[OTA] To The Day

[intotherough]

Thirty-eight years ago in Aberdeen, Scotland, Benjamin Caillean Mackinnon was born to Anthony Mackinnon - a cardiologist affiliated with the hospital his only son was born in - and Sine Barrie Mackinnon, a historian. The date is no secret, and was neatly noted by the Diamond who met him at the Castle four years ago, when he arrived in Deck.

Still, Ben isn't really one for throwing a birthday parade, and so he's gone through his day the way he goes through all his days. Up in the morning and out with Charlie, because that dog has more energy than Ben does even under the influence of an entire pot of coffee. Then to the pub, to frown at inventory and the books and open the place up in time for lunch business. Then he's largely busy; his birthday went and fell on Friday this year, after all, and that's the day that everyone seems to be coming by.

Sometime in late afternoon, though, he leaves the pub in the semi-capable hands of his cook and goes for a wander in Town. He might buy himself a book or a blade, or just end up at one of the cafes for tea and - probably, because he was human - cake. He does have birthday rituals, even if they're not flashy ones.

One of them involves not working the entire day.

Comments

[morallydefunct]

"I would think it is a lack of need for things," he said, shrugging. He personally did not have much he wanted or needed outside of what he had. But that was merely a personal observation if one asked him.

"Ten year ago, I wouldn't have thought us likely to make it this far."

[intotherough]

Ben shrugged his shoulders a bit laconically as he poured himself his own whiskey and leaned on the bar. "Ten years ago, I was half convinced you'd already bit it," he said with rare blunt honesty.

"Course, eight years ago, you then popped up with that curious order of a genuine claymore." He'd known something was up then, as he was pretty sure the Republicans weren't trying to reenact Culloden any time soon.

[morallydefunct]

"You should have seen the look on your face," he said, smiling a little at the memory before he lifted his drink to his lips. "And I might as well have died, for all the rest of the world cared. But I couldn't leave you to thinking I'd been shot to death in Prague. I just didn't think your heart could take it."

[intotherough]

"Well, it would've been a waste," Ben said. "And such a cliche, when it comes down to it. Everyone seems to get himself shot to death in Prague. The government really ought to issue some sort of hazard warning, aye?" His smile flickered as he took a drink of his whiskey. "But 'tis true enough that I might have never recovered myself."

[morallydefunct]

"What? A run the best of places to dump a body and run?" Victor almost laughed at the idea before he shrugged just a little.

"I'm sure someone would have nursed you back to good health. Lucky for you, we don't have to worry about it much."

[intotherough]

"I'm certain we could find another place," Ben said. "Budapest hardly gets any attention these days, really."

He brushed a hand through his hair with a bit of a grin. "Aye, well, I imagine I might have found someone willing t'do so," he agreed. "Still. Wouldn't have been near as much fun as we had."