[closed] let's go girls

[altusimperius]

WHO: Bastien, Benedict, Byerly (the Better Business Bureau)
WHAT: DRAG NIGHT
WHEN: sometime in [mumbles] winter
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: will add if necessary, I don't think anyone who's offended by any of this would last very long in this game

Fausta was an amalgamation of things: undergarments and cosmetics and shoes from Byerly, a wig and hair decorations and a fine Minrathousian gown from the Scouting closet, all mishmashed together in a convincing approximation of a wealthy lady in Tevinter's high society. It had done the job, and Benedict enjoyed the effort, but has since summarily refused to participate in Kirkwall's scene until he's gotten all the details just right.

And finally, he has: it's the night of an event in one of Lowtown's more curious establishments, and, having born witness to it before but in plainclothes, Benedict is ready for Fausta to make her society debut.
Or, at least, he will be when they're finished getting ready-- having arrived at Byerly and Bastien's house with all his things and a fancy cheese tray, the preparations have begun.

Comments

[bouchonne]

Byerly turns his head up to study Bastien's face a moment. Looking for the little signs of sorrow and anger and weariness that - Well, even he can't read them all the time. But of everyone in the world, he's probably the very best at it.

"I'm sorry." He rubs Bastien's knee. "You deserved someone taking care of you when that happened."

[cozen]

"I did not want that either," Bastien says, and maybe it's not true — maybe, possibly, there was a reason Byerly's death is what sent him searching for his parents and his big sister after all that time — but he thinks it is. He certainly didn't want or expect it from anyone in the Gallows, each reeling from losses of their own. "I didn't want anything except for you to not be gone."

At the club talking about the alternate timeline where everyone died — he kisses the crown of Byerly's head and drags (get it?) them out of the mire.

"I do owe him for the soup," he says. Benedict coming to check on them when they were hurt — that was sweet.

[bouchonne]

"Mm." By brightens a bit; Bastien's segue gives him permission to be less morose on his beloved's behalf.

"That was quite nice, wasn't it?" Then, with a sigh and a pout, "Wouldn't it be so dreadfully nice if we were rich enough to have servants to fetch us soup at will?"

[cozen]

"We could be," Bastien says, warming up to the lighter mood with a criminal drawl, "if your heart was a little more rotten."