[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

[altusimperius]

Benedict smirks in response to her laughter, charmed by it despite his standoffishness-- as someone who also tends, or at least tended, to find himself very clever, it's a compulsion to which he can relate.

"Well. Enjoy," he says with a wry little nod, noting that she's wrapping things up.

[heirring]

"The day? I mean to." A series of papers are being stuffed into a little satchel, her plate and utensils all stacked into a neat order the better by which to whisk them away as she rises from her seat and smoothing navigates the question of removing herself from the bench without too much rearrangement of her skirts.

But here, with her things in hand, she pauses and actually looks at him, then past him to the work of the wall. She gestures with the empty plate toward the endeavor.

"Best of luck with it. I'll inform the Seneschal that it's coming along nicely. He is quite adamant about having the place set back to rights and will be relieved to hear progress is being made in some quarter."

[altusimperius]

That's reassuring. Benedict casts her a genuine smile, with a gracious little nod, and doesn't keep her any longer.