[open] a me party

[altusimperius]

WHO: Benedict and you
WHAT: birthday boy celebrates solo-ish
WHEN: late Solace
WHERE: around the Gallows
NOTES: feel free to wildcard or request a custom starter

No Colin, no Athessa. No Lakshmi. No D'Artagnan, no Kitty, no Gabranth, no Jone, no Allumin-- why does he keep getting so hung up on Rifters, anyway, they just vanish-- there's still Byerly, but asking him to hang out after work seems awkward, especially considering what happened the last time. Better not.
But it's Benedict's birthday, and the weather is fine, he has money of his own and freedom to do what he pleases when he's not working, so he intends to make the best of it anyway.

A few pillows are strewn around the central hookah, which is placed in a nice shady out-of-the-way area down in the Gallows courtyard. Benedict lounges there, puffing idly at the hose, an open bottle of red Antivan wine and a little tray of assorted fancy canapés close at hand. He's wearing what looks to be a new outfit, Tevene in motif but clearly made in Kirkwall, luxuriant enough to satisfy his taste (within reason) while remaining within his means.
His hair is shiny and his skin soft, indicating that some serious self-pampering occurred before he graced the public with his presence. He wears a pair of the strange dark glasses Riftwatch acquired some time ago, rendering his expression distant and inscrutable.

He lingers there for several hours, lazily beckoning forth anyone who seems interested in partaking. The food, the wine, and the elfroot are technically to share, not that he'll complain if he doesn't have to.

Comments

[sprent]

"Oh," Gela says, heartfelt for a moment, "Poor thing. You must like it here, then." Lots of people to bother, and be friends with. And speaking of, "We'll be friends, then, I think."

[altusimperius]

He seems a bit surprised at first, and then it turns into unexpected warmth; he's hardly in a position to turn down friends, especially such insistent ones.

"If you say so," is his cheerful response, no argument in sight. "Where're you from?"

[sprent]

Perfect! One might have thought it was impossible for Gela to smile any wider, but here she is beaming.

"Nevarra." Don't worry about it, "Where are you from? Bet I've been there."

[altusimperius]

"Tevinter." No sense beating around the bush. "Ever been to Minrathous?"

[sprent]

"Yes. I wanted to see the Juggernauts." That was back when Gela didn't know where she was going, when she didn't have a plan. Freshly turfed from Nevarra, she heard about things on the wind: golems, dancing plazas, and giant, cracked bells, and she went there, and looked, because it was better than wandering aimlessly. "Interestin' place, but not as friendly to those with little coin."

[altusimperius]

"Oh. ...yeah. I suppose not." He frowns uncertainly, opting not to poke that particular bear.

"Did you like the Juggernauts?"

[sprent]

Gels shrugs a shoulder, reaching for a grape, “They were very big.” As advertised. In explanation, “It was a couple years ago. I’m sure I was suitably awed at the time.” She’s seen a lot since then. Travelled the world, in a blur.

“Does Riftwatch travel a lot?”

[altusimperius]

"Yeah. ...a lot a lot." He puffs idly from the hookah.

"There's always stuff to do around the Gallows, though, if that's not to your liking. Or you can't for some reason."