altusimperius (
altusimperius) wrote in
faderift2020-09-09 12:48 pm
Entry tags:
[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
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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To Athessa, he says languidly, "Can't you tell by looking at him? Fancy little toy dogs aren't sent outdoors to meet with dangerous beasties." One hand goes out to scratch Whiskey's rugged little hound belly. "I'll bet he's never seen a bee in the flesh."
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She puffs on the pipe, blowing a few smoke rings straight up into the air. She's sat with her back to the hookah so she might lay her head on a pillow and stretch her legs out, plate on her lap. It's a very silly way to sit when eating, or when smoking, but she is a very silly person sometimes, too.
"But Ben's not a toy dog," she says, and reaches over to poke said not-dog in the side, amicably. "He's more cat-like, I think. Climbed a tree quite admirably for such a softie." (And she may be teasing him, but her smile is fond. Athessa herself can be a softie, which they all know about well enough to tease her back, even if she doesn't remember showing that side to Benedict.)
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"Dogs are dirty," he agrees, tossing his head with a smirk as she pokes him in the side, "and they usually smell. Present company excluded, of course." This spoken to Whiskey, who almost certainly care.
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Fucking hilarious.
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He's certainly not rising to that.
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"Shows how much you've seen of his arse," he says, puffing smoke. The spicy food causes him to sniffle.
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"I thought you liked talking about this stuff," she cackles. "You were the one so interested in Qunari dicks that one time."
If nothing else, this seems like an easy topic for staying away from the awkwardness between herself and Byerly.
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...She assumes.
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To an infusion of the Qun, that is.
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"I mean you can't always, but basic diet and hygiene take care of most of it."
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"Why, doing so would make you a sort of cousin to Corypheus, no? Pretending that there's some glorious, shining ideal, rather than acknowledging that the world is always going to be imperfect and messy. So really, if you think about it, dirty, messy sex is an act of rebellion. Embrace a stinky arse like you embrace freedom, that's what I say."
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He'll leave this to the philosophers. There are worse things to have a reputation for than a clean arsehole.
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"The fuck are you talking about, By? Even you wash your arse when you bathe."
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Byerly sighs, and rolls onto his back so that he can look at the sky rather than any of them. "It was," he says, "a joke."
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