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[it was beautiful while it lasted, but Benedict can only resist his nature for so long. he rolls his eyes with a little scoff:]
--oh, sorry, did you have plans?
--oh, sorry, did you have plans?
[he pauses again, this time the opening-closing mouth accompanied by a flash of outrage as he spits back:]
Do you indeed? Does Fransisco know?
Do you indeed? Does Fransisco know?
Edited (wording) 2024-10-07 23:58 (UTC)
[when he tosses his hair, the motion manages to be both angry and proud, like a horse flipping its luxuriant mane.]
And neither is my life or what I'm doing with it any of yours, last I checked.
And neither is my life or what I'm doing with it any of yours, last I checked.
[a snort, biting back greater aggravation:]
no wonder Mother loved you.
no wonder Mother loved you.
Edited (he did not fool around with her tween brother ok) 2024-10-08 00:46 (UTC)
Fuck off, [he spits—- he walked right into this, and yet,]
You know what? Yes, go back to Tevinter. Go right to Minrathous, she’ll welcome you with open arms. You can even go meet the Elder One, he’ll love to finally have one of these in his possession to stay.
[He rips off his glove to flex his fingers around the shard.]
Maybe she’ll even make you heir. Wouldn’t that be grand.
You know what? Yes, go back to Tevinter. Go right to Minrathous, she’ll welcome you with open arms. You can even go meet the Elder One, he’ll love to finally have one of these in his possession to stay.
[He rips off his glove to flex his fingers around the shard.]
Maybe she’ll even make you heir. Wouldn’t that be grand.
(Oh, that's it —
Anybody relatively nearby will hear Vega clearly as she raises her voice to a proper scream of frustration. Her eyes are suddenly stinging.) I don't want to be heir of your ridiculous family, I want to be heir of mine!
I want what I'm owed!
Anybody relatively nearby will hear Vega clearly as she raises her voice to a proper scream of frustration. Her eyes are suddenly stinging.) I don't want to be heir of your ridiculous family, I want to be heir of mine!
I want what I'm owed!
[It’s enough to make him flinch, and Benedict steps back in retreat.]
You’ve got it, [he calls imperiously to her, gesturing around at the courtyard as he backs away,]
everything you’re owed. Right here.
You’ve got it, [he calls imperiously to her, gesturing around at the courtyard as he backs away,]
everything you’re owed. Right here.
(Vega, who is working herself up into proper hyperventilation, doesn't have the breath to tell him to get out of her sight. But he is leaving of his own accord by the look of it — good. Good!!
She gasps in deep before bursting into angry tears right there in the courtyard, pressing her face into her hands to hide.)
She gasps in deep before bursting into angry tears right there in the courtyard, pressing her face into her hands to hide.)
[He pauses, looks uncertain— she’s crying—- but for once in his life, Benedict has the sense to recognize how not to make an ugly situation worse.
He turns and walks away, the exchange already looming over him to stew on indefinitely.]
He turns and walks away, the exchange already looming over him to stew on indefinitely.]
Edited 2024-10-09 00:49 (UTC)
Lady Arany. I hoped to ask a few questions of your Anchor, it's rare to gain a Tevene perspective.
It's a quiet afternoon in the aerie, where all the raptors are hanging out together: Teren, seated on a bale of hay, stitches griffons' names methodically onto their blankets.
She casts a glance up at the room's new arrival, and, without making eye contact, grunts: "You there. Girl. Come here."
She casts a glance up at the room's new arrival, and, without making eye contact, grunts: "You there. Girl. Come here."
The girl stops at the door, made briefly silent by irritation and embarrassment. Then, moving swiftly and boots clicking importantly on the stone floor she passes Teren by completely, opting to ignore her. She has something in her arms for the griffon she seeks: Blanche, who at this very moment is attempting to hork something up and is making weird, convulsing retching sounds in the corner as she dislodges something partly digested.
Vega makes a face and turns away. But then she has to look at Teren, so she stares impatiently up at the walls instead.
Vega makes a face and turns away. But then she has to look at Teren, so she stares impatiently up at the walls instead.
Edited 2024-12-10 02:17 (UTC)
Teren’s laugh is a crackle as she catches Vega’s reaction out of her periphery.
“Or will her ladyship be waiting to collect the half-digested fish?”
She pulls the thread through with a hiss as her hand spasms.
“Or will her ladyship be waiting to collect the half-digested fish?”
She pulls the thread through with a hiss as her hand spasms.
"Mucking stalls, your ladyship," Teren answers lightly, massaging her hand a moment before she retrieves the needle and pulls it through again. "It's a fine thing, you may've heard of it-- the peasants call it 'sewing'."
She doesn't look up.
She doesn't look up.
That actually merits a glance-- a mother who teaches her daughter a skill can't be all bad, and Teren is, however minutely, impressed.
"Names," she replies, in surprisingly good faith, pausing to angle her work toward Vega so she can see. "A blanket to each beastie."
"Names," she replies, in surprisingly good faith, pausing to angle her work toward Vega so she can see. "A blanket to each beastie."
"I thought so." Righting it in her lap once more, Teren stitches again, her joints behaving themselves for now.
"Pick up that end?" she grunts, nodding toward the side of the blanket closer to Vega, "I need it taut a moment." It's more request than command, simply spoken by someone who never quite learned to say please.
"Pick up that end?" she grunts, nodding toward the side of the blanket closer to Vega, "I need it taut a moment." It's more request than command, simply spoken by someone who never quite learned to say please.
A request suits Vega much better and so after a slight hesitation she places her package on the ground. Blanche is still busy with whatever is halfway up her throat so she has time to assist: she takes the side and holds it, leaning away until it stretches out.
"How many have you done?"
"How many have you done?"
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