[open]

[altusimperius]

WHO: Benedict and you
WHAT: just a January catch-all!
WHEN: Wintermarch
WHERE: DUNGEON
NOTES: a new year begins in gay baby jail

[Starters in the comments, please feel free to make your own!]

Comments

[skulltasm]

WELL, I SUPPOSE MANY HAVE BECOME GRAVES, ONE WAY OR ANOTHER.

Perhaps he should've started with a riddle for children. Skull bobs gently in his jar, two illusory googly eyes appearing in his eye sockets. Paired with the mustache, it's very funny. Not that Benedict is looking, of course.

[altusimperius]

Benedict doesn't move, the parchment remaining over his face like a little blanket.

"A well?" he asks, "but what does that have to do with a compass." He's getting frustrated.

[skulltasm]

AND HERE I THOUGHT YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE A VINT. OF COMPASS SMALL, NOT A COMPASS. FROM THE OLD TEVENE: COMPASSUS, MEANING A CIRCUIT OR CIRCLE.

[altusimperius]

"Oh."

He purses his lips.

"...is it a well then?" Turning his head to look at the skull, the parchment floats off.

[skulltasm]

YEEEESSSS, IT IS A WELL, WELL DONE. PERHAPS I SHOULD HAVE STARTED YOU OFF ON A SIMPLER ONE, HMM? WHAT HAS A TAIL AND A HEAD, BUT NO BODY?

[altusimperius]

"A snake?"

He doubts it as soon as he says it.

[skulltasm]

Oh for the love of--

BELIEVE IT OR NOT, SNAKES HAVE BODIES. TRY AGAIN.

[altusimperius]

He winces. "Sorry."

A few long moments later: "a coin?"

[skulltasm]

DON'T BE SORRY TO ME, BE SORRY TO THE SNAKES!
Who gives a hoot whether the snakes are offended, anyway? Hearing Benedict's weird ideas is quite entertaining.

BUT YES, IT IS A COIN. CARE FOR ANOTHER?

[altusimperius]

A little sigh, and smirk of triumph. That didn't take so long.

"Sorry, snakes. Sure."

[skulltasm]

After a moment of thought, trying to find a middling riddle that is neither easy, nor hard.

AHA:
TWO FATHERS AND TWO SONS CAUGHT THREE HARES.
EACH GOT ONE.
HOW?

[altusimperius]

Though it takes him a moment, Benedict quickly sits up onto his elbows.

"It was a grandfather, his son, and his grandson. Two fathers and two sons." He looks pleased with himself.

[skulltasm]

OH VERY WELL DONE, THAT ONE TOOK YOU HARDLY ANY TIME AT ALL!

Oddly enough, he doesn't sound sarcastic.

HOW DO YOU PRONOUNCE G-H-O-T-I?

[altusimperius]

"G-H-O-T-I?" Benedict repeats, furrowing his brow. "...Goaty? Gotty?"

[skulltasm]

FISH.

[altusimperius]

This yields a blank stare.

"...what? How?"

[skulltasm]

WELL, HOW DO YOU SPELL "LAUGH?"

[altusimperius]

This feels like a trap.

"...L-A-U-G-H."

[skulltasm]

AND HOW DO YOU SPELL "WOMEN?"

[altusimperius]

"W-O-M-E-N."

He's dreading the punchline.

[skulltasm]

WHAT ABOUT "NATION?"

[altusimperius]

Slowly slumping down the wall, "N-A-T-I-O-N."

[skulltasm]

JUST SO. NOW YOU TAKE THE GH FROM LAUGH, THE O FROM WOMEN, AND THE TI FROM NATION, AND YOU GET: G-H-O-T-I. FISH.

[altusimperius]

The look on Benedict's face is somewhere between pitying and desolate, and he has slumped all the way down. He turns his head away.

"That's not how language works," he grumbles.

[skulltasm]

WHYEVER NOT?