Never Ben Better

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

They say that some could not take criticism well, but Benedict Bridgerton was the opposite. He could not take compliments well. Henry said that it looked good, and gave him some pointers to help but Benedict was dissatisfied. A common feeling for the second Bridgerton son. He knew he could be grateful that he had such a place, such an environment to freely sketchy and hone in whatever skills he hoped to possess. But Benedict merely wished he was worthy of it. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Henry had an easel for him, he encouraged him . . . and Benedict did nothing to earn the support nor praise. Perhaps, one day. All he could do was keep trying. And remain grateful that he had an ally in this field. A very skilled, talented ally indeed. Taking the last sip of his drink, Benedict knew that he would need more should he wish to continue, so he stepped outside of the room designated for those such as himself along with the models, and made his way to where refreshments were set. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ Filling his cup, he glanced around, taking in the sight of all the other freedoms that people enjoyed in the walls of this house. The crowd was a big one however, and people brushed against one another . . . which prompted Benedict to sway in his stance and in turn, bump into someone else behind him. He instinctively held out his cup of drink to the side to ensure it did not spill on either of them. "My apologies," he quickly stated, pausing when his eyes laid sight to the man. He looked familiar, though Benedict did not recall formally meeting him. Never the less, the apology stood. Tag Connor Morrison Note: Better layout coming soon!

                        the rules of society.

[Connor Morrison]

Tag: Benedict Bridgerton             Thread: Never Ben Better               Notes: N/A London. For all its fog and its clamour, Connor adored the city. Edinburgh had an old world sort of charm, and it certainly boasted its own fair share of entertainment, but it lacked the sheer excitement of London; the city practically had a pulse of its own, beating on through a thousand veins and arteries, unceasingly thrumming from the earliest hours of the morning to the blackest pinnacle of night. There was never a shortage of things to do, never a shortage of events to attend, and, above all, never a shortage of people to meet.  Connor could not precisely recall when he had first been introduced to Henry Granville. Some party or another, either the last time he had been to London or perhaps the time before that. The artist had a marvellous knack for sniffing out the sort of men and women who would enjoy his sort of parties more than the high society balls that the rest of the ton swirled through. From the first visit, Connor had been intoxicated. When he found himself back down in London for a whole season, therefore, he had wasted little time in seeking the artist's house out once more.  It had not taken long for the place's haze to lull him into a pleasant, drunken sort of stupor. How much he had drunk — or smoked — he couldn't say; he was lucid enough to take note of what was going on around him, in a vague sort of way, but not quite lucid enough to care much about propriety. Like the majority of the men (and, frankly, women) in this household, he was in a state of half undress, having divested himself of his jacket and waistcoat. When the sudden bump of a shoulder against his startled him from his haze, he might have paid the man little attention, but a sense of familiarity struck him. For a moment, he stared, trying to figure out precisely who the man was and how he might know him; then, with a lopsided grin of triumph, he lifted the hand holding his brandy to raise an index finger in Benedict's direction. "Bridgerton, isn't it? By God, I did not expect to see a Bridgerton at a place like this."

credit to Laura of Adox

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Ordinarily Benedict might have been concerned that he'd been . . . recognized. As a Bridgerton, it did not take much. But to be recognized in a place like this could have severe consequences. However, Benedict was not too concrned about this. For there seemed to be a mutual . . . understanding among everyone. That this was a place that only those who knew about, experienced. Together. And that what happened within these walls, stayed that way. Besides, if one was exposed there was threat of them all being exposed and where was the good in that? ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ So Benedict smiled at the man's greeting of sorts, and surprise upon seeing him here. He too looked familiar, and his mind searched for his name, having to trust his instinct. "Lord Morrison." Oh how he hoped that was it . . . then again, perhaps the man was too drunk to notice of Benedict would have gotten his name wrong. That would certainly help alleviate the stress of uncertainty. "That makes two of us," he said teasingly, playing along with the man. "Hopefully it is not too, unwelcome of a surprise," he added on, trying to gage how Morrison felt about his presence here. Tag Connor Morrison Note: Better layout coming soon!

                        the rules of society.

[Connor Morrison]

Tag: Benedict Bridgerton             Thread: Never Ben Better               Notes: N/A Benedict Bridgerton, of all men, here, of all places. Like anyone in the city who had spent their share of time in the social season, Connor was well practiced at faking surprise in most situations. After the fiftieth time one had to hear about Lord Something-Or-Other's secret affair with Duchess Who-Gives-A-Rip, it became rather difficult to summon up any actual interest. It was rare that something truly surprising ever happened in London's social circles, but this certainly fit the bill. Most sons of wealthy families liked to rebel — Connor was more than familiar with that — but it was generally in the same old boring ways, in gambling dens and drinking hovels. For a Bridgerton to end up at the sort of party hosted by Sir Granville was not something Connor would have expected.  With the lopsided grin still firmly lodged on his countenance, the surgeon leaned aside to brace his free arm against the wall and studied Benedict for a moment. He had come from the room generally dedicated to models for artistic study; that, coupled with the charcoal staining the young man's fingers, suggested he had been engaged in drawing. That was not so unusual — most people who came here liked to try their hands at a sketch or two, if only for the excuse to gawk openly at the model's bare breasts. Whether the Bridgerton fellow had a genuine interest in art or merely a genuine interest in the models, Connor could not rightly guess. He brought the glass of brandy back to his lips, took a brief swallow, then said, "Unwelcome? No. If you are a guest of Sir Granville's, I would wager you are more worth knowing than most of the ton." He jerked his head to the side. "Come and sit with me a moment, if you are not otherwise engaged."

credit to Laura of Adox

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

There was something to be said about seeing this side of nobleman and the like. Morrison's state was a perfect example of that. Dressed in a more casual nature, his demeanor relaxed -- or drunk -- either way Benedict held no judgment. It was truly, refreshing to see others simply . . . be. Without the rigidity of having to appear in a perfect stance. Nor the need for caution to guard what one said. It was so liberating to be in such an environment. It was after all, what brought the second Bridgerton son back. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ He could find no better place to creatively express himself than such a setting . . . free of expectation. Benedict continued to smile at the man's words, giving a small nod of appreciation. "Let us hope that opinion does not change by the end of the night," he said jokingly. Truth was, Benedict could not quite take the compliment; it was far easier to play it off and hope did nothing to offend the man before him. At the invitation to sit with him . . . well, Benedict saw no reason to object. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ That was the other rather glorious part about being here: one accepted such an invitation because they wanted to, not out of any social obligation. Taking a sip of his drink his smile returned. "Nothing of great importance." The words once again ones of jest . . . nothing here held the same importance as other societal duties. "That is, if we are able to find place to sit," Benedict said with a slight chuckle as he looked around. People filled the halls, the stairs . . . and the last time he had made way into a room he believed could be vacant, he had walked in on Henry with his lover. He did not want to make that mistake again! Tag Connor Morrison Note: Better layout coming soon!

                        the rules of society.

[Connor Morrison]

Tag: Benedict Bridgerton             Thread: Never Ben Better               Notes: N/A Even in this place, there was a certain sort of naïveté about the Bridgerton boy. He could not have attended many events like this — Connor would wager it was not his first, given the extent to which he had let himself relax, but there was still a hint of that wide-eyed awe about him. The young fellow was green enough that he still seemed delighted at his own daring. It was almost endearing, really; Connor supposed that he had once been like that, years ago. Most men and women who chose to subvert society's rules in secret had gone through a similar phase, he was sure. When one had been raised to follow a rigid set of expectations, it was always a bit of a rush the first time one began skirting those expectations.  Languidly, the surgeon pushed off from his half-reclining position against the wall. He paused, briefly, to pick up a decanter to refill both his glass of brandy and Benedict's; then, with his own drink in hand, he motioned towards the back hallway. "The Granvilles keep a fine back garden," he said, "and I am rather in the mood for a bit of fresh air. As long as we avoid the hedges, I'm sure we can avoid disturbing any of the other guests."

credit to Laura of Adox

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict gave a small nod. "A welcome idea," he agree, watching Morrison fill his glass before they both weaved their way through the crowd and made their way out into the fresh air. Perhaps that too would serve Benedict well to clear his mind; stepping away from the easel for a short time rather than allowing the frustrations to continue to build. The night was a pleasant one, a cool breeze offering a refreshing sensation rather than a discomfort. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ There weren't many others out here which suited Benedict just as well. Those who were . . . may be out here for more, private affairs and Benedict was still getting used to laying witness to so much happening around him; such public displays of affection. Taking notice of a bench not too far, Benedict motioned towards it whilst looking at Morrison. Depending on how drunk the man was, he may also benefit from not only fresh air, but a seated position. "So how long have you been attending such, events?" Benedict asked curiously, wondering how long the man had known Granville and this side of society. Benedict still felt in awe; considering his own self naive for not knowing or believing such a place could exist. Tag Connor Morrison Note: Better layout coming soon!

                        the rules of society.

[Connor Morrison]

Tag: Benedict Bridgerton             Thread: Never Ben Better               Notes: N/A As the cool night air hit Connor's skin, he paused a moment on the back steps to drink the sensation in with a long, satisfied exhale. He never quite realised just how stuffy it tended to get inside these parties until he stepped out of them; with so many candles lit and so many men and women milling about, the place was often a veritable furnace, especially in the height of the summer months. The comfort of the alcohol and the haziness of the whole evening had kept him from consciously noting the heat, but the breeze was just as pleasant all the same.  He lingered no more than a second or two on the steps to enjoy the feeling before continuing on, following Benedict to the ornate bench. He was pleased to see that the garden was relatively empty; he certainly did not mind the busy atmosphere indoors, but it was hardly conducive to actual conversation. Besides, he should not have liked to stumble upon any couples making the most of the hedges.  Careful not to spill any of his brandy, the Scotsman dropped down beside Benedict and slung one leg over the armrest of the bench. Taking a moment to consider the question, he pursed his lips, then shrugged. "God, two years, at least. I reside normally in Edinburgh, so I only come by when I have occasion to be in London. Shame, really."

credit to Laura of Adox

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Once Connor sat, he then answered his question and . . . wow! 2 years. Benedict knew that parties such as this must have existed for quite some time, but it sounded rather incredible . . . to be able to attend for 2 years. The second Bridgerton son did not know if he would be met with such fortune, but he longed for it. To be able to experience this liberating feeling for that long. To have an escape from society for that long. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ He dare not dream of such things. All he could do was enjoy it in this current moment, while it did last. "You have known Mr. Granville for some time then," he said, the statement obvious but also a unspoken question of how he and Henry had crossed paths. He had not seen the man in the artists room. So he couldn't help but wonder how it had come to be for him. Henry certainly was an excellent judge of character in regards to those who may be interested in these sorts of parties. Tag Connor Morrison Note: Better layout coming soon!

                        the rules of society.

[Connor Morrison]

Tag: Benedict Bridgerton             Thread: Never Ben Better               Notes: N/A Connor had expected questions, naturally. These sort of parties bred curiosity — everyone here knew that everyone else had been invited by someone here, be it Granville himself or one of the other guests, and that involved a bit of a delicacy. One wrong invite could result in the ruining of every attendee's reputation. The question uppermost in nearly everyone's minds, Connor suspected, was the same one: what was it about their fellow partygoers that had marked them as trustworthy enough to earn an invitation to a place like this? He could have answered Benedict's questions straightforwardly, one by one, and interspersed with those answers with questions of his own. That, however, sounded dreadfully like half a dozen conversations he'd already had tonight.  There were ways to make the conversation a little more interesting.  The lopsided grin from earlier worked its way back onto his lips. He regarded Benedict in silence for a moment, trying to gauge whether the risk was worth the gamble, then decided in favour of it. "I have a proposal, Mr. Bridgerton." He swilled the brandy in his glass, took a small sip, then let the glass come to rest on his knee. "There is a game that the lads and I used to play when we were students. It doesn't have a name, really, but it goes this way. Instead of asking me a question, you make an assumption — could be anything you want. If you're right, I drink. If you're wrong, you drink. Then I have a turn to make an assumption, with the same rules." He raised an eyebrow. "Simple enough, mm? Man enough to play?"

credit to Laura of Adox

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Something about the way that the man smiled in response to his question . . . gave Benedict the feeling that the answer was not a simple one. If he would indeed answer it. And there it was; a proposal. Had Benedict been any more of a wary fellow, he would have immediately declined. But fortunately, Benedict's personality was not as such. After all if it were, he would not be at this kind of party. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ He was instead intrigued, knowing it could not be that bad. And as he listened to the instructions of it . . . the intrigue continued to build. After a brief silence, more so considering what kinds of assumptions could be made rather than hesitation in the acceptance of the game, Benedict finally responded. "I always enjoy a good game," he stated, his way of accepting the terms of the game. It was not one he had heard of before, but it could indeed be interesting and bring forth some other undisclosed subjects. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "Let us make attempt to do this," he added on, resisting another sip of his drink as he decided to keep it for this . . . assumption game. "Perhaps you can start," he offered, since it was his suggestion. Benedict found he was almost even bracing himself . . . curious to see just how deep this could go. Fortunately, he was not an easily offended man and something told him neither was Connor if he suggested playing such a thing. Tag Connor Morrison Note: Better layout coming soon!

                        the rules of society.

[Connor Morrison]

Tag: Benedict Bridgerton             Thread: Never Ben Better               Notes: N/A Connor had wagered that it would be a 50 / 50 split on the likelihood of Benedict turning down the invitation or accepting it. The man clearly had more daring than the majority of his social peers — he wouldn't be here at a party like this, after all, if he didn't — but the man still seemed rather green, and a game like this was not particularly for the faint of heart. Drinking games themselves could be daunting enough, but a young man who hadn't learned to hold his liquor by his twenties was not a man who would survive a London season. What frightened most people off from this game, in particular, was the twofold fear of learning what assumptions one's companion might make and what assumptions one would then have to confirm.  As the Bridgerton boy hesitated, Connor watched with an eyebrow still raised. For a moment or two, he was sure that Benedict was going to turn the offer down — but then, at last, he gave in, and Connor's grin widened into a full-on beam of wolfish delight. He reached a hand out to slap Benedict's shoulder hard.  "There's a good lad! I knew you would have the stomach for it." Leaning back again to lounge against the arm of the bench, he took a moment to study Benedict in order to firm his first assumption. The younger man's demeanour, above all, was what intrigued him most — he was comfortable enough to let loose a little, but he had still not rid himself of that look of childish wonder. "I assume," the Scotsman said finally, "that this is not your first time at one of Granville's parties, but that you've attended less than... mm, five? Second or third time, perhaps?"

credit to Laura of Adox

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict let out a slight chuckle when Connor hit him on the shoulder in response to his acceptance. Benedict doubted he would regret it . . . yet he was still rather curious as to what could be revealed during such a game. He also knew that the details of the answer to an assumption did not need to be divulged. Mentally preparing though still composed and calm, the first assumption was revealed. Benedict grinned with amusement, knowing it was nothing to be offended by. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "Well assumed. Is it that obvious?" He teasingly asked before taking a drink. Though out of good nature, he offered a detailed response, not that he held Connor in any expectations or pressures to do the same should he not wish to. "It is my third," he admitted. And hopefully not his last. Thinking it over a moment he tried to think of an assumption he could make about the man. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "You've been able to outdrink most those you've played this game with." Something about him and the confidence he held . . . plus, whatever brief background he knew of the man and where he came from. And the ease that he even proposed this game. Well, if he played this with many Londoners, then Benedict felt it fair to assume that he was able to go a lot longer than many others. Perhaps him included, even though they had just started. Tag Connor Morrison Note: Better layout coming soon!

                        the rules of society.

[Connor Morrison]

Tag: Benedict Bridgerton             Thread: Never Ben Better               Notes: N/A Connor made no attempt to conceal his satisfaction as Benedict sipped his drink to confirm the assumption. He was rather pleased that the man chose to elaborate further; it was not strictly necessary, and it was certainly possible to play the game based simply on confirming or denying, but it was always a bit more fun when the players offered further information. Benedict's third party, then — Connor would have leaned more towards the assumption that it was his second. Evidently, it took a little longer for the wonder and the naïveté to fully rub off from a man with Benedict's upbringing.  Benedict's assumption earned him a snort of laughter. He couldn't exactly say it wasn't a fair one for the man to make, given the fact that Connor had been the one to suggest this game in the first place. Nodding, he raised his glass to down a small sip of the brandy. "That I can, Mr. Bridgerton. Most, at least. Liston drank me under the table last month, but that was hardly a fair match — he's nineteen and built like a fucking bull." He paused a moment to think up the next assumption. "Mm... I think Sir Granville first noticed you because you draw. Or paint."

credit to Laura of Adox

[Benedict Bridgerton]

I'm not bound by                                  

Benedict felt a sense of . . . satisfaction perhaps, that he had been correct. He wasn't quite anticipating to be right in most of his assumptions but it did indeed feel good to at least get the first one. Especially as a novice to this game. He chuckled when Connor elaborated, speaking of Liston who outdrank him. Which, made sense. Something could be said about a younger male in the prime of his drinking days. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "I see he has left a wound," Benedict teased playfully; a wound of pride though he could not resist teasing the man. Figuring that based on their interactions thus far . . . he was not the kind to get easily offended by such a thing. His next assumption was . . . once again, indeed correct. Benedict's smile remained though it was one of less amusement. He raised his cup and took a drink. The subject of art was one Benedict greatly enjoyed discussing . . . so long as it was not about his own work. It was, inadequate. To say the least. While he knew he sketched in an area with others . . . it was with ease with the understanding that no one was looking at his work. With the exception of Henry. And he of all people was someone that Benedict was incredibly embarrassed showing his art to. Did this mean that Connor had seen his work? Benedict did not have the courage to ask. So instead, he quickly moved the subject along to the next assumption. ◈   ◈   ◈  ◈  ◈ "You are not here for the art, but for rather, a more pleasurable nature." Now pleasure, was open for interpretation though it was indeed intended to have immediate connotations understand by most. But whether that it was the pleasure of a woman or man . . . Benedict now knew better than to make assumptions about that, or whether the pleasure was found in drink and platonic company. The second Bridgerton son had been met with deeper pleasures than just practicing art upon his last two visits here so was curious to know that if it was not art -- considering he did not have any indication of material used upon his skin, nor had Benedict seen him in the painters room the past two times . . . then what was it that drew Lord Morrison to these parties. Tag Connor Morrison Note: Better layout coming soon!

                        the rules of society.