[open] I want to hear your voice

[altusimperius]

WHO: Benedict and you??
WHAT: back above ground and figuring it out babey
WHEN: after the prison break mission
WHERE: the Gallows
NOTES: hmu if you want a starter

I. The Gallows Courtyard

The ship has returned, they've rowed back to the Gallows, some discussions have been had, and it all goes by in a blur. Benedict finds himself standing alone in the courtyard, free for the first time in almost eight months, skinny and hollow-eyed and utterly overwhelmed by the activity around him.
He looks lost, unsure of where to go, what to do, or how to even begin.

II. The Mess Hall

If he hadn't already eaten food without magebane in it on their mission, he might have collapsed in tears the first time he did it back in the Gallows. But as it stands, even as simple as the meal is that he's consuming, Benedict is desperately happy to be doing so.
In fact, sitting alone in the crowded hall, face turned toward the sunlight-filled window, it's possibly the happiest he's ever looked to the outside eye.

III. Wildcard


for Marcoulf

The first night in, Benedict makes his timid way to the Gallows dormitory, a sack slung over his shoulder bearing a change of basic, casual clothing of a peasant that he was lent for his first stint out of the dungeon. He sets it on one of the unoccupied beds, then sits on it himself with the deep, emotional sigh of a person suddenly experiencing unimaginable comfort paired with the knowledge that it won't be immediately taken from him.

for Henry

It's early morning when Benedict arrives in the garden, disheveled from lack of sleep and wary, but carefully optimistic that what he'll find won't be worse than what he's left. The spring morning air is brisk, and he shivers from it despite the heavy cloak he wears over his simple borrowed clothing. Looking at him now, one would never guess that he's from the Magisterium.

for Colin

Word has no doubt traveled to those concerned on the mainland that Benedict is free-ish, albeit confined to the Gallows. He's pushing a wheelbarrow of gardening equipment from one location to another, hands in rough leather gloves and hair tied back in a little ponytail, when he spots Colin.
He pauses for a moment, his gaze vacant yet pointed.

Comments

[keenly]

Lost in thought, Colin almost walks right by Bene until a stray glance catches a face. He knew roughly that Bene went on a mission and that he served well. He doesn't want to pry, doesn't want to push boundaries if his friend isn't ready, but that empty gaze strikes him like lightning. He knows that look. He's seen that look in the mirror and on his friends. He'd worried the isolation would affect Bene this way, but was not able to do anything about it. He stops in his tracks, returning that stare for a moment before taking a step toward him. After a moment of hesitation, he closes the distance to take his friend gently into his arms.

"You did it."

[altusimperius]

Benedict sinks into the embrace, his head falling forward onto Colin's shoulder as he grips him close. He nods silently, unmoving from this position apart from slight natural swaying.

[keenly]

The embrace tightens as Bene proves to welcome it. Just like that, the last six weeks of worry fall away. He got himself out with no help from Colin. He's going to be okay.

The hug lasts until Benedict begins to let go. Colin steps back and checks him, notes his color, his thinness, his pulse.

"When was the last time you ate?"

[altusimperius]

He's pale, of course; being out of the sun entirely for so long has taken its toll, and he's multiple shades lighter than is healthy or natural for him. But his pulse is fine, and the question yields a timid shrug.

"Breakfast," he murmurs, almost shyly. There's still something quite detached about his bearing, an unspoken worry, perhaps that everything will collapse again if he says or does the wrong thing near the wrong person.

[keenly]

He's not acting like himself, which worries Colin all over again. Was Benedict strained before? Yes, but not like this. Guilt punches Colin in the gut.

"I'm so sorry," he rasps as his emotions rise. "When you were sick, Sawbones and I made the guard defy orders to carry you upstairs without clearing it with Flint. That's why he wouldn't let me see you anymore. It was my fault."

[ho_hum]

Of course by now Henry's been apprised of the fact that he's to have a so-called helper, which is a nice way to say that Henry is meant to teach some spoon-fed milksop how to be responsible for other living things.

This can't go wrong at all.

He stands from his cursory inspection of the work he's already done when Benedict arrives, and he gives the lad a once-over. He looks a bit peaky, like a stray dog.

"You get breakfast yet?"

[altusimperius]

Benedict nods, his gaze focused somewhere near Henry's face but not directly on it; he's nervous and displaying every signal that he's not going to make any trouble or put up a fight. Whatever he's told to do, he'll do.

[ho_hum]

Henry also nods, one solid one because good, no use gardening on an empty stomach. He turns to walk further into the garden, assuming Benedict will follow.

"Gotta lay down mulch," he starts, in a tone of voice one might expect from someone muttering their own to-do list. "Add supports for the tall'uns, divide the rosemary--"

[altusimperius]

Benedict trails after him, his expression neutral apart from his constantly flitting gaze, always prepared for this to be a trick, or for someone to burst out of the bushes to drag him off somewhere again.

When that obviously doesn't happen, he's easily enough put to work. However, he's sluggish and weak, having to stop frequently for breath and aching muscles; apart from the recent jaunt to Tevinter, it's been seven months since he even took a walk; any strength he may have gained from his work with Riftwatch has thoroughly left him after sitting around for so long. At the moment, he can barely lift a shovel.

[ho_hum]

The look of pity on Henry's face doesn't really resemble pity. More like disappointment, or annoyance, but even if he looks and sounds put-upon and gruff, he tries to be accommodating. Telling Benedict to sit down before he falls down, for example. It's good that Benedict is taking to the work so willingly, but gardening isn't a rush job. No point wearing yourself out this early in the day when there'll be more to do later on.

"Here," he says, slapping a wad of mulch directly into Benedict's hands. "Just spread it over the soil there, n' around the base of the plants. If it don't look like it belongs, like that bugger there--" Henry points out a little clump of weeds and easily plucks them out of the dirt, roots and all. "It can go.

[esquive]

The dormitories are large rooms, defined by the rotation of its inhabitants and the fuss and bother of a handful of people stuffed into the same space - unmade beds, belongings in packs stuffed under cots, noise at all hours. It's part of why he finds the space pleasant. Things change. No one asks questions about where you have been or where you are going. The most he has to concern himself is the threat of sticky fingers. New faces here are no surprise.

But this isn't exactly a new face, is it?

Marcoulf has fully crossed the room, shucking out of his waxed cloak and beginning to undo the buttons of his coat before he notices the pale figure haunting one of the heretofore empty beds. His half turn toward the stranger is dismissive, clearly meant to be little more than a glance and a nod of acknowledgement.

He stops. His hand pauses at the toggle of his coat.

[altusimperius]

The not-a-stranger's eyes lock with Marcoulf's, then immediately disengage. He's perfectly still as he sits on the bed, gaze pointed at the floor, every bit a different person than the one who exchanged gibes with Marcoulf not three months ago. At the moment, engaging in conversation is the last thing he wants.

#remember when

[esquive]

Slowly, Marcoulf turns a degree farther - looking not at Benedict, but toward the door of the dormitories as if expecting to see a series of guards posted there that he had miraculously bypassed without noticing. Or a cadre of armed individuals in hot pursuit. Or, or, or--

When neither reveals themselves, and when no one jumps out from behind a bunk to shout 'Surprise! Isn't this a hilarious joke?', he rotates back. His attention narrows like a knife point of the young man and his hand resumes the unbuttoning of his coat.

"Who else knows you to be here?"

love u

[altusimperius]

The Vint hasn't moved, or even glanced back, yet he can feel Marcoulf's eyes on the back of his head.

"The division heads," he says in a mumble, "everyone who needs to."

[esquive]

There is something so fixed and pinched in the swordsman's expression to begin with that it would be difficult for it to narrow farther in reply, and yet--

"I see."

And that, it seems, is that. He pivots that half step back to his own small square of the dormitory, shedding his coat in the process. It is hung from a small iron hook near to hand alongside the waxed cloak. His gloves are removed. His wet boots and damp socks pried and peeled off - as if the ritual of the thing might erase the unwelcome presence lurking in the periphery.

ii and iii, mess and hookah

[sulahnan]

Athessa isn't even tall enough to blot out the beam of sunlight streaming through the window, but she stands before Bene for a moment, looking at him looking out that window and looking like some kind of strange, smiling sunflower.

"Heard you were out," she says, sitting across from him and leaning her elbows on the table. "Not saying I didn't believe it, but...well."

Athessa had given a cursory glance through that tiny window to the dungeon when she heard. And she checked the sick room he'd been moved to. Now, though, she peers at him with an assessing eye, squinting a little bit like she's trying to see him proper.

"You look kinda paler than I remember."

[altusimperius]

He turns to look at her in mild surprise, having not seen her approach. But then Bene's expression warms, a faint smile twitching onto his lips. It feels like a long time since he's seen Athessa, and never really outside the confines of his cell, that he can recall.

"I haven't gotten much sun," he admits, hunching his shoulders in a self-conscious shrug.

[sulahnan]

It has been a long time, considering their specific circumstances. Last they saw one another was back in... Guardian? Wintermarch??

Definitely before the whole Devigny mess.

"Not like you missed out on much of it," She huffs, gaze dropping to the table to watch the tiny damage caused by her idly digging her thumbnail into the woodgrain. "Honestly after that winter I'm surprised we all aren't out taking sun-baths whenever the sky clears up."

[altusimperius]

He smiles a little, but it doesn't reach his eyes. The time Bene has been in a windowless room or several has done something to him, and what that something is will likely remain to be seen for certain.

"How've you been?" he asks, almost timidly, looking at his bowl.

[sulahnan]

Athessa blinks, taken aback because on the one hand, she didn't expect him to ask such a thing,and on the other:

"I... don't really know how to answer that question."

Sure, she could tell him that she hasn't been great, but that would probably involve making herself vulnerable by way of talking about the why behind that statement, which they're both too sober for right now.

III. Colin's been Ab-duc-ted

[sulahnan]

If she had it her way, Athessa wouldn't tell Benedict anything about what's going on right now. She'd just grab her stuff, march through the eluvian, save the four agents that'd been taken, and let Bene go on thinking Colin was never abducted by Venatori in the Crossroads.

She's still holding out hope that she can have it her way, but with everyone scrambling to get the rescue underway after the announcement went out over the crystal, that likelihood is dwindling. Even more when:

Athessa runs into him headlong, too busy fastening dagger to hip to notice him step out into the hall. Rebounding, she gets out half an apology before she looks at him and makes a frustrated little noise.

"Ugh. I keep forgetting you're tall."

[altusimperius]

His first instinct is to cringe, but a ghost of Benedict's personality sneaks out when Athessa snipes at him, or... well, whatever that was, and he looks momentarily disgruntled.

"So do I," he admits with a sigh after a moment, bending to pick up her fallen dagger and offer it to her.

[sulahnan]

"What? How." It's a question, but it sounds too definite to be one, really. She takes the dagger back without so much as a thanks and goes back to affixing the dagger to her belt, trying to side-step around him at the same time.

[altusimperius]

He rubs the back of his neck, turning slowly as she bypasses him. Bye, then.

"...things are built for short people," he answers lamely, shrugging one shoulder. Won't someone think of the oppressed minority who are constantly banging their heads on doorframes and light fixtures?

[sulahnan]

Athessa laughs once, actually amused, and stops. Looks at him over her shoulder.

It's probably impossible, she thinks, to truly put herself in Benedict's place and get how he feels. They're not alike at all, from polar opposite backgrounds, and they just don't think the same or feel the same. But if she were only clued in after the fact that someone she cared about had been abducted, she'd feel pretty worthless.

Then again, if she knew what had happened and was forbidden from trying to help...

"C'mon," she says, waving for him to follow and starting off again. "I gotta tell you somethin'."