open: the very pin of his heart cleft with the blind bow boy's butt shaft

[bymyheelies]

For those that care to spend time with Mercutio; they may note that today he is conspicuously hard to find. He is still reeling from the recent news of Romeo's fate at the end of their story, and not entirely sure how to proceed with it. Ideally, at home, he would find some way to take his mind off of pressing matters: spend time with his friends (friend, now, singular) or find someone entertaining to harass about the town and make merry. If he was in a particularly snappish mood he would invariably end up picking a fight with Capulets, one in particular.

That is not the case today. Someone attuned to the general sounds of the mansion might hear a steady sort of thunking noise coming from an out-of-the-way bar. It is there that Mercutio can be found, various bottles of alcohol open at his side. He has clearly been there some time by the looks of it, and is currently engrossed in throwing a small selection of daggers at the wall. Despite his intoxication, he is doing a reasonably good job at it; but judging from the stormy look on his face, he does not entirely wish to be bothered.

Comments

[temnota]

There was something definitely the matter but Aleksander was fairly sure that Mercutio not only did not want to talk about it but would resist any attempts to draw him out. So he looked through the cupboard until he found a bottle of kvass and poured himself a glass.

"I see that," he said easily. "I am impressed. Where did you learn that?"

[wickedwit]

"Looking for bad ideas, I see." Claudius leans in the doorway, eying Mercutio over with his collection of opened bottles and daggers. They probably oughtn't be combined, but Claudius is hardly a man to stop him. "Shall I ask what inspired this?"

[bymyheelies]

"Were you?" It's half-teasing, though he's clearly not much in the mood for it.

[futaille]

"Certainly. A rare event."

[bymyheelies]

That is in fact the case, yes. "He was loyal," he says, determinedly ignoring the pang that came to his chest at his use of the past tense. "Ay, loyal and funny and brave and charming, when it suited him; he and I could take each other word for word when we had a mind to it." He pauses, considering this for a moment or two. "I loved him," he says, plainly. "As a brother, as a friend. He was easy to love."

[bymyheelies]

"Ay, well--" He shrugs. "I would fight, at home, in a mood like this; but there is no one so pleasing to fight with here."

[tallyyoungblood]

Tally's eyes get huge. She's glad, more than ever, that Shay and Peris and even David are alive back home.

"He sounds bubbly. You're a good friend, to remember him so well. Um. Just tell me if I'm being totally missing, but do you want a hug?" Tally bites her lip.

[bymyheelies]

He shrugs, sharp and slightly irritated. "At home, my lord."

[bymyheelies]

He gives another shrug. "I had news from home."

[bymyheelies]

"You could, ay," he replies, turning to eye Claudius speculatively. "Would I tell thee? That remains to be seen."

[sagramore]

"What news?" He's prodding, absolutely, gentle but insistent.

[greentara]

If he was older and more sober, Constance would consider offering to fight him to maintain her paranza corta skills -- but he is neither. She eyes him. "What do you say to a knife throwing competition?"

[temnota]

Aleksander nodded then took a sip as he considered his next step. "It has occurred to me that you owe me a lesson. Not necessarily now, of course, but sometime soon maybe."

[bymyheelies]

"Oh, art thou so argumentative?"

[futaille]

"Quibbling is in my nature."

[bymyheelies]

"I..." He sighs, and sets his bottle to the side with a nod. "...Yes. Please."

[tallyyoungblood]

Tally hugs him. He's shorter than even Gideon, so his hair tickles her chin. Up close, he smells kind of good, if she discounts all the alcohol.

[bymyheelies]

He raises an eyebrow. "You know how to throw knives?" He'd expected that from Tally, of course, but this young lady does not look the type.

[bymyheelies]

"Do I? I had forgotten."

[bymyheelies]

Mercutio raises an eyebrow. Sagramore may not be quite as much of an open book as Dionysus is, but he is clever enough to know prodding when he sees it. But he's in no mood to draw this out. "Romeo is dead," he says flatly, turning to stare at the wall full of knives in front of them.

[sagramore]

"Your--" He searches his memory and gets something from Dionysus' party. "Your friend from back home?"

[greentara]

Constance remains silent and also raises an eyebrow in return. Would she have suggested one if she did not know how to throw knives?

[bymyheelies]

“Thank you,” he says to her shoulder, quiet and unwilling to admit he’s clinging a little. He still wants to do something; to go fight someone or annoy someone or just —work his emotions out, but the ache has subsided a little.

[bymyheelies]

“Ay, one of them. The foolish one.”

[sagramore]

"I'm sorry. That's a hard thing."