milliways_bar | (no subject)

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Mercutio is cooler than you, and you, and you. In fact, he's cooler than all of you. AHAHAHA!

He doesn't look awe-inspiringly cool at the moment, though. In fact, he looks kind of amusing. He's on the rug in front of the fire, curled right around with his head on his arm, still reading the Italian guidebook, sounding out the words as he goes, with a contemplative frown.

He'll squeak if you poke him.

[ooc: i have three essays to write tonight. so this entrance post is going to be live for... a very long while.]

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"Aye."

He puffs a bit of hair out of his eyes.

"No matter. As you say, it is about death. And the joy of death."

Brian tilts his head to one side.

"Um. Joy?"

"Of others' death."

He is very firm on that point.

"Hunh."

He's chewing on his lip again.

"Humungenormous hippy, dude. So. Not so much over here."

"It is a basic part of every man." Such confidence, for a twenty-three-year-old.

He raises his eyebrows.

"Hippy?"

"Hippy."

He grins.

"Like... loving the earth, doing bit for mankind, entirely too fond of the green. Excuse to shop in charity shops and wear whatever the hell I want."

He tugs on the enormous shapeless jumper he's wearing currently.

"This marvellous article's made outta llamas."

"Who does not love the earth? She is our mother."

He strokes the jumper with a finger.

"Llamas seem to be soft."

"...yep. Soft."

He's grinning up at the ceiling. Doesn't matter why. Shaddup.

"She's a mother alright. And people do the whole poisoning thing, which I am so not behind, y'know? It's... I dunno. Dishonest."

He keeps stroking the wool, absently, rolling onto his front and propping his head up with one arm.

"Poisoning?"

"Poisoning. Like, dumping shit in rivers, and killing trees, y'know? It's unnecessary and it's death by degrees and it makes me antsy, and I don't want to talk about it. Enough of that at all the protests."

"I don't know, no."

He frowns.

"But if you wish not to think on't, no matter."

He traces a swirly pattern on the llama wool.

Brian lazily grabs at Mercutio's fingers.

"I wish to think of other things. Shoes and ships and sealing wax and cabbages and kings."

He grins.

"Dude, I totally spent so long trying to figure out why the hell people wanted to put wax on the ceiling."

It takes Mercutio a moment to think that one out, and then he laughs, and twists his fingers free of Brian's in order to poke him.

"I can talk on all of those. Choose."

He stretches.

"Where you been on a boat? Are they, like, wooden ship things? With all the pulling of ropes and illegal sodomy and shit?"

That gets another poke.

"I was sick much of the time. There was sodomy, occasionally, aye."

Honeyed smile.

"...hunh."

Brian's silent for... a pretty long time, actually. For him.

"What's it like?"

Mercutio rolls onto his back and laces his fingers behind his head, careful not to poke Brian in the eye with an elbow.

"Sex? Sodomy? Pleasurable. Very. If done right."

"Hunh."

It seems to be his response of choice.

"I guess everything is. If done right."

"Are you a virgin?"

He stretches. His voice is curious. Tact? Huh?

"I had sex!"

He sounds... kinda outraged. Which could be because it was just once. With a very nice girl from Uni, who was entirely too nice to let him know that she already had a boyfriend. Hunh.

He knows that tone of voice. He might be smirking slightly.

"I sounded like that when I was teased at... thirteen summers? The question is, more than once?"

One of Brian's long arms is across his eyes.

"...Shaddup."

"It is a great shame, someone so pretty as yourself."

He rolls onto his front again, a sudden movement.

"A crime, in fact."

"Again, with the shaddup."

Brian is not so good with the teasing.

He laughs.

"I merely speak truth. I cannot imagine you have had no offers."