier to speculate what anyone sees in this kid, when they do. Vandelin's taught enough smartmouthed apprentices to be familiar with the tactic, but it keeps the smile on his face anyway when it might otherwise have dropped.

"I've got this guy beat in the knight-in-shining-armor department any day," he says. "It just so happens that we need open space for the lesson I planned, so as reluctant as I know you'll be, we're going to have to leave the library behind."