[open] far from my mother's home

[altusimperius]

WHO: Benedict and you
WHAT: October catch-all
WHEN: throughout Harvestmere
WHERE: Kirkwall dungeon/gay baby jail
NOTES: will add if necessary

For Riftwatch members in good standing, there's a built-in captive audience residing in a cell below the Kirkwall mage tower. One barred window peeks out onto the dreary courtyard, and on the opposite wall an interior door opens onto a dark, torchlit hallway, a bench placed on the wall facing in for the comfort of guests and interrogators.

Inside the cell, every day is the same. Sometimes Benedict is sleeping on the little bed supported by chains from the wall, sometimes he's pacing, sometimes he's standing on his toes to rest his chin on the windowsill, hands gripping the bars to keep himself upright, starved for any form of stimulation whatsoever.

Increasingly, he can be found sitting or lying on the floor of his cell, staring at the ceiling or fiddling with the straw scattered on the floor, bending and twisting it in such a way that, on closer inspection, he might be trying to figure out how to weave it.

Visitors will find him quite receptive, even excited to see them. Unless they're Flint.

Comments

pre-Nevarra

[sulahnan]

This time, when she ventures back down into the dungeon, she's announcing her presence by whistling.

"Afternoon, Nugget!" She calls as she comes even with the cell door. She paces the length of it once, holding out a small book to rap-tap-tap against the bars, then turns back to face him. "Not much time before we all head off somewhere to do something, so you get your Satinalia gifts early."

[altusimperius]

She finds the prisoner sitting on the floor and already reading a book, but he looks up with a smile, so much of his despair held at bay by simply having something else to think about for once.

“You brought me a gift?” he asks, his brow knitting slightly, as it appears he’s genuinely touched.

[sulahnan]

"Better than that, I brought you three. Well, one of them goes with the other so it's kinda more like two..." She blows out a breath and shrugs, it's not important, whatever. Sinking to sit cross-legged on the floor, Athessa roots through her satchel and produces a pad of thick, textured paper, a small rectangular box, and a pocket-sized book.

"I actually got Flint to approve these first, too, so you don't have to worry about him confiscating them."

[altusimperius]

Benedict stands up, gently setting the current book on his bench so he can come to see what Athessa’s holding. His eyes immediately gravitate toward the book, though they rove over the other objects as well, not quite making sense of them yet.

“You did?” he asks, clearly impressed.

[sulahnan]

"Sure did! Although, he took the brush," Inside the box are squares of watercolor pigment, with obvious room for a paintbrush that now lives in the Forces Division Head's office. "So you'll have to fingerpaint." She holds out the box and accompanying paper for him to take.

"And I brought you a book of jokes."

[altusimperius]

Benedict is slow to take them, giving them a good looking-over first as though he can't quite believe they're real. Carefully, he extends his hands, his eyes remaining on the blocks of pigment and only breaking their gaze to look at the book.
Treasures.

"Thank you," he near whispers.

[sulahnan]

"You're welcome!" Chipper in the face of his quietude. She snaps her fingers, remembering: "Oh, and Flint told me to tell you not to eat the paint."

[altusimperius]

He looks up at her, no doubt checking to see if she's joking, and wrinkles his nose a little. Flint knows he gets fed, doesn't he?
"Right," he mumbles.

[sulahnan]

"I mean it doesn't really matter anyway since the pigments aren't poisonous at all. I think they're all made out of edible plants and stuff."

[altusimperius]

"I'm not going to eat them," Benedict says, prim exasperation creeping into his tone.

[sulahnan]

"Sure sure," she gives a little wave, yes, of course, obviously, and starts to walk away. "But you could, if you wanted to."

She'd throw in a fuck Flint if she didn't have a sneaking suspicion that he can somehow hear everything she says.