[It is strange, granted, to imagine that someone with such a privileged and particular air as Benedict should not own many things-- less strange to imagine that he'd guard jealously what he does own, as that's not unprecedented for the wealthy, but there is instead something desperate in how he hangs onto the few material objects he's been able to procure since starting over.
He senses that he's snapped at Edgard, and his instinct is to withdraw; it's humiliating, for several reasons.]
I'll show you where, [he grunts in agreement, and then turns off his crystal. He needs a moment.]
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That's why I'm asking!
There's so many, Benedict!
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...don't touch my things, Edgard!
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Had I not asked would you have even noticed?
Let me have one, Benedict!
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[His voice breaks as he grows more emotional to add:]
They took all my shit and sold it, Edgard! Everything! Just let me fucking keep what's mine!
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Wasn't trying to--
[Deep breath.]
Not taking anything, I promise. Haven't touched it. Just looked. But won't anymore.
[He feels extremely bad. To him, Benedict's things seem extravagant and excessive, but he sees that it's very different to Benedict.]
M-Maybe you could show me where to get it? And...tell me how much it costs?
[There is the rub. This shit looks expensive.]
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He senses that he's snapped at Edgard, and his instinct is to withdraw; it's humiliating, for several reasons.]
I'll show you where, [he grunts in agreement, and then turns off his crystal. He needs a moment.]