jjudicium-blog
S E E K E R.
INJUSTICE ANYWHERE IS A THREAT TO JUSTICE EVERYWHERE. BENJAMIN ALEXANDER DALTON.22. Student @ NYU Law. Brother. Unaligned human.
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DATE & TIME: March 12, 10:45am
LOCATION: Avalon Bowery
AVAILABILITY: @elise-senfuit
If there was something worth knowing about Benji, it was his ability to keep whatever promises he made. He did not like disappointing people, so most of the time he did everything in his power to avoid backtracking after giving his word. That, however, did not mean he kept absolutely every promise; he had, much to his dismay, broken a fair few. The majority of the time he felt guilty about it, but on this Monday, there was no guilt to be found in his chest. He had promised Tyler he wouldn’t study—it was their spring break, after all—, but here he was, putting on his shoes, wholly ready to head toward the library. As his hand touched the doorknob, he turned around to glance their quiet apartment for the last time. It was still early by Tyler’s standards; if all went well, he might not have woken up before he returned.
A soft chuckle fell from his lips as he, with a simple movement of his wrist, pushed the door open and exited the apartment. He was as silent as a human was capable of in his attempt to not arouse his best friend from his slumber — and fortunately for him, he succeeded. What he didn’t succeed in, however, was remaining focused on his surroundings, as evidenced by the way his heart skipped a beat when he realized he was not alone. “Jesus Christ!” He muttered far too loudly. Inhale, exhale, a blink of his eyes — now his focus seemed to return. The recognition painted his cheeks with a faint shade of pink as he understood there had been no reason for him to feel so frightened for a moment. “Sorry, I didn’t realize it was you.” The faint pink promptly turned a darker shade of red. “Trust me when I say I definitely did not mean to almost knock you over.”
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DATE & TIME: March 11, 2018; 12:30 pm
LOCATION: Their apartment.
AVAILABILITY: @anteuptyleryoung
Most people considered Sunday mornings blessings. They were people’s last opportunities to relax, to enjoy their last moments of freedom before another work week rolled around. Benji, however, was not one of those people. He wasn’t sure what exactly the time was, his eyes too focused on reading the article currently open on his laptop, his mind too concentrated on processing the absorbed information. He ran his fingers through his unkempt mop of hair as his other hand reached for his coffee mug absent-mindedly. Without losing his focus, Benji brought the mug to his lips — only to discover it was empty.
That was enough to bring him back to the present moment. He lifted his gaze from the screen sharply, now staring at the mug as if he had witnessed something completely unheard of. How come the mug was empty already? It hadn’t been that long since he had made it, had it? He glanced the clock briefly; and immediately did his lips curl upward into a sheepish smile. Okay, maybe a few hours had passed already. I guess it’s to make more. He hopped down from the chair and began to head toward the kitchen. Just as he reached the area, however, he heard a yawn come from somewhere behind; a sign that he was no longer the only person awake in their apartment.
“Perfect timing!” Benji laughed without turning around, for he knew exactly who it was. He would always know him — in life, in death, at the end of the world. “I was just about to make coffee for myself, but I suppose I can make some for you too.” A soft chuckle slipped past his lips. “How come you’re awake already, by the way? I thought I wouldn’t see you before dinner or something.”
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TOUCHTHEFLAMES.
Ember had never seen someone so precious. When she had strolled up, expecting a fight, she was instead greeted by a young man apologizing to her. He hesitated and stuttered, those big eyes of his reminding her of a calf. She was absolutely enchanted. Immediately focusing all of her attention at him, she merely waved off his protests before gesturing in the direction of the bar.
“People bring out the worst in us, darling, I completely understand.” She soothed, easing her way toward him. She just wanted to reach out and squeeze those cheeks. However, Ember kept her hands at her side. “Come now, there’s no need for such apologies. Buy a woman a simple drink and she’ll forget all of this, yes?” She offered him a red smile before turning her attention to the man who had provoked him, expression souring. “Carl, that’s the second fight this week, you bloody do it again and I’ll throw your ass out of here so hard you’ll orbit the planet and land right back at my feet.”
An eyebrow rose at her casual dismissal of the entire situation. Just a few fractions of a second ago she had appeared, firmly ready to extinguish the fight that had been brewing. Just a few fractions of a second ago, he had already made plans and thought of excuses to tell his father in case a word of this incident reached his ears. He had been prepared for a certain type of outcome, so when she behaved differently, he couldn’t help but be mildly confused.
“That’s, um, good to hear.” His lips curled upward in what he hoped to be a grateful smile. She had, after all, just saved him from what could’ve possibly been a catastrophe ( if he were to quote the Dalton family’s press agent ). He nodded wordlessly at her request, though the smile on his lips regained a touch of sincerity — buying her a drink would be the least he could do at this moment. His smile, however, faded as she addressed Carl; his expression turning confused. He wasn’t quite sure what to think of her stern tone — should he be scared or should he admire her for exuding the kind of confidence he had never known?
Before he could consider his answer further, he realized Carl had sulked away. “Thank you.” Benji smiled again. “So, what’s your go-to drink? Let me know and you will get it.”
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TOUCHTHEFLAMES.
when: march 6 2018
where: oakenfold casino
who: open to anyone
“Come now, my friends.” Ember murmured silkily as she eased her way toward the clearly agitated pair. Just when the night had started to get boring, a quick notice by surveillance let her know of a disagreement that had started to heat up near one of the poker tables. “I think it’s in everyone’s best interest if we just forget this little argument happened and went on ins separate ways with our evenings.”
His father had once said he’d been blessed with the patience of a saint; angering Benjamin Dalton was a feat considered practically impossible to accomplish by a mortal man. On this particular night, however, some stranger—who, Benji had no idea—had succeeded in achieving that goal. He had managed to get him to raise his voice ( not quite shouting, but above his normal level ), but before the situation could escalate further, they were interrupted. Clenching his fists, he breathed deeply — an effort to calm himself down.
“Yes, I think that’s for the best.” He mused in return, eyes falling closed briefly. If there was a bright side to be found, it was the lack of familiar figures witnessing his outburst. “I’m sorry for that.” Benji looked up, meeting her gaze. “I— I don’t know what went into me.”
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TOUCHTHEFLAMES.
Is it just me or are these “eighteen” year olds at Oakenfold looking more like ‘fourteen’?
“Should I, uh, take that as a compliment or as an offense? Because I’m actually 23.”
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NICKELFOREVERYTIME.
His head pounded like the bass from a shitty club downtown. The kind of club freshmen with fake IDs would rave to get into. Groaning some more, Nick slowly raised his head from his hands and gave Benji a haphazard smile. He shot his hand out to the side, groping to open the minicooler that served as his bedside table and pulling out a bottle of water from it. He cracked it open and guzzled at it as Benji entered his bedroom. It was a mess, as it usually was, clothes strew about, tables messy. For a second Nick could have sword Benji’s mood was playful, but that second passed like a flickering candle.
“It’s coming back to me now… You look familiar; are we related?” shot back Nick, though it was delayed, pauses a little awkward as he struggled to make himself comfortable in his body. Everything hurt, he felt sticky from sweat, his stomach twisted. By the time Benji spoke again Nick knew his playful younger brother was gone, replaced with the aspiring lawyer.
“Dinner…” Nick repeated, taking another swig of water. Yes… the calendar alert… That must have been it. Sober-Nick must have put an alarm on to remind him about it. Sober-Nick was an idiot with too much faith. “How much time do I have?” Nick asked, slowly pushing himself to his feet.
Any motion to get ready was suddenly called to a halt when Nick stared at his forearm. It was covered in gladwrap, something dark pointing down near the inner crease of his elbow. “Huh, I think I got a tattoo…” he mused, scratching his face. An old-fashioned hand holding a dagger. He was taking this rather well, considering. Was he still drunk? Shaking it off, he wandered over to the en suite, half-closed the door while he took care of business.
“What’s the dress code? Formal or formal but with a tux?” he called out from the bathroom.
“Ha ha, Nick. You are hilarious.” A roll of eyes accompanied his words, but inside the walls of his mind, part of him couldn’t help but latch onto his words; couldn’t help but spin them around and genuinely consider them. It was, of course, an undeniable fact that they were brothers — forever bound by blood. Yet more than once, despite their unbreakable bond, Benji had questioned if it was possible for blood brothers to be as different as they were. They were walking contradictions of each other: order and chaos; quiet and loudness; solitude and social. It had to defy the laws of very existence, their parents’ act of creating two individuals as drastically dissimilar as they were.
In response to his question, Benji shrugged. “I believe she asked us to be there at 3.” He answered truthfully. “That leaves you with”—his eyes drifted downward to check the time from his watch—“Two hours if we use public transportation. Two and a half hours if I drive us there.” As he spoke, his voice was uncharacteristically stern, unyielding; but considering his brother’s current state, there was no universe where he would trust Nick with a car.
Speaking of poor decisions and impulsive acts. Benji furrowed his brows, his head tilting, as the older Dalton’s movement came to a sudden halt. His gaze trailed after Nick’s, curiosity and worry battling for dominance inside his head, until the momentary silence was broken. “You got what now?” He asked, eyes widening in shock. Benji inhaled and exhaled, eyes falling closed. “Qu'avez-vous fait?” The boy mumbled absent-mindedly as his brother left the room, leaving him to rub his temples in solitude.
If only the onset of a headache was a visible, tangible thing; perhaps then Nick would grant him a moment of peace. But it was not, so he was left with the intense feeling of regret over not having any painkillers with him. “Come on, Nick, you know it’s just family dinner.” Was he speaking to his older brother or a thoughtless child? “You must have some clean clothes in your closet. Just grab some of those, put them on and then we can go.”
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Me, in tears: whatever tho I guess it doesn’t matter haha
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GOLDMALICE.
when: february 19 2018
where: oakenfold casino
who: open to unaligned humans / unseelie
“Did you get lost?” As he was wont to do, Adare walked up on the person who’d wandered too far into Oakenfold on disturbingly silent footsteps before announcing his presence. “Call it a hunch, but I don’t think you’re allowed back here.”
He thought he had succeeded in being inconspicuous — an assumption proven false as soon as someone spoke to him. “Jesus Christ,” Benji muttered under his breath, his eyes wide, his heart beating wildly in his chest. He inhaled and exhaled—a feeble attempt to gather his composure—before the boy turned, facing the man who had addressed him. “Listen, I’m sorry for whatever I did, but I was only trying to find my friend.” He swallowed an uneasy lump that had formed in his throat. “I swear I wasn’t trying to steal anything.”
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NICKELFOREVERYTIME.
Last night had seemed like a good idea, at the time. Someone had bought a few rounds of drinks, and then a fey friend had offered him a hit of #69… Well who was Nickel to turn down a free sample, even if he only had a hint of the full product? Elixirs mixed with alcohol was never a good idea, neither was staying up until 5 in the morning. Nick had never been good at good ideas.
At midnight he’d remembered a calendar alert popping up on his phone, swiping it off. A few hours prior to Benji’s arrival a flurry of alarms had tried to wake him up. Nick threw his phone across the room. Finally, Benji’s voice came through the apartment, stirring Nick from the depths of sleep. He shot up first, looking around his bed nervously. Good, good there was no awkward one-night stand in his sheets. He could think of nothing worse. Groaning in reply, Nick straightened up in bed, rubbing his hand into his eyes. God, everything hurt…
“Water…” he croaked, swinging his legs off the edge of the bed, fighting down the nausea. He was still wearing boxers; maybe the one-night stand had been imagined. Everything was… fuzzy. “Benji…” he said, the gears creaking to form a question, a conclusion, rusted from misuse and disrepair. “Why are you here?”
The hoarse groan that seemed to come from Nick’s bedroom had Benji release a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. It was a relief to receive some kind of confirmation that his brother was home — now he wouldn’t have to waste time for trying to locate him and coming up with an explanation for his absence from the Daltons’ traditional family dinner. He moved through the apartment in silence; his eyes noticing the signs of what his brother had been up to last night, but not lingering on anything specific. He had seen all of this before, so there was no reason to spend extra time on it.
“That is my name. Good of you to finally remember it.” He quipped, his tone playful, after he pushed open the bedroom door and leaned against the doorframe. Not many got to witness this side of him; the relaxed boy without the burdens of the world on his shoulders. Nick, as his brother, had been more privy to it than most, but even he wasn’t granted the privilege of enjoying it longer than a short moment. Soon enough, his expression smoothed, returning to its permanent state of polite neutrality, revealing nothing of what was going through his mind.
“Mom invited us”—a hint of a smile; she hadn’t invited as much as she had commanded—“For Sunday dinner, remember? I’m here to pick you up.” He reminded calmly. As he spoke, he eyed Nick’s current state — seemed like he had made the right call by showing up earlier. “How much time do you think you need to get ready?”
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DATE & TIME: February 25th; 11:30AM
LOCATION: The Atlas
AVAILABILITY: @nickelforeverytime
He hadn’t reached Nick’s apartment quite yet so he couldn’t say for certain what kind of condition his brother was in. However, as his feet moved forward, steadily leading him toward the right door, a well-educated guess had begun to formulate in his mind. It wasn’t the first time they were playing this same scenario — it had, in fact, turned into a well-rehearsed play where every actor knew their place perfectly. He played the role of the responsible child; Nick played the part of the reckless wild child; their parents portrayed some royals who had summoned the two of them and refusing their orders was not a possibility. He knew what his role entailed: picking up Nick and ensuring no flicker of the chaos within bled through to his appearance.
As the door came to his line of sight, Benji’s hand went his coat’s pocket and searched until his fingers touched the key. He grabbed it and, without knocking, opened the door. He entered the apartment in silence, pulling the door closed behind him as quietly as he could; it was very likely Nick was still sleeping. “Nick?” He asked, falling silent, providing an opportunity for a reply. When he received none, a small, almost inaudible, a sigh escaped from Benji’s lips. “Nick,” he repeated, this time a little louder, “It’s me, Benji. Are you awake?”
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NADIAIVES.
Date & Time: February 21st, around 4pm
Location: Uptown, near The Easton
Availability: Open to all!
It had been a long week. Nadia had to remind herself over and over that it was only Wednesday and still she didn’t quite believe it. At the very least, she could comfort herself with the knowledge that she was almost home and could spend the evening relaxing. A long bubble bath and a cleansing face mask sounded like heaven to her in that moment. “Do you think getting hardcore wine drunk is inappropriate on a Wednesday night?” Nadia mumbled, thinking longingly of the unopened bottle of Bordeaux in her apartment.
Before he could control himself, his brows rose in surprise; but less than a second, his trademark expression of polite indifference had taken over his features. “We all have our own ways to relax.” He offered, running his fingers through his mop of hair. Another cordial, yet neutral answer — he had been spouting those all his life, hadn’t he? “Even if your suggestion isn’t exactly my cup of tea,” Benji forced his lips to tick upward into a small smile, “Who am I to say one way is better than the other?”
#convo.#c: nadia.#d: feb 21.#l: uptown.#( benji may not agree#but 'thinking longingly of the unopened bottle of wine' wHAT A MOOD. )
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Conversation
meme development: feywild
adare: what is the most beautiful thing in the world to you?
garnet: when do you feel like your best isn't enough?
oleander: what book changed your life and why?
cobalt: what wouldn't you do for the one that you love?
ember: have you ever used sex or sensuality to get what you want?
tiger: what memory would you erase if you could?
sorrel: what's your favourite aspect of yourself?
onyx: what's the biggest gamble you've ever taken?
zinnia: what Ordeal test would be hardest for you to survive?
willow: would you hurt someone you love to get your desire?
marigold: what makes you feel truly seen and loved?
jasmine: when have you felt like you just didn't fit in?
hazel: would you risk your life to save a friend?
forest: if you could pick, how would you want to die?
kaitlin: do you see the world through rose-coloured glasses?
david: have you ever given up on a dream?
quinn: would you rather stand out or blend in?
lacha: if you were ruler, would you share power?
camellia: do you have a divisive personality?
malachite: if you could make someone feel your pain, would you?
rowan: is loyalty or self-preservation more important?
raven: what is your relationship to your family like?
gale: what's the hardest secret you've ever had to keep?
larkspur: how do you find connection and meaning in life?
hyacinth: how good are you at the soft strength of persuasion?
peridot: about how long do you hold a grudge?
frost: how would you cope with or handle being betrayed?
aster: what is your character afraid of?
jasper: would you ever join a rebellion?
nickel: what is your character reluctant to tell people?
ivy: do you have any regrets that still linger?
sean: what's something someone else has that you want?
elise: what does your ideal romance look like?
danica: do you let your emotions get the better of you?
nadia: how importance is your appearance to you?
benjamin: are you more likely to pursue justice or ignore the injustice?
tyler: do you have anything you feel addicted to?
isabella: how far would you go to discover the truth?
vance: have you ever done anything heroic?
knox: what changed the way you understood the world?
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GAIRNEAD.
He was the young lad she had met earlier, his name escaping her. Had they even made it that far? Did it matter? Garnet reached under the bar to grab another glass and set it down before pouring, more careful this time now that her thoughts had been somewhat gathered. Slowly she slid the shot across the bar, through the spilled tequila, towards the boy. He was so young, so human. Had he seen the body? Had he seen the blood drain from Eurya? Would he want to talk to the police?
“Yes,” she replied, her voice hoarse before she cleared it. “Yes, I think we have.” She poured herself another, setting the bottle down and not waiting for the boy before she threw the tequila back, focusing on it as it burned her throat. Garnet grimaced at the taste but glad for it all the same. She let silence stretch between them, growing into a chasm for a moment before she remembered who she was. She was Garnet Fairchild, Archfey of Insight, and she wanted to be queen. There was a human child ( because really, he was one compared to her ) sitting before her and suffering.
Should she ask if he was alright? Was that just an empty question? Instead of saying anything, she reached across the bar and lightly touched one of his hands, a silent acknowledgement of the pain they shared.
A tired smile crept across Benji’s lips. It was a pathetic, sad attempt to communicate his gratitude to her. He wasn’t a seasoned partygoer, but he had gone out after his 21st birthday and people had refused to serve him because he, according to them, didn’t look old enough. This woman could’ve done the same, but instead, she agreed to pour him a glass without further questions. Perhaps it was a bit morbid, to feel grateful in a situation like this, but he was glad nevertheless.
He grabbed the glass, intending to raise it to his lips and consume its content in a manner that a shot should, but something prevented him from doing so. His green eyes focused absentmindedly on the swirling of the liquid in the glass, trying to spot a consistent pattern. He wasn’t sure what he hoped to achieve with it — a sense of calm, maybe? Something constant now that the chaos seemed to devour all of them alive. Despite his efforts, it didn’t take long before he realized it was all in vain; there would be no steady pattern, just like there would be no taming of the hurricane people’s grief and anxiety and fear and confusion had instigated.
It was only when Benji felt a hand on his shoulder that he found enough willpower from within to go on instead of being frozen. He lifted the glass and downed it way faster than he normally did. A frown crossed his features as his throat felt the burn, but Benji tried his hardest to conceal his lack of experience with consuming hard liquors. He coughed once before he placed the glass back on the counter. “Thanks again.” Another failed attempt to smile; another successful moment of silence.
“Did you know her?” An impulsive question; yet when he opened his mouth, his voice was anything but harsh, cold and demanding. It was quiet and worn out. “We— we should inform her family. If she had one.”
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OFPERIDOT.
Where: Post-Imbolc, outside Capitale at 1.20am
When: February 2nd
Availability: Open to All
Nothing like a murder to put a damper on things and ruin a party. Eurya’s death was the topic on everyone’s lips, hushed conversations and worried glances - over-dramatic tears and stoic determination. Sometimes, both. Having no intention of joining them - and little patience to listen to the woesome weepers - Peridot ducked out of the building, breath hurling into the night air. It was a starless night. Somehow, that felt appropriate. Reaching into her pocket, Peridot drew out a crumpled packet of cigarettes, holding one at arms length whilst she used her breath to ignite it, a concentrated flame. Tingling at the rush of power, she held the cylinder to her lips, drawing deep. “Well shit.” Her eyes caught the outline of a lingering silhouette, their identity masked by shadows. She exhaled. “Looks like we got ourselves a real life game of Cluedo.”
He had come outside to calm his nerves which, despite the facade of coolness he presented to the world, were running and spinning around like The Flash. Unfortunately for him, the world had other plans for Benji. That was why he found himself standing near a woman — only to immediately wish he was anywhere else. Looks like we got ourselves a real life game of Cluedo. He didn’t know her, but that sentence alone was enough to create a spark of distaste within him. Her casual tone, her indifference toward the fact that someone had just been cruelly murdered, rubbed him the wrong way; he had absolutely no desire to speak to her. It was moments like this when he resented his upbringing for making him a master of continuing conversations he didn’t actually wish to have.
“I suppose we do.” Benji murmured, more to himself than to her, before he leaned against a wall, eyes falling closed. “Do you have any idea who might have done it?” He wasn’t sure why he asked; there had been so many guests that the likelihood of this woman knowing the victim was not high — a fact supported by her nonchalant demeanour.
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DAVEYVENTURA.
When: February 1st, around 2 am
Where: Capitale
Who: @jjudicium
As much as Forest had helped calm him down, Davey couldn’t be here any longer. In fact, the more he thought about how many people were still milling about after someone died, the sicker he felt. Everyone grieved in their own way. Plenty of people had jobs to do in cleaning things up and trying to figure out what happened. But Davey didn’t, and he couldn’t stand the thought of being near that body a second longer. He was on his way to the exit when his eyes caught on a familiar face.
Benji. Why was he still here? And where was Nicky? Shouldn’t his brother have been his first priority? There was the brief, morbid thought that perhaps Nicky was too busy cleaning up the mess his side had just created – but Davey shoved it aside and made a detour in the younger man’s direction. “Benj,” Davey greeted him softly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. If any part of him had wondered if Benji was just as entrenched with the fey as Nickel, seeing the kid look so scared and unsure and alone was enough to make him question that logic, if not discard it entirely. Either way, he couldn’t let Benji stay here. This wasn’t the place for a kid like him. This wasn’t the place for any human. Davey steered him gently toward the exit. “C’mon, man, let’s get outta here. I’ll walk ya home. Or we can go get a coffee or somethin’.”
How much time exactly had passed since the shrill cry had stolen the attention of all partygoers? How much time exactly had passed since the horrifying discovery of the murdered woman? Benji couldn’t say for sure. Prior to the discovery, he had been enjoying himself too much to monitor the passing of time; afterward, with that all-encompassing numbness taking over, it hadn’t even crossed his mind. For all he knew, he could’ve been sitting at the bar for seconds, minutes or hours — he wouldn’t have noticed the difference.
A soft touch, however, pulled him up from beneath the waves. Normally he would’ve been startled, especially since only a handful of people knew him at this party, but now he had no energy for such reactions. When his brain registered it was Davey who had approached him, his lips made an attempt at curling up into a smile. “Hey Davey.” Benji greeted and what a battle it was, to hold on to that ghost of a smile. It didn’t even occur to him that perhaps he had crossed some unspoken line by using the other male’s nickname. Was he still allowed to do that?
Benji nodded once and followed Davey silently as they headed toward the exit. “I don’t live far away.” He explained, gesturing toward where he thought his apartment building was. “Just like a... half a mile, I think.” A chill ran down his spine at the thought of going home. He wasn’t sure where Tyler was. He wasn’t sure where Nicky was. He was a creature of solitude, yes, but somehow the idea of being completely alone was unappealing. “But coffee sounds good to me,” He agreed as their feet began to them somewhere, toward the nearest coffee shop that was still open at this hour of the night. “Nothing like”—a brief glance at his watch—“A quad grande latte at 2:15, am I right?” He chuckled, but it was a hollow, humorless sound. A sigh escaped from Benji’s lips. “What’s your go-to order?”
#convo.#c: davey.#d: feb 2.#l: the capitale.#e: imbolc (pt2).#me: *tries to write a reply*#me: *gets distracted by posey's beautiful face*#:lll
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GAIRNEAD.
when: after midnight, february 2nd 2018
where: capitale (inside, the bar)
who: anyone
Garnet had seen close to three hundred games of fidchell being played out in front of her. Human blood had stained the soles of her shoes as it leaked off the board more times than she could count. And she hadn’t had cared. But this was different. This was one of her own, with nails in her eyes, dead on a holy day. Chaos surrounded her but shock had her completely still and silent. Until it was starting to leave her, her psychological comfort blanket falling from her shoulders and leaving a tremor in her hands. Not wanting anyone to see, Garnet turned on her heel, the grace she had worn all evening gone, and marched to the now unattended bar. She went behind it ( did anyone care at this point? ), pulled out a shot glass and grabbed the neck of a bottle of tequila. She poured the alcohol, missing most of the glass and spilling it onto the wood thanks to the shake that was growing worse and worse. She lifted the shot to her lips, swallowing, glad for the burn that brought her back to her body. With her nerves soothed, she finally registered the company she had. “Would you like one too?” She asked, fear shaking her voice, as she lifted the bottle and waved it slightly.
Psychology hadn’t been his major when he had pursued his undergraduate degree, but he was well-versed enough to know what was happening inside his head. Just minutes ago, he had been shocked, unable to believe anything even if concrete proof had quite literally lain before his eyes, incapable of looking away. Now, the feeling of numbness had begun to seep into his bones — his mind’s way of buffering the pain. Because of this blanket, Benji had been able to tear his gaze away from the body and leave the chaos somewhat behind. He found himself sitting at the empty bar.
Well, mostly empty.
He watched in silence, behind his emotionless mask, as the woman ( he had exchanged a word or two with her earlier, hadn’t he? ) came and poured herself a shot. The spilled alcohol had no effect on him; yes, it reached and ruined a part of his sleeve, but the thought of complaining about it didn’t even cross his mind. “Sure, go ahead.” He muttered and turned his attention back to his hands. ��And pour yourself another,” Benji added suddenly, though he still didn’t look at her. “I think we’ve deserved it.”
#convo.#c: garnet.#d: feb 2.#l: the capitale.#e: imbolc (pt2).#( i hope it's cool i replied to this!! )
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