[open] mortal kings are ruling castles

[altusimperius]

WHO: Benedict and you
WHAT: miscellaneous open prompts
WHEN: Kingsway
WHERE: the Gallows
NOTES: ya boyyy got his magic back (sort of)

I. Benedict's Hookah Room for Degenerate Hedonists

Most nights, the hookah is lit in its tower room (more easily now that someone can conjure flame again) and the scented smoke sifts from the open window into the crisp autumn air. It seems like he and Athessa just set it up yesterday, but over the weeks there has amassed a healthy population of cushions, rugs, and blankets cast off from every corner of the keep, which now make for a plush if stuffy little nest of creature comforts.
Anyone who happens upon it, or has been told of its existence and wants to partake, will often find him sprawled across a few pillows, sometimes with sketches strewn about, sometimes just gazing at nothing.


II. He's a Magic Man

It wasn't immediate, but after finally, finally being freed of the influence of magebane, Benedict's magic has gradually begun to return.

He uses it sparingly, mostly in the mornings before he goes into Byerly's office to work for the day, perhaps choosing the early hour to inhibit any judgment or interruption from offended parties; and it's the basics he's drilling in the sparring pitch, generating pithy flames and the beginnings of barriers, simply stretching the muscles again after a year of not having access to them.


III. Murally We Roll Along

Progress continues on the dining hall mural, with the lot of it stenciled in charcoal and beginning to be filled in with colored pigment.
High up on his scaffolding, he takes the occasional smoke break and sits with his skinny legs draped over the side, watching the room below.


IV. Wildcard

Come at me. I love you

Comments

[altusimperius]

The second outfit appears, a deep blue doublet with golden clasps, and is regarded similarly; Alexandrie's tailor clearly knows what they're doing.

"I haven't thanked her properly," he muses, admiring the back in the mirror, "--or you, really."

[keenly]

"I'm sure you'll find a way." Colin is actually a bit surprised Bene is talking about thanking anyone, but it shows how far he's come. "That's an amazing color on you."

[altusimperius]

Bene's response is a knowing smile, as he's clearly feeling quite a bit better about himself-- thanking Colin for every compliment seems like overkill, but he can at least acknowledge them.

"Last one," he hums, stepping back behind the curtain.

[keenly]

Colin leans back against the wall with a content smile.

[altusimperius]

The last garment is a black doublet trimmed with gold embroidery, and he looks at it a little longer, still clearly riding high on the enjoyment of having new clothes, though it's gradually giving way to some thoughtful staring.

"I never thought it'd look good," he muses, turning to and fro, "...not having a full brocade, or beading."

[keenly]

"I think it looks better?" Colin says with a wince, as he scratches the back of his head and feels like a troglodyte. "Because when I look at you in these clothes, I see you more than I see the clothes. You, impeccably dressed, a very handsome you. But you're wearing the clothes, not the other way around."

[altusimperius]

Bene glances at Colin, a little surprised and a little indignant. His clothes never wore him, he picked them out after all-- but perhaps it's just a compliment.

He purses his lips as he stares into the mirror, and tucks a strand of hair behind his ear.
"I suppose I'll just have to be worth seeing." It sounds like less of a remark to Colin, and more like an agreement with himself.

[keenly]

Colin winces apologetically and raises his hands at the look. What Bene says next, thought, leaves a moment of contemplative silence between them.

"You don't think you're worth seeing?" Colin asks softly.

[altusimperius]

"Depends."

Bene straightens the doublet around his chest and neck, taking a long look, then returns his gaze to Colin.

"What I'm doing, how I'm doing it. I have to be seen right."

[keenly]

"Why?"

[altusimperius]

"Why do you think?"

The words are snippier than, perhaps, he intends.

"I was almost executed for treason. Just because you've forgotten doesn't mean everyone has."

[keenly]

Colin gives Bene an unimpressed look, eyebrows high.

"Please reconsider the second half of what you said," he says mildly.

[altusimperius]

That isn't a look he's seen from Colin in a while, and Benedict balks, still fiddling with the collar of the doublet. He looks forward again, his mouth twitching, like he can't decide whether to apologize or to keep riding the high of feeling impressive and important.

"...I have to make a good impression all the time," he says with an evasive shrug, his tone cooling off considerably, even if he hasn't completely acknowledged why.

[keenly]

Colin relaxes and gives a nod.

"I know," he sighs. "I haven't forgotten. I just wanted to hear your reasoning, because you might be taking the wrong route if that's your goal."

He stands up to approach Bene and help smooth out his collar in the back.

"It is important for you to look good, and be on good behavior. But doing just that is only going to give people the impression that, for now, you're cooperative. You're not betraying us, that doesn't mean you can be trusted. To convince people that you are loyal? That requires an act of loyalty."

[altusimperius]

Looking at Colin in their reflection, he's glad for the assistance, all the pomp and derision once again dissolved in favor of seeking something better.

"But how?" he asks, defeat creeping into his voice, "what act of loyalty would be so grand that it would convince everyone?"

[keenly]

"Not a show of loyalty," Colin gently corrects, coming around to face Bene as he continues fiddling with his collar. "It needs to be genuine, sincere, and it needs to come entirely from you, and the only people who know about it will be those who need to know about it. Your initiative, your idea. Not because you need to convince other people, but because you are loyal and it is the right thing to do."

He steps behind Bene again to look at him in the mirror again.
"And you'll never get 'everyone' to agree on the color of an orange, let alone whether you're loyal. The division heads matter, of course, but none of them will believe your loyalty if you don't. So. However many acts of loyalty it takes for anyone else is superfluous. Start with something that will convince you."

[altusimperius]

Bene gets that look in his eye again, like he's about to start spiraling if he doesn't catch himself in time. It helps to meet Colin's gaze in their reflection, a tiny smile quirking as Colin continues to fuss with the collar as much as Benedict was.

"I'm just," he muses, pausing mid-sentence to think, and gives a little sigh through his nose.
"I'm tired, I guess."

[keenly]

Fortunately Colin is attuned to others, detects these things quite easily. He comes back around and pulls Bene into a hug.

"What are you thinking?" he asks softly.

[altusimperius]

Although Bene hugs him back, he also makes a sound of discontent, looking past Colin.

"You shouldn't hug me after I've been an arsehole to you," he mutters.

[keenly]

That's a surprise. Colin breaks away and gives him a puzzled look.

"You looked like you needed a hug. What should I have done?"

[altusimperius]

"I don't know." He shrugs one shoulder, almost sullenly.

"It feels worse than if you just yelled at me or something. I feel like I've pulled one over on you." A wince of realization, "...or like you're my nanny."

[keenly]

"Your nanny? The--oh." The slave. Colin's eyes widen briefly. "So, I'm not the yelling sort. And you want...consequences."

Which he is going to have to support. Bene wants boundaries with clear consequences because he has learned this empathy thing and wants to protect...Colin. And everyone else around him, but in this moment, Colin. Which is ridiculously endearing.

"Could always spank you," he teases with a gleam in his eye.

[altusimperius]

"I-- guess," Benedict stammers, suddenly caught off-guard when Colin so succinctly describes what he wasn't even sure of himself. Consequences. Consequences that aren't being killed or thrown in a dungeon, but aren't a hug either.

"You'd enjoy that, would you," he shoots back, turning quickly before Colin can see him blush, making a beeline back to the curtain so he can both change back into his work clothes and take a moment to be less flustered.

[keenly]

Colin has to chuckle quietly to himself at getting that reaction from Bene. There's something about disarming him that he enjoys.

"Maybe," he calls after him, before dialing back a bit. "Or you could just apologize when you feel that way."

[altusimperius]

Silent for a moment as he swaps out clothing, the shuffling sounds pause as he considers that.

Then, "but how do I know it was a good enough apology?" He tugs the curtain aside to peer out, tying up his little cravat in the meantime.

"I feel like you'd accept anything I said. What if I'm not actually sorry?"
The hypotheticals of someone deeply insecure about the impression he gives off, certainly, but also one who clearly doesn't trust himself too well either.