the pink corner of her lips upturned into a thoughtful smirk-smile. she knows that there's plenty of things unsaid behind 'it's going'. how many times had she thrown that out there as a response? "you're all good," roselle says. leaning forward, she shifts her book to one hand and outstretches the other. "my name's roselle. you can sit here if you need too. it's pretty quiet."
benjamin takes her hand in greeting, adding a well-practiced polite smile. then as she invited him to sit, he did; figuring anything else would be impolite. it was a much welcome refuge from the bustling crowds, anyway. "thank you." he felt the need to contribute to the conversation somehow, eyes moving to the book in her hand. "what are you reading?"
he wasn't bad with people per se, really. he could more than comfortably get through small talk and mingling. he had to, it was a daily part of his job at the museum: showing people around, answering questions, giving tours. he just didn't necessarily seek it out. which was why his presence at the flower dance came to a surprise to many, mostly so to himself.
the first dart he threw at landed near the edge of the board. the second a little closer, and the third even more so. he was admittedly better with a sword. "i have a feeling you're gonna win," he stated as he walked up to the board to retrieve the darts for his opponent. he held them out, a smile adding to his calm demeanour. "what was the bet again?"
It was difficult but Birdie resisted the urge to wave her hand dismissively, instead she scrunched her face up slightly before mumbling a quick, “Thanks.” To her, they were not much of anything, more like snippets of a journal, not like some of the pieces she had on large canvasses at home. “They’re not that special, really, but you’re very sweet for flattering me like that.” She smiled up at him again, it was a welcome change of pace to see him outside of the museum in a relaxed environment, “Not to change the subject but you didn’t strike me as much of a festival person - though, I am enjoying the outfit.”
"well i like them either way," benji insisted before deciding to drop the subject, not wanting to make her uncomfortable. he looked down at his outfit as she mentioned it, a small sheepish smile tugging at the corners of his lips. she was correct in her assumption of his festival tendencies. "thanks. i, uh-..." he looked back up at her, meeting her gaze. "i'm really not." he shrugged. "but they say you can't miss it, so... here i am."
even though she can't swim, there's something incredibly magical about the beach. the water is the perfect temperature, the sand is glistening, and there's still a couple weeks before she has to return to her classroom, to set it up for another school year. for the moment, life is peaceful and serene. she looks up briefly from her book just to take in the scenery. when she catches someone's eye, roselle gives them a smile. "hey, how's it going?"
benjamin hadn't intended to disrupt, he was only trying to find a spot slightly more secluded. the crowd of people had become overwhelming and he needed to distance himself for a short while before he could power through the rest of the dance. "it's... going," he replied with a sheepish smile. he wasn't bad with people necessarily, and he wasn't having a bad time. it just drained him a little. "i didn't mean to interrupt your reading."
Birdie chuckled as she dusted off the sand from her dress, amused that he’d gone straight for lying to make her feel better about being tripped by a pixie, “Well, there are worse people to watch me get taken out like that I suppose.” She shook out her sketchbook and smiled warmly as he handed her back the pencil, “Perfect, thank you.” She flipped through her sketchbook, back to the page she had been working on, thankful to see that the drawings hadn’t been too badly affected by her losing control of the pencil. “These? Just some little sketches of…everything, I guess.” She shrugged a little and turned the book around to show him, “there’s always a lot to see at these events and what kind of artist would I be if I didn’t document it?”
"i suppose," benji agreed, his cover clearly blown. though he couldn't think of many people in thistleberry who would give someone a hard time for tripping. he tilted his head as she flipped through her book, curious as always to see what she had been working on. though in all honesty, he wouldn't have to even see it to know it was good. he'd seen her previous work enough times to be familiar with the talent she possessed. as she showed him, his smile grew. "some little sketches, huh? looks amazing, as always."
benjamin had considered staying home as he wasn't the most sociable person, but then his love for this town drew him out nonetheless. now, after doing a double take to ensure he wasn't unknowingly mid heat stroke and imagining things, he regretted this decision. in fact, regret washed over him like a tidal wave, nearly knocking him off his feet. it made his heart beat faster, made his hands tremble. memories that he had worked long and hard to suppress came flooding back. overwhelmed, he froze in place as he frantically considered his options.
he could sneak away before he was noticed. this would be his most likely course of action, considering his character. he could go up to the man and attempt a conversation. he wanted to, but merely the thought also made him lightheaded. his first step should be turning away to avoid their eyes meeting, but as he'd taken too long to think about it, it was now too late.
It wasn’t long before Birdie had decided to tie the laces of her boots together so that they could hang from the small satchel she’d slung over her shoulder. Now, with her toes sinking into the sand she was happily standing at the edge of the festivities with her sketchbook open and pencil moving. There were a couple of drawings of hands being held, of some of the stalls she could see, and of the pixies and weevils she’d spotted hiding in various places. She was so engrossed in her drawings that she didn’t notice the pixie hovering near her feet, waiting for the perfect opportunity to trip her, not until it was too late. Her sketchbook landed first, the pencil bouncing off of it and into the sand, before Birdie hit the ground next to it. When she’d spotted the tiny culprit she hissed an old, magic word at it and watched as it was thrown across the beach with a squeak. “stupid little thing.” She hissed as she got back up, dusting herself off and shaking the sand from her sketchbook, but as she turned to make sure she was alone she made eye contact with someone, “I’m really hoping you didn’t just see that, I probably looked like an idiot.”
benjamin saw the pixie. he'd been eyeing them all day, and also skilfully avoiding kyle as to not have to join in on doing anything about them. he sort of regretted it though, upon seeing the pixie that caused her fall. he did not want to further her embarrassment, so instead of admitting that he had seen her tumble, he opted for the alternative: lying. he wasn't one to wallow in the misfortune of others. "see what?" he offered along with a polite smile, ready to change the subject before they even touched on it. he bent down to pick up the pencil from where it had landed in the sand and held it out for her to take. "what were you drawing?"
dressing up was not on his radar as that would mean he normally dressed down, and this was not the case. however, for the sake of the flower dance, he opted for a more casual ensemble. a vintage polo shirt, black slacks, and matching shoes and a cap that he'd embroidered himself.
he was not attending the dance with flowers in hand, nor did he expect to receive any. he wasn't even that keen on socialising. he was simply going because, well... he'd been told you have to, and he had always been the type of person to abide by rules. even the unwritten kind.
finding the beauty in ordinary things. overflowing bookshelves. chipped nail polish. broken clocks. patchwork tattoos. burying yourself in your work. black and white photos. a pile of well read books. finished cups of coffee cluttering your desk. post-it notes with illegible handwriting. speaking only when spoken to. a heart that bleeds too easily. keeping your past with you wherever you go.
full name: Â benjamin wright
nickname(s): Â ben, benji
age: Â twenty-nine
star sign:Â Â virgo
alignment: lawful neutral
gender:Â cis-male
pronouns:Â Â he/him
sexual orientation:Â Â pansexual
species:Â Â human
occupation:Â museum curator, guild member
biography
(cw: abandonment, mention of death)
benjamin's mother did not have an easy life. she had never intended to become pregnant, because she knew she would not be able to handle it. she could not afford a child, and she knew herself to be in a position where she could barely take care of herself. this is why she gives him away. it was not an easy decision, but a necessary one. it happens like a scene out of a movie - left on the doorstep of a caring couple who wouldn't dare to turn him away, benjamin finds his new family.
as soon as he's old enough, benji finds himself toddling along his father, following him to work at the museum. he spends hours at a time, sorting through and arranging knickknacks deemed non-valuable enough that they may be handled by the curious hands of a child. this becomes his life. the second school is done for the day, he takes a bus to the museum. where his friends spends their weekends getting up to shenanigans, benji spends it aiding his father in research, sorting, even dusting shelves only to have a reason to be in his presence.
when his father passes, no one has to consider any other option than benjamin being the one to take over. he is by far the most qualified for the position, knowing his father's work inside out and in greater detail than anyone else ever could. the natural progression is for benji to move to thistleberry to be closer to his father's legacy.
other
takes his work home with him
gets most of his workouts from fighting in the caves but also enjoys the occasional run around town
flippin LOVES to knit so we're all getting sweaters for christmas
is becoming more obsessed about his past each and every day that passes
still a work in progress but i love him :-) here u go
