[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

[sarcophage]

"The style," he says, very clearly enunciated, as though perhaps Artemaeus has experienced a spontaneous decrease in cognitive capabilities. "What is its origin."

[altusimperius]

This seems like a trick, and Bene knows it must be, but has no answer that isn't the truth.

"...Tevinter, I guess," he says cautiously, pausing to looking over his shoulder again, "since... I mean, I came up with it." Not that he invented the technique, but he's not certain that's what's being asked.

"They do things like this in Antiva too, and Rivain." Trying to shrug it off, to evade the inevitable accusation, his face already beginning to burn.

[sarcophage]

"And in Orlais. It's quite a common idea, wouldn't you say? Even the Dalish must have a version of their own."

Alas, he has no cup of tea with which to punctuate any of his observations.

[altusimperius]

"...sure."

Well there's that potential crisis averted, and now this is just confusing. Bene casts a quizzical glance over his shoulder at Lea as he works.

"What's your point?"

[sarcophage]

Down below, at his empty table, Leander sighs. As he begins to stand up, to gather his empty plate and all, a confession:

"I thought I might make sport of your work, but there really isn't a point, is there? It reflects especially poorly on me, since you've the mind of a person half your age—and it's not as though it happened suddenly. This is just what you're like. Honestly, I don't know what I expected."

[altusimperius]

That stops the brush moving, and Benedict stands there, completely silent, for several seconds. Then, still holding the brush poised, he turns to look down at Leander out of the corner of his eye.

"Sounds like someone's upset he wasn't asked."

[sarcophage]

The pause highlights the blunt clattering of wooden bowls, a pair of scullions briskly tidying up. He leaves his dishes nearby out of courtesy for their labour.

"Were I to envy anyone, serah, it would be a person of value."

[altusimperius]

"Mmhmm," Bene hums absently, a little smirk twitching onto his face as he sets back to work.

[sarcophage]

Alas, it goes unseen. Leander hasn't looked back since he tidied up, and he's since changed direction: easy, unhurried strides carry him toward the exit.

"Take care your scaffold doesn't fail. The floors have only just been cleaned."

(He's done nothing to the scaffolding, and will continue to do nothing to it foreseeably.)

[altusimperius]

The cautioning statement is met with a roll of Bene's eyes, though that can't be seen either.