Introducing Benvolio

[keep_the_peace]

Waking up in a strange bedroom, in a strange house, was bad enough, but then when Benvolio finally made his way to the front door he was greeted by snow outside. Summer might be coming to an end, but it definitely is not snow weather yet, nor is Benvolio dressed for such, in his black silk doublet, black and blue trimmed trunk hose, and black stockings. He does have shoes on, thankfully, though he can't imagine how he would have fallen asleep wearing shoes. It's not like he's had much opportunity to celebrate to the point of blacking out lately, after all.

Regardless, he takes one look at the snow outside and decides to shut the door and instead turn his attention to the table covered in different pamphlets and papers. He has many questions.

Comments

[keep_the_peace]

Benvolio gives a little bow - enough to be polite, as this is a prince apparently, but not too much. Mercutio's talking about biting him, so he clearly isn't someone Benvolio has to worry about being overly proper around, or anything. "Mercutio told me you would know when the --" what was it called? "refrigerator is from."

[wickedwit]

"Oh, I've no idea," Claudius answers blithely and readily. "They're a must for marital happiness, or so the magazines tell me, but I've never had to convince my husband to buy me one when they're so abundant already. I do know every generation is better than the last. You do not want to be stuck with a Frigidaire '35 when the Frigidaire '37 is on the market."

[bymyheelies]

Mercutio nods as though that means something to him. It doesn't, of course, but he is ready and willing to entertain any sort of nonsense at the moment; it's a wonder how much your mood improves when your best friend shows up out of nowhere.

"I should hope thou'rt happy," he adds, laughing. "Art still a newlywed, or near enough."

[keep_the_peace]

Wait wait wait, hold on a second. "Husband?" Benvolio asks, staring helplessly at Mercutio for clarification.

[wickedwit]

"Yes, my dear and beloved husband Galahad," Claudius says, clarifying what may be a slightly different point. He puts his hand not-too-inelegantly down his blouse and fetches out an opal inlay locket, snapping it open to show off the inside. "This is his portrait miniature. Is it not cunningly done? He drew it himself, at my request ... you see, I've a preference for opals, but I teased him once that his face was dearer to me than any jewel imaginable. Newlywed talk. A man shouldn't be so handsome, devoted, and talented all at once, and yet he is, and he's mine."

[bymyheelies]

Mercutio nods, shrugging a little. "Ay. 'Tis -- quite common, here, there are some few married couples. All of them are men, or ...shaped like them, anyhow. I knew not what to make of it as well."

[keep_the_peace]

"I... see..." Does he though???? Good question. "And -- 'tis not... looked down upon? Nor against any law?" He does sound almost hopeful as he asks that.

[wickedwit]

"The mixed-sex couples are less eager to marry because it's what's expected of them. That's my theory. There's no particular law here, so we can do as we like, and what people like depends on --" An airy wave of the hand. "Oh, so many things. Anyway, I was inviting you to compliment my husband -- that was the subtext. It can be on his looks, his thoughtfulness, or his artistic skill, but you do have to say something."

[bymyheelies]

Mercutio rolls his eyes fondly. “Yes, thy husband is an excellent artist, thou knowest. Art satisfied now?” His words are light; but it’s to hide the fact that his traitorous stomach did a slight leap at the hope in Benvolio’s voice. Surely it means nothing.

[keep_the_peace]

Benvolio is still a little too full of emotions he isn’t quite sure how to process, so his response to Claudius is, “Aye, he seems a most accomplished and handsome man,” and then he immediately wants to be anywhere but here because what kind of response is that????

[wickedwit]

"Now this is a man of taste," Claudius says. "Mercutio, thou hast not told me enough of thy charming young friend. Let's get to know each other better." Claudius abandons any intention of leaving and leaving the boys to their wrestling.

[bymyheelies]

“Tush, I have told thee plenty.” He has, actually; but they were both quite drunk at the time, so it is understandable that neither of them remember much about it. “And as he is here now, ask him thyself.”

[keep_the_peace]

He feels incredibly out of his depth right now, and sort of wishes Claudius would go. He wants to catch up with Mercutio, he has spent two months thinking Mercutio was dead. Benvolio has nothing against Claudius, and does want to properly meet him, since he seems to be such good friends with Mercutio and all, but he wants that to happen some other time.

He's not going to let on about any of that though, instead happily (?) responding, "What would you like to know?"

[wickedwit]

Claudius, of course, is a former diplomat, with the self-taught skill of ‘reading the room’ — a mix of observation, interpretation, and situational awareness. But as a former diplomat, he takes a certain glee in turning it off. It takes the guesswork out, forces people to use their words, and lets him have a little fun in the meantime. With a smirk, “Oh, let’s see. What’s your ideal man? Do you prefer fair-haired artists, or athletic brunets?”

[bymyheelies]

Mercutio is muttering some very unkind things in Venetian; which the mansion is gracious enough to not translate. Any hopes of hiding the blush slowly spreading across his face are gone, but he perseveres.

“Claudius,” he says, slightly higher-pitched than he means it to be. “He has only just arrived.” Would he be encouraging this nonsense if it were Romeo in this position? Absolutely. Benvolio is a different story.

[keep_the_peace]

Mercutio clearly having his back (why wouldn’t he, of course) allows him to calm down some, but he’s still not about to actually answer that question. He meets Mercutio’s eyes for the briefest moment, gratitude mixed with the question of he’s alright to mess with, right?, before he finally replies to Claudius with, “How terrible for all of the fair-haired athletes and brunette artists of the world, that they should not be offered the same opportunity for adoration, by your standards. To say nothing of those lacking hair altogether.”

[wickedwit]

"Oh, so thou hast a diverse palate," Claudius teases, pressing into the familiar. "As thou shouldst. A man can miss the great loves of his life by being too particular. But is there not a dashing and dark-haired athlete nearby who merits consideration? A swordsman, perhaps."

[bymyheelies]

Of course he's alright to mess with-- is Mercutio's silent answer, before he is entirely distracted by Claudius' next sentence. "He hath not met Sir Lancelot yet," Mercutio says, trying his best to think of other dark-haired swordsmen in the mansion. "Nor thy Laertes, nor Lan Wangji." Because clearly, clearly he's not the one being discussed here.

[keep_the_peace]

So this is an afterlife, and Benvolio's death is merely delayed, because he's probably not going to survive this conversation! "It seems there's any number of dark-haired athletes here. Joyful news indeed for connoisseurs of dark haired athletes."

[wickedwit]

"Such as thyself."

[bymyheelies]

Mercutio considers something for a moment. "Would red hair be considered dark? I know not. I do not think he hath met Gideon yet, either."

[keep_the_peace]

"Nay, I believe red hair is generally considered fair, is it not? Must be one of the fair-haired athletes not previously considered worth considering."

[wickedwit]

Claudius clucks his tongue. “Why are men so determined to stint themselves? I tried for thee, Mercutio. Thou wilt have to win thine own compliments from Benvolio’s mouth.”

[bymyheelies]

He snorts. "O, ay? Would that Romeo were here--" he says teasingly, with a wink to Benvolio. "I have heard him compliment a lady so a courtier would blush."

[keep_the_peace]

"I wish he were here, alive again just as thou art," Benvolio says, unable to keep the sadness out of his voice, making this painful conversation even worse.