[open] the way it feels to be just anyone

[altusimperius]

WHO: Benedict and you
WHAT: catch-all
WHEN: Bloomingtide
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: will give warnings as needed. hit me up if you want a starter!

I. The Library

Performing his chamberlain duties in the daytime and studying magic in the evenings doesn't leave Benedict a lot of time for leisure, and in fact the hours he would have spent drinking or playing cards are now occupied in the little office he sets up every night at one of the library tables. It's here that he writes letters, several scrolls weighted down in front of him which list Tevinter's major families and their relations, spread all across the country and ripe for persuasion.

Sometimes he can be found writing fervently, a cup of tea sitting untouched and forgotten beside his scribbling quill; more than once he's fallen asleep there, his face smudged with ink as it rests atop the desk.

II. The Gallows Courtyard

On the rare occasion that he's out of real work to do, Benedict can sometimes be found sitting on the steps of the tower with his parchment board and a quill or stick of charcoal, idly drawing the surrounding architecture. The sketches are loose, but hone in with great detail on things like the flourish in a column or a specific pattern of tilework; he shows little interest in the denizens going about their day, and in fact makes a little face of irritation if ever someone steps in the way.

III. Wildcard

do ur worst



for Solas

With the warming weather, Benedict has felt more comfortable taking his magical studies outside to practice in the open. Well, semi-open-- still afraid of being heckled at the proper training grounds, he opts instead for the herb garden in the evenings, where he can take his time and maintain a relatively low level of anxiety.

The barrier is something he mastered ages ago, but Benedict's skill in it has weakened with his resolve; he can't seem to keep it going under duress, which has led him to try a visibly stronger method: the Rift barrier, as he saw Solas conjure when Kirkwall was besieged by ghosts.
Benedict is able to draw a brief form: a slab, part of a wall, which remains for several seconds and then disintegrates, much to his aggravation.

If he can't make a simple barrier work, no matter its material, he can't protect himself.


for Kitty

It's been more than a few days, but the Inquisition is like that: people get busy and stay busy, with less time than they hoped for side projects. So it's more like several weeks later when Benedict next visits Kitty in the library, walking in with his posture straight and his eyes bright, hopeful.

"Any luck?"


for Marcoulf

There's been no reason to talk to the little ferret-face, save perhaps for a gnawing conscience that rears its head every time Benedict remembers that awful night and the subsequent conversations. Perhaps he was too unkind to him-- perhaps he's afraid of Marcoulf still, even after everything. But he can't have this nonsense hanging over his head, not when anxieties are at an all-time high and the whole world seems unbalanced.

So he approaches Marcoulf one night, sauntering up next to him and leaning against a nearby pillar, where he lights a cigarette and just... stands there. One of them will speak first. Maybe.

Comments

love u

[dirth]

"Then you are relying too heavily on your emotions. It will do nothing more than cause you harm." Solas steps around him, looking him up and down - eyeing his posture, his stance, the way he is summoning and using magic. A typical Tevinter boy, he thinks; it reminds him a little of Dorian, using elven technique without understanding the history.

"How do you feel when you are able to cast a barrier? What state are you in at those times?"

Re: love u

[altusimperius]

A miserable sigh, and Benedict just nods-- he's not going to argue that, not even with an elf. This elf is different, and has made that clear.

"It's just a drill when I can do it," he says, a bit of a whine in his voice, "it would have been practice. But then when I actually had to do it, it didn't work." He lowers his hands, head drooping a bit.
"...and I haven't been able to do it since."

[dirth]

It's good, at least, that he seems willing to listen. That is somewhat different from many of the others he has had the misfortune to meet in this place; they seem rather obsessed with themselves rather than taking advice. It is one of the reasons he has been so reticent to teaching.

"Then you were afraid, or under pressure. Magic reacts to your emotions, and knowing that you were afraid and pushing yourself would not have done you well." Solas shakes his head. "Begin with a small one. Try to cover your hand."

[altusimperius]

It's not that Benedict isn't also obsessed with himself, because he is: he just also needs to be able to make a barrier, and one thing is leading to another.

"...that makes sense." He sighs through his nose, holding out his left hand and squinting from the gleaming light of the anchor shard embedded therein. But rather than let it distract him, he furrows his brow, fanning the fingers of his right hand to draw out a thin, tactile web from the Fade, looping it around until his other hand is shielded.

Then, another sigh, this one of relief. He can still do it.

[dirth]

There it is. Solas cannot quite stop himself from a small hum of delight; there is something wonderful about watching someone understand the nature of magic - as twisted and deplorable as it is in this version of the world. At least it is something, which is better than not having it at all.

"Now all you must do is begin to make it larger and larger. Try to enlarge it to your elbow, and then your shoulder. After that... We shall see how you do."

[altusimperius]

A shudder, and it's gone, but intentionally-- he tries again, makes it nearly to his elbow, and it blinks out again, but perhaps he's trying too much, too soon.
Looking down for a moment, it takes Bene a bit of courage to angle his head toward the elf and offer him a nod. "...thank you."

[dirth]

"You asked me to be your teacher." Solas shakes his head, crossing his arms behind his back and stepping away. He watches Benedict for a long, drawn-out moment before he breathes out and tilts, just a little, to watch him properly, something like a smile quirking on his face.

"It is good to see that you can listen to instruction."

[altusimperius]

The smile is returned, however wryly. "Just because I'm Tevene doesn't mean I don't listen to people," Bene replies (and only half accurately), but inclines his head all the same.

"...is forming it with the shard that much different?"

[dirth]

"You would be one in a thousand, then." Solas doesn't quite return the smile, softening a little before he breathes out, looking Benedict over again. At least he is listening, which is more than can be said for some.

"I have never had a shard, so I could not say. It might make the shield more powerful."

[altusimperius]

"Sorry, I meant-- the way you do it." Benedict shakes his head. "Maybe not with the shard, but the barrier you made was different. It looked like a rift."

[dirth]

"Ah, I see." Solas pauses for a moment, contemplating. "I do not think it is very different. It is only the focus that changes. Traditional barriers, I imagine, come from a connection with the power you carry and some measure of understanding of the Fade. Rift magic is far more focussed on the Fade and the Veil, understanding the nature of it and how best to use it."