EVENT: TRUTH BOMB

[faderifting]

WHO: Anyone
WHAT: TRUTH BOMB
WHEN: Bloomingtide 15-17
WHERE: The Gallows
NOTES: OOC information. Use appropriate content warnings in your subject lines, please.

It’s an ordinary day—so not a very pleasant one. The weather is dreary and muggy, and the day’s lunch is a soup that’s a little too watery and bland. The griffons are being their usual level of noisy and swoopy. The work is its usual level of urgent and difficult.

But in the storage rooms, something wiggles. Then it hums. Then it pops.

Outside of the storage room, there’s no actual sound, no shift in the wind, and no visible sign of a change. But the pop might be felt—like the moment something finally clicks, or two ideas suddenly fit together, except the opposite. In the heads of everyone in the fortress, something is suddenly not connected quite right.

The first sign of what’s gone wrong is that someone immediately stands up and tells the cook how bad the soup is.

A lot of people’s days are about to get exponentially worse.

Comments

[altusimperius]

"No, probably not, but I mean... women have never been an issue." He sounds strained in declaring this, gingerly pushing the hair back out of his face.
Seemingly intent on getting the focus off himself, he changes tacks. "What things?"

[keenly]

The compulsion is too strong now, but frankly, this was going to have to be a conversation anyway. Colin rakes his fingers through his hair anxiously.

“I, um. My only, ah, experiences with sex? Have been...cruel.”

Not really sex at all, some would say, but that’s merely a method of soothing or dismissing the experience, which is nonetheless impactful on any attempt at real sex.

[altusimperius]

"..oh."
Benedict can tell that Colin is referring to something somewhat beyond his understanding: he knows what he means, on a basic level, but has never experienced anything like it or, as far as he knows, been close to anyone who has.

Momentarily at a loss, he looks at the ground, struggling for something to say. "...well that's no good."

[keenly]

“Do you...still want to do it?”

There’s some hope, he guesses, in that Benedict hasn’t bolted for the door yet. But a bit of fun might seem now misleading to him, now that he knows there is some baggage to consider.

[altusimperius]

The question seems to surprise Benedict, and he blinks several times before offering an expression that seems to say 'uh, duh?'
"I mean," he offers in return, "I've never actually--"
An awkward pause follows as he clamps down on what was nearly (as far as he's concerned) an overshare, but the compulsion remains to finish the sentence. "...like really... done the thing."

[keenly]

There’s a surprised silence, then a smile dawns over Colin’s face.

“What, really?” It’s not a judgment. If anything, it’s a bit of a relief to know he’s not going into this with as much of a handicap as he believed. “With anyone, or just with a man?”

[altusimperius]

On being asked, Benedict is quick to look embarrassed-- and he's not sure why, it's not like he's supposed to be doing it anyway, but if there's one thing that's seemingly universal among men, it's that they all have to know everything regardless of partner.
"...anyone," he says, in a mumble. "Other than, you know. Fooling around."

[keenly]

“They’re always painting Tevinter as some continuous, slave-whipping, demon-summoning orgy, so I’m a bit surprised. But, all right.” A shrug. “We’ll figure it out together.”

[altusimperius]

This makes Benedict laugh, though even he dreads the words as they exit his mouth: "nobody wants slaves at these things, they'd kill the mood."
The smile remains beneath eyes that are suddenly intensely anxious. "Well goodbye," he says quickly, and gets up to abscond before Colin or anyone else can formulate commentary.

[keenly]