[ Every time he comes home, Benedict tries to look at Lancaster House from the eyes of an outsider: that corridor isn't the long stretch of carpeting he and his cousins practiced racing each other on, it's an imposing long walk flanked by oil portraits of his ancestors; the huge oaken bannisters aren't the perfect side to slip down, whooping and hollering, when you're eight years old, it's cut purposefully too large to hold on to so you're forced to pay attention as you hold it; the marble busts tucked into alcoves aren't faces he'd mimic but instead the severe countenances of nobility from centuries ago.
It's hard, though. His childhood was a happy one, and he has many fond memories of this place. Even though being home chafes a little bit more now that he is an adult and has adult responsibilities and expectations, he still can't quite erase the rosy tint of his memories.
Even most of the staff are familiar to him, if a bit grayer around the edges and a little creakier in their movements.
He's in the middle of chuffing a little laugh at Kate's comment about Reggie when they're interrupted by a waiter appearing at their elbow to exchange their drinks. She's clearly embarrassed at being caught out making snide comments but he just grins at her, this is what he'd asked her along for, after all. After thanking the waiter — a warm Lovely to see you again, Master Sorellin, met with an equally friendly You as well, Walter, thank you, — he tugs Kate a little closer to his side and slips his arm around her again, making it easier for them to whisper sotto voce to each other and also giving her a little more support as his aunt steadily makes her way through the room.
Benedict is a closer blood-relation to her than most of the other guests gathered, but it would still be rude to ignore those who appeared before him to greet him first. He knows he'll have to wait his turn like everyone else.
Ducking his head a little closer to hers, Benedict glances over at the Asters and smirks. ]
Less than, probably. Reggie has an entirely overblown sense of his own abilities. He'll go in guns blazing right from the start. Barnabas might take a little more time to figure you out before he fully commits. He's not much of a fighter, though.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2021-10-13 03:26 pm (UTC)It's hard, though. His childhood was a happy one, and he has many fond memories of this place. Even though being home chafes a little bit more now that he is an adult and has adult responsibilities and expectations, he still can't quite erase the rosy tint of his memories.
Even most of the staff are familiar to him, if a bit grayer around the edges and a little creakier in their movements.
He's in the middle of chuffing a little laugh at Kate's comment about Reggie when they're interrupted by a waiter appearing at their elbow to exchange their drinks. She's clearly embarrassed at being caught out making snide comments but he just grins at her, this is what he'd asked her along for, after all. After thanking the waiter — a warm Lovely to see you again, Master Sorellin, met with an equally friendly You as well, Walter, thank you, — he tugs Kate a little closer to his side and slips his arm around her again, making it easier for them to whisper sotto voce to each other and also giving her a little more support as his aunt steadily makes her way through the room.
Benedict is a closer blood-relation to her than most of the other guests gathered, but it would still be rude to ignore those who appeared before him to greet him first. He knows he'll have to wait his turn like everyone else.
Ducking his head a little closer to hers, Benedict glances over at the Asters and smirks. ]
Less than, probably. Reggie has an entirely overblown sense of his own abilities. He'll go in guns blazing right from the start. Barnabas might take a little more time to figure you out before he fully commits. He's not much of a fighter, though.