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[incaenstrix]

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[altusimperius]

[His smirk falters, but only fleetingly. It's part of the game.]

What's your favorite color? [He tosses his hair, looking around them at the stalls.]

[incaenstrix]

[ Behold: the face of someone who hasn't thought about this since she was a little baby. ]

Um - What's yours?

[altusimperius]

I think... plum, [Bene decides, but isn't distracted for long.]

But I asked you first.

[incaenstrix]

[ She ventures - ]

Blue?

[ But it's more of a question than a declaration. ]

[altusimperius]

Are you asking me? [He snorts.]

Blue like the sky on a clear day? Or like that tarp over there? Or neither?

[incaenstrix]

Umm...

[ She tugs self-consciously at a lock of her hair and confesses - ]

I...don't know. I haven't really thought about it before. How do you decide? I'm sure that question sounds stupid.

[altusimperius]

[How does one decide? It's a fair question, and Benedict pauses to consider it.]

It's like... well, it's...

[He actually stops walking, tapping his chin in thought as he turns to Tertia.]

...well how do you know what tastes and smells you like? You just do.

[incaenstrix]

[ She thinks about that a moment. ]

Well - but there are certain tastes and certain smells that are comforting. Or disgusting. I don't know if you could say that about colors.

[altusimperius]

You can absolutely say that about colors.

[He gestures to another stall, hung with garish materials of the like used for tablecloths and curtains.]

That mauve, that’s disgusting. It makes one sick to look at.

[he’s not dramatic you’re dramatic]