[ open + catch-all]

[degenere]

WHO: Val de Foncé or Nikos Averesch or Jester Lavorre or Salvio Pizzicagnolo or Darras Rivain or Matthias... and YOU. plus some closed stuff for the month.
WHAT: Guardian catch-all
WHEN: now
WHERE: Kirkwall probably
NOTES: I'll be adding some generic open starters but also tag me with something and I'll answer it also ok

Comments

[altusimperius]

If nothing else, making Benedict feel unique and important is the key to winning him over, so Val isn't doing half-bad. With a wry look, Bene receives the book and looks at it again, his dark eyes flitting over the passage in question and the next page.

"I don't think it's addressed at all," he muses, "an artistic choice, perhaps, or just ignorance."

[degenere]

"Is that so!"

Previously engaged in leaning forward and staring very hard at his new friend, Val, so answered, now leans back in his chair. To give him extra power of thought, he tips the chair onto its back two legs, keeping himself grounded by gripping at the edge of the table. A few thoughtful rocks.

"If it is artistic choice," he says, eventually, "then it was deliberate. Let us assume that is the case. So, the author chooses to leave vague the sex of this dragon. Does he perhaps wish for us, the reader, to see ourselves in the place of the narrator?"

[altusimperius]

"Maker, I don't know." This elicits an actual laugh, and, finally, Benedict takes a seat with one more uncertain glance at the locked door.
"I think you're giving them too much credit," he admits, "the writing really isn't that sophisticated."

[degenere]

If Val is at all concerned, or even aware, that they are together trapped behind the locked door, he shows no sign of it. He rocks forward on his chair once more, tipping it closer to the table as he considers.

"An unsophisticated work is perhaps even more fascinating. It contains that which its author thought, and felt, at the time of its writing, but its inclusion is more unconscious, yes? The author of sophistication might carefully couch or control that which is within his text. He would be more aware of it, at least. But the layman who pens mere smut--what might we learn of his mind, the mind and proclivities of a common man. And then," as he rocks back again, weighing this, "what if its lack of sophistication is purposeful?"

[altusimperius]

"I-- I suppose," Benedict stammers, struggling to follow the Orlesian's train of thought, but oddly charmed by it all the same. "...but if the idea is to emulate the mind of the common man, why not choose a more common subject?" That's two entirely separate genres of niche fiction!
"...and furthermore, if it does come from the hand of a sophisticate, is it genius or madness that we're seeing?"

[degenere]

"If the common man chooses to write of himself, grandly, what does that mean? What does he try to say, by presenting himself so? Does he comment not upon himself, but upon those grand fellows that he is imitating, in his words? The questions lead to more questions. This is how you know that it is a good problem to be considering."

Val tips the chair back, so he can lean closer to his conversational partner. There are very few who can keep up with him at all. This fellow is making a good show of it, at least. Not his equal, but a decent person to speak with. Imagine, finding that in Kirkwall! And with a man of Tevinter!

"Now. If it is the writing of a sophisticate. We might say, from the writing alone: he is a genius. But if we knew the author's identity, we would know so much more of him. His history, his peerage, his politics. Then we could say more for certain, of the text, and his intent."

[altusimperius]

It's not that Valentin is wrong, or even offensive, but the shifting complexities of the discussion are beginning to bore Benedict. His eyes don't glaze over, per se, but they do seem to come into sharper focus when the Orlesian leans back toward him, accompanied by a little smirk, perhaps of appreciation.
He's not bad-looking, for a southerner. Seems to think himself quite the intellectual, which isn't always a bad thing--better than the alternative, at any rate, someone who can't hold a conversation at all. And he dresses well, all things considered.

Could be worse.

Unfortunately, this is what Benedict is thinking about instead of what's being said, so when Val has finished speaking, there's a brief pause before the Vint gives a start and a "hmm?" as he meets his eyes once again.

[degenere]

"We were speculating," Val prompts, "on the identity of the author."

He tips his head, considering his conversational partner from a new angle. The smirk had made him think that his reasoning was causing some intellectual reaction, but now, he is not as certain.

But what, then, does the smirk mean?

"Perhaps you might tell me something of your identity. To help me to understand you, as a reader."

[altusimperius]

"My identity?"

Thinking himself not entirely caught out just yet, Benedict straightens, flattered but cautious. It's fortunate that his skin is on the darker side, and the faint heat that rises from his cheeks isn't as visible as it would be on someone of a lighter complexion-- but the keen of eye may still notice.

"...what do you want to know?"

[degenere]

"Oh," and Val makes a broad gesture, "any thing, I suppose. Where it is you are from, what it is that has brought you here, what it is you are about--if you study or if you busy yourself with some employment--even what sort of wine you enjoy could prove to be useful and interesting in this, yes?"

He tips back his chair again on this note, careless in this, but focused on his conversational partner, trying to suss him out.

"The last of these might be most telling. If you answer ale, I shall not be offended. I am Orlesian, of course, so much so that my blood is nearly a wine, but I do enjoy ale. It is often the only fitting drink that one finds while on the road."

[altusimperius]

His lips quirking into a smile, Benedict shakes his head. "Never cared much for ale," he admits, "I find it..." How best to phrase this, "...coarse. Wine, of course, is preferable. But you haven't really drunk it unless you've had it from a Tevene vineyard." (Tevintners)

"I'm from Minrathous, and my mother is a Magister in the Imperial Senate. In the Inquisition I serve as the chamberlain and have studies on the side." The nature of those studies doesn't need to be disclosed, not just yet.