faderift | [open] watching paint dry

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[open] watching paint dry

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.

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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.

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."

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."

Edited 2020-09-11 06:12 (UTC)

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.

"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."

Colin smiles and walks to Bene to give him a quick hug before handing him a small box.

“Since the clothes are really from Lexie.”

And since Colin doesn’t want to just let him chicken out about getting his ear pierced. Inside the box is an earring of gold and lapis lazuli.

"Thanks?" to Athessa, whose comment catches him off-guard. "You look..."
He gives her a once over. "You look great, actually."

Then he receives the hug from Colin, and, smiling, opens the box. "Ooh," he intones, clearly excited, and holds it up to admire it.

"Oh, I've got--" From his pocket he withdraws a small, neatly-wrapped paper packet, inside of which is a woven leather bracelet that ties on the ends.
"It's. Not as nice." Suddenly he's blushing.

"I love it," Colin says with a smile, immediately moving to put it on. "Help me tie it on."

It's not like he expected Bene to come back with something of equal monetary value. Colin has money right now, and can go to the markets. And he really does love it, he doesn't have to force a reaction. The bracelet is comfortable and elegant, and can be worn every day.

"Thank you."

"Looks just as nice to me," Athessa muses. "You make that yourself?"

A somewhat sly sidelong look at Benedict, who apparently doesn't know that handmade things are often far more valuable to the right person.

The next comer to the party is - well - not a human at all. Instead, it's a puppy. Specifically, a hound, maybe three months old, with red and black coloring and long ears and a dapper bejeweled collar. Athessa and Benedict will likely recognize her; this is Whiskey, Byerly's dog, a sweet-natured creature that's in the I want to chew on everything stage of development.

So she comes over and immediately fixes her teeth in one of the blankets, simultaneously tumbling over on her side to bare her belly for rubs, which results in half rolling herself up like a little crepe in the cloth she's gnawing on. Her tail wags, and she looks up expectantly at the three of them.

Okay, forget everything else, there's a puppy here now. Athessa gasps and greets her with a pitched up cry of: "Whiskeeeey!" and is the first to jingle-jangle over to extract the blanket from the puppy's teeth and oblige her with belly rubs.

But of course it isn't lost on Athessa that this means there'll be another guest arriving shortly...

While helping tie it on, Bene nods self-consciously to Athessa's remark-- hopefully it's not too obvious that it was made by an amateur, but he doesn't want to undersell it and insult Colin's taste.

Then, there's a puppy. The puppy, with whom Bene has been slowly becoming more comfortable with the idea of dogs, previously thought to have been too dirty and physically invasive to be of much use.
Whiskey is good though. It's fine. She's a special dog.

With confirmation that Bene made it, Colin loves the bracelet even more, admiring the blue and amber beads before--

PUPPY!

Colin gasps and is suddenly on one knee, patting the doggo's belly and stroking her ears.

"Best birthday ever," he says happily. Food for the Antivan in him, a puppy for the Fereldan in him. "Who does she belong to?"

"She's mine." Byerly had arrived on the scene in the midst of the joy over the puppy. He'd momentarily considered just vanishing - the diarrhea that Whiskey would suffer after gorging herself on cheese a rather small price to pay to be able to avoid this awkwardness - but, hell, if By Rutyer has any skills, he has the skill of bobbing around a party that nobody wants him at. He was born for this.

So. "Just stopping by to show off my fine hat." Indeed, he'd picked up a lovely party hat indeed, a three-cornered affair with a rakish crimson feather. "Impressive, no?"

Athessa can't see the hat just yet, her back to Byerly's entrance where she's crouched to dote on Whiskey, but it gives her an opportunity to look at Colin and mouth no in response to the rhetorical question posited. Then, she looks over her shoulder at the Lord Ambassador and squints at that hat.

"Impressive is a word for it," she quips, and stands.

Colin looks up at the newcomer with wide, wary eyes. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth at Athessa's silent commentary, but then he's looking at Bene. Is By here because he wants to reconnect, or is this going to be an experience they'll all regret?

"That...hello." He's not sure what to say about the hat.

At least one person wants him here, and it's the person who invited him, but even Benedict isn't sure how much he wants Byerly here. Especially with the lukewarm reception he's getting-- and though Colin makes sense, Bene had thought at least Athessa would have palled around with him.

"I'm glad you adhered to the dress code," he says with an uncertain little smirk, his eyes darting to meet Colin's with a shrug. Did he do something wrong?

Well. This is grand. It seems that this was not some polite invitation extended by the party organizers to a personage of Riftwatch; Athessa and Colin seem altogether taken aback by Byerly's presence. Artimaeus, of course, is not surprised - but there's a smirk on his face that makes Byerly wonder if all of this was, what? Intended to be a prank, perhaps? An attempt to embarrass Byerly? A ploy at making him miserable, in revenge for Byerly's condescension in the office? A little tweak at his friends, so they can have a giggle about it after By has sauntered awkwardly away?

There's a part of him that still shrivels miserably in circumstances like this. Maker, he's been the butt of so many jokes over the years: in Denerim and especially in Val Royeaux, made the fool by giggling socialites who wanted someone to show up to a party in costume when no one else was, or who desired someone to show up so they could be turned away with a of course you're not on the list, a Fereldan, could you imagine? (Or Alexandrie, her smile on the dance floor utterly pleasantly chilly and distant.) Then, at least, he'd been able to stomach it, because he was powerless, which let him feel spiteful and righteous. But how, by Andraste's grace, is he to find any dignity at all in being humiliated by the motley, merry band of depressed and oppressed youngsters?

At least when I was being humiliated back then, I generally got paid for it.

"But of course." His face and voice are smoothly pleasant. He taps the brim of the festive hat in a half-salute. Then he turns his head to look around, asking, "So where is everyone else?"

Where the fuck are the other guests? A few more people would save him; he could mingle with them, charm a person or two, and then roll right back out with his pride largely intact. Bastien, maybe? Oh, Maker, please let Bastien have been invited.

It’s awkward, it’s so awkward, but Colin clings with determination to the benefit of the doubt. After a pause, a smile blooms across his face and he moves in on Byerly.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he says, reaching out for a quick hug. “Thank you for coming.”

"Everyone else?" Athessa echoes, and gives an empty-handed (but percussive, thanks to her jewelry) shrug. "It's just us, making up for a couple'a missed birthdays."

To anyone else it would seem normal, greeting a friend this way. To someone unfamiliar with their usual games and rapport, this would seem quite ordinary. But this group isn't made up of anyone elses.

Athessa doesn't point out that she put a lot of effort into her appearance. Byerly doesn't want to hear her talk about herself.

Struck by the sight of Byerly, by the various emotions flickering across his face, Benedict realizes what has happened: he'd recognize that expression on anyone, considering how often he himself has worn it in the past couple years.

"It's a. ...small party," he says in a low, awkward voice, glancing at Byerly and then away with an air of apology-- humiliation such that it may be, he hadn't intended it.

Byerly isn't sure what to do with the hug. He's never been very good with hugs, per se. Passionate embraces, oh, sure; those are his forte. Or hanging off other people's shoulders as you stumble drunkenly home, or having them hang off yours: that's quite familiar. But a hug, all charged with emotions, isn't something he really knows how to handle. What are you supposed to do with your hands? Are you supposed to hug them back? And this hug, in particular, from someone he's been distant from for months: is it a plea for reconciliation? Or just a greeting?

Fuck, he was not ready for this today.

He returns the hug, in the end - stiffly, but more because of his deep uncertainty with the gesture than because of discomfort with Colin specifically - and tries to figure out a strategy. By the time Colin's dropped his hands, Byerly has fixed a broad, amused smile on his face. He says - "Artemaeus, you little minx." And then, to all assembled, "My dear assistant has played a little trick. He invited me to your party as a ploy to get Whiskey to come. Well - "

The puppy in question is currently groaning in protest over the fact that people are not paying the most attention to her.

"Here she is. And I will leave her with you as a gift. Artemaeus can return her to my office once you're done. Eh?" And then he gives a chuckle, like this is all grand, like he doesn't want to fucking volunteer for some Venatori ritual right now so that he can bleed out and never think about this again because he'll be dead. Just us. What the fuck was Artemaeus thinking?

Colin's face falls. He steps back, gaze turning away, hands tucking under his arms. He should have known.

"I mean, you'd be welcome. We've got food, wine, and, um." He gestures to the hookah.

A trick? That's--

A small fire flares up in the back of Benedict's mind, the subtlest surge of temper that nonetheless changes his bearing. Does Byerly think he's too good for them? Is he simply afraid of Colin? Both reasons are asinine.

"Oh, sit the fuck down," Benedict sighs, going to the table to begin preparing a small plate of the painstakingly prepared food, which he then all but shoves into Byerly's hands before retiring to one of the pillows by the hookah.

"If my goal were to make a fool of you, there'd be more people here."

"Yeah," she agrees with Benedict with a roll of her eyes. "Ploys aren't Ben's style, anyway."

She doesn't know if that's true, actually, but it feels right, and cheeky enough to set the tone. The tone being: friends poking fun at each other and not making fun of Byerly.

"At least you can say you brought Whiskey. I didn't get them anything." That much she does say to Byerly, though it's entirely performative. Athessa's always giving people gifts, as all three of them know.

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

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