[ Benedict's never seen this much snow at once. Certainly in London they get a bit of a snowfall, but it never really stays, nor does it come in such an abundance. The chill, though, is regrettably, familiar. For as beautiful and warm as the summers have been, the winter had been both abysmally frigid and wet (enough that the Thames had even decided to freeze over), and what's mostly alarming to Benedict is that all of that crossed his mind before realizing that - he's standing in the middle of a snowy forest.
It must be some vivid dream. The chill cuts right through his finely tailor coat and trousers, and his boots are hardly insulated enough. He thinks, at least, they have a certain degree of water-proofing, which might be about the only positive thing. Crossing his arms to hold in whatever warmth he might have, he starts walking.
After all, dreams usually have a way of getting a person where they need to go, eventually he'll wake up.
And that logic works perfectly well because he comes out on the edge of a town, but if he thought the bizarre weather was strange, then the sight he's greeted with in the town proper is something else all together. He's never seen homes like this, and, for as chilled as he is, he can't quite help but just stand there and gawk a bit. ]
✦ ii. bodies without souls
[ Benedict Books.
Maybe there's something silly about it, but Benedict finds that he can't not go to a shop bearing his name. It makes him feel a bit like a child if he thinks about it, but he thinks anyone would do it. Besides, there appear to maybe be people inside? At least, Benedict's sure he seen figures beyond the glass, and drawing closer he can hear a sort of tapping. It's like someone beckoning him inside.
So he goes.
A bookshop isn't new to him by any means, but by now he's realized that nothing about this town is the way he's used to things being. As he wanders the shelves, he sees a familiar title every now and then, but the vast majority of literature is unknown to him. He picks up a book and has a cursory read, and his nose crinkles.
It's not his cup of tea. ]
✦ iii. the end approaches
[ The feeling Benedict gets as he looks over the bulletin board is one of uneasiness. Granted, the whole town fills him with uneasiness, but the messages pinned up on the board are grim and foreboding.
People missing. Cryptic messages. Odd symbols.
Benedict can't make heads or tails of it all. He's not sure if he's meant to, honestly, and he doesn't even know where he might begin. Lips pressed together, he decides it's better not to - and as for that rather ominous note regarding "he", well, Benedict's just ignoring that all together for now.
He turns away from the board, hands going to his hips.
This is just fine, isn't it? ]
✦ iv. wildcard
Choose your own adventure, anything is on the table. Feel free to do your own thing or hit me up at blackspire.
Benedict Bridgerton ✦ Bridgerton
[ Benedict's never seen this much snow at once. Certainly in London they get a bit of a snowfall, but it never really stays, nor does it come in such an abundance. The chill, though, is regrettably, familiar. For as beautiful and warm as the summers have been, the winter had been both abysmally frigid and wet (enough that the Thames had even decided to freeze over), and what's mostly alarming to Benedict is that all of that crossed his mind before realizing that - he's standing in the middle of a snowy forest.
It must be some vivid dream. The chill cuts right through his finely tailor coat and trousers, and his boots are hardly insulated enough. He thinks, at least, they have a certain degree of water-proofing, which might be about the only positive thing. Crossing his arms to hold in whatever warmth he might have, he starts walking.
After all, dreams usually have a way of getting a person where they need to go, eventually he'll wake up.
And that logic works perfectly well because he comes out on the edge of a town, but if he thought the bizarre weather was strange, then the sight he's greeted with in the town proper is something else all together. He's never seen homes like this, and, for as chilled as he is, he can't quite help but just stand there and gawk a bit. ]
✦ ii. bodies without souls
[ Benedict Books.
Maybe there's something silly about it, but Benedict finds that he can't not go to a shop bearing his name. It makes him feel a bit like a child if he thinks about it, but he thinks anyone would do it. Besides, there appear to maybe be people inside? At least, Benedict's sure he seen figures beyond the glass, and drawing closer he can hear a sort of tapping. It's like someone beckoning him inside.
So he goes.
A bookshop isn't new to him by any means, but by now he's realized that nothing about this town is the way he's used to things being. As he wanders the shelves, he sees a familiar title every now and then, but the vast majority of literature is unknown to him. He picks up a book and has a cursory read, and his nose crinkles.
It's not his cup of tea. ]
✦ iii. the end approaches
[ The feeling Benedict gets as he looks over the bulletin board is one of uneasiness. Granted, the whole town fills him with uneasiness, but the messages pinned up on the board are grim and foreboding.
People missing. Cryptic messages. Odd symbols.
Benedict can't make heads or tails of it all. He's not sure if he's meant to, honestly, and he doesn't even know where he might begin. Lips pressed together, he decides it's better not to - and as for that rather ominous note regarding "he", well, Benedict's just ignoring that all together for now.
He turns away from the board, hands going to his hips.
This is just fine, isn't it? ]
✦ iv. wildcard
Choose your own adventure, anything is on the table. Feel free to do your own thing or hit me up at