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.
"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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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?"
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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."