[open] gay baby jail 2: son of gay baby jail

[altusimperius]

WHO: Benedict and Approved Visitors
WHAT: Treacherous Vint in a dungeon and he's just happy to be here y'all
WHEN: Kingsway
WHERE: below the mage tower (I think??)
NOTES: will update as needed

It might be at any hour of the day, though likely in the daytime, when one comes to find the dungeon's current occupant.
It's bizarrely nostalgic, that he should be in the same cell, on the same magebane, as he was several years ago when he first arrived in Kirkwall, kicking and fighting and shouting to anyone who would listen that he wasn't Venatori, dragged in and abandoned by his not-Not-Venatori mentor. He'd worked his way out from that, fought tooth and nail for two years to be someone worthy of freedom, of influence.

And now he's back. There's no kicking or shouting this time, and the young man seems a decade older. When he isn't sleeping, Benedict sits quietly on the bed, back straight, staring into space; he eats what he's given, magebane and all, without complaint. He doesn't speak unless spoken to, asks for nothing, and is on the whole so utterly unlike himself that it would likely be less surprising to learn he had been swapped out with a double, the real Benedict still in Minrathous making the same mistakes and never coming back.

But he's here, it's him, and he's at the mercy of any visitors-- good-standing members of Riftwatch only, of course-- who choose to make the trip downstairs.

Comments

[saam]

He may have seen her in the hallway, floating on the edge of the discussion without joining in, happy to let the door close. She knew when he arrived that this was clearly a matter concerning those who had been here longer than she.

That's over, now. She helped vote in the man's imprisonment. She may as well meet the bastard.

She knows he's Tevene, so her Qunari accent is especially thick when she knocks on the metal bars. "Hello, prisoner." Her smile isn't cruel, but it isn't kind, either. She wants to know what he'll make of it.

[altusimperius]

He doesn't say hello back, but turns to see who's there, and looks her over.

It's a woman Benedict has never seen before yesterday, but the way she stands, the way she looks at him, it's clear she belongs here. What business she has with him isn't clear, but he doubts that will matter.

[saam]

After all the derisive things she's heard about the man, she wasn't expecting him to go cold. It only emphasizes how important it is to get your own perspective on things, than listening to second-hand accounts.

She knocks again.

"I've heard a lot about you, Vint," because why not, she doesn't owe him anything. "Figure I should take a look for myself. Why don't we chat?"

[altusimperius]

It seems this is destined to go a certain way, and Benedict braces for it internally. At least he's alive, he thinks; they won't rescind his sentence as long as he cooperates.
Hopefully.

He nods to the woman, watching her face uncertainly.

[saam]

Interesting. A bit unexpected. Not for the first time, the wonders at the man's utility.

Her smile goes from aggressive to convivial, but the change is quick enough to be obvious. This isn't a man she needs to impress. "I'm Eshal. I was Qunari- the human kind, my horns didn't just fall off."

A shrug.

"I won't make you hash out everything you've been through; I've read the reports. But I'm curious about some other things, if you wouldn't mind opening that mouth of yours sometime before winter hits."

[sulahnan]

It's not that she intends to visit him--or even that she knows he's there. No, she's just meandering in her free time between assignments, between errands, and happens to pass by the tower, the small barred window at ground-level, and is stopped by mere curiosity.

She first tips her head, sees someone down there, then drops to her stomach to peer in closer, shielding her eyes from the sunlight to see better into the dark room. The dungeon?

"Wow," she says, recognizing the husk of a boy below. "You look like shit."

[altusimperius]

Giving a little start, Benedict looks up toward the window, and seems surprised to see a familiar face there.
Not so long ago, his instinct would've been to snap back with a counter-insult or a gripe, but instead he just looks at her, at a loss for words.

Yep, I sure do.

[sulahnan]

She's only heard second- or third- or even fourth-hand gossip about Benedict being gone in the first place, and surprisingly little about his return. To find him here? Some of those rumors must be true.

"So is this all a big misunderstanding, or did you royally fuck up while you were gone?" She says it lightly, resting her chin on the back of her hand while the other taps idly on the iron bars.

[altusimperius]

He can hear the mockery in her words, and winces faintly, but otherwise lets the question wash over him. Taking a deep breath, he sighs it out through his nose, angling his head away to look at the wall across from him.
"I fucked up," he says, definitively enough.

[sulahnan]

"Must've been pretty bad for you to end up down there, eh?" She flicks a piece of debris from the ground through the bars. No bigger than a pebble, but with her ears she can hear just how loudly it taps against the wall he's staring at.

Seems like a kind of sad, lonely place to be, even for someone she doesn't like all that much.

"What happened?"

[keenly]

As bad as it felt to leave Benedict, there wasn't really much choice. Then it was dawn, and it was all over.

Colin had to take a break or two during the day to gather himself, and ask obsessively about any executions that day. By the time afternoon came, he was fretting far too much not to march to the offices for answers. Did it get postponed? Did Benedict hang himself in his cell? Did they forget he was there? Did Colin hallucinate the entire thing?

Asking around enough, he gets an answer: there is to be no execution. At that point, he fled to the dungeons nearly as quickly as he had the first time. By the time he arrives, though, Benedict is out like a light. He turns up at Benedict's cell now and again throughout the day, but it's not until the next day that he finds him awake. Colin seems confused but smiling, and reaches through the bars as he did before.

"I've got to find a better way to hug you, if you're going to spend much time in here," he laughs.

[altusimperius]

Benedict looks better in just about every conceivable way, apart from wearing the same clothes. The terror is gone from his bearing, and he even smiles a little when he sees Colin, rising to his feet to come over and sheepishly take his hand. He leans forward, letting his forehead and one shoulder rest on the bars, seeming unable or unwilling to look Colin in the face.

"They're letting me live," he says quietly, still quite serious in the face of the cheerful greeting, "I won't expect anything more."

[keenly]

"That's wise." Two words Colin never thought he would say to Benedict two years ago. "You can never expect anything you didn't earn, and even then, you probably won't get it."

Welcome to being normal, Benedict. It sucks. You're going to love it. One arm is wrapped around Benedict now, and the other hand is in his. Maybe in the future, they'll open the cell door so Colin can come inside for his visits.

"And while you're alive, I can visit. And bring food, and whatever other approved luxuries I can bring."

[altusimperius]

Benedict just nods again, showing no sign that he's about to resort to his expected antics: complaining, playing for sympathy. There's a strange energy about him now, almost like a small child who's trying so hard to be good he's afraid to move.

"You don't have to," he says to the floor, "...you've done enough." Being with him on the worst night of his life far outweighs any treats anyone could bring.

[keenly]

"But I want to." Colin squeezes Benedict's hand. Something has changed about him. A lot has changed about him. Before, Benedict had a certain smarminess. Maybe it's the sheer trauma of the night before last, but he's not expecting anything he isn't entitled to. He's not asking for anything. In fact, he's assuming Colin doesn't want to the things he's offering to do for him--an attitude Colin relates to far, far too much. When they first met, Benedict was cute and sort of pathetic. Now, he's relatable. Another word might be common. And commoners are meant to stick together.

[byblow]

He's asleep, when Alistair shows up—or pretending, or trying, who knows. He looks asleep, is the point, and even if he only gets a little light in the cell, keeping a regular schedule can only be good for his health. To the extent Alistair personally cares about his health. Which is not very much.

The point is, he drags the thin wooden board he brought along to write on over the bars of the cell while he walks to the center, clattering the whole way, and he says, "Rise and shine."

[altusimperius]

Jolted awake by the sound, Benedict sits up quickly and looks around with a fearful widening of his eyes.
His gaze lands on the man now standing in his cell, and his first thought is that he's about to be tortured-- but after a moment, he realizes he recognizes him. ...and while maybe torture is on the table, it would be a bit strange, coming from him.

"You're a Warden," Benedict says, still waking up, trying to piece the situation together.

[byblow]

Maybe it isn’t very nice under the circumstances—

and he is not, actually, here to try to be mean, he just can’t really help teasing

—but he narrows his eyes.

“Who told you that?”

[altusimperius]

That garners a look of confusion mixed with a trace of fear: should he not know, is that something else to be pinned on him as evidence of his treason?
He has to think hard. How does he know? Because the Wardens always hang out in clumps and wear the same colors, but is that supposed to be a secret?? He doesn’t dare answer without being certain.

[gentlecountry]

It is a fine and beautiful morning, when Barty chooses to make his trek down to the dungeons for his visit. That is to say, it is sunny, and cloudless, and sailing fair fit to remain so for the entirety of the day. There are children, there are calling birds, and not all of them seagulls! The whole thing is a recipe for sunburn as sure as any Barty has ever had; no, thank you.

He'll take the nice, dank dungeon.

"Now, who haves we gots here," He says, coming even with Benedict's cell. As if he didn't know. As if it were possible for anyone with sense not to know, who Benedict Quintus Artemaeus was, "Ah, well. That's a damned shame it is. but! No sense in wasting yous downs here on nothing."

And yes, he's dressed in Warden colors. Most of Barty's clothes have the Grey Griffon on them, after all. He's got no reason to diversify.

[altusimperius]

Benedict is asleep, burritoed up in the ragged blanket he's been allotted, but the sound of the dungeon door opening is enough to rouse him. He can sense to a degree that the day is clear, though he can't see the sky through his small window: just the building across the courtyard, which goes up higher than he can crane his neck.

But he hears the birds, and sees the sunshine, which...

...is kind of a bummer, since he's stuck here. But at least he's got a visitor.

He curls his legs under him as he sits up on the bed, huddling the blanket around his shoulders in the morning chill. For the moment he just stares at the dwarf, still waking up, trying to remember if he's seen him before and glean why he might be down here.

[rathercommon]

It certainly takes a while before she visits. Which is a deliberate choice on her part, really. Why would she? First, Benedict is an arsehole and a complete idiot and she's got better things to do than waste her time on someone like that. And second, well - Suspicion comes and goes easily in wartime. It's better not to associate yourself with those who are under suspicion.

But now that second part's been blown up, and the first part by itself isn't quite enough to keep her away. So she comes.

She doesn't quite know what to say when she shows up, so she doesn't say anything, just leaning against the wall.

[altusimperius]

Benedict is sleeping, or at least... resting, lying prone on the bench in his cell that doubles as a bed and staring at the wall for lack of any other entertainment. He hears footsteps approach, and anticipates another questioning, opting to remain how he is until they begin.
But they don't. So he sits up slowly, blanket still wrapped around him, and squints out into the hall to see Kitty there.

He doesn't say anything either, regarding her with wariness. This is the visit he's been dreading the most.

[rathercommon]

She stands there a few moments longer as he stares at her. One beat passes, two - and then she lets out a noise of frustration and scuffs at the floor beneath her feet.

"Say something."

[altusimperius]

"What should I say."

He sounds tired, defeated. He knows he's in for a tongue-lashing no matter what happens, and there have been a fair few of them lately.