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]

“A god?” He looks skeptical. Of course he’s heard of Dionysus—Bacchus, whichever, he is a learned gentleman. But this fellow looks, to be frank, nothing like a god at all. “I have been told of dragons, and ‘tis not a faerie-land; though there is one here, but not of gods.”

[vineleaves]

Hey, sometimes people inherit more genes from their mother's side of the family. We can't all be Herakles. It's fine.

"Yes, Temeraire and Dame Ragnelle are both so lovely. But I digress! In the world I come from there is... well, a play about -- ah, about you and your friends."

[bymyheelies]

He snorts. “Go to, ‘tis not so. Romeo is a fool indeed, but not so foolish to be written of.”

[vineleaves]

Dionysus is tempted to respond with ’He’s pretty darn foolish’, but considering who he is talking to… that’s maybe not the wisest choice.

“What would convince you I’m telling the truth?”

[bymyheelies]

Oh, likely not -- even though he would agree, he wouldn't be happy about it. "Show me it, then. Wherefore should someone write of us?"

[vineleaves]

He sighs. "Look, I would love to, but unfortunately the mansion doesn't stock any source material any of the residents here are from. You'll just -- you'll have to take my word for it?" Please?

Dionysus rubs his face in his hands for a moment before, "'Consort! What, dost thou make us minstrels? An thou make minstrels of us, look to hear nothing but discords. Here's my fiddlestick; here's that shall make you dance. Zounds, consort!' And then Benvolio said, 'We talk here in the public haunt of men. Either withdraw unto some private place, Or reason coldly of your grievances, Or else depart. Here all eyes gaze on us.' To which you replied, 'Men's eyes were made to look, and let them gaze; I will not budge for no man's pleasure, I,' and then Romeo entered, and I can keep going on, if you'd like, right up until the point when you no doubt found yourself here, but I don't think that would do either of us any favors. Is this enough for you, kid?"

A glass of wine appears in his hand, accompanied by the usual vines, and he takes a sip. This is really not how he wanted his afternoon to go.

[bymyheelies]

He gives Dionysus a disbelieving look. A god indeed, then; to know such things, and the wine to top off that proof. “Ay, ay, enough, I do not care to repeat it.” He’s not certain what he makes of this knowledge; but he’ll ignore that for now.

[vineleaves]

“I don’t blame you, I can’t imagine it was particularly fun. You’re sure you’re not in any pain still? Do you need anything? Have you eaten today?”

[bymyheelies]

He just shakes his head and laughs, with a disbelieving look. “Not since the morning.” Do you think he really had time for that, Dionysus?

[vineleaves]

Dionysus pats Mercutio gently on the shoulder. “C’mon kid, let’s get you a sandwich or something.”

He’s a feisty, impulsive, loud, foolish character, but sometimes that’s just how teenagers are, and no kid deserves to have gone through what he has. It’s great as a literary device, sure, but as is the case with so many Dionysus has come to know — to care so deeply for — in the time he’s spent here, it’s vastly different when the ‘character’ is suddenly a real, breathing person.

[bymyheelies]

He’s still slightly chastened by Dionysus’ quoting himself at him, so he nods and turns from —whatever it is he was looking at, willing enough to follow along. “You’ve my thanks, my lord.”

[vineleaves]

"Oh, don't worry about it. I'm just glad you're not-" worms' meat anymore "I'm glad you're feeling better."

Dionysus leads him down the hall to the cafe, sets him down at a table, then immediately sets about procuring a glass of water, a turkey sandwich, and, naturally, a side of grapes. He places these down, then sits himself, and takes a sip of his wine from earlier.

"Right. Now, I'm sure you must still have questions."

[bymyheelies]

"Ay." But right now, he's going to start devouring the sandwich. Dying takes it out of you, who knew? "The --" He motions at the ceiling. "The lights, that burn without heat--how?"

[vineleaves]

Sometimes you live through things being invented, and everything about how they work is made crystal clear to you, and you have an intrinsic understanding, able to explain it to someone who is unfamiliar, and everything makes a lot of sense.

Other times you live through inventions mostly in a drunken haze of partying and going to broadway shows, and suddenly realize you don't understand one bit.

"Electricity. Uh, you know lightning? Kind of like that, except controlled, uh, don't stick a fork in any outlets you might find though, then it's just like regular lightning, and you'll die. Again. But there's switches!" He gets up and goes over to the wall and turns the lights off then on again. "There's not just lights, it does a lot of stuff. But, again, definitely don't put anything metal in the outlets on the wall. Don't mess with wires either. Promise?"

[bymyheelies]

Mercutio just gives him a very blank look. Not a single bit of that was coherent except for maybe the last two sentences, as far as he's concerned; but he nods. He'll just assume it's some sort of fae magic until he talks to someone who makes more sense than Dionysus. "Ay, ay, very well," he says, halfway through his sandwich.

[vineleaves]

Well that's settled then, clearly his explanation was sufficient. "We can try to find you some fresh clothes after you've eaten, if you want." Hopefully without blood.

[bymyheelies]

He looks briefly confused for a moment, before remembering that it is not, in fact, the middle of summer here; and nods again. "Ay, I thank thee."

[vineleaves]

"I don't think anything in my closet is going to fit," Not unless Mercutio wants to wear one of Dionysus' togas, but he rather gets the feeling that isn't the preferred style for this kid. "But maybe we'll get lucky and find a room already full of things in your size."

[bymyheelies]

He finally raises his head from the crumbs of the sandwich, and gives Dionysus another dubious look. "Ay. I am not meant for the guise of the Romans."

[vineleaves]

"That was fast." He rolls his eyes. "If you're done eating we can go look for a room for you."

[bymyheelies]

"Ay! Lead on, sir god." He finishes his water as well and stands, waiting for Dionysus to lead the way.

[vineleaves]

They exit, and Dionysus tries a few rooms he knows to be unclaimed before they finally come across one with a collection of different things hanging in the closet.

"Oh! Lovely! I was hoping this would work. Anything that jumps out at you in there?"

[bymyheelies]

Mercutio moves over to peruse the closet, casting his glance over the array of shirts and trousers on display. Eventually he settles for something long sleeved and red, though in deference to the winter outside he does deign to add an undershirt. He also opts for some new jeans, since -- well, wearing the clothes one died in seems a bit morbid. "Does it suit?"

[vineleaves]

Dionysus gives Mercutio privacy while changing, turning back around once he's done. "I think it's lovely!" Much nicer than the shirt covered in blood, anyway. Not to mention more appropriate to the weather.

"Remind me to show you how to use the clothes washing machine some time soon. I... doubt you've done much laundry in your time, but trust me, having a machine for it is a big time saver. Not great for every fabric, but for most things it works well enough."

[bymyheelies]

Only slightly more appropriate, it's still basically gauze with an undershirt thrown underneath it. "A machine?" He frowns curiously. He'll probably attribute it to more fae magic, whenever he finds out about it; but it sounds intriguing enough.