closed: let them measure us by what they will

[bymyheelies]

Mercutio has always been fond of fashion. Specifically -- sparkly, colorful things, things his father would call gaudy or womanish. It is no wonder that arriving here was like a revelation, free to wear what he pleased and feel no judgment for it, whether it be a sparkly floor-length gown with fishnets and combat boots or a ratty Iron Maiden t-shirt and jeans. It is time, he has decided, that Benvolio gets to discover all this as well. Will he give Benvolio a choice in this? It is quite unlikely.

Therefore, it should be no surprise¹ to Benvolio that Mercutio appears at his door one morning, looking intent and not at all like he's mildly singed any eyebrows recently or anything like that. "Ho, art thou up?"

¹ Doubtful. Mercutio is always surprisingly chaotic, that's one of his charms.

Comments

[bymyheelies]

"Thou shalt turn into one if thou liest abed all day." So saying, he pushes himself up and tugs Benvolio towards the closet. "Here."

[keep_the_peace]

"And how long hadst thou been awake, before coming to get me today? Twelve minutes? --Thou wilt have to dress me, thou knowest I am not even skilled at selecting clothing from home, let alone fashions I am unfamiliar with entirely."

[bymyheelies]

"Ay, I shall take pity on thee." There is another slight jump in his stomach, very akin to one he had a few days ago during a discussion with Benvolio and Claudius, but he is staunchly ignoring it. He's certainly never considered such things in more private hours.

...In any case, he continues to ignore such thoughts and throws the closet doors open, gesturing grandly towards them. "Wouldst like me to choose something?"

[keep_the_peace]

There's suddenly way more clothes in the closet than there ever has been when Benvolio has opened it himself. He is sure he will never get used to the magic of this place. Not that he minds it, of course. He's rather thankful for it, in fact, for multiple reasons (mostly just one). "Ay, please."

[bymyheelies]

He hums softly under his breath and inspects the clothes, glancing to Benvolio from time to time. Eventually, after much hemming and hawing, he chooses a silky green button-up with black trousers, and brings them over to the bed.

"Dost like it? I could find thee something in black, if that is thy wish."

[keep_the_peace]

It seems so... flimsy to him. Shouldn't an outfit have more structure to it than this? "Nay, I -- I suppose it alright to wear some color again..." He stares at the outfit though. "What goes underneath?" Surely not the same cut of shirt he's used to from home, it would stick out in a weird way, he thinks.

[bymyheelies]

"Oh--" he blinks a little. "Couldst wear an undershirt, I suppose, if thou must." Mercutio's outfit of choice today is just some holey jeans with fishnets underneath and a t-shirt.

[keep_the_peace]

"Should I? Thou knowest how these clothes work more than I."

[bymyheelies]

"If thou likest. 'Tis not necessary." Personally, he wouldn't, but Mercutio doesn't mind showing a little skin. He hesitates a moment, then turns back to the closet and finds some underwear. "Here. These go under the --" he waves a hand at the pants. "Thy trousers."

[keep_the_peace]

He stares at the underwear and quickly realizes how it would be necessary, since the concept of wearing a shirt under your clothes (and therefore tucked around your thighs) seems to not exist with this style of clothing. "Very well," he says, and slips them on under his nightshirt.

[bymyheelies]

Thank God, he doesn't have to explain that. He didn't think he would need to, but even so. "Wouldst like -- something underneath thy shirt, as well? For myself, I would not, but I might find one for thee." He's carefully keeping his attention focused on the closet, here.

[keep_the_peace]

"An thou wouldst not mind. I may try it with and without, and see how I prefer it best."

[bymyheelies]

"Ay, of course." So he reaches back into the closet to find a black undershirt, and offers it. "Thou must...ah, pull it on over thy head, 'tis simple enough."

[keep_the_peace]

He gives Mercutio a look. "I would have been able to figure as much out on my own, having worn shirts before." This isn't as voluminous as shirts he is used to, and it's missing sleeves, but like, it's still a shirt?

[bymyheelies]

He shrugs. “Thy trousers are like hose, but less tightly fitted,” he goes on, still resolutely facing the closet in order to give Benvolio time to dress. Or perhaps it’s just so Benvolio won’t see how much he’s blushing.

“There are still hose, or things like it,” he adds, glancing back and motioning to his own fishnets peeking through the holes in his jeans. “If thou wishest,” he says, clearing his throat a little to banish the thought of Benvolio in fishnets from his brain.

[keep_the_peace]

He swaps his nightshirt for the undershirt Mercutio handed him, then glances over to the Fishnet Display^TM as he picks up the green button up. “I did notice thy net, does it not… feel strange?” He thinks it seems uncomfortable to have a net around your legs all day. “Does this garment stay on top, or do I put the trousers over it?”

[bymyheelies]

“Not half as strange as some things,” he says lightly, electing to spare the revelations of padding out breasts and hips from Benvolio for now. “I am used to it.” Now that he knows the other is mostly decent, he turns, grinning. “If it is too long, thou might tuck it in; but see how it feels first.”

[keep_the_peace]

He gets the shirt on, then walks over to the mirror his room seems to have provided all on its own overnight. He frowns. It looks so... lifeless and limp on him. He's pretty sure that's only partially the fault of the clothes themselves, and partially his fault for being bad at wearing clothes.

[bymyheelies]

"What?" Mercutio comes over and frowns too, plucking at the sleeves. "I do like the color, but -- mayhap not? What would suit thee?"

[keep_the_peace]

"The color is fine. I am just not used to such things..." He fiddles with the hem of the shirt. "What thinkest thou?"

[bymyheelies]

“I think—“ —That he would like to slip that shirt off Benvolio’s shoulders, the fabric looks so fine and slippery —he clears his throat. “Erm. I think thou lookest a very fine portrait. Mayhap something less formal, though?” He’s not certain if this counts as formal; but really he means something more like what he’s wearing.

[keep_the_peace]

Benvolio looks back at the outfit in his reflection. This is considered formal? “The future is a strange place indeed,” he says before looking back at Mercutio again. “Ay, I think less formal will suit better. I have no need to be formal today.”

[bymyheelies]

He waves a hand at the closet. “Go and find, then, all you must do is imagine what thou likest and it will show up.”

[keep_the_peace]

That’s just the problem, Mercutio, he doesn’t really know what people here wear to begin imagining up something! But he resigns himself to the task and heads back to the closet, hoping the magic inside it will take pity on him, or something. He digs around, eventually emerging with a pair of black skinny jeans with holes made in them (it seems odd, but Mercutio has on some with holes too so maybe it’s, like, a fashion thing?), a black and green plaid shirt (that it is the same color Mercutio selected for him is clearly a coincidence, and definitely not his subconscious causing the mansion to create it, or anything), and a black zip up hoodie. He saw someone wearing a hoodie before and thought it looked comfortable, and he has already learned that zippers are a nice invention for clothes, so that seemed a natural choice.

“Would this be fine together?”

[bymyheelies]

The answer is 'whatever they like', which he would see proof of if he looked in Mercutio's closet. Alas, they are not in Mercutio's room, however, and he nods approvingly.

"Ay, it looks fine to me. Comfortable, and thou wilt want warmth right now."