[open] watching paint dry

[altusimperius]

WHO: Benedict and you
WHAT: Working on the dining hall mural, smoking elfroot, making himself useful one small task at a time
WHEN: Kingsway
WHERE: mostly the dining hall, sometimes other places
NOTES: ART

I. Style Taste Class

Already something of a serious person by nature, Benedict has never been more invested in a project than he is in his newly-appointed task of livening up the dining hall-- even his work as a chamberlain was more detached than this, what with him making stylistic decisions but not personally implementing any of them.

He's requested a little scaffold be set up so he can get above the large tower doorframes, and he can be found there at all hours that he isn't in Byerly's office, which is to say, in the mornings and late at night. When he sleeps is unclear, but based on the bags under his eyes, that doesn't come often.

But he seems cheerful enough, for who he is, and is usually open to conversation with diners and passersby as his painstaking design begins to take shape*.

*it's an approximation obviously

II. Recreation Station

When not at work either for Byerly or on his Masterpiece, Bene can be found lounging with his semi-erstwhile hookah in a spare room of the mage tower, having amassed a small number of battered and disused pillows and blankets to make the place homier.
His presence there is usually indicated by the smell of scented smoke, much like his former neighbors would be used to when he still had a room of his own, but fortunately he keeps the window open to let things vent properly.

III. Wildcard

The usual stuff is happening! Make your own prompt or hit me up for one.

Comments

I

[keenly]

On the first day, after his normal work is finished, Colin approaches Bene while pulling a smock over his head. Once it's adjusted, he gives a smile.

"Bastien said you could use some help."

[altusimperius]

Sitting on the floor next to a heap of parchment, Bene looks up at Colin with a smile in return.

"You can help me cut these out," he says amiably, offering over one sheet with an intricate design drawn on it in charcoal.

[keenly]

Colin sits down beside him and begins to do so.

"You've got quite a grand idea," he says admiringly. "I love the detail."

[altusimperius]

"It's like what we had in--" Bene begins, but stops himself when he remembers: Colin has seen his house, even if it wasn't in person.

"...at home. I've always wanted to try it, but obviously I couldn't paint on the walls there."

[keenly]

"It's beautiful." Colin doesn't hurry, cutting out the lines with great care. "I like the idea of a Tevinter beautifying this place. It was built by Tevinter to break spirits, and now a Tevinter is making it lift them up. And people will see that."

II

[muckspout]

Edgard is extremely lost once again and finds himself in a tall tower not entirely sure how he got there. He absently steps inside a room and finds a man smoking inside. He coughs at the smoke.

“What is that?” Then—-“Is it any good?”

[altusimperius]

Lifting his head with some effort, Benedict hazily eyes the newcomer.

"Elfroot," he says with a rasp, and nods. It's good.

"Who're you?"

[muckspout]

"Edgard." He nods his head. "Who are you?" He motions to the hookah. Can he try?

[altusimperius]

Edgard receives a blank stare for several long seconds as Benedict comprehends what he's just heard, and then he starts to laugh.

It's not an unkind sound, just the sort of giggle one might expect from somebody who's deeply enjoying an inside joke with himself, or perhaps someone he spoke to earlier. He waves him in lazily.

[muckspout]

Edgard grins uneasily, but shakes it off. That elfroot must be really good. He sits down on one of the pillows near the man. He helps himself to the hookah, takes a long hit, and breathes out.

"Very nice. Thank you--who did you say you were?"

The Birthday(s) Party | Bene, Athessa, Colin, Byerly

[keenly]

There isn't a table, really, more a lounging area set up in a corner of the garden. There are plenty of scatter cushions and rugs as well as improvised drapery, with trays of finger foods--fruits, vegetables, cubes of beef wrapped in basil speared on toothpicks, Rivaini spice cakes, delicate slices of duck, dipping sauces--and an array of candles placed in glass jars. Along with champagne, Bene's hookah is set up there.

When the first guest arrives, Colin is finishing setting everything up, sprinkling chopped herbs on the bowls of sauces. He glances up to see who it is.

[sulahnan]

It's Athessa! Yaaaay. She's actually put some effort in for the occasion, wearing wide-legged linen trousers and an embroidered tie-front top, neither of which are suitable for fighting or rambunctiousness. She hasn't slept in them, or bled on them, which makes them some of the nicest casual clothes in her wardrobe. Rounding out the lewk, Athessa has painted her eyes with gold, and adorned herself with gold jewelry. Bangles on her wrists and ankles, hoops and spikes in her ears, necklaces that rest against her sternum, and rings on slender fingers.

Where did she even get all this stuff? How long has she had it? Don't worry about it.

"That's quite a spread," she says, raising her eyebrows in muted surprise. Of course, upon seeing the spice cakes she gasps softly and makes a little scheme to smuggle a few away, but she keeps that to herself. "I didn't bring a gift."

[keenly]

Colin, by contrast, spent too much time setting things up to change into anything spectacular, though at least he brought a fresh shirt and tasteful jewelry to change into. He approaches her and gives her cheek a kiss.

"Just glad you came." He tucks his hands under his arms. "I just want to relax and have a good time, that's gift enough. Lexie lent her draper for Ben to get some clothes so I had to scrounge around a bit for something for him. At least there's estate sales, but he's got pretty expensive taste, so he might not like it."

[altusimperius]

By even further contrast, Benedict is still in his standard Riftwatch duds when he arrives-- it's going to take a while for the new clothes to be made, so in the meantime he has to make do. At the very least, he is as clean and shiny and silky as humanly possible, and looks the very picture of upper-class hygiene when he arrives on the scene and immediately smiles at the sight of everything.

[sulahnan]

"He should be happy to be getting gifts at all," Athessa replies to Colin. She's not being mean, just bluntly optimistic. More along the lines of, hey, at least he's getting gifts from someone who cares about him and less beggars can't be choosers.

When Benedict appears, Athessa turns to acknowledge him with a tilt of her head. Absolutely no lingering awkwardness after waking up cuddling him in her bed, none what-so-ever.

"Well, Ben," she greets, looking him up and down. "You look...clean."

i.

[heirring]

Dinner and Lunch are both almost without exception taken either at a desk, while on the move, or in Kirkwall. But breakfast? Breakfast is a kind of holy, and Wysteria makes a point to sit down for it regardless of how quickly she might need to run to see to pressing business afterward.

Today, she is sleepily shelling a hard boiled egg into a little wooden bowl. The night prior had been spent catching up on a backlog of division work she'd been quietly avoiding for a number of weeks, and whatever satisfaction she might have felt last night in having considerably whittled down her to do list has evaporated in the cruel light of morning.

Wysteria flicks a few shell fragments from her fingers, blankly regarding the figure on the scaffolding and the slow progress of his work across the above doorway. It's only once she has rid the egg of the last of its shell that she summons the energy to say anything at all.

"It's rather dauntingly elaborate. How far do you mean to take it?"

Surely not the length of the hall. It would take a lifetime, to say nothing of the material cost.

[altusimperius]

The artist turns his head, his hair tied back in a practical little tail which bobs with the motion. His eyes scan the room, then land on the woman-- a familiar face, if not name-- sitting nearby.

"I was tasked with decorating the hall," he says, angling his head so he can continue to see the stencil as he rubs charcoal over it, "so, I'll take until it's finished."

[heirring]

"No, I mean how far do you mean to take the patterning. To the edges of the door frame only, surely."

She takes a bite from the hard boiled egg, and is evidently some combination of too sleep deprived and distracted to bother with being particularly dainty about it.

[altusimperius]

"Oh." He looks up and around, to where the stenciling has already begun to spread.

"Over the arches, at least." He gestures to them as he talks. "And the crossbeams. ...you know. Following the existing lines."

[heirring]

"I see."

She studies the doorway for a long moment, squinting slightly. Clearly she is listening quite closely despite the early hour and the slow devouring of her boiled egg and is here reserving a moment to be critical of the work being done.

As a representative of Base Operations, one must be vigilant about questions of quality.

Evidently however she finds nothing to protest over and after a moment of squinting must admit simply, "It's rather nice. I was unaware you were any kind of artist."

i.

[sarcophage]

In its usual tide of noise and smells and warmth, the breakfast crowd comes and goes. Leander is often among the first to arrive of a morning, preferring to take his meal alone for the sake of efficiency, and for gradually warming up to the presence of other sapient beings as they file in and become livelier in each other's company. Today is no different in that regard. But today he lingers, well after most of the tables have emptied.

He's watching Benedict, the same way one might observe the fish in a familiar pond: with bland interest. In this he has made no effort to be furtive.

[altusimperius]

The feeling of being watched comes with the territory when one is working so publicly, and Benedict has learned to ignore it for the most part. But when it continues even after most of the hall has filed out to go about their days, he finds himself compelled to turn and see who's taking such a silent interest.

Perhaps he shouldn't be surprised-- Leander does this, and it's unnerving, but there's been no recent reason to overtly distrust him. He's just strange. Aren't they all, and so forth.

"Hello," Benedict says bluntly, as if perhaps Lea just forgot.

[sarcophage]

He didn't.

"Hello." The reply is perhaps slower than it ought to be, but Leander seems otherwise relaxed. Some time ago he'd even turned on the bench, putting the table at his back, to make more comfortable the crossing of his legs at the knee. "I didn't know you'd been assigned to this."

He's assuming that if Artemaeus weren't permitted to be up there, someone would have knocked him down by now.

[altusimperius]

Not knowing how to respond to that, Benedict just shrugs and gestures around as if to say 'well, now you do'.

"Bastien asked me."

[sarcophage]

Bastien, who in Leander's awareness has no particular authority. Aggravating, but he's quite through with raising petty issues—and that man will just charm his way into permission if he hasn't already got it, besides.

"And you chose this design." The question of why ought to be implied. If it isn't, he will let a longer silence prompt an explanation.