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

[sagramore]

"Of course. I know how thou didst."

[bymyheelies]

He shrugs, and -- it's probably a good thing that Sagramore has taken him away from the alcohol, really. He takes another sip of water as a substitution, but he's not exactly pleased about it.

[sagramore]

"I've done that, know thou. Put myself in harm's way, done my best to see whether there's anyone who'll call the bluff. It's not something one does when one's happy."

[bymyheelies]

He takes another sip of his water and settles back in his chair, arching an eyebrow as he tips back on the back legs. "I am not happy at the moment," he agrees, knowing full well that's not what Sagramore was getting at.

[sagramore]

"And?" quietly.

[bymyheelies]

“What else am I meant to say? It cannot be fixed.”

[sagramore]

"Does it anger thee?"

[bymyheelies]

“Romeo being a fool angers me. Mayhap I should have expected it.”

[sagramore]

This time he waits again, though he takes a seat at the table with Mercutio.

[bymyheelies]

He sighs and continues cutting up his pancakes. They’re probably in incredibly small pieces at this rate; but he does intend on eating them at some point at least.

[sagramore]

"Eat," Sagramore says. "Or thy head will ache worse tomorrow."

[bymyheelies]

"I am eating," he says a tad sulkily, and proceeds to eat a few more bites.

[sagramore]

"Very good," with a touch of amusement. "Don't stop."

[bymyheelies]

"Ay, ay, I know." He takes another few bites.

[sagramore]

"Thou art a good lad," gentler.

[bymyheelies]

He purses his lips. "'Tis not so. I am a knave, knowest thou, a froward villain who does not know when to shut his mouth."

[sagramore]

"Oh, of course. A whoreson knave."

[bymyheelies]

“Fie, sir, my mother was a lady.” He’s…at least attempting good spirits; even if he is not exactly in them.

[sagramore]

"Then it was thy father's honor I was besmirching," easily. "Less banter, more pancakes."

[bymyheelies]

"As you should, he is an awful man." He pokes at his food a little more. "I did just say I do not know when to shut my mouth," he adds, half-teasing.

[sagramore]

"That makes two of us," with a little grin.

[bymyheelies]

"Then I shall continue bantering, just to spite thee." At least he's ...somewhat cheering up. Enough to tease, anyhow.

[sagramore]

"Very well," affecting a put-upon air. "I'll just have to withstand it."