contact part deux

[bouchonne]

if this were modern times byerly would probably make you listen to total eclipse of the heart before you were able to leave a message

Comments

[altusimperius]

[Bene shakes his head with a wince.]

...well, I mean, Jone says I can just watch. But Gabranth wants me to participate.

Have you met Gabranth? Hard to miss him, he always has his plate on.

[bouchonne]

Mm. I sent him on a mission to pick flowers.

[altusimperius]

[Snicker,]

I bet he loved that.

[bouchonne]

Everyone loves flowers.

He's a very earnest fellow. Seems rather decent.

[altusimperius]

I think so.

[Bene pauses, twiddling his quill around in his fingers.]

He almost killed me. I thought he was a Templar. [It was a little more complicated than that, but,]

then when I told him my mother's a Magister, his whole demeanor changed. I think he thinks I'm important. And that he should protect me.

[Wince.]

Not that I mind, but.

[bouchonne]

[ A laugh. ]

Oh, Maker. A magister is something very different to him. Have you explained what it is here? To us?

[altusimperius]

Sort of.

[He knits his brow in a look of mild concern.]

It's a little tricky getting through his, ah... preconceived notions. [Which is to say, he is very large and stolid and has Thoughts about Things, and Benedict isn't about to tell someone why they should kick his ass.]

[bouchonne]

The longer you wait, the worse it will be.

[ Hm. ]

Well, maybe. Maybe he'll never figure it out. He doesn't seem like - hm - like the brightest fellow.

[altusimperius]

I did tell him we're estranged.

It's hard to know what he's thinking. I don't think he's stupid, just...

...different?

[bouchonne]

Oh, come on, I count on you for one thing. Cattiness.

[altusimperius]

[Benedict laughs, a genuine sound with an accompanying smile.]

Right, I know, but--

look, I think I'm done biting the hand that feeds me.

[bouchonne]

Hmm.

[ A skeptical look. ]

[altusimperius]

I can try, can't I?

[He arches his eyebrows.]

I'll still gossip about you, of course.

[bouchonne]

I'd be furious if you didn't. Make it mean.

[altusimperius]

A layabout and a scoundrel.

[He mimes writing.]

Abuses me daily. Derives enjoyment from it. Terrible taste in hats.

[bouchonne]

No one will believe that last one.

[altusimperius]

I believe it.

[bouchonne]

Still, even if you believe something, you must take care not to spread rumors that won't be believed by others. Even gossip-mongers can lose credibility.

[altusimperius]

...fine.

[This feels like a life lesson disguised as a joke, and he makes a mental note accordingly.]

Terrible taste in company.

[bouchonne]

Case in point.

[ A nod to Benedict. ]

[altusimperius]

Case in point.

[bouchonne]

[ A cluck of his tongue. ]

No, no. You can't be rude to yourself. That takes the joy out of it for me.

[altusimperius]

You like that sandcastle to be built before you kick it down.

[bouchonne]

Just so. It's no fun to wreck something if it's not beautiful.

[altusimperius]

You think I'm beautiful?