[center]"[b][color=9F1D35]You could not hope to understand. Not when your soul is weighed down by Remnant's gravity.[/color][/b]"[/center]

[b]Name:[/b] Benedict Falernian

[sub][right][i]"[color=66cd00]For what possible fucking reason would you change your goddamned family name?[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=9F1D35]To embrace either yours or father's would only spark conflict, and I will be above such petty matters.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]

[b]Parents:[/b] Gratia Mindaro and Napoli Fiordilatte

[sub][right][i]"[color=FADA5E]Don't ask.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=66cd00]Lord knows why I married him.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]

[b]Age:[/b] 17

[sub][right][i]"[color=fada5e]That was a bad year for me.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=66cd00]Tell me about it. You were a real fucking irritating brat.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=fada5e]And you weren't?[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=66cd00]I had the advantage of not making shitty puns, Fiordilatte.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=fada5e]Right, snagging an NC-17 rating for language put you at such an advantage.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=66cd00]... Touché.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]

[b]Gender:[/b] Male

[sub][right][i]"[color=fada5e]Gratia was pretty disappointed.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=66cd00]Don't listen to your jackass of a father. You were perfectly adequate.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=9f1d35]Of course. Neither of you could have produced anything less.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=fada5e]He gets that from you, right?[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]

[b]Race:[/b] Human

[sub][right][i]"[color=66cd00]100% homo sapiens sapiens, Benny. Despite what you believed when you were a kid, you're not a fucking Faunus like your Aunt Bianca or Aunt Beryl. You can't fly or swim for shit.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=9f1d35]One does not care to acknowledge the mistakes of one's youth.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]

[b]Weapon:[/b] At first glance, Benedict's weapon appears to be a large, man-portable bazooka named [i]Marignano[/i], one that, instead of firing high-yield rockets, is in fact an incredibly powerful particle beam launcher, possessing enough firepower to match even the guns equipped on an Atlesian Airship. The sheer amount of devastation that this weapon can wreak owes itself to the presence of super-miniaturised dust reactors embedded within its body, providing it with a terrifying amount of energy to fuel its shots, which can take out a flying Bullhead with ease. The variety of dust utilised in its six reactors also influences the nature of the particles in his shots; for example, the use of fire dust would infuse them with flames, and spread fire across what little would remain of its targets, while lightning would do the same with electricity, in some instances disabling electronics and the like through an electromagnetic burst.

There is, however, more to his bazooka than meets the eye. Like many other weapons utilised by Huntsmen across Remnant, it is able to transform into a secondary form when Benedict requires it to. Beyond its basic state, known colloquially to his compatriots as the "Mega Bazooka Launcher", it is capable of detaching itself into six "funnels", each with its own super-miniaturised dust reactor within to provide it with the ability to utilise dust-infused abilities, as well as increasing its operation times. They are remote weapons controlled through the subtle use of his puppeteering semblance, and can fly across the battlefield, peppering his foes with powerful particle beams. They too, are influenced by the type of dust within their reactors, with lightning dust, for example, enabling them to shock people and machines. The particle manipulation that they engage in can also be used quite creatively, with one of the Mistralese hunter frequently forming an unique barrier of particles with the funnels to block attacks coming his way.

When all is said and done, the [i]Marignano[/i] is also surprisingly durable, allowing Benedict to even utilise it as a melee weapon when the chips are down. Thanks to his inherited physical strength, he tends to wield his bazooka like a conductor's baton, waving it through the air with grace as he crushes his enemies with brutal force. It helps him concentrate on his semblance's abilities as well, as he unconsciously waves it around whenever it is active, utilising it as a focus for his powers.

[sub][right][i]"[color=fada5e]Man, here I was hoping some of my elegance would pass down into his fighting style.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=66cd00]Elegance? You mean that phallic metaphor you kept waving around to fuck people up?[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=fada5e]It worked on you.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=66cd00]Because your pin dick pricked a goddamn hole in the condom.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=9f1d35]I am becoming ... unwilling ... to hear more of this increasingly disturbing conversation.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=fada5e]I was about to say. The kid's right there.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=66cd00]You're setting an example. Now he'll know not to fuck over his girlfriend.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=fada5e]Great, I'll leave the bird and the bees speech to you.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=66cd00]He found your shitty porn stash when he was thirteen. He already fucking knows.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=fada5e]I don't have a porn stash...[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i][h3]"[color=66cd00]L[/color][color=fada5e]u[/color][color=66cd00]k[/color][color=fada5e]E[/color]!!!"[/h3][/i][/right][/sub]

[b]Semblance:[/b] [i]Il Burattinaio[/i] - As an offshoot of certain elements of his parents' unique semblances, Benedict's own provides him with the ability to perform what can be best described as 'aura puppetry', as he is in possession of incredibly fine control over all forms of aura. This semblance enables him to control and guide the actions of both objects, monsters and even other humans through aura, manipulating their bodies to act in accordance with his desires. The extent to which he can animate others is significant, and those in possession of their own aura, namely humans and animals, can find their own energies turning upon themselves under his gentle persuasions.

[sub][right][i]"[color=fada5e]I came up with the name but the crazy is all your mother.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=66cd00]Are you implying that Southern Mistralese isn't a crazy fucking mess of a dialect?[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=fada5e]It charmed you.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=66cd00]You proposed to me in a shitter language. Valic.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=fada5e]I courted you in Southern Mistralese though.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=66cd00]You sounded like you were trying to sell me a retarded fish.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=fada5e]Are you calling Benedict a fish?[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=66cd00]Benedict stopped looking even remotely aquatic when he got fucking fertilised.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=fada5e]He's still standing there.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]

[b]Personality:[/b] Aloof and solemn, the teenager known as Benedict Falernian (née Mindaro-Fiordilatte) is a rather impassive and quiet figure, approaching everything with a professional air. He isn't much for small talk, preferring to get his job done as quickly as possible with competence and skill. There is a strong sense of confidence in himself that he possesses, one that is rarely found in other people. Each action is taken with surety, although not without a degree of arrogance. After all, he strives to be the one who walks upon the path of heaven, to break through the limits imposed on him by the laws of nature, to be the greatest being beneath the heavenly host itself (to become greater would have been ... almost heretical, and besides, he knows that not even he can match the infinite glories of the Lord).

[sub][right][i]"[color=66cd00]I raised him well.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=fada5e]You did alright.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=66cd00]Far more than simply 'alright'.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=9f1d35]My talents would concur.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]

This is not to say, however, that he is an unsociable perfectionist with a massive chip on his shoulder. He can be quite ... eccentric ... compared to some of his compatriots, but he is in all, much like his father, a relaxed and utterly amicable person despite his quiet, restrained seriousness. Benedict may not purposely seek out others, but he is perfectly willing to entertain the presence of those seeking assistance or comfort, serving as a stable and mature confidant for any problem. He rarely cares for his own little teenage problems. Why should he, after all? They are but mere ants skittering beneath his feet, the smallest of issues that should not, and do not, bother him. He has problems of far greater scope that demand his attentions, whether it be to exterminate the world of Grimm, become headmaster of Haven Academy, or convince his mother that it is an utterly pointless exercise to document Mr Luke Schwarz' entire genealogy for the express purpose of studying the properties of mobile hair.

[sub][right][i]"[color=66cd00]Think of the research possibilities![/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=fada5e]But seriously, this is where my boy really shines. A natural borne man of the people.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]

Benedict tends to speak in a higher register than most others, sounding more like a member of the Mistralese nobility than his bastard father or his mother with her industrial slum background. This has been said to suit his gentlemanly and polite nature when speaking to both his colleagues and members of authority, but also possesses an extra benefit in increasing the sophistication of any cheeky taunt he wishes to throw in the direction of his foes, though this far rarer than his father's almost-unending desire to make Spider-Man-esque quips. Indeed, even in battle he doesn't speak much unless coordinating with teammates, nor does he get too overly emotional. Variations from his content state are hard to come by, for he has over the years developed a strong control over his own feelings. Fazing him, as such, is pretty much impossible.

[sub][right][i]"[color=fada5e]He sounds like Vega, he's quiet like Gratia, and he's controlled like me.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=66cd00]Controlled ... you?[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=fada5e]What? You sure as hell aren't, I was the only one on our team that kept his emotions in check.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=66cd00]I will ... grant you that. However, that does not explain jackshit about why our son speaks as if he's a fucking noble like Venetia and her cohort.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=fada5e]I mean, I guess he's a quarter-pounder, but colour me confused as to the reason why he talks like that.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=9f1d35]Aunt Venetia and her family could have been mothers to me.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=fada5e]Trust me, you don't want that. It'll make you blue.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=66cd00]For fuck's sake Benedict, they're not going to give you wine for free because you think you're family.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=fada5e]Y'know, if you want free food I have some cheese.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]

He does, surprisingly, have a sense of humour, even one that can be a bit mocking at times. If you've completely and utterly screwed yourself over, expect him to come over and laugh at you. Or at least, chuckle alongside everyone else at your misfortune. But don't see this as him disliking you or viewing others as objectively inferior. He likes people, and is incredibly loyal to them, to the point where he has never betrayed anyone in his life. You ask him for help, and he will deliver that help 100%. Benedict is a boy of his word, and no matter the struggle, he will stand by his principles and support you whenever he can.

[sub][right][i]"[color=fada5e]Like father like son.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=66cd00]He's more like me.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=fada5e]Since when have you possessed a sense of humour? The boy gets his good side from me.[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]

He's also, funnily enough, a wine connoisseur.

[sub][right][i]"[color=66cd00]The wine they use at mass is cheap shit. How the fuck did you turn into a connoisseur?[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=9f1d35]Even the greatest must start somewhere, no?[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]
[sub][right][i]"[color=fada5e]Just wait till you're older before becoming a complete drunk. Alright?[/color]"[/i][/right][/sub]

[b]Color:[/b] Burgundy (9F1D35)

[b]Appearance:[/b]
[img]http://i.imgur.com/UNyarJO.jpg[/img]

A tall and imposing figure of a metre ninety, the way in which Benedict carries himself exudes a sense of restrained gentlemanly grandeur, especially with his straight, unyielding posture. His expression usually tends to be one of calm serenity, and when considered with his regal cheekbones and handsome features, his very appearance and demeanour instantly scream out his aura of nobility (even though he would be, at best, the child of a bastard). With ruffled hair, blonde and black in colour, an athletic and powerful build, as well as sharp emerald eyes that burn with ambition, he is quite the attractive guy, though few suitors are able to match his standards.

His hair also extends out into quite a prominent ahoge, likely a byproduct of his mother's obsession with them. It moves in accordance with his emotional state, but Benedict has managed to develop a form of control over it, keeping the wayward hairs in check while in the presence of Gratia and therefore avoiding a lifetime of experimentation.

When in class, Benedict is garbed in the standard black and white uniform of Haven Academy, albeit with the top buttons undone to allow his pale neck some more breathing space. He frequently can be seen in darkly-framed reading glasses as well, though they are removed before he enters combat. It is during combat or a casual outing that his entire get-up changes, instead wearing a burgundy-coloured [i]redingote[/i] (highly durable and bulletproof) over his white uniform dress shirt, dark grey trousers, and brown riding boots that are suited for almost any situation (excepting of course, the dancefloor). 

He also owns a red peaked cap.

[b]Biography:[/b] Contrary to expectations that they would murder each other before their twenty-first birthdays, Napoli Fiordilatte and Gratia Mindaro managed to successfully bridge their differences as they slowly matured and essentially "mellowed out", a process that soon lead to them entering a relationship a few years after graduating into full-fledged Hunters. Marriage followed on its heels, and then a child, with Benedict Falernian (originally Fiordilatte/Mindaro depending on who was geographically closer) emerging into the world of Remnant when his parents were twenty-five years old.

For most of his early years, the Mistralese boy was reared by both his parents and his "extended family", which consisted of both his blood relatives (though on his paternal side, it was exclusive to those that Napoli actually liked) as well his parents' teammates and friends, providing him with a rather fascinating childhood. It was during this time that he grew to emulate each and every one of them, viewing their successes and failures as teachings that he needed to take to heart. Of course, this did not keep him from making the mistakes one would expect of kids, such as that one time he tried to fly without wings.

Over time however, his parents grew more and more busy with their hunting work, and Benedict found himself being bounced around the rest of his extended family whenever they were gone killing monsters or teaching or the like. While they always found time to spend with him, it was something that saddened the boy, knowing that they could be on mission for who knew how long, and that they could easily just ... die and leave him all alone. Yet this sense of duty that they possessed ... it inspired him, so by the age of twelve, he immediately embarked on the path towards becoming a Hunter himself, signing up at Sanctum Academy, a combat school for trainees, in order to prepare himself for Haven.

Five years later, he now leads his own team at Haven Academy. The team he vows will be renowned across the entire world.

[B]Theme Music:[/B] 
[list][*]Main: [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2DD_NR8fIpw]Legacy of Rome[/url]
[*]Battle: [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6M3s5-qSGyQ]Mega Bazooka Launcher[/url][/list]
--------------------------------------------------------------

[b][u]Enghien[/u][/b]

"[i]We have an armed robbery in progress at the Dust warehouse at [b]33 rue Talleyrand-Périgord[/b]. Suspects are reported to be armed with machineguns. Any nearby Gendarmerie units, please respond as quickly as possible.[/i]"

Patrolling the district had been, until now, incredibly quiet. Increased police presence in the area following the deadly gang skirmishes of the previous month had intimidated any would-be troublemakers into keeping a low-profile, lest they wanted to be struck down by the instruments of royal authority. It was a far cry from the days of her youth, when the industrial slums were havens for the immoral and illegal, and she couldn't live through a single day without hearing of somebody getting involved in such activities.

"Armed robbery, huh?" said her partner wistfully from beside her. "At least we've finally got something exciting to do."

She glanced at him out of the corner of her hazel eyes, before returning her attentions to the road. One hand flicked on the siren, awakening the familiar stream of noise and sound that alerted all nearby vehicles to their presence. The other skillfully steered their patrol car around a slow-moving sedan, and with a press of a foot she rapidly accelerated, overtaking their obstacle.

"Come on, don't you care about being able to do something for once?"

Their vehicle turned a corner, moving off the busy main road and onto the street that would lead them to the warehouses as quickly as possible.

"[i]A Hunter has engaged the suspects at the warehouse! I repeat, a Hunter has engaged the suspects![/i]"

Her partner let out a sigh, brushing a few locks of hair back from in front of his eyes. "There goes our chances of doing stuff then. By the time we arrive, the guy's probably cleaned everybody's clocks."

An explosion screamed through the air, and even from where they were sitting in the car, they could see the crackling red beam of energy shoot through the sky. It stayed there for a few seconds, sizzling with power. And then it dissipated, disappearing into the air as if it had never been.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then their radio crackled to life once more.

"[i]All suspects have been successfully apprehended![/i]"

"See, what did I tell you?" said her partner, turning around to poke her in the shoulder. "Boom. Send in one Hunter, and everything's fine and dandy! Really makes us sorta redun ... dant?"

They had arrived at the warehouse. Or at least, what could originally have been a warehouse. A gigantic, erratic hole was present in the roof, likely from the particle wave they had seen earlier. The entire eastern half of the building was rubble, fallen rafters and steel beams, as if somebody had set off several explosives during the robbery. Craters dotted the landscape, and one was beginning to overflow with water due to a clearly broken water main present within.

Police sirens rang out across the block. A number of their colleagues were already hard at work, pulling what she assumed were the unconscious suspects onto stretchers and setting up the investigation.

"You know, when they said machineguns, I was expecting something a lot more ... low-key," said her partner as they undid their seatbelts and exited from their vehicle. "Not a warzone."

She slammed the car door shut, taking in the environment. The scent of dust was prevalent, mixed in with the odours of burnt steel and ashes. The sun was high up in the clear blue sky, a symbol of the scorching Mistralese summer. A haze had fallen over them all, the air rippling in the heat.

And one of her superiors was rapidly approaching them.

"Mindaro," said the police detective, greeting her with a nod. "Good to see you here. You'll make talking to the Hunter a lot easier."

In any other circumstance, Galla Mindaro would not understand how her presence would help communications between the Gendarmerie and the Hunter that had intervened in the robbery. The appearance of that massive red particle beam and the state of the crime scene however, had already hinted to her the identity of this interloper. It was obvious when all the variables were taken into consideration.

"I'll talk to my nephew," she replied immediately.

Her superior brightened. "That'd be great. He's just ... sitting on one of the collapsed support beams. He isn't talking to us. Saying something about how he's only come here to laugh at us or ..."

Galla didn't need to listen. She was already walking away from her bemused partner and the detective, eyes fixated on the red-clad figure near the collapsed eastern half of the former warehouse. Her nephew was aimlessly fiddling with his glasses, as if he had not just emerged from a destructive battle with a number of robbers. As if he had not broken a single sweat. He was a lot like both his parents, in that regard. Other humans were barely an obstacle to them.

"Benedict. I need your information."

Her nephew paused, the flat tone of her voice turning his twinkling emerald eyes towards her. Benedict was surprised by her presence, if the sudden twitch of his ahoge was any indication. He rose from his seat, burgundy [i]redingote[/i] longcoat sweeping around dust as he reached his full height. He was a head taller than her, something he had clearly inherited from Napoli Fiordilatte.

"Aunt Galla," he smiled. "What is it that brings you here?"

She didn't care to reply. He already knew why she was here. He had seen her out of the house when she went to work this morning.

"I need your information," Galla repeated patiently, her tone changing not a single iota. "Why did you intervene? What did you do?"

"Fate decreed that I end the villainy of some unfortunates," intoned the burgundy-wearing Hunter. "That is all that is necessary to know."

She stared at him unblinkingly. It was not the answer she wanted. He tried to stare back, but after a few seconds, decided against it. She could wait here and watch him forever. She didn't really care about how long it took. Benedict, however, did.

"Is such information truly necessary?" he asked with a sigh. "Those criminals in custody could be easily interrogated upon their awakening. My presence is rather redundant."

"They can be biased," was Galla's reply. "I need your information."

She didn't really care either way, but her superiors did. So she was getting information.

Benedict pursed his lips, and his ahoge flopped downwards. "Very well then, Aunt Galla. I will grant you the information those unconscious fools cannot provide."

He could have tried to avoid answering, but Galla Mindaro would have continued to pursue the inquiry as long as she had been ordered to do so.

"I had hoped to spend this vacation with my parents," he admitted, putting his glasses back on. "Yet due to their prior commitments, I was left to occupy myself in another manner. Hence, I decided to explore the city instead. Your house, after all, is quite lacking in any form of entertainment."

Her home was utterly barren. It was empty, stark, as if all emotion and joy had been drained out of it. She didn't particularly care about how it looked or felt, but she knew that excitable teenagers like her nephew, who was staying with her, would not find it exciting. It was no surprise that he had decided to alleviate his stir-crazy by seeking the outside and what it offered. Like fighting criminals.

"Go on."

Benedict obliged, continuing smoothly from where he had previously left off. "It was during my forays outside that I first caught sight of five men [i]skulking[/i] around the warehouse. I would not have paid it much heed, had I not recognised their possession of automatic weapons. With my interest piqued, it did not take long for me to realise that they sought to rob the facility of all its Dust, so as a law-abiding citizen -"

He smiled grandly.

"- I chose to intervene. They were more skilled than I had originally expected, and utilised techniques similar to those taught at Sanctum, but they were dispatched with perfect ease, as you would expect."

"You misfired into the Dust."

"I would not be so inaccurate t-"

His words were interrupted by Galla lifting up the remains of a large Dust container, the metal warped and bent from what had obviously been exposure to one of his particle beams. Likely the one that had blown a hole in the roof, compounding the explosive damage that had arisen from accidentally igniting the Dust. Not a mistake that the teenaged Hunter would have usually made, and his testimony had been in accordance with that. Yet the evidence ... the damaged warehouse ... it was all there.

"... I did," said Benedict reluctantly. "They were more skilled than I had originally expected, and so I was caught off-guard. That is all."

Galla nodded, dropping the wrecked metal container with a quiet thud. That was all she really needed from her nephew for now. They would question him more later, but there was no more reason to really pry. Her job here was essentially done.

However ...

"You're taking this slip-up personally," she noted, tone still unchanged. "Why?"

Benedict's smile was a resigned one. "I suppose," he said, voice quiet, "that I am emotionally affected by the absence of both mother and father. I returned from the Academy to see them, but alas, they have other business to tend to. I feel ... undeserving, unworthy."

His solemn emerald eyes bore into his aunt's.

"Did you ever experience similar, Aunt Galla?"

"No."

Valentinian and Severa Mindaro were not Hunters. They were a constant presence in her life. It would be different had they not been present whenever she returned from school. So she could not empathise with her nephew at all. But she could understand him.

"You really love them," said the younger Mindaro sister. "That's why you're so disappointed. You want to do them proud, but they've left you here with me."

He blinked in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"Big sister was the same," explained Galla. "She always wanted to make mum and dad proud. She wanted to be successful for them at all times. And she didn't like it when they were busy."

Benedict and Gratia were very much alike. She could see her sibling's eyes in her nephew's. There was far more passion (from his father), but they were the same eyes. The resigned gaze was very familiar to her.

The burgundy-wearing Hunter nodded quietly. "I suppose ... that is correct. I mean you no disrespect, Aunt Galla, but when I returned, I did not expect to stay with you. I ... I expected to reunite with them. To consume their meals. To tell them of my exploits. I didn't want to ... live with you."

Galla shrugged. That was understandable. Benedict wanted his parents, not her. She was just his aunt.

"It's really bothering you then," she stated. "That's not good."

"That is a conclusion that I have already made, yes. I do not see how stating the obvious can help."

She shook her head and crossed her arms in front of her chest. "It doesn't. But I can help. Big sister taught me how to cook. I might not be her, but maybe I can make your stay more pleasant."

"Aunt Galla ...?"

She had already turned, and was already walking back towards her patrol car. "Follow me, Benedict. I'll drive you home and cook you dinner. It's not good to see your soul weighed down."

It was difficult, talking to her sometimes. But her willingness to just ... help him out ... it reminded Benedict that his aunt was there for him, even when he hadn't really expected her assistance. He allowed himself to chuckle. It was still disappointing, not being able to interact with his parents, but spending some time with his aunt ... that was fine too.

"I shall look forward to it," he declared with a bright smile as he followed after her.