[closed] I want to take a walk

[altusimperius]

WHO: Benedict, Kit, possibly others
WHAT: somebody dumb got himself lost in lowtown
WHEN: after this trainwreck
WHERE: Lowtown
NOTES: everything will be fine

It's amazing, actually, that he's looking to make it through the night.
Not knowing where exactly he hopes to end up, Benedict has been weaving his way through Kirkwall away from the docks, dodging lanterns and keeping away from other people in case one of them turns out to be a Templar. He's like an indoor cat put outside for the first time: disoriented, skittish, and in completely over his head.

Dawn has begun to filter through the clouds when Benedict, exhausted from fear and exertion, sinks down behind a barrel and curls up there. He's cold, starving, dehydrated, and terrified, but also incredibly lost. Might as well take a moment to collect himself.

Comments

batdwarf here to save the day

[ragweed]

On the one hand, he chose to curl up behind a barrel damn close to Darktown.

On the other hand, Kit happens to live damn close to Darktown.

(At one point, one of his fellows in the Legionnaires remarked upon Kit's remarkable ability to survive decades in the Deep Roads as meaning he had a 'bronto shoe up his ass.' He's starting to think there's something to that.)

Glimpsing the hunched, frightened shape just out of his peripheral vision, Kit frowns and takes a few cautious steps closer--just close enough to recognize that terrified silhouette. It gives him flashbacks to the kid's time in solitary. Ancestors be damned.

"Hey, salroka," he says rather gently, putting their old fight behind them. Now's not the time. "Do I even want to know what happened here?"

[altusimperius]

Benedict has nearly dozed off when he hears a familiar voice and awakens with a start. His first instinct is to flee, but when he sees it's Kit, he's so relieved he nearly bursts into tears.
"Kit," he whimpers, "it was awful, I-- I don't know what to do."

[ragweed]

Well he obviously didn't intend to escape on his own. That puts one concern to bed.

They're close enough to Kit's hovel that it makes far more sense to get Benedict there first to get the full story, than to drag him down to the docks. If there's reprisal for it later, Kit's willing to face the consequences.

"C'mere," he says and extends a hand down to help the snivelling (and admittedly cherished) brat up to his feet. "My place is nearby. You hungry? I bet you're hungry."

He's got his crystal out already, and looks like he's preparing to put a call in to someone--Beleth, most likely.

[altusimperius]

Taking Kit's hand easily, Bene straightens and brushes himself off, then hugs himself to rub his arms. It's cold out here, and he's never felt cold like this, permeating deep into his bones.
"I'm starving," he admits, trailing along with Kit, but as soon as he sees the crystal he balks.
"They can't know I'm here, no one can know," he hisses, terrified, "they'll put me back in the dungeon, I'll go back in--" He presses his fingertips to his mouth and shakes his head. "Please don't. Please. I'll do whatever you want."

[ragweed]

Immediately, he stops. He might regret this later, but he's going with his gut here.

"No one is putting you back in a dungeon. All right?" That much he says firmly, and he'll be willing to fight a dude over it, if push comes to literal shove. Still, he exhales tiredly and gives Benedict a look of clear annoyance, because damn if this kid isn't putting him in a real pickle. He shakes his head. "Come on."

He leads the way through a few more dark, curving roads towards a hovel at the end of a street. Someone does attempt to mug them once, but Kit wrestles the guy off and sends him on his way with a kick to his ass like this is basically just an everyday event for him (it probably is). When they reach the front door to his place of residence, there is likewise a homeless guy sleeping propped up in the doorway. Kit doesn't move oust him, but steps right over him and inside the house, which looks... homier.

(Probably this guy's unwitting influence. He hangs around enough, though he isn't there tonight.)

"Go on, sit down," he tells Benedict and points at a chair near the wood stove. He goes to heat up whatever old stew is on it from the night before. "And tell me what the hell you're doing out of the Gallows--and don't lie about it, either." He gives him a serious look. "Nothing I can do to help you if you start lying to me now. Got it?"

[altusimperius]

Benedict is, at least, able to recognize when it's time to shape up and tell the truth. He's even more frightened by the time they arrive, and isn't about to do anything that would dig himself deeper, an instinct it appears he is finally beginning to develop.
Shivering by the fire, he edges closer to it and tries not to think about the people they encountered. A different world entirely from the one he knows, yet it seems all too real now. "I met a friend from Minrathous," he murmurs, "he's come here with his brother, and he said he could get me home. On his ship."
He stares into the flames, fidgeting with a strand of his hair. "But the ship was sinking when we got there. And the people who-- well I don't know who they were, they attacked us. And a Templar showed up, and I... I ran." He's not proud, which is another step in the right direction.
Burying his face in his hands, he shudders. "They almost cut my throat again," he whimpers, "I-- I just want to go home, I didn't want any of this."

[ragweed]

To Kit, this sounds an awful lot like a second botched assassination attempt, but he's careful not to let onto that in his response to Benedict. This man he met was a friend, supposedly.

He ladles some of the stew into a bowl, then pours some watered down whiskey into a clean-ish glass. Carrying them both over to the table, he sets them down in front of him and points at it. "Eat," he instructs, though not unkindly, then sighs and eases himself down into a different seat. For the moment he does nothing but light himself a cigarette and take a drag from it, thinking.

Slowly, reluctantly, he says, "I've got to tell Scoutmaster Ashara. Don't panic," he adds immediately, predicting Benedict's reaction. "But if we don't tell her what happened, it's just going to be worse for you down the road. You've got to trust me here."

[altusimperius]

Benedict nods to Kit in acknowledgment when he receives the bowl, the closest thing anyone's gotten to a thank you; then, the least picky that he's ever been, he digs into the stew without hesitation. It's been a long night, and he's ravenous.

Lifting his head abruptly when Kit mentions Scoutmaster Ashara, Benedict nearly protests, but he's placated. Trust Kit. He can do that. Kit is one of the only people he can trust, that he knows of.
"...I'll go back," he says timidly, scraping up the last bits of stew from the bowl, "I'll... I won't put up a fight, if she'll promise to keep me out of the dungeon."

[ragweed]

"You are not going to need to fight," Kit assures him. He holds his gaze past the haze of smoke, then idly reaches out a cigarette and hands it over to Benedict. "Go on," he says, nodding to the lit candle on the table, "knock yourself out. It's been a shit day."

Then he fetches out the crystal worn around his neck and activates it. "Hey, Beleth," he starts, pauses, then adds, "are you alone?" The look he also gives to Benedict should make it clear he shouldn't make a sound, not yet.

[altusimperius]

Taking the cigarette with a shaking hand, Bene lights it and puts it to his mouth with the barest nod of acknowledgment. He won't fuck it up.

[arlathvhen]

If Beleth were in a better mood, and if it weren't Kit of all people who was asking, she might have made a joke. As it stands, there's a pause, then a noise of scraping wood, rustling around, and then metal clinking as she locks her door.

"Yes, I am. Are you alright, Kit?"

[ragweed]

"Yeah," Kit says through a grimace, rubbing a hand over his face, in the universal sound that indicates 'nope, but I'm going to pretend I'm all right.'

"Yeah, I'm fine. Look," he adds, because a story like this always requires a 'look' to precede it. "Benedict's outside the Gallows, but he's with me now. He's all right." A quick glance his way. Mostly.

[arlathvhen]

There's a tired sigh on her end. Then a pause, and another sigh for good measure. "I'm glad that you're both alright," Or at least Benedict is alright, and Kit isn't dead or distressed enough for him to admit that he's not alright. "But he's not allowed to leave the Gallows without permission. Is Myr with him? He's supposed to be watching him while the Templars are...indisposed."

Does she need to put bells on Bene. Maybe if she makes it look Tevinter fashiony.

[ragweed]

Kit nods. And nods again. He rubs two fingers against the bridge of his nose, squeezes his eyes shut, and nods one more time for good measure. "Yeah. Yeah," he adds again at appropriate times. Then, "Myr?" with some surprise. Man, this organization has got to get better at communicating with each other, don't they?

"No, Myr's not here, it's--he got tricked," he says, and gives Benedict a look that says 'well you did, didn't you?' "Someone he thought was a friend took advantage of him. None of this shit was his fault, he just wants to come back to the Gallows."

All right, maybe 'wants' is a strong work, but it's close enough.

[arlathvhen]

And a third, longer, pained sigh follows. There's more rustling noises, and then the clinking of glass, because Beleth is too sober to deal with all of this. Briefly, she ponders if these kinds of things are always happening in the Inquisition, and she is just, unfortunately, the only one who can field them at the moment. On top of those mysterious Tevinters who showed up on her doorstep--

--Could it be connected? Nah.

"Did the friend try to slit his throat this time, too?" A pause. He should be punished, but she remembers that meeting with Benedict. That fear in his eyes when he had been told he had to go back. "Well, I'm already getting him off magebane without asking anyone, what's one more nail. Tell Artemaeus that he can come back, with no repercussions, as long as he agrees to not tell anyone about it. Especially Templars. Just--Take him to Myr."

A moment of thought follows. "And, I don't know. I guess Artemaeus can't get completely off the hook. Tell him if he pulls this again, I'm putting Valentine de Foncé in charge of watching him. Wait--would he even get that's a joke? Nevermind. Just get him back in one piece."

[ragweed]

"Did the friend try to slit his throat this time, too?" comes Beleth's innocuous inquiry, and aghast, Kit looks back at Benedict with the most sincere, apologetic look on his face he can manage. Shit. She'd meant that as a joke, but--well, shit.

It takes him a moment to gather his thoughts, but then he volunteers, "Can I at least wait to get some food and drink into him? The kid's parched and starving, Ancestors only know how long he's been out here." Adding quickly, "I'll be discreet getting him back to the Gallows."

[altusimperius]

When 'you got tricked' becomes the question, Benedict hesitates, then shrugs noncommittally; yeah, something like that. He'd argue and say that technically he begged Loki to take him, and Loki didn't seem to know that the ship would be sinking or that they'd be snatched, but if being tricked means he gets off the hook a little easier, then that's what happened.

A wounded look meets Kit's when Beleth jokes about throat-slitting; the scar is gone, but there's a new bruise nearby from where the ruffian held him with yet another knife against his throat. It's not only too soon, she isn't completely wrong.

[arlathvhen]

“Yes, of course.” Beleth replies easily enough, blessedly ignorant of just how accurate her comment had been. It’s not her fault Benedict keeps getting nearly coup de gráced. “He can rest too, if he needs it. I’ll explain to Myr, I’m sure he’ll understand. This will serve as a good transition from the Templars to the mages, anyway. Just let us know when you’re on the boat here, and we’ll meet you two.”

There’s a few moments of silence, before she continues. “And if you get discovered...tell them you were following my orders. I’ll take care of it. But...I’d prefer to avoid that.” Briefly, she ponders if Benedict will understand, much less appreciate, just how far she’s sticking her neck out for him. But she isn’t doing it for that. She’s doing it because it’s right.

Hopefully, that’ll be enough.