Introducing: Mercutio

[bymyheelies]

Mercutio is lying on a very plush couch. It is not where he was, that is clear enough. This is nothing like a tavern, certainly nothing at all like Verona. Even the lights are strange-looking, not flickering or dancing like flame. Is it some kind of faerie-land? Without doubt, it is not any sort of heaven or hell he has read of, though he knows well he should be dead. The lingering blood on his extremely thin, gauzy shirt is proof enough of that. Strangely, he is no longer bleeding, but that only makes it easier to rise from his bed and proceed to look about the room.

Eventually, he makes his way through the house, poking in various rooms until he finds his way to the main foyer. He opens the door and stands in the entrance, examining the gardens and forest beyond; before deciding that it is unreasonably cold outside. There's more proof, then, that this is not Verona, it had been the middle of summer when he had been fighting Tybalt. He shrugs, and proceeds to rifle through the papers at the table, not exactly reading or retaining anything on them. Clearly there are inhabitants, but he hasn't seen any of them yet. A queer faerie-land, indeed.

Comments

[bymyheelies]

He takes the offered beef and kneels, letting Szarka sniff at him for a moment before he offers the tasty snack. "So," he says thoughtfully, giving Szarka absent scritches though his comments are indeed directed towards Sagramore. "Art men here, and gods, and dragons, but only one hound? Strange."

[sagramore]

Scritches!! Mercutio is a Good Person. She flops into her side and rolls half over in case he wants to rub her belly too.

"Oh, my husband conjured her from force of will."

[bymyheelies]

He cannot resist so adorable an invitation, so of course Szarka is also receiving belly rubs. "Force of will?" He can't help but laugh. "O, to conjure by force of will and not spells or poesy. Thy husband must be stubborn as a mule."

[sagramore]

"Oh, he is," his tone gone very fond. "I think if he sets his mind to it he can accomplish anything."

[bymyheelies]

"'Tis strange, thou speakest freely of such things," he says, off-handedly. "Is it so common, here?"

[sagramore]

"Aye, it is common. It took me by surprise, too. It didn't follow from my experiences in the world I came from, but here-- it doesn't seem anyone looks askance at a person having a ridiculous number of lovers of any sex."

[bymyheelies]

He lifts his eyebrows, but nods, smiling. "I am right glad to hear it."

[sagramore]

"It certainly makes things easier."

[bymyheelies]

He laughs. "And more pleasurable, I would wager."

[sagramore]

"Oh, there's infinite pleasure to be found here." It's mildly flirtatious, because it's hard for it not to be, but that's just reflexes. Mercutio, you are too young.

[bymyheelies]

He raises his eyebrows. "Infinite. Thou art undoubtedly a good guide, then, an thou knowest this so well." It is also mildly flirtatious, but he's mostly just trying his luck, here.

[sagramore]

"I'm an excellent guide for a man," he teases.

[bymyheelies]

"And I a willing follower, an thou wilt have me." He's pretty clearly teasing right back.

[sagramore]

"Alas, you've some years yet to follow me, lad."

[bymyheelies]

"A pity," he purses his lips playfully. "I wager I would enjoy it."

[sagramore]

"Let time pass, and find out."

[bymyheelies]

“Would it could pass quickly.” He is certainly giving Sagramore an appreciative look.

[sagramore]

He laughs. "There are a lot of wonders here, but time passes no quicker than anywhere else."

[bymyheelies]

"O, alas -- a god of theater, but not of time?"

[sagramore]

"Alas. You'll have to make do."

[bymyheelies]

"Even so, 'tis still better than what awaits me."