[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

[sulahnan]

If Flint is imposing to a short elf standing, he's doubly--no, triply so while she's slouched cross-legged on the floor, fraternizing with the prisoner. And it probably doesn't look good that her first reaction is to be startled, and her second reaction is to say, through a cloud of smoke: "Nothing."

Her smooth recovery necessitates her tacking on, with a jerk of her thumb in Benedict's direction: "Just talking to this nugget."

[altusimperius]

He’s never been happier that he chose not to do something.
Benedict flattens his back against the wall, uselessly imagining that it will make his presence less obvious to Flint.

He looks nervously at Athessa, hoping she won’t find a reason to make this- whatever “this” is— his fault.

[katabasis]

The lines of his face shift sharply - ranging hard across some undefined spectrum of frustration and anger (Artemaeus should be moved to an interior cell, deeper in the twisting hall of the dungeons. He should be harder to unearth that this) -, and then fix. He advances on the pair of them. The cell doesn't extend far enough to put enough distance between her and Benedict to disqualify them as together.

"And what, exactly, are you discussing?"

[sulahnan]

Well, at least Flint isn't asking any hard questions. Athessa shrugs.

"Why he's such a dumbass, mostly."

[altusimperius]

Bene looks at her, then at him. Then he shrugs timidly.

Yeah, basically

[katabasis]

For a moment, Flint stands over Athessa in the corridor among the drifting cloud of her smoke - fixing first her, and then Benedict with a cutting look.

"Then I would recommend," he says at last, attention swiveling back to her. His tone is very even despite all that pointed looming. "That you not waste your time. That you put him out of your mind."

[sulahnan]

She gets to her feet with a sigh she thinks would be befitting of a man like Flint. It's not that she's imitating him, just that she wishes she were his specific brand of badass, suddenly.

"Stumped you too, huh?" She crosses her arms and looks at Benedict like he's a problem to be solved. Clicks her tongue against her teeth, and unthinkingly offers the spliff to Flint. "Don't feel bad. His is an unknowable kind of stupid."

[altusimperius]

At that look, Benedict just looks down. Arms folded, he seems intent on making himself smaller, and also, more importantly, on not saying anything that would exacerbate the situation. Which in this case, means... not saying anything.

That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt, but he's getting better at weathering it when it means he gets to see tomorrow.

[katabasis]

The sharp point of his attention backs there like a knife finding some irregularity in the surface it's set against and skipping away with applied pressure. Oh good. At least they're both fucking morons.

He takes the joint, ashes it against the nearest bar of the cell, and pockets it.

"You have something better to do." It is not a question.

[sulahnan]

"Wh-" is as much of a protest as she musters, watching him pocket the joint with bereft disappointment. Aw, dang. Blessedly, though, she takes the hint.

"I do? Oh. Right, of course I do," Sigh. "Captain. Er--Commander. Captain Commander."

Athessa nods at Flint, then flicks a rude gesture--amicably--in Benedict's direction. Definitely friendlier than he deserves, but oh well. "Numpty," is his newly given rank in this awkward exit.

[altusimperius]

It's hard to see any friendliness in such a gesture, but Benedict does anyway. His expression is nonetheless a little confused as Athessa wanders away, only to solidify into something pointedly wary when he looks back to Flint.
If he's lucky, the Commander-- Captain?-- will leave too.