OPEN

[acreage]

WHO: James Holden and YOU
WHAT: Catch-all
WHEN: Fantasy August + September
WHERE: The Gallows and Kirkwall, mainly
NOTES: N/A

Comments

coffee

[altusimperius]

"Yes," is the haggard response of the resident Vint, who stands holding two mugs and eyeing the pot.

"Is there enough for two?" One is, ostensibly, or Byerly.

[acreage]

There's enough for two and not much more — ready access to the kitchens and a lack of easy means to reheat means he's just kept making it fresh — but he doesn't hesitate before nodding. It's not like he doesn't have more coffee beans to grind; and God knows much of Riftwatch is burning the midnight oil right now.

As he starts pouring out coffee for the first cup, he murmurs a, "Careful." Benedict can see that it's hot, but warnings never hurt.

[altusimperius]

"Thanks."

Watching dully as Holden pours, Benedict struggles through the fog of his fatigue to be pleasant-- the man is doing him a favor, after all.

"You have assisted the war effort more than you could know," is what comes out, with a little smirk; the thing is, he means it.

[acreage]

"Coffee does make the world go round."

In his humble opinion. His agreement is good-natured despite the hour of night; and he quietly moves to filling the second cup once the first is done.

"Too bad we can't stop Corypheus with good coffee." He pauses. "Or bad coffee."

[altusimperius]

"That's how you can tell he's lost his humanity," Benedict muses, hunting around for a pitcher with cream in it (he's a weakling).

[acreage]

"Assuming he ever had any."

The job done, he goes back to the bag of coffee beans he'd brought with him, starts pouring some out for a fresh grind. Whether Corypheus started out special magister or darkspawn — there are a lot of things that constitute humanity, besides physiology.

[altusimperius]

"Oh, I mean," and Benedict pauses in the doorway, a cup in each hand. He turns with the kind of little smile that could only be described as dorky, this being a subject of particular interest to him.

"He did. He was a person once, thousands of years ago. I might even be related to him, distantly, though that's neither here nor there." He clears his throat, recognizing that may not be information he should be volunteering.
"...but he was very much a real person, and a Magister at that. A historical figure. Who perhaps enjoyed coffee, once."

[acreage]

He remembers Isaac, before even the dreams, the first to tell him about Corypheus's life before: The Imperium is ruled by mages called Magisters. Corypheus claims to be one of them. He remembers the red lyrium dragon raining down death on an unprepared city, one that had done little else but refuse rule by Tevinter.

He shakes his head.

"Maybe humanity wasn't the right word." It's only a matter of months till he'll have been in Thedas a year, but adjusting his vocabulary for non-human races can still be tricky. "I don't particularly care what species he is or was. But people don't become world-destroying creatures out of nowhere, no matter where they started. They make choices, and they keep making choices, based on what they think matters. As far as I can tell, he started placing other things above the dignity of other peoples' lives before he became a darkspawn. And that means he chose to be a monster a long time before he actually turned into one."

[altusimperius]

Benedict's smile quiets into something slightly more abashed-- realizing it may have seemed like he was defending Corypheus makes this awkward in a way he hadn't accounted for.

"Well. ...yes." His mouth twists to one side, his eyes on the floor. Perhaps it's best to cut his losses here.

"...anyway, thanks for the coffee." Raising both mugs, he flashes a little smirk again before turning to escape, assuming the conversation ends here.