2025-02-20 - We're Big Important Knights Here

There's many strange, mind-bending things about the Spellbound Isles but if you asked the park employees in a survey, surely a top-ten response would be this combination of a laundromat and smoothie bar called Swirlies. (The fact it isn't actually named for a middle-school bullying tactic would just miss the top twenty.) This Thursday morning, a typically energetic Brandon O'Donnell is alone on the laundry side, Airpods in his ears, hand-drumming on a white folding table as he watches the endless tumbling of his clothes in one of the dozens of side-loading dryers. He's singing along to what's surely Gerry Cinnamon's Sun Queen.

Faded memories of a young team
Like the echo of an old dream
I carved her name into a sunbeam
'Cause she's my Sun Queen

Unsurprisingly, he sings the Scottish busker-done-good's bouncy little ballad really well. What's more surprising is the way he keeps the beat with his hands, adding creative little fills that pop in a good way.

Yeah, someone actually decided that this strange combination was viable and then managed to convince an entire team of it, to the point it actually got designed, built, and opened. Despite all the magic shenanigans that the park is known for, this? This place is truly mind-boggling.

Still, people gotta do their laundry, so it gets used.

A flurry of sudden movement in Brandon's peripherals reveals Benedict standing there, a laundry basket balanced against his hip with one hand while the other clutches a smoothie that he's sipping from, eyebrows raised as he watches the impromptu concert Brandon is giving to the captive audience of the laundromat. Well, an audience of one, if Benedict is counted.

He's in the most colorful getup he's probably ever been seen in, which just means he's wearing a light blue shirt with his sleeves cuffed up to his elbows, and his usual black jeans. The contents of his basket are, predictably, all dark colors, mostly black with a smattering of grey. At least it means he won't have to separate his colors.

Brandon remains unaware of his colleague, up to the point where he does a little pirouette on the word 'Queen'. Mid-spin, he cottons on to Benedict standing there, laundry in hand, but has the presence of mind to complete the spin. A guy who's performed in front of thousands won't be put out by finding himself watched, even if it is a mild surprise to find someone there where he wasn't expected.

Laughing, the singer and sometime White Knight pops an Airpod out and turns to face the Black Knight-- or black and light-blue knight today, as it were. In greeting he says, "Hey man," then nodding to indicate the smoothie, asks, "What's in that thing? I was probably going for a berry blaster in a little bit."

The spin earns an amused shake of Benedict's head, and then he's setting his laundry basket down on the folding table. "Hello," he replies, and then looks down at the smoothie in his hand for a second or two as Brandon points it out.

He takes another sip, then sets it down and pops open the nearest unused washer. "Well, there's a half dozen fruit in it but one of them is banana so it's basically just a banana smoothie." It's only a mild gripe, because half the thing's already gone, just from the time it took for Benedict to order the smoothie and walk it over to this side of the strange establishment they find themselves in.

In short order his clothes are loaded into the washer and the machine is starting up, so Ben leans back against the table, once again with his smoothie in hand, and ignores the paperback that he'd purposefully dropped into the bottom of his basket before the trek over. Instead he looks over at Brandon and says, "Out of all the things my upbringing afforded me, I've come to decide that having my laundry done for me is the one thing I'd go back for."

Then he glares at the washing machine, a frown set on his face. It's the most antipathy he's probably ever expressed around anyone from the Arena.

"Oh yeah? My mom stopped folding mine when I was like, twelve," Brandon admits, still mostly unschooled in the intricacies of English class structure or where Benedict's upbringing might fit into it. That said, he's spent enough time on tour and in the UK market to have a vague awareness of these things... so like any American, he just straight-up asks.

"You didn't grow up with... servants, did you? Like Downton Abbey? Butler, footmen, all those dudes?" He's genuinely hopeful, a boyish grin on his face as he absently presses his fingertips together. "I mean, that'd be sweet."

"Yes, well, it was more maids and private chefs, but..." And this clearly pains him to admit, "Fundamentally, yes, it was like Downton Abbey." Benedict shakes his head and rubs a hand against his face, like scrubbing at himself will get rid of the frown still plastered across his expression.

It doesn't, but after he lets out a beleagured sigh, he seems to shake it off to some degree. "At any rate, I've clearly left that lifestyle far behind," he says. "For good. So I suppose I shouldn't complain so much." His chin lifts, like that physical movement is enough to force his mood to improve. "Sorry you had to listen to me whinge. I just hate bananas."

Walking in with a bag of laundry slung over her shoulder, and a back-pack in tow, Artemisia is dressed in what is definitely day-off laundry day clothes. A turquoise, cropped button up cardigan and a pair of high waisted grey leggings, paired with her favorite ribbon clad UGG's. A series of colorful barrettes pin down her hair around her features, curls left free to fluff up in the back. "What are we complaining about?" She wonders as she walks in.

"I ordered the wrong smoothie," Benedict answers for Artemisia's benefit, then gives a polite nod to the new arrival to laundry purgatory. He still takes a sip of said smoothie, only to wrinkle his nose a little bit as the flavor of banana hits his tongue. Then he sets it aside again.

Each time he does that, he swears he's just going to leave it. But then muscle memory kicks in and he drinks it again. "Why do I keep doing this?" he asks no one in particular, eyeing the smoothie like it's personally offended him. Which, it has.

"Truly a first world problem," Artemisia teases lightly with a smile. "What did you order? I'll get something else and swap you. I'm not picky."

Wordlessly, Benedict lifts his smoothie to show the thing is almost empty, so he must not hate banana that much. That or he just drank all of it to get through it faster. "It's alright," he says, the teasing making him laugh under his breath. "I'll live, I assure you. But thank you."

He folds his arms over his chest as he leans back against the table, staring into the swirling mass of dark clothing in the washing machine opposite him. "Well, since we're all stuck here for an indeterminate amount of time, I suppose the polite thing to do is introduce myself. I'm Benedict." Unfolding his arms, he offers a hand over to Artemisia, a smile replacing the generally put-out look on his face.

"Okay, but if you turn into a banana - it's not my fault," she warns with a little grin. The cost of banana smoothies. Artemisia joins Benedict by the washers, setting down her bags so that she can take that hand with a gentle shake. "Artemisia. Nice to meet you," she says warmly.

"Possibly not the strangest thing that's happened at the park, were I to do so," Benedict replies, to the warning. The handshake is indeed gentle, his hand calloused against hers, and as he withdraws he says, "A pleasure to meet you, Artemisia. If only it were in more ideal circumstances." This man must just hate doing laundry.

"The banana smoothie was that bad?" Artemisia says with a quirk of amusement, her dark eyes bright with humor. She moves to sort her laundry, a mess of colors and lights put into two separate machines.

Benedict shakes his head with conclusive finality. "There are no redeeming qualities about bananas," he says, intoning it like an edict coming down from on high. He's very serious about it. While Artemisia sorts her laundry, he picks up the paperback book he'd brought with him, but one glance at the back cover is all he affords it before setting it aside.

And then he catches himself with the smoothie in his hand, about to take another drink! The audacity of his unconscious mind. With a sigh, he steps away to the nearest trash can, where he gets rid of it before risking another sip.

"I don't know about that - aren't they a good source of potassium?" The petite blonde comments as she stands on her toes to stuff things into the washer. It might be a little overfull. Once her laundry is sorted, Artemisia takes a seat on one of the chairs and pulls a sketch pad and some coloured pencils out of her bag.

He didn't ask to be interrupted just as Benedict began to explain growing up in Downton Abbey. He didn't want to miss the chance to ask a hundred questions about having maids and private chefs and if girls like Lady Rose actually appeared at debutante balls, but Brandon did, and it's all the fault of his stupid iPhone. Buzzing and buzzing in his pocket until he couldn't ignore it any longer, he whipped it out and rolled his eyes at the notifications.

"Come on, Derek," Brandon mutters sotto voce, frustrated, "what the fuck is so important that you can't put it in a text?" Holding up an idle hand as if to beg patience from Benedict and now, Artemisia-- assuming they much care, which they likely don't and that's fine, honest-- he wanders off into a deserted corner of the laundromat, twin thumbs tapping angrily into his phone.

“Hey, woah—“ A new voice interjects, vaguely offended, to intercept before Benedict trashes a perfectly good half drunk smoothie that she didn’t have to pay for. “-put the brakes on there, guy.” It’s Louise, as point of fact, just arrived, hauling an overstuffed laundry bag behind her because she also despises the chore, so it’s put off as long as possible.

Funnily, she only actually recognizes Benedict after the fact. Like she might have accosted any hapless stranger for his leavings, but her expression lightens. “Black Knight!” She reaches out, makes the universal grabby hands gesture. “Sharing is caring.”

That’s the first point of order, second is a glance at the other faces in the room (who missed their opportunity) - she probs just crossed paths with Brandon, but there’s a nod for Arte since they keep bumping into each other.

"What, you want this?" Benedict says of the smoothie he, yes, was about to throw away. The half-drunk one. Which apparently Loiuse wants, so in a fit of complete shock he just acts on autopilot and hands it over, before he even realizes the familiar face attached to the grabby hands making the request. "Hello, Lou." Now that he recognizes her, things shift from being mostly strange to mostly amusing.

The potassium thing has Benedict tucking his chin against his chest as he fights back laughter, shoulders curving inwards. "Alright, you do have me there," he's willing to admit to Artemisia. And then he's sending a glance over Brandon's way, to where his coworker is tucked into a corner to deal with whatever business has dragged him away.

But then Artemisia has his attention again, with the way she's setting herself up to sketch, perhaps? He doesn't ask after it, but he side-eyes the drawing pad with interest.

"Hi Lou," Artemisia greets, glancing up from her drawing. She is not drawing the washing machines. Instead, she is drawing what looks like a sketch of some the mechanimals from the carousel.

Strange and amusing is on theme, after all. Lou takes her prize with a gracious nod, and a “Thank you,” like finally he gets it. She has no qualms about taking a long drag off the straw as she hails her bag the rest of the way into the row of washers. “Mmmm, potassium,” she says with appreciation.

She also takes the opportunity to peek at Arte’s page, while she’s grabbing armloads of her own stuff to shove in. She’s gonna be here awhile. “That’s awesome, Arte.” That’s awesome art. Badumtss.

Benedict utters a long, world-weary sigh. "Well, I suppose it's good that someone enjoys it," he says to himself. And then, back to his comfortable lean against one of the folding tables, he returns to his quiet contemplation of his clothes swirling around in the washing machine.

At least until Louise compliments Artemisia's sketching, and it's an excuse for Ben to abandon his attempts at observing via peripheral vision to just... look straight at it, instead. "Yes, very nice," he agrees. "Is that from the Midway? I walked through it for the first time not long ago."

As he mentions that, he shoots a look at Lou, and then after he smiles. "I'm exploring, like I promised I would. Playing proper tourist and everything," he tells her.

There's a soft giggle from Artemisia at Benedict's continued hatred of banana. She makes a few more marks with her pencil, before swapping to add some shadowy color on the horse. "It is. The carousel. I'm a little obsessed with the design of it. I think it's one of the most beautiful things," she admits with a hint of color to her cheeks.

“The banana gets a bad rap, but it is unabashedly itself,” Lou contributes over her shoulder as she shoved the lady in and thumps the washer door shut. “I can appreciate that. Especially when the price is right.” Trash food is like winning.

The admission that he visited the midway gets Lou looking at Benedict, eyebrows lifted. And when he acknowledges it, his sensible taking of her advice she positively beams at him for a moment. “Good man.” She gets her laundry started, takes her ill gotten smoothie, and finds a place to perch where she can see the other two. “I love the carousel too, it’s one of my favorite things to work on when I get the chance.” Hopefully not too often, since that requires things to break.

Finally shoving his phone back into his pocket, Brandon similarly shoves his irritation down and heads back over toward Benedict and the more recent arrivals with a forced smile fixed on his face. It's quite the departure from his previous, more typically positive, people-friendly energy. Unfortunately, his dryer's still a-tumbling and it's not far from the small gathering of smoothie aficionados, so that's where he directs his steps.

Nodding at Louise, Benedict can only offer up a small smile in the face of her beaming approval, but he looks appreciative nonetheless.

"Sounds as if I need to make a return trip for the carousel, then," he says after, since it comes so highly recommended. Then he pulls out his phone to open up his camera roll, flicking through them until he comes to a picture of one of the little brass creatures that can be found on the Midway. "Saw this wee little thing while I was walking back."

The screen is tilted in Lou's direction first, because Ben is ostensibly giving proof that he did the thing, but both Artemisia, and Brandon as he returns, are shown the photo after. And then Brandon is offered a raised eyebrow, nothing more than that, a silent questioning of if he's alright.

"A what-" Artemisia stares at the little brass creature before letting out an, "Oh!" of delight. "What is that? I've never seen one."

“You do,” Louise agrees readily of the carousel. “The circus is pretty nice too.” That’s said a little offhandedly and she sighs a little at herself for it. “But there’s the boardwalk and all kinds of stuff to explore, gotta pace yourself.” The phone is a welcome distraction. She leans in when it’s shown, and she says “Oh shit, that’s a good shot. I’ve only caught a glimpse.”

Brandon’s return gets him a proper looking at, and there’s a flash of recognition. “Heyyy you’re the guy—“ But his mood is tangible and she lets it trail off, thoughtfully. Instead she holds out her (“her”) drink. “Smoothie?” Cures all ills.

Absently nodding a greeting to Artemisia-- whom he knows-- and Louise, whom he doesn't, Brandon then gives his head a slight shake in response to the other knightly performer's mute query. He silently mouths the words, "My agent," then squints at Benedict's phone screen.

"Aren't they drones?" The singer-turned-knight asks this aloud of no-one in particular, staring at the screen as if trying to make sense of the creature captured there. "They've got to be drones, right?" He's not sure what guy Louise is referencing and doesn't ask, but a simple no-thank-you headshake for the smoothie declines the offer politely.

The nose wrinkle that follows is certainly enough to communicate Benedict's response to Brandon's mouthed words, and a sympathetic look is shot his way before Ben swipes through a couple of other photos, different shots of the creature.

"I have no idea what they are," Benedict admits. "But it was eating popcorn off the boardwalk when I saw him. And he let me get close, too," as evidenced by the pictures. "And I don't think they're drones, unless we're casually employing future tech to clean up dropped food. Seems a touch wasteful."

He puts his phone away after everyone gets a good view of the pictures. "I was thinking of posting them up on the forum," he adds, after a moment of deliberation.

"Oh-oh!" Artemisia chirrups. "Maybe they're like the mushrooms and the gargoyles!" Her dark eyes light up with a cascade of pink sparkles like an anime heroine as she clasps her hands. "It seems there's little magical creatures. Like the bunnies."

"Eating", Louise repeats, musingly, with a tappity tap of fingers against the side of her cup, and that is interesting. "Wouldn't think, if they were mechanical, that they'd..." That thought trails off, with her twisting her head to get a better look at another of the shots. "I wonder what they are inside." Which is a horribly morbid question, unless they're clockwork, in which case just fascinating."

Chalk it up to another mystery of the island, along with Swirlies, and...Arte's eyes. That flash of color gets a doubletake from Louise - she doesn't comment, but there's a beat where she's staring pretty shamelessly. Never a dull moment around here. She takes a slow sip of smoothie, then nods absently at Benedict. "You should definitely post it. Be curious what the animal handlers have to say about it, if any of them have gotten a look at the critters."

"I figured as much," Benedict says as he nods to Artemisia. "They were, ah, very lifelike." He looks over with his eyebrows furrowing as Lou asks after what they're like inside, and he can't help but let out a bit of laughter. "That's a bit dark, but I can't say I'm not curious too."

It's less intense focus from Benedict than Louise when Arte's eyes change, but he does take note. And when he's prompted to post the pictures, he whips out his phone to do just that. "We'll see what comes of it," he comments as his thumb taps against his phone screen.

"Funny that mechanical creatures would eat non mechanical things," Artemisia muses with a tip of her head before scribbling on her paper a little more. She doesn't seem to notice the intense looks, fully unaware of what her eyes are doing at any given time. She blinks at the question of what they're like inside and then looks horrified. "You wouldn't open one up..."

"Just weird, man," Brandon breathes, adding a little classic middle-American levity to the general acceptance of the strangeness that is Spellbound. "There's times here that I think I'm high literally every minute of the day and I haven't touched any substances in over a week before that," he says with a chuckle.

Oh, right. He was a musician before he came here, and probably still is. That tracks.

Stepping back and away from Benedict's phone, Brandon gives his dryer a glance. It's tumbled to a stop, which gets a low whistle of relief from the young man.

It may only really register, the way that it sounds, when Lou gets that horrified reaction from Arte. She blinks, then waves a hand. "No no, no, no." A pause, just to make sure that registers, and then one more for good measure. "No." A pause, chewing on her straw. "Unless I knew for sure it wouldn't mind." Like a flying Roomba wouldn't care, right? Brandon's comments get a snort. "Reality has definitely become more wibbly wobbly than it used to be."

She finishes off the rest of the smoothie, and now it is going to go to its final resting place in the trash. She steps over to toss it, and nudges Benedict on the way back past. "How hails the dread nation of Draugrheim?" If she remembers correctly.

"The maintenance techs might, if they're robots," Benedict points out, whilst on the topic of opening one up. He shrugs a shoulder. "Must be some way to clean them out. Unless they're actually digesting the food?" This has him frowning with concern, because that... is disgusting. He makes a face that communicates his inner thoughts fairly accurately.

Brandon's comment earns a pointed finger, as Benedict clearly agrees. "Strange and unusual," he says, of that.

Falling into a contemplative silence after that, the truth of that statement weighs on him for a moment, at least until Louise bodily nudges him right out of it. "Oh, you know, as ghastly and ghoulish as ever," he's happy to report. "We debuted a new trick last weekend that went over smoothly, so that's been worked into our choreo now." He tilts his head in Brandon's direction, smiling with just a touch of mischief in his eyes as he verbally tiptoes around the events of last weekend's Equestrian Challenge.

"Oh man." Artemisia laughs at Brandon's comment about being high. "I am so glad that's not just me." Musicians. "I will say watching the fireworks show blazed in an excellent experience."

Yeah, the digestion question is a real one, Louise has to pause a moment to contemplate that one. Her expression may echo Ben's. Little brass bird droppings all over the place - no other parks have these problems. But she shakes her head, dismissing that one. For now.

Benedict's update on the state of things gets a hum of satisfaction from her, as she goes to lean up against her machine again. "I would expect nothing less." Villains gonna villain, after all. The tease of a fancy trick gets a glance between the two knights, as she connects dots. Way to intrigue, guy, just poke the curiosity. "Ok fine, I'm gonna have to come catch a joust soon," she says, with a roll of her eyes -- so put upon, but it's done with a smile to show she's joking.

"Oh, we're absolutely full of surprises," Brandon chimes in, going to open the door of his Speed Queen dryer and starting to hum Sun Queen again. Grabbing his laundry bag from the nearby table, he begins stuffing it with a load of what appears to be exclusively hoodies and cotton t-shirts....

So many hoodies and t-shirts. Does this guy wear anything else? Ever?

"Ruby kept saying that," he absently tells Louise and Benedict, his voice echoing off the inside of the dryer drum. "My girlfriend. Said she'd come catch a joust, but only made it down there last weekend. Fair play, I didn't exactly talk it up much. But when she showed up it kinda blew her away. This isn't weekend Ren Fair shit."

As someone who seems to exclusively wear all black outfits - excepting today, because it's laundry day - Benedict can't really say anything about the torrent of hoodies and t-shirts that come spilling out of Brandon's dryer, can he?

He shakes his head at the glancing blow against Renaissance Fairs, which he's never personally experienced, so he can neither defend them nor join in deriding them. All he can say is that, "We put on a professional show," with a sharp nod. And then maybe a slight smile afforded to Brandon.

"Just tell me when and I'll make sure you're seated in the VIP section," he tells Louise, and then after a second or two passes, he looks towards Artemisia. "The same to you, so long as you're willing to cheer for the villains."

"Hey, don't knock a Ren Faire," Louise says, though it's good-naturedly. "Most fun I've ever had in a corset." She delivers the line straight, but let's be honest, this girl is not the corset kind. She's the jeans and t-shirt kind. Well, right now, sweatpants - it's laundry day, don't judge the look. "But I am excited to see what the pros get up to."

Benedict's kind offer, gets a look, little bit squinty in thought. "When's your next show?" Much like a smoothie, she will seize the opportunity if it's being given, pin that plan down.

"Not knocking anything," Brandon says mildly, knocking on the dryer for emphasis as he closes the door, a wry smile twisting his lips. "Except maybe this dryer. Just saying guys like the Dread Baron and the Black Knight here," he nods toward Benedict, "they level everything up on their own. And that's before the CGI, the practical effects, the music and everything else."

Slinging his laundry bag over his shoulder, the sandy-haired white knight adds, "They go all-out here is the point. Like the difference between the NBA and a high school hoops game. The experience is what the people pay for, and believe me, they get it."

"Don't let Mr. O'Donnell here sell himself short, he is an integral part of the performance," Benedict is quick to jump in with, after Brandon's already stoked his ego a thousand times over. And rather than puff and preen about it, Ben just looks a little bit taken aback, but in a positive way. Maybe he's just shy about it.

He glances at his watch, then says, "We have shows every day this weekend, and I'll be suited up for all of them." To Lou, he raises an eyebrow. "Are you interested, then?" It's a good thing he's capable of playing cool, because the side-eye he does to check her expression suggests he's more invested in Louise's answer than he's letting on otherwise.

The sports metaphor just has Ben shaking his head.

Okay, okay, Louise is convinced - Brandon has made a compelling argument (as though she weren't already sold). There's distinct amusement, watching Benedict suffer the compliments, turn them back around on Brandon.

As for whether she's interested? "Oh," she says, with a far pass at solemnity, "Absolutely I am." Enough so that she's got her phone pulled out in a moment, to tap through to her calendar to doublecheck schedules. "All right, Black Knight, give the time and I’ll be there. I’ll try to be appropriately ominous.”

Between Louise and Benedict's phones, schedules are compared and a date is agreed upon for those VIP tickets to make their way into Lou's possession. And then it's just down to the matter of laundry, which has some of them leaving earlier than others. But eventually this one time-consuming task is completed.

At some point during the wait, around when he has to move his clothes over, Benedict goes back and gets himself another smoothie. One without bananas, thank you very much.