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Possibly. It shouldn't be a problem, since the lot of you are good about minding yourself.
[ She does not specify about what and her tone suggests that he will not ask for specificities. ]
She's asking after that poor sod who went abomination a bit ago.
[ She does not specify about what and her tone suggests that he will not ask for specificities. ]
She's asking after that poor sod who went abomination a bit ago.
Periodically, Benedict's morning errands will bring him past the infirmary. It's become force of habit for him to pop his head in momentarily to see if Colin is there, and for the last however long, this has been reduced to a quick glance when the familiar silhouette fails to be there.
Today, he ends up doing a double-take, his mind already moving on from the check even after his eyes have told him that Colin is, in fact, present. Benedict backtracks a few steps until he's framed by the doorway, then opens his arms.
"You're back!"
Today, he ends up doing a double-take, his mind already moving on from the check even after his eyes have told him that Colin is, in fact, present. Benedict backtracks a few steps until he's framed by the doorway, then opens his arms.
"You're back!"
"Um," Benedict falters, hugging Colin tightly-- he's missed him.
"...well, a lot's happened. But it's good." He pulls back, scratching the back of his neck.
"I think."
"...well, a lot's happened. But it's good." He pulls back, scratching the back of his neck.
"I think."
"Oh. Uh,"
He has to think about it a moment, and ultimately decides this is not a conversation had quickly.
"...yes. Lunch. See you at lunch?"
He flashes Colin a smile as he starts back out of the infirmary.
He has to think about it a moment, and ultimately decides this is not a conversation had quickly.
"...yes. Lunch. See you at lunch?"
He flashes Colin a smile as he starts back out of the infirmary.
"Lunch, then." Colin pats Bene on the shoulder fondly, letting the touch linger a moment before letting him back out the door. After a long, bleak mission, having a little human touch that isn't work-related is just the ticket. "See you then."
At the appointed time, they meet in the hookah room. Not to smoke, but because it's a default escape for them. Colin has brought Bene a serving of his famous paella and sets it before him with a smile.
At the appointed time, they meet in the hookah room. Not to smoke, but because it's a default escape for them. Colin has brought Bene a serving of his famous paella and sets it before him with a smile.
Benedict is smoking, but just a cigarette by the window rather than sprawling with the hookah. He perks up when Colin enters, giving a little gasp of delight when he smells what he's holding.
"Oh! You're the best!"
"Oh! You're the best!"
"Well," Bene begins, speaking between mouthfuls, "I went on a trip too. To Orlais. We fought a dragon."
He couldn't be prouder; not only leaving the Gallows, but doing something useful with it, has bolstered his spirits.
He couldn't be prouder; not only leaving the Gallows, but doing something useful with it, has bolstered his spirits.
The way Colin's eyes widen is because he's genuinely in awe. Fighting a dragon is on a lot of peoples' bucket list. To him, it's something to be admired at a distance.
"So you're a dragon-slayer now," he says, a little smile creeping onto his face and an eyebrow lifting.
"So you're a dragon-slayer now," he says, a little smile creeping onto his face and an eyebrow lifting.
"I guess." Tucking a strand of hair behind one ear, Benedict shrugs and takes another bite of paella.
"Dickerson and I were behind a rock the whole time, casting at it. Everyone else did the real work."
"Dickerson and I were behind a rock the whole time, casting at it. Everyone else did the real work."
"Thank you." His smile is warm, if evasive-- for someone who loves attention, it's surprisingly hard for him to take credit for his part in all this.
"Jone wanted me to go. And this new rifter, Gabranth, um... it was sort of his idea too. His title is Judge Magister, where he comes from. When we first met I thought he was. You know."
He gestures vaguely, "a Magister."
"Jone wanted me to go. And this new rifter, Gabranth, um... it was sort of his idea too. His title is Judge Magister, where he comes from. When we first met I thought he was. You know."
He gestures vaguely, "a Magister."
A cringing smile. "It was."
Pausing to chew another bite, Benedict's brow furrows as he recollects the incident.
"But we cleared it up. And he was... really adamant about personally overseeing my training." The smile returns, in the form of an uncertain smirk, "it's... it's kind of nice."
Pausing to chew another bite, Benedict's brow furrows as he recollects the incident.
"But we cleared it up. And he was... really adamant about personally overseeing my training." The smile returns, in the form of an uncertain smirk, "it's... it's kind of nice."
"I used to hate having a tutor. I didn't want anyone telling me what to do."
He shrugs a shoulder lackadaisically. "But it feels different now."
He shrugs a shoulder lackadaisically. "But it feels different now."
"Maybe."
If his mind went there, Benedict doesn't show it, without a smirk or an eyebrow waggle to be found.
"...maybe I was ready for it this time."
If his mind went there, Benedict doesn't show it, without a smirk or an eyebrow waggle to be found.
"...maybe I was ready for it this time."
What is Gabranth teaching him? Combat, sort of, but it's more nebulous than that, which he realizes at this moment, staring through Colin as he thinks about it.
When his eyes refocus, his mouth hangs open for a second and he says, "how to be less of a fuckup."
When his eyes refocus, his mouth hangs open for a second and he says, "how to be less of a fuckup."
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