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

[bymyheelies]

"'Tis this place," he says, muffled into Benvolio's shoulder -- and pulls away, just a little, so he can be heard. "'Tis some magic here, I know not what. The spirits of this house, or this land, or whate'er it may be -- hath decreed that I, among several others, should be alive upon my arrival here. Even though the last thing I remember was --mm. Tybalt, and what came after."

[keep_the_peace]

If the hug gets a little tighter when Mercutio mentions Tybalt, no it didn't, you're just imagining things. "I don't understand, however I shall not question it further, and just be glad of it." He holds tight to the hug for another beat before something hits him. "Mercutio! I must tell thee of what happened to -- of what happened after thou --"

[bymyheelies]

"Nay, I know it --" He raises a hand to quiet Benvolio, and makes a brief face. "'Tis something else you will not understand, but our story was written of. Some people here know of it, and hath told me. Romeo killed Tybalt, ay? And then himself? For love of the Capulet girl?"

[keep_the_peace]

He'll deal with the question of what meanest thou it was written of in a minute. "Aye, he had been banishèd¹, yet was found soon thereafter in her tomb, where he had--" He clings a bit helplessly to Mercutio.



1.To Jacksonville???

[bymyheelies]

Mercutio snorts and shakes his head. "All this over a girl he had known for three days. He is a fool."

[keep_the_peace]

He doesn't really feel like shit-talking Romeo right now, so he tries to redirect the conversation from that. "His mother passed as well. When she heard of his exile."

[bymyheelies]

"...Ah." He sighs. It's hard for this to feel real, it hasn't felt so since he arrived here; in this strange place full of lights that do not burn and machines that do the washing for you, he has almost been content to view it as a fairyland, or an afterlife. Benvolio being here changes that. Yes, it is good to finally have someone from home -- one of his dearest friends, no less; but then to hear the rest of the tale? It is more difficult than he had thought it would be.

"I'faith, I am sorry, my Ben. I know she was dear to thee."

[keep_the_peace]

"Things have been... difficult, of late. To say the least. But -- but now I have thee back--" thanks to whatever magic this place is made from.

[bymyheelies]

"I shall not leave thee," he says, pulling Benvolio in for another tight hug. "I swear it."

[keep_the_peace]

It feels like his heart is going to beat right out of his chest, having Mercutio back, in his arms again under happier circumstances, and saying... well, saying that. He takes a deep breath.

"Mercutio, I do have one question." He has many questions but this one's important.

[bymyheelies]

"Ay?" He hasn't moved from their current hug, having found a comfortable position to slot himself into.

[keep_the_peace]

Benvolio also doesn't seem to be in any hurry to move from the hug. Still, he asks, "What art thou wearing?"

[bymyheelies]

"Clothes," Mercutio replies promptly, knowing full well that is not the answer Benvolio actually wanted. He grins, however, unrepentant. "Wherefore? Wouldst thou have me unclothed? A cruel man, to throw me out in the snow with not a scrap on me."

[keep_the_peace]

He does finally pull back from the hug, if only to be able to swat at Mercutio. "Thou knowest what I meant, knave. I've not seen clothes like this before, is this the fashion of this place?"

[bymyheelies]

"Ay, I woke in clothes quite similar to this." His, of course, were much more suited for a Veronese summer, but that's beside the point. "The wardrobes here supply them, you might find most anything one might wish for."

[keep_the_peace]

"I would not know where to begin, it all looks so different from the fashions from home. Thou wilt have to help me."

[bymyheelies]

He waggles his eyebrows, smirking. "Fain, I would help thee whene'er thou liked."

[keep_the_peace]

"Go to," he says, giving Mercutio another playful little shove, and very carefully not blushing. He has gotten good at very carefully not blushing. "Couldst thou show me around, actually? I know not where anything is, aside from this table and -- no, actually, I doubt I could find the room I awoke in either, at this point."

[bymyheelies]

Mercutio will not go to, thank you very much, and instead leers playfully at Benvolio. "Ay, though 'twill be all a muddle next time thou lookest. The house likes to change things about, time to time."

[keep_the_peace]

"...What?"

[bymyheelies]

"I told thee, 'tis a very strange place. The house mainly keeps things in order, but not all the time."

[keep_the_peace]

"I shall take thy word for it," he says with a shrug. After all, if his slain friend can be suddenly alive again, why shouldn't rooms in a house move around? One thing is not more ridiculous than the other.

[bymyheelies]

He eyes Benvolio's clothing for a moment. "Thou'rt not dressed for snow," he says with a nod. "Art hungry? I could show thee the kitchens."

[keep_the_peace]

"Of course I'm not dressed for snow, 'twas not yet fully autumn last I checked." But he is a teenage boy, and therefore is nearly always hungry. "Aye, a meal might do me well."

[bymyheelies]

He nods and slings an arm around Benvolio's shoulders, headed towards the nearest kitchen. "As thou hast seen, this house is quite strange," he says cheerfully, pointing at the refrigerator. "That is a box where one might find food, things that are meant to be kept cold. 'Tis called a refrigerator."