WHO: Bastien & Kostos + Various WHAT: A catch-all WHEN: Harvestmere 9:47 WHERE: Mostly Kirkwall probably! NOTES: No open things but I will be delighted to plan & start things for you if you hit me up.
Bastien receives a smile in turn, before they part ways-- he's definitely among the less frustrating guests the Diplomacy office receives, and Benedict is, at times, thankful for his presence (he does bring out the best in Byerly, as well).
He's lost in thought and doodling on a bit of parchment when Bastien questions him next, and it causes his eyebrows to twitch up, his gaze shifting to meet Bastien's in a moment's surprise before a little smile develops.
"Oh. Philosophically."
He tucks a strand of hair behind one ear with his quill hand. "Hedonism doesn't mean liking bacon, does it?"
“Not specifically,” Bastien admits, with some sorrow. “There should be a word for that. Bacophile?
“—but no. I meant there is hedonism in the casual sense, I think, where you merely enjoy your pleasures. Like hedonism as a hobby. And then there is hedonism in the philosophical sense, where you believe enjoying yourself is—“
He spreads his hands and then his arms in an expansive gesture, as if surveying the view from a mountain.
"C'est vrai. A committed hedonist would never stay here if they had the choice."
Some of them don't. Does Benedict, these days?
He's not going to ask. It'd ruin the mood. Instead: "Poor Florent."
Not quite presumptuous to sit on the edge of Benedict's desk—they're at least one level of friendship away from that, probably two—he settles for bracing his arm on it and leaning on it like a kickstand.
"What do you think the purpose of life is, if it isn't pleasure?"
Though he's about to make a crack about Byerly, Benedict thinks better of it-- things have been tense on everyone lately, and there's no need to be unkind. He's never had too much of a knack for it anyway.
Quietly entertained by Bastien's stance, Bene's demeanor becomes a little more relaxed in turn, fiddling with the feather end of his quill as he considers the question.
"You know," he says after a moment, "for a while I thought it was power, fortune, all that rot. Pulling the strings of everyone and everything around you, so the outcome always favors you. And... I don't know. Maybe that's still it." He doesn't seem convinced. "Maybe I've gone too soft, but I sort of like not knowing. What the purpose is. Like..." He bends the quill against his chin in thought. "...like maybe I'll figure it out later."
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He's lost in thought and doodling on a bit of parchment when Bastien questions him next, and it causes his eyebrows to twitch up, his gaze shifting to meet Bastien's in a moment's surprise before a little smile develops.
"Oh. Philosophically."
He tucks a strand of hair behind one ear with his quill hand. "Hedonism doesn't mean liking bacon, does it?"
no subject
“—but no. I meant there is hedonism in the casual sense, I think, where you merely enjoy your pleasures. Like hedonism as a hobby. And then there is hedonism in the philosophical sense, where you believe enjoying yourself is—“
He spreads his hands and then his arms in an expansive gesture, as if surveying the view from a mountain.
“—the ultimate purpose of living.”
no subject
Benedict leans back slightly, struck by this new information; he hadn't thought of it as an entire way of life.
"I think the first one," he muses, and after a pause, adds, "...this doesn't seem like the sort of place for the second."
no subject
Some of them don't. Does Benedict, these days?
He's not going to ask. It'd ruin the mood. Instead: "Poor Florent."
Not quite presumptuous to sit on the edge of Benedict's desk—they're at least one level of friendship away from that, probably two—he settles for bracing his arm on it and leaning on it like a kickstand.
"What do you think the purpose of life is, if it isn't pleasure?"
no subject
Quietly entertained by Bastien's stance, Bene's demeanor becomes a little more relaxed in turn, fiddling with the feather end of his quill as he considers the question.
"You know," he says after a moment, "for a while I thought it was power, fortune, all that rot. Pulling the strings of everyone and everything around you, so the outcome always favors you. And... I don't know. Maybe that's still it."
He doesn't seem convinced. "Maybe I've gone too soft, but I sort of like not knowing. What the purpose is. Like..." He bends the quill against his chin in thought. "...like maybe I'll figure it out later."