Once Mal had figured out what was going on, of course she had told Ben. And so he too was walking outside to find those who might need help, might need calming. After all, there was nothing he had to hide. No matter the theme - and Mal had been sure there would be one - he had nothing in his memories that he feared to share. The few regrets in his life he could explain to the reasonable. And he knew how lucky he was. How few times of lingering pain he had experienced; how few of them hadn't been resolved by now.
Ben, usually busy, would be easily accessible for once. Well, he generally kept his office door open while working. But this mad him more approachable. He was also in what was for him, casual clothes. A blue silk shirt, blue slacks, a blue and gold jacket. No crown. Sneakers.
Ben could be found walking the lawns. Most of the memories from him were... unexciting. Mostly they were of a younger Ben and a kind looking woman curled up with large stacks of books, whiling away the hours.
There were a few memories of conversations here and there... but nothing scandalous or even all that interesting to anyone who wasn't part of the conversation. And lots of books. Picnics, with books. Hot cocoa by the fire sitting back to back reading their way through a huge pile of books. Itty bitty Ben in her lap as she taught him how to read a story book.
Really nearly every memory with his mother was simply the two of them reading books or discussing books. He was enjoying revisiting these quiet moments, but mostly was out here to help others.
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timeasmymeasure
NPC | Ben
Date: 2023-05-21 01:28 pm (UTC)Ben, usually busy, would be easily accessible for once. Well, he generally kept his office door open while working. But this mad him more approachable. He was also in what was for him, casual clothes. A blue silk shirt, blue slacks, a blue and gold jacket. No crown. Sneakers.
Ben could be found walking the lawns. Most of the memories from him were... unexciting. Mostly they were of a younger Ben and a kind looking woman curled up with large stacks of books, whiling away the hours.
There were a few memories of conversations here and there... but nothing scandalous or even all that interesting to anyone who wasn't part of the conversation. And lots of books. Picnics, with books. Hot cocoa by the fire sitting back to back reading their way through a huge pile of books. Itty bitty Ben in her lap as she taught him how to read a story book.
Really nearly every memory with his mother was simply the two of them reading books or discussing books. He was enjoying revisiting these quiet moments, but mostly was out here to help others.