Open

[muckspout]

WHO: Edgard and YOU
WHAT: I'm doing the catch-all thing too
WHEN: Now-ish, post-Murderhaus and Satinalia
WHERE: Various places
NOTES: Open to all unless otherwise specified. Post-murderhaus stuff might have murdery discussions

All prompts in comments! Feel three to throw wildcards in here if you so desire. I love you.

Comments

[muckspout]

Edgard twitches and slaps the leg away. He makes a grumbling noise and then buries himself further into the blankets.

He's alive, it seems.

[altusimperius]

"Are you sick?"

He pokes at him again, with the same foot.

[muckspout]

A hand sneaks out from the blankets and slaps the foot again.

"Stop poking me, Benedict."

The blankets growl. Edgard curses inwardly. Of all the days for Benedict to actually wake up!

[altusimperius]

Benedict thinks about it, considers his options deeply. He could take his foot away, leave Edgard alone, and go about his business.

But this is a person who has been barking him awake for weeks, and that doesn't seem fair somehow. So instead, he adds his second foot, bracing his arms on his own bed and stretching his legs to begin levering Edgard out of position.

"Not being lazy, are you?" he asks with dull amusement.

[muckspout]

Edgard suddenly getting scooted off his bed, hangs onto the edge, and hits both of Benedict's legs hard.

"Just leave me alone." He sounds miserable rather than angry.

[altusimperius]

"Ow!" Bene exclaims, pulling his legs back and sliding ass-first onto the floor, where he folds his knees against himself with a scowl.

"What's got into you?" he demands, "if you're sick, I'll get Colin."

[muckspout]

A sigh comes from under the blankets.

"Just. Just leave me here." 'To die' is left unsaid, but the tone makes his meaning very clear.

[altusimperius]

Well now he's getting mad.

"No!"

If nothing else, Benedict has come to learn what justice is, and can recognize when it isn't being served. He grips the blankets and throws them off of Edgard.

"That's not how this works, Edgard!"

[muckspout]

Edgard doesn't react to the blankets being pulled off. He just lays there.

Then muffled under a pillow: "How does it work, Benedict?"

[altusimperius]

"You get up! And do whatever it is you do, because otherwise someone yells at you and kicks you in the arse!"

He doesn't have the best voice for yelling, but he's ready to do the rest if it comes to it.

[muckspout]

Edgard sighs deeply. He is fully aware that this is his own fault.

"Just today. Just leave me alone, today."

[altusimperius]

Standing there nigh-fuming, Benedict folds his skinny arms and glares down at Edgard. Then, with sulky purpose, he sits abruptly on the end of his bed.

"What happened?"

Something is obviously wrong, and Bene's not exactly good at heartfelt conversations, but... well, he's the one here right now.

[muckspout]

What happened? A year ago, he was among people who cared about him, some who even loved him, all of whom are dead, and Edgard somehow remains alive. This day is a mockery to all of that.

He lays unmoving even still on the bed. "It's my birthday." He says miserably.

[altusimperius]

"...oh."

That makes a weird kind of sense. And just as Bene begins to feel bad about it, he talks instead.

"Happy birthday."

[muckspout]

Edgard, head still under a pillow, shakes his head from side to side rejecting this statement.

"Can I have the blankets back?"

[altusimperius]

"No."

Bene purses his lips, watching him.

"Why are you upset?"

[muckspout]

Edgard pauses a long time before responding.

"Because I'm the one who gets to live another year."

[altusimperius]

"Isn't that a good thing?"

[muckspout]

Edgard shrugs still facing downward, but rolls over to speak.

"Maybe. But, its not particularly just."

[altusimperius]

"...being alive isn't unjust." Some might argue otherwise, but that's not baggage he needs to bring to this particular conversation.

[muckspout]

"Well, I don't know how it works." Edgard grumps and tosses a hand in the air lazily. "But, I know that some people should be alive and are dead and that I am still alive. Seems unjust to me."

He rolls back over.

[altusimperius]

Benedict thinks about a moment, then purses his lips in a frown.

"That's stupid," he decides, for his own sake as much as Edgard's, and pokes him with his foot again.

"Being alive means you get to keep moving forward. And make up for whatever you feel awful about."

[muckspout]

"You're stupid." Edgard responds halfheartedly rather than aggressively. He wiggles away from the foot and is now sitting up. "That foot in particular."

He doesn't slap it this time.

[altusimperius]

"No, you're stupid," Bene primly informs him, and maintains the pressure of his foot.

"My feet are the result of generations of perfect Tevinter breeding," he adds, in that tone of voice where it's not entirely clear whether or not he's joking, "and they're not stupid either."

Nudge nudge.

"Come on. It's time for breakfast."

[muckspout]

Edgard sputters at that information and inches away from the stupid perfectly bred foot.

"Breeding?" He scoffs, but he's getting out of bed. "You really do come from rich people, don't you?"

Edgard shakes his head.