[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

[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.

[altusimperius]

With a full-body shudder as the mulch hits his hands, Benedict nonetheless seems to realize pretty quickly that it's not going to kill him, and really feels no worse than the floor of his cell when it got grimy.
Better than that, even, since it's got a nice clean, earthy smell, like springtime. He never knew he was even capable of missing the outdoors so much.

He follows Henry's point, then nods, shuffling over to the spot indicated, where he proceeds to spread it out. A part of him still certainly rebels at getting his hands dirty, but on the other hand, the day will end eventually and he actually has access to the baths now.
No more standing naked and shivering behind a blanket as he dumps a cold bucket over his head.

[ho_hum]

He watches Benedict's first attempt at spreading the mulch. It's not bad, but it's not how he'd do it. So he gets down into the dirt and spreads some himself, hoping to offer an example of what it should look like. Clearly, Benedict has never done this before.