[open + closed] I know I've got a big ego

[altusimperius]

WHO: Benedict & you
WHAT: this and that
WHEN: Firstfallish
WHERE: hither and yon
NOTES: contains sluts and their slut problems

I. Girls' Outing feat. Abby (closed)

He's trying not to look haggard when he comes down to the courtyard, but it's clear that the effort Benedict put into his appearance today is significantly less than the usual: for instance, his outfit is clean but unremarkable, with his Riftwatch cloak thrown over it, and his hair is a bit mussed from the autumn wind. His lips are flat with indignation at how it blows across his face, but his eyes are grateful when he meets Abby's on his approach, slumping a little as he walks.


II. A Horrible Dinner feat. Basterly & Cassian (closed)

He brought wine, and a fancy dessert, and a new little sweater for Rattie-Wattie, which may have been knitted for a baby but she is a baby you see--
and Benedict has been at their house for a little while, ostensibly because he was invited for important diplomatic Tevene reasons but more transparently to dote on his favorite little dog. He even sits on the floor to help arrange her properly in the garment, monologuing quietly about how well it compliments her natural coloring. Byerly? Bastien? Who are they.


III. Let's Paint the Town (open)

With nobody to tell him he shouldn't, and no recent arrivals to interview and organize, Benedict has taken the liberty of continuing his dining hall mural into the adjacent hallway. He attends to it on his breaks, perched on a stool or a ladder as he painstakingly sketches, stencils, and paints an abstract but elaborate pattern around doorways and across the upper walls. It all matches. He is doing this for normal psychologically healthy reasons, as is evidenced by the hard set of concentration on his face that is almost certainly going to give him wrinkles.

He can be broken out of it, however, if addressed or distracted (or yelled at).


IV. Practical Magic (open)

Somewhat emboldened by his training with Isaac, Benedict has taken some of his studies out into the training yard; not to practice with his staff as a weapon on its own, as he's done in the past, but to actually cast offensive magic on the dummies and see what happens.
He's quite self-conscious about it still, seeming overly-aware of anyone passing by, and takes care to only do it when The Big Ex-Templar isn't nearby watching, but it's the most public he's ever been about combat magic. Perhaps yet another leaf is turning over, and perhaps he could use a sparring partner, if anyone's up for a particular kind of bad time.

V. Wildcard

Comments

[interroga]

“””Fun”””. That word’s getting stretched pretty much to its limit tonight, for a few different reasons. Cassian hesitates with his hands leaning against the back of the chair — with the current layout, it means he doesn’t get a view of the other men in the room, and won’t have any idea if Artemaeus is currently glaring lethal daggers behind his back — but, well. Needs must.

“Homier than the public dining hall, at least.” A beat. “Any other table-setting I can help with? Cups, glasses?”