[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

The End of BoxGate

[sulahnan]

For perhaps the first time, Athessa makes herself known to the guard on her way down to see Benedict. Every time previous, she'd manage to slip by unnoticed, or at least unacknowledged, with exception to the two times that Flint knew she was down there. So now, the guard knows, and makes sure she doesn't have anything untoward on her person before letting her pass.

That doesn't mean, of course, that she announces her presence to Benedict himself. No, she wants to have time to formulate what the fuck she's even going to say to him before he knows she's there.

But no such luck. He's up and doing whatever he does with his time and she can't help but sigh when she sees him. Athessa crosses her arms.

"Yseult has it."

a few days after the thread with Athessa

[keenly]

Colin isn't over-eager to visit with Benedict after being passed along his apology. Obviously he was going to apologize. Apologies cost nothing, not even pride, for most people. They're a pacifying token handed out to make someone else feel a little better before you keep hurting them. But Athessa said it seemed to be real. So.

He bears no gifts this time, simply walks up to the cell and peers in mutely, expression wary.

A Fell Visitor

[skulltasm]

The first THONK! is preceded by muffled conversation, quite heated by the sounds of it, though the particulars can't be deciphered by the time the sound carries all the way down to Benedict's cell.

The second THONK! comes after a short delay, and the following thirty-three THONKS get progressively louder and faster until whatever is making the sound hits the dungeon floor. Then, in stark opposition to the rapidity at which it fell, Skull's glass jar rolls ever more slowly until it taps against the bars and casts a sickly green pall over the interior of the cell.

The inhabitant of the jar stares out, eyeless, at first facing away from Benedict, then rotates in sync with the sound of a distant, creaky door swinging shut.

"AHA, SO THIS IS WHERE THEY KEEP THE TRASH."