[open] so what did I miss

[altusimperius]

WHO: Benedict and you
WHAT: he's been [redacted] as the ambassador to Antiva
WHEN: mid-Drakonis
WHERE: the Gallows
NOTES: (alan cumming voice) moarder

I. The Docks, the day of the Revered Mother's arrival (just one thread please)

When Benedict steps off the ferry, it's clear that something is happening. People are scurrying about, there's an edge of tension across the plaza; he'd heard, obviously, of Riftwatch's doings in Starkhaven, but whatever this is seems more immediate and quieter in its bluster.
Waving down the nearest passerby, he asks: "what's going on?"

II. Eating

If only there were more tools to keep one awake through the day. Benedict hadn't even noticed that his dreams had stopped when he went off to Antiva, but now that he's back in Kirkwall, they've returned en force. He sits in the staffed dining hall with whatever the day's meal option is, stirring it idly with a tired, dead-eyed stare at either the far wall, the middle distance, or someone at whom he'd normally have no intention of staring.
If the latter should occur, and they should meet his gaze, he gives a little start and averts his eyes-- but it might be too late.

III. At Work

For the last couple months, Byerly's office has been relatively unguarded; this is no longer the case. Anyone coming in to see the Ambassador will have to get through his secretary first-- or, should they like, they're welcome to visit the secretary himself. The Maker doesn't judge.


IV. Wildcard

for Byerly

The day he returns, Benedict saunters into the office and promptly leans against the doorframe, initially to scan for Byerly and then, upon seeing him, to offer a wave of greeting. He doesn't say anything, not yet, but his expression conveys everything: What A Trip.

Comments

ii.

[grindset]

When you're sitting across the room from a person, should that person happen to be looking at anything in your vicinity—or at nothing, vaguely in your direction—it can be quite easy to interpret it as being directed your way. It's too late for both of them: Viktor has made this very mistake.

First he ignores it as a one-off. Sometimes people leave their eyes pointed in directions while they zone out. It's fine.

Is it fine, though? Noticing again, perplexed by the suggestion of a sudden lack of social invisibility, he looks over his shoulders, one after the other—aha, there's a person there, it must be aimed at them. The person leaves. Now, surely, it will end, and he'll be left in peace with his soup.

It does not end. What is this guy's problem? The longer this goes on, the more serious his eyebrows become.

This is how Benedict finds himself reciprocating a stare that wouldn't look out of place on a haunted doll.

[altusimperius]

It takes him far too long to realize this is what's happening, and once he does, the initial apologetic wince gives way to something a bit more uneasy. What's this guy's problem?
Benedict has seen Viktor before, of course, but has never given him a proper once-over, which he does now.

[grindset]

Visually, Viktor can be summed up as a scrawny little man with no blood and cheekbones that could scratch diamond. He's set in his default slouch with his crutch leaning next to him, and his braced leg is resting at an angle near the table's end. If Benedict has seen him before, he's likely seen him looking worse; this version of him is looking markedly less like he just climbed out of a nest in the wall. He has even brushed his hair, though as usual it persists in doing its little flippy thing.

Both his hands barely leave the table's surface to turn palm up, his head suggests a shake, he squints: bro, what?

[altusimperius]

He's not bad-looking, though could use a little meat on his bones, not that anyone asked; but Benedict catches that look and sends a similar one back, with a slight wrinkle of his nose as if to say can I help you?

[grindset]

Ah, so it's like that.

Viktor eases into what appears to be a form of wry disapproval, complete with hooded eyelids and lax posture, wholly unimpressed. His hands relax. He moves with an obvious sigh.

After a contemplative glance down, one long hand turns on its bony wrist to point at his bowl; somehow, through some subtlety of expression, it looks like a question.

[altusimperius]

Following the gesture with his eyes, Benedict looks at the bowl, then back up at Viktor, giving a shrug of incomprehension. What? he mouths.

[grindset]

This one ought to be easy to interpret: a single dismissive swipe of his hand. Never mind, it says, he's not going to pantomime a whole-ass conversation. His gaze likewise falls away, and he moves like he's ready to get up—

iv

[bouchonne]

By now, Benedict has probably gotten rather adept at reading Byerly's moods. Or perhaps it's simply that Byerly's trust for the boy has grown enough that he's willing to let his moods show - or perhaps it's some combination of the two. Regardless, as he lounges, he can no doubt read tension in his superior: there's an edge to his manner and to his voice, a brittleness to his expression.

"Artemaeus," he greets, giving a wave of greeting in return. "You've been missed."

(Perhaps remarkably, for once, there's no edge of irony when Byerly says that.)

[altusimperius]

It would be impossible not to read the tension in Byerly's manner, but the words strike with sincerity, which means Benedict can immediately skip over the part where he worries he's done something wrong. If he had, he'd no doubt have heard about it by now, and probably from someone other than Byerly.

"...did something happen?" he asks, testing the water.

[bouchonne]

"Yes," Byerly responds at once. But emotional intimacy is not, of course, coming; instead, he responds in a clipped manner. "People came in and talked to me. There was no one to stop them. It was terrible."

So - perhaps Benedict did do a bit wrong, but only by not being officiously in others' way.

[altusimperius]

"Ah."

It's obvious that isn't the whole truth behind the situation, but trying to drag it out of Byerly (without any special soup, at least) is far beyond Benedict's abilities and even farther above his pay grade.

He comes in further to slump into his chair, taking stock of the desk he left behind.

"Nothing a good barricade shouldn't fix."

[bouchonne]

"Unfortunately, we're currently suffering some shortages. Insufficient barricade-making materials and the like."

A quirk of his eyebrow.

"I don't suppose you'd be willing to throw yourself bodily in their way? You could be the foundation of a decent barricade, no?"

[altusimperius]

“There are two perfectly good desks right here,” Benedict whines, lolling his head back and rolling his eyes as if Byerly actually just requested this of him in earnest.

“Besides,” he says to the ceiling, “I think we’ve learned I don’t hold much promise as a meat shield.”

iv watch me make my own personal wildcard (hope it is ok)

[inkindled]

"Where were you?"

During the mandatory remote work period, in which a large contingent of the Forces Division have relocated to Kirkwall proper to make way for the visit of a certain Chantry Mother, it becomes a necessary task of the Forces assistant to carry regular sheaves of paperwork from the Hightown matter to the docks of Kirkwall, wait for the ferry from the Gallows to make its way across the water, then place the papers upon the ferry to be sent back to the Gallows, where they will be disseminated, processed, filed, or fully ignored. It is the very definition of busywork and Matthias is nearly certain that it's busywork assigned to him simply to keep him busy, and that if he looked in the packet of papers he would find nothing but gibberish or, worse, blank parchment. Or perhaps a note informing him of his termination from his position of Forces assistant if he opens the packet, which will be immediately enforced.

He has plenty of time to spin this conspiracy theory in his long treks to and from the docks, and during his long wait for the ferry's arrival. In fact this is what he's been thinking about as he's stood on the dock, staring resentfully down at the packet of papers. Woken from this reverie only by the soft thud of the ferry bumping against the dock, he looks up and there's Benedict, Diplomacy assistant.

Before his forced relocation, he would often have the occasion to pass by the Diplomacy office with some frequency (and, if no one was looking, and he was a particularly petty mood, he might also spit upon the floor as he was passing by). But lately Matthias had seen naught but an empty desk in the outer chamber. He's thought, in passing, what might have become of Benedict--where he might have gone, what work he might be doing--and it's not been that long, that seeing Benedict is a complete surprise--but, all the same, this isn't who he'd expected to see today on the ferry.

He raises his eyebrows significantly. Well, boyo? "Go on, say."

literally how dare you

[altusimperius]

Somehow having found himself not on the undesirables list, Benedict has defaulted back to his usual form of stress relief after work, which he has close to zero interest in explaining to Matthias. Fortunately, that doesn't seem to be the issue on the table, and he balks with an incredulous glare at the hostility with which he's greeted.

"Antiva?" he replies, stepping off the ferry, "what's it to you?"

uwu

[inkindled]

"All right, only asking--"

One hand up, a gesture of peace. The other hand is still holding to the packet of papers, which cannot be lost or blown into the bay or anything, even if they are likely complete nonsense. This is his duty and Matthias is sticking to it.

"What's in Antiva? Besides Antivans, and shit food."

[altusimperius]

His guard lowering, Benedict offers Matthias a dry smirk that doesn't quite meet his eyes. What's in Antiva, indeed.

"I was on a mission," he replies loftily-- that's right, a solo mission-- "to find out who's smuggling Tevene goods into Antiva. Lots of, um." He shrugs one shoulder, suddenly a bit uneasy, "my father's sort of people."

[inkindled]

His eyebrows raise a little, despite himself. A solo mission is impressive, especially when assistant work might more normally involve being sat in an office. That's not entirely the case for a Riftwatch assistant--there aren't enough members to allow for any real idleness--but that only means you've got to catch up on paperwork after your mission. And a solo mission means some trust as well, so. He gives a grudging little nod. Right.

"A Vint helping to smuggle Tevene goods. Makes sense. Or has your father got a more specific sort of people?"

[altusimperius]

Benedict snorts, not taking the bait.

"His people are other merchants," he explains, stepping off the ferry and beginning to make his way toward Lowtown, under the impression that Matthias will come along with him if he wants. "People of means who don't see why a little embargo should diminish their fortunes."

At a glance, he carries himself such haughtiness that it might appear Matthias is his assistant.

"I know the trade, sort of. I at least know the families involved."

II

[armd]

No no it's perfect, because Abby has been wondering if she'd even be permitted to come sit with him after that stupid disagreement, and Benedict accidentally eyeballing her in the middle of the dining hall is the perfect excuse to come sit with him, actually. She takes the seat opposite, clatters her bowl and fork down.

"Hi."

She wastes no time getting into her meal. He can't make her leave if she's eating. "You okay?"

He don't look so good again. The nightmares really don't agree with him, do they.

[altusimperius]

He makes a face when her eyes meet his, if only because there's no doubt now that A Conversation is going to happen, and Benedict is tired and he's grumpy and he would much rather avoid the last thing they talked about. Like, forever.

"I'm in the springtime of my life," Benedict drily replies, avoiding Abby's gaze in favor of staring at his bowl.

[armd]

"Oh, sure."

But drawing attention to Benedict looking terrible does nothing for his mood, so Abby pivots, chewing, "Where've you been?" She noticed he wasn't around for Starkhaven. Or at all, recently. (They can absolutely avoid what they talked about, that suits her just fine.)

[altusimperius]

He has been somewhere, hasn't he? It already seems like ages ago.

"Antiva," he answers primly, but quickly adds, "on assignment. Diplomacy stuff." As in, he didn't fuck off to sip wine on a veranda somewhere while everyone was battling it out in Starkhaven.
And speaking of which,

"seems like a lot's happened."

[armd]

Abby hmmms in approval, and pushes her food around in her bowl for a moment before she answers him. "Yeeeah."

That's all there is to say about it. "How much do you know about Starkhaven?"

[altusimperius]

“That it was lain to waste recently,” he answers, uncharacteristically direct.

“Were you there?”