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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Colin squints at Byerly. "If they smell that badly and are that dirty, why would you do it in the first place?"

Blowing out a stream of smoke, Benedict considers. Then, "wouldn't say no."

To an infusion of the Qun, that is.

"You shouldn't," Byerly tells Benedict cheerfully. (Athessa is not the only one who has fucked a Qunari. Or, well, a Tal-Vashoth, in any case.) Then, to Colin - "Sorry, dear fellow, are you asking why someone would have sex, given that people are smelly and dirty?"

"I think the question is why you'd wanna fuck a filthy arsehole rather than a clean one."

Colin gestures to Athessa to indicate she's phrased it correctly.

"I mean you can't always, but basic diet and hygiene take care of most of it."

An amused snort as he takes a swig of wine. "Dirty," he says, "clean - these things are just illusions. States of mind. No arse is going to be clean; they're all going to give off foul odors. Better to embrace filth rather than try to deny its existence." Then, philosophically -

"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."

Finding very little appeal in this conversation, Benedict continues to smoke, pick at his plate, and watch Byerly with haughty detachment.

He'll leave this to the philosophers. There are worse things to have a reputation for than a clean arsehole.

Athessa squints at Byerly.

"The fuck are you talking about, By? Even you wash your arse when you bathe."

When for an instant Colin wants to point out the hypocrisy of Byerly claiming imperfection should be embraced, he decides it's time to tap out of the conversation. And reach for a hose.

Grand.

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."

Blowing out another stream of smoke, Benedict rests his head back onto the seat of the chair behind him.
"Are you sure?"

"Two lazy-bones are fast asleep," she says. "A thief comes in, pulls the blanket from the bed, and makes off with it. One of them, aware of what happened, says to the other, 'Get up! Go after the guy who stole our blanket!' The other says, 'Let's just grab him when he comes back for the mattress.'"

That's a joke.

Colin laughs in puffs of elfroot smoke.

"Three adventurers are in the woods--a Fereldan, an Orlesian, and an Avvar. The Orlesian shakes the Fereldan awake and says the Avvar is dead. The Fereldan says, 'All right, don't panic, first we need to make sure he's actually dead.' The Orlesian takes out his sword and stabs the Avvar through the heart, then says, 'Now what?'"

By hums without looking at any of them. "I heard that joke with an Orlesian, an Antivan, and an elf."

The first joke yields a smirk, and by the end of the second Benedict has cracked a smile, perhaps only for the sheer novelty of Colin telling it.
His voice is quiet and reserved as he begins:

"A bear walks into a pub and says, 'give me a.... whiskey'."

Bene clears his throat, and his confidence seems to grow slightly.

"'Why the big pause?' asks the landlord. The bear shrugs and says, 'I dunno, I was born with them.'"

"A student dunce went swimming and almost drowned. So now he swears he'll never get into water until he's really learned to swim."

Colin doesn't have another joke right away, which is fine, because he's laughing.

Now, Byerly has an entirely different reason to want the earth to swallow him. He sighs heavily.

Smiling amusedly, Benedict takes another morsel off his plate and pops it in his mouth, looking at the sky as he chews. The effects of the smoke are starting to kick in, his manner becoming more languid and serene.

Seems she's got some catching up to do, so Athessa blows more smoke rings into the air, alternating between hookah and food, food and hookah.

Through a very hearty bite of possibly every kind of food on her plate, she mumbles (with feeling): "This is soooo gooooood."

There's a touch of a smile at Athessa's compliment, but Colin's eyes are mainly trained on Byerly, looking concerned.

You all right? he mouths.

Byerly had been reflecting that the silence would be a good chance to slip away. He's drunk nearly a full glass of wine, sucked in a lungful of elfroot; seems like a perfect moment to take his misery elsewhere and stop ruining their fucking party.

But as he's rolling over to gather himself, he sees that look on Colin's face, and sees that mouthed question. He's not sure how to feel about it (aside from self-loathing, because well done Byerly, being such a wet rag that the person being celebrated notices rather than just...having fun).

He smiles as best he can - goes for something casual and droll. And he offers a shrug, a sort of no matter roll of the shoulders, because of all the things Colin should be doing right now this is dead last on the list.

"It's been a while," he announces, "since my sweet little puppy had a walk. I believe it is my oath-sworn duty to provide that for her." As good a pretext for leaving as any, he fancies, and better than most.

"Bye then," Bene murmurs, casting his gaze over toward Byerly, not fooled for an instant. Taking another bite, he uses the hand closest to his mouth to give a little wave using only his fingers.

"We're gonna be here for a while," she says. The sigh that precedes the comment is more like the preamble to saying oh come on, Byerly, we're not even doing anything to make you miserable, but clearly she didn't say that, and isn't going to.

"Prob'ly long enough for you to run her around the whole island and back."

"The Ambassador may only have time or energy to put in a quick appearance at a party," Colin says gently to the other two. "It doesn't mean he doesn't love us, just that he has to go."

He gives a nod to Byerly. If anyone understands the desire to leave a party early, it's Colin. And a bunch of other people, but as for the people present, it's Colin.

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bouchonne - 2020-09-18 01:34 (UTC) - Expand

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altusimperius - 2020-09-21 17:42 (UTC) - Expand

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