bymyheelies: (more gratuitous chest)
[personal profile] bymyheelies posting in [community profile] desperatefans
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.

Date: 2024-03-12 02:12 am (UTC)
futaille: (snark)
From: [personal profile] futaille
"It was quite a delight to have wings for a day, I'll admit, but I can see ways in which I could have been much less lucky in it, yes."

Date: 2024-03-12 05:48 pm (UTC)
futaille: (profile)
From: [personal profile] futaille
He shrugs. "It's hardly a secret. I got caught on the wrong side of a revolution. Got executed."

Date: 2024-03-13 12:37 am (UTC)
futaille: (unsure)
From: [personal profile] futaille
And that would be another shrug. "My friends wanted to bring back the republic, so, France being France, there was an attempt at revolution."

Date: 2024-03-13 09:57 pm (UTC)
futaille: (fed up)
From: [personal profile] futaille
"If you say so. Certainly an early way to a grave."

Date: 2024-03-15 03:13 am (UTC)
futaille: (smirk)
From: [personal profile] futaille
"All roads lead to Rome," he says wryly.

Date: 2024-03-16 02:29 pm (UTC)
futaille: (Default)
From: [personal profile] futaille
"And a longer one from Paris, I assure you."

Date: 2024-03-17 03:29 pm (UTC)
futaille: (Default)
From: [personal profile] futaille
"Ah, of course. Grantaire. It's a pleasure."

Date: 2024-03-18 11:58 pm (UTC)
futaille: (grin)
From: [personal profile] futaille
"Oh, there's an abundance of good company here, so you should have more than your fill."

Date: 2024-03-20 12:40 am (UTC)
futaille: (Default)
From: [personal profile] futaille
He laughs. "Oh, you've figured that fairly quickly."

Date: 2024-03-21 02:57 am (UTC)
futaille: (smirk)
From: [personal profile] futaille
And that would be another laugh. "Apparently so. I assure you there is even better company about... well, depending upon your tolerance for nonsense, I suppose."

Date: 2024-03-25 11:36 pm (UTC)
futaille: (Default)
From: [personal profile] futaille
"Oh, a master, you say? That is an outsized claim to make."

Date: 2024-03-27 02:50 am (UTC)
futaille: (grin)
From: [personal profile] futaille
He laughs. "Ah, well-played. I will not impugn your sense of nonsense any further."

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Desperate Fans: a literary roleplay!

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