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Benedict holds it as requested, stepping aside with a look of initial surprise that turns pleased when he realizes why Gela is here.
"Definitely," he decides-- who cares if it actually is-- and grins, closing the door behind her. "What've you got?"
"Definitely," he decides-- who cares if it actually is-- and grins, closing the door behind her. "What've you got?"
"Many things!"
Hair: tied, box lid: off. She tilts the top one toward Benedict to show him the fabric and ribbons inside, rather haphazardly packed. "I know you said you wanted the dress taken in but I brought my scrap-box in case you see anything you like — we could always add it on?"
Hair: tied, box lid: off. She tilts the top one toward Benedict to show him the fabric and ribbons inside, rather haphazardly packed. "I know you said you wanted the dress taken in but I brought my scrap-box in case you see anything you like — we could always add it on?"
"Ooh."
Coming over to peer into the box, Benedict helps himself to a silky black ribbon, which he withdraws with an appraising look before glancing hopefully to Gela.
It's difficult to see her, to hear her voice, without remembering her on the other side of a steel grate, weak and tired and hopeless: the taste of tattered leather, the smell of mildew, the cold.
But here they both are, hale and healthy, like it never happened. Altering a dress.
"Could we do something with this?" he asks, extending the ribbon to its full length.
Coming over to peer into the box, Benedict helps himself to a silky black ribbon, which he withdraws with an appraising look before glancing hopefully to Gela.
It's difficult to see her, to hear her voice, without remembering her on the other side of a steel grate, weak and tired and hopeless: the taste of tattered leather, the smell of mildew, the cold.
But here they both are, hale and healthy, like it never happened. Altering a dress.
"Could we do something with this?" he asks, extending the ribbon to its full length.
Julius is a man of habit. While Benedict sees him regularly, it is somewhat irregular to have him popping in at an unplanned moment. On the other hand, it's the middle of the day, and their offices aren't far from one another, so it really is only odd because it's Julius knocking on the door frame (since the door itself is open).
"Do you have minute? Nothing dire if you're in the middle of something else."
At least his tone matches his words. He doesn't seem to be breaking his habit because anything is on fire, metaphorically or otherwise.
"Do you have minute? Nothing dire if you're in the middle of something else."
At least his tone matches his words. He doesn't seem to be breaking his habit because anything is on fire, metaphorically or otherwise.
It’s a welcome interruption from the tedium of paperwork, and Benedict smiles up at the door from his desk.
“What can I do for you, Seneschal?”
“What can I do for you, Seneschal?”
"I had a couple of questions for you if you have a moment." He comes in properly to sit across from Benedict properly, not on edge but with the air of one too many irons in the fire he often has these days. "I suppose, first, I was wondering if there was anything you were hurting for in particular, supply-wise. We're all dealing with the same shortages, paper and so on, but I'm stepping in for the few duties I can wrest away from the Quartermaster while she's in the infirmary. At the very least, I could save her some legwork on prioritizing resupplies if she insists on working from bed."
He's more quietly concerned than critical. For one thing, he's no better as a patient and he knows it. Still, if he can keep Ness's work lighter at present, he's inclined to do so.
He's more quietly concerned than critical. For one thing, he's no better as a patient and he knows it. Still, if he can keep Ness's work lighter at present, he's inclined to do so.
Sometimes in order to forget the horrors that's exactly what you need to do: add ribbons to things. This is something she is well practiced at — maybe too much so. Gela takes it from him and it slips through his fingers, satiny. "Maybe trim? Or as a bow?
"You should put the dress on, so I can measure, and we can play around with the ribbon."
She's cuffing sleeves one after the other, bringing them to her elbows.
"You should put the dress on, so I can measure, and we can play around with the ribbon."
She's cuffing sleeves one after the other, bringing them to her elbows.
"Ooh."
There is, of course, the obvious request: "paper?" Suggested with a hopeful, endearing smile-- hasn't he been ever so good and doesn't he deserve it more than anyone else who asks-- but there's a humor in his eyes as well, as he already knows what the likely answer will be.
There is, of course, the obvious request: "paper?" Suggested with a hopeful, endearing smile-- hasn't he been ever so good and doesn't he deserve it more than anyone else who asks-- but there's a humor in his eyes as well, as he already knows what the likely answer will be.
"Is a bow too--" he pauses, considering, then lands on-- "juvenile?" But even so, he nods, coming behind Gela to close the door so he can remove his outer tunic. He obviously won't be wearing trousers under the dress, but there's no need to make this weird for either of them by taking those off.
Not long after receiving a talking-to, Bastien turns up in the doorway to Benedict's office and says, "Catch."
The little bundle of cloth tossed at him, underhand, contains a pair of earrings, matched but asymmetrical and high enough quality that there is no way he did not steal them.
That means it's costing him more, actually, to say, "I'm sorry for giving you a hard time."
The little bundle of cloth tossed at him, underhand, contains a pair of earrings, matched but asymmetrical and high enough quality that there is no way he did not steal them.
That means it's costing him more, actually, to say, "I'm sorry for giving you a hard time."
Rueful but not without a hint of a smile, he says, "Ever and always doing what I can on that front. Maybe some will fall out of a rift, it sounds like other worlds also have paper. One can always hope." Even if futilely. On which note: "Provost Niehaus mentioned something about a surface that can be written on and cleaned, like a chalkboard but less dusty. Maybe we'll get one of those and save ourselves some trouble."
Benedict does not look up fast enough to catch, and the small bundle lands to nearly skid off his desk, but he manages to grab it in time. His look at Bastien is questioning, perhaps a little incredulous, until he unfolds the cloth and hears what he has to say.
He opens his mouth, thinks a moment, closes it.
"It wasn't easy for you," he says measuredly, carefully, "being forgotten."
He opens his mouth, thinks a moment, closes it.
"It wasn't easy for you," he says measuredly, carefully, "being forgotten."
"Couldn't hurt to try," Benedict muses, relaxing out of his begging stance to look down at what he was working on before Julius entered-- and something occurs to him, causing him to sit straight back up again.
"I do need your counsel on something," he realizes, "or-- perhaps everyone's-- I'm not sure. Manfred, the ah. The professor's assistant. ...skeleton."
His smile is something more like a grimace.
"How do we... what do we do with Manfred."
"I do need your counsel on something," he realizes, "or-- perhaps everyone's-- I'm not sure. Manfred, the ah. The professor's assistant. ...skeleton."
His smile is something more like a grimace.
"How do we... what do we do with Manfred."
“Nnneh,” Bastien says, shrugging. Or more eloquently: “C'est la vie, c'est la mort, c'est la grande inévitabilité.”
It’s like so fine.
“And thank you,” he adds. “It is good to know that if something happens to me, Byerly will have someone else there to tell him not to let dangerously mad vagrants sleep in his house.”
It’s like so fine.
“And thank you,” he adds. “It is good to know that if something happens to me, Byerly will have someone else there to tell him not to let dangerously mad vagrants sleep in his house.”
IS IT FINE
Benedict squints a little bit, not daring enough to call Bastien out directly, but not completely buying the dismissal. If it's really that simple, then... no, it's never that simple.
But he can't help heaving a sigh of deep relief at the reassurance-- he wasn't in the wrong, necessarily, for how he reacted in the moment.
He looks at the earrings again, expression softening. "These are nice," he remarks, and holds one up to his ear with a little smile as though to test it, modeling for Bastien. "You didn't have to."
Benedict squints a little bit, not daring enough to call Bastien out directly, but not completely buying the dismissal. If it's really that simple, then... no, it's never that simple.
But he can't help heaving a sigh of deep relief at the reassurance-- he wasn't in the wrong, necessarily, for how he reacted in the moment.
He looks at the earrings again, expression softening. "These are nice," he remarks, and holds one up to his ear with a little smile as though to test it, modeling for Bastien. "You didn't have to."
Edited 2025-04-07 21:33 (UTC)
“I know,” Bastien says, smiling as if oblivious to all squinting. He is rather proud of the find; either one will look good alone, or they’ll look good together, and they match Benedict’s ensemble from the other night well enough. “But it was nothing. Truly nothing. If anyone accuses you of stealing of those, tell them the truth, that you got them from me, and I will handle it from there, ouais?”
Try as he might to remain skeptical, Benedict's resolve is beginning to slip; Bastien can be so warm and so affable, and at times it's near impossible not to be drawn in by how badly one wants it to be sincere.
"Is that likely?" Benedict asks, lowering the earring again, his smile growing uncertain. Then, tentatively, "...did you steal them?"
"Is that likely?" Benedict asks, lowering the earring again, his smile growing uncertain. Then, tentatively, "...did you steal them?"
“No, no, of course not.”
His smile is vague. He could wink, loop Benedict in, but that’s no good; Bastien doesn’t trust him not to fumble a lie.
Anyway, it is very unlikely anyone will miss them, and doubly unlikely someone who misses them will see them on Benedict. Maker bless the eluvian network for allowing easy geographical dispersement of crimes.
“I’ll let you get back to work.”
His smile is vague. He could wink, loop Benedict in, but that’s no good; Bastien doesn’t trust him not to fumble a lie.
Anyway, it is very unlikely anyone will miss them, and doubly unlikely someone who misses them will see them on Benedict. Maker bless the eluvian network for allowing easy geographical dispersement of crimes.
“I’ll let you get back to work.”
Somehow the reassurance only increases Benedict's doubts, and his face falls a little further-- he's going to wear them, obviously, but perhaps at his own risk. He'll never look gift earrings in the. Posts?
He's inspecting them again when Bastien turns to go, but attempts to still him with a furtive "wait."
It's awkward, and he has that very particular Inconvenienced Nobility look about him, like he's about to do something he doesn't want to but knows he should.
"I'm sorry," he adds, trying not to look away, "for what I said." About Rat Red, of course.
He's inspecting them again when Bastien turns to go, but attempts to still him with a furtive "wait."
It's awkward, and he has that very particular Inconvenienced Nobility look about him, like he's about to do something he doesn't want to but knows he should.
"I'm sorry," he adds, trying not to look away, "for what I said." About Rat Red, of course.
Bastien waits, vague smile unaltered until Benedict apologizes. Then it widens and he shakes his head.
“It’s alright,” he says. “It’s true.”
Another thing that is sooooo fine.
“I can bring her along when I come to the Gallows tomorrow if you want an office dog for a couple of hours.”
“It’s alright,” he says. “It’s true.”
Another thing that is sooooo fine.
“I can bring her along when I come to the Gallows tomorrow if you want an office dog for a couple of hours.”
That smile is almost more unnerving than if he'd gotten mad. Alarm bells are sounding in Benedict's brain, but to speak on them would be far worse than to let them be-- he's not prepared for that conversation, and may never be.
"...all right," he accepts, gently skating past that answer, because, in truth, "I'd like that."
"...all right," he accepts, gently skating past that answer, because, in truth, "I'd like that."
Benedict doesn't stop him, but offers a nod of acknowledgment and, wisely, doesn't throw any further salt in the wound.
That was cordial. Maybe it'll be all right.
That was cordial. Maybe it'll be all right.
"Maker, what a question to have to deal with." Not, clearly, Benedict's fault. "I suppose with Volkarin present, there's not much to do unless he," it? deeply unclear, "misbehaves. I can't say I'm thrilled with an ambulatory spirit running around the Gallows on principle. Then again, we've had other situations I wasn't enthusiastic about in the past."
A brief shake of the head, but then an increased focus. "I didn't ask and I should: Has anyone complained? Or is it just the broader situation that you're asking about?" The latter still makes sense, but the former could mean the need for a different approach.
A brief shake of the head, but then an increased focus. "I didn't ask and I should: Has anyone complained? Or is it just the broader situation that you're asking about?" The latter still makes sense, but the former could mean the need for a different approach.
His smile broadening slightly at Julius' reaction, Benedict is pleased to commiserate on the matter.
"Not directly," he replies-- has anyone complained-- "but if startled reactions and looks askance in the Gallows are any indication, it's going to be an interesting time if the Professor tries to take him out into greater Kirkwall."
"Not directly," he replies-- has anyone complained-- "but if startled reactions and looks askance in the Gallows are any indication, it's going to be an interesting time if the Professor tries to take him out into greater Kirkwall."
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