(no subject)

[singlesoledjest.livejournal.com]

Mercutio really, really misses Verona right now. He misses the elaborate presepio in the Church, the flaming candlelight of Midnight Mass, the shepherds with their bagpipes. There is no Yule log in the fire, and la Befana will not visit here.

He is sitting on a stool, leaning on the Bar and quietly tracing patterns with his fingertips in a pool of spilt water. He did order a plate of baccalà and a slice of panettone, but it looks so pathetic next to his rose-tinted memories of tables groaning with food, the Prince's household all gathered around in one dining hall, smiling and shouting, preparing for twelve days of parties and dancing and feasting. He has abandoned it in favour of another apple.

In between bites of the green fruit, he is singing to himself, quietly, a song that was already very old when he was born.

"In Bethlehem is born the Holy Child,
On hay and straw in the winter wild;
O, my heart is full of mirth
At Jesus' birth."

He has not thought to look for presents, not for another twelve days.

Comments

[bloodyrockgod]

Charlie has been obnoxiously bouncy lately.

"Happy Christmas, Mercutio!" he says and swoops him into a hug.

[singlesoledjest.livejournal.com]

He's not averse to hugs ever, and he returns it with a smile.

"And to yourself, buon Natale." He kisses Charlie's cheek.

[bloodyrockgod]

"Thank you. Are you having a good day?" He pulls himself up onto a stool.

[singlesoledjest.livejournal.com]

"A little difficult."

He shrugs.

"Things are not done properly here."

A small smile.

[bloodyrockgod]

"Eh, they're done differently. Most of the modern traditions are borrowed from the Victorians, I believe. After your time."

[singlesoledjest.livejournal.com]

"Exactly. Not properly."

He grins.

"And I am stuck here, and I recognise very little of this as Christmas trappings."

[bloodyrockgod]

Charlie smirks, points, and says, "That's a tree."

[http://users.livejournal.com/_princeofcats_/]

Tybalt has not been crying. Tybalt never cries.

But y'know, he would also say that Mercutio is never a welcome sight, and that would just be a flat-out lie right now.

He quietly hums the next verse, ignoring the lump in his throat.

[singlesoledjest.livejournal.com]

Mercutio turns around, and sees him.

There is a nasty comment on his lips, but it dies. "Buon Natale. Baccalà?" He pushes the plate towards Tybalt, eyes slightly hesitant.

If Mercutio were ever hesitant, of course.

[http://users.livejournal.com/_princeofcats_/]

"Buon Natale."

He eyes the baccala. Oh, that looks good. But pride prevents him from taking anything from Mercutio...

...on any day other than Christmas, when he's lonely, and wants his family, wants to be laughing with his father and uncles and smiling across the table at Juliet, and Mercutio is the only tie he has to that.

He takes some. "My thanks."

[singlesoledjest.livejournal.com]

"My pleasure."

Mercutio nods his head, his politeness careful. Just for today, he doesn't want to drive Tybalt away.

"I..." He drums his fingers on the table, and retreats to safe territory. "I remember, thou us'd to loathe baccalà."

[http://users.livejournal.com/_princeofcats_/]

Tybalt shrugs and eats it anyway.

"In truth, I do. But all the other food I have seen around is strange." He hesitates, and takes a seat nearby, not too close, but close enough to talk.

[singlesoledjest.livejournal.com]

"I have panettone, also. And she - the Bar - will serve what you wish for."

[not-a-redshirt.livejournal.com]

There is a gentle kiss on his cheek, and a rectangular package placed in his lap.

"Merry Christmas."

[singlesoledjest.livejournal.com]

"What is this?"

He raises his eyebrows, beaming. Presents are always appreciated.

[not-a-redshirt.livejournal.com]

"A book. Open it and see."

He's nervous about it. He doesn't know if it'll upset Mercutio.

[singlesoledjest.livejournal.com]

He rips into the wrapping with glee, after taking a moment to admire it. The profligacy with which paper is used in Milliways continually astounds him

[not-a-redshirt.livejournal.com]

It's a fairly small book, more glossy picture-oriented, with text in Italian. It's a travel guide, of sorts--pictures and cheery explanations of all the attractions and gorgeous countryside of modern Italy.

He shrugs, hands in pockets. "I thought you might be interested in seeing what your country's like in my time," he says quietly.

[singlesoledjest.livejournal.com]

He squints at the text on the cover for a moment, before flipping through the book, pausing at a picture of the Colosseum in Rome.

"I can... I can read this. A little."

When he looks up, he looks a little like a lit candle, beaming.

[inquisitivehero]

A Santa-fied Hank McCoy wanders up to the stranger and smiles. he reaches into his bag and pulls out a small package and hands it over.

"Merry Christmas!"

Inside it a small device that shimmers. A card provided explains.

This is a phase lock. For one hour at a time, once a week, any non-corporeal entity wearing this, will be able to become fully solid as if alive, with all the feelign and sensation that any living mortal would have.

[singlesoledjest.livejournal.com]

"Buon Natale."

Mercutio blinks. Strangers handing him presents. He cannot read the card - it is not in Veronan - and he blinks curiously at the blue man in the red suit. He has never seen a Father Christmas before.

[inquisitivehero]

Hank smiles.

Hank glances at the card. Then eh nods.

"Can you spek English? I assume Bar has made soem allowance if you cannot?"

[singlesoledjest.livejournal.com]

"No, not very much."

He grins.

"But it seems to cause no impediment."

[inquisitivehero]

He nods.

"Well this is a phase lock, it says. And it can make intangible people tangible for one hour at a time, once a week, with all the feeling of the normal solid mortal state."

Hank eyes the other man...

"Are you intaingible most of the time?"

[singlesoledjest.livejournal.com]

"Oh, an excellent thing."

He beams.

"But why give gifts to those you do not know? I am Mercutio of Verona, by the by."

As an afterthought, he adds, "No, I can control my solidity. But it is still a useful trinket."