withoutverona: (battles over)
Romeo hadn’t checked his email in a few days. No particular reason; he just hadn’t felt like it, so he didn’t.

He started feeling guilty about that approximately three lines into Ino’s email. A world full of fire and ash.... It was how he pictured Hell.

"Yurika?" he called, still staring at the email like that would make the words change. "Do you have any messages from Ino?"

"Nani?" she asked, wandering out half-dressed as she brushed her hair. "Ino-san? Hai, but I hadn’t gotten a chance to read it yet. Why?"

He turned his laptop screen so she could see it, eyes wide and grim. "You ought to read this. Things have gone wrong on the island again."

Which was the simplest way he could put it, all things considered. "I know not if we should call or write or book the next portal."

Yurika’s brush clattered to the floor as she swore, quickly skimming the email before disappearing into the bedroom to grab her phone and pull up her email from Ino. "And why the fuck didn’t Reno call us?" she yelled as she read over Ino’s message. "Some friend he is!"

Romeo shrugged. "He must be all right. If he were hurt," he reasoned, "We would have heard. Wouldn’t we?"

He needed her to say yes. Needed to believe Ino would have told him if anything was wrong.

"Of course she would have. Reno’s just being inconsiderate, as usual," she grumbled. "Aho is probably checking on his students, instead of gossiping with his friends like he is supposed to do."

Reno of the Turks as a responsible adult. Their world was ending.

"Let’s email her back, nā?" Yurika set her phone down to hang over his shoulder. "I can be a little bit later for work, for Ino-chan."

"As if you have not been late every day this week to start with," Romeo teased, shifting to the side so she could see the keyboard. "I’ll start it."

email back here )

"Send!" Yurika crowed, leaning over him to steal control again. "There!" She gave him a peck on the cheek as an apology. "I’ve got to go, aijin, but text me if she calls you?"

"Of course," Romeo promised, turning his head so the peck would turn into a kiss.

If the kiss lingered a bit, could you blame him? His imagination was still on the world of ash and fire.

"And let me know if you decide to call Reno to yell at him."

"Text messages," she replied brightly, an evil glint to her eyes. "Angry, vulgar, accurate messages, in Japanese, so he has to ask Ino or Tseng to translate." And get laughed at in the process. "I’ll give him your love, of course."

[OOC: Co-written with the beautiful [livejournal.com profile] dojima_hime. Open for calls/texts/utterly random visits.]
withoutverona: (emo on the beach)
The water was colder than it ever was in Verona, but there was still an ocean in Fandom and it felt right for Romeo and Mercutio to end up beside it. If Romeo squinted just right, he could almost pretend he was back in Verona and 16 again, enjoying the last simple days he'd ever know.

He'd called Reno, of course. It only felt right for Reno and Mercutio to meet, even if he was going to have to translate every other sentence they exchanged. He assumed it would turn into jokes at his expense sooner or later; he was just grateful they'd have the chance.

Meeting of like minds, behind the cut! )

[OOC: NFI. Preplayed with the amazing [livejournal.com profile] raspberryturk and [livejournal.com profile] brat_intraining.]
withoutverona: (shh they're sleeping)
It wasn't new for Romeo to dream about Mercutio. He'd been having the dreams a few times a month for three years now, and they were always worse in July.

What was new was that these weren't the simple heart-wrenching dreams of Mercutio's last moments, his fall, the curse he'd placed. They weren't even the sweeter, rarer dreams of a living Mercutio summoning him for some revelry.

No, this was a dream of Mercutio lounging on the beach in Fandom, skin dark against the white sand. Romeo felt warmed by his very presence, and Mercutio opened his eyes to speak with the force of revelation: If you dream me, I will come.

Suddenly, Romeo's planned weekend trip to Fandom took on more urgency. Perhaps he could leave in the morning. He went online to Portalocity as soon as he woke up, trying to track down fares.

[OOC: Open for calls, or for she who lives there.]
withoutverona: (white t-shirt)
Yurika was working tonight, again, and Romeo had gone out on the general theory he could only read so much about global finances before studying became counterproductive.

A few drinks later, he ended up in a hostess club, making animated conversation with the pretty Ukranian girl who kept trying to convince him to order more expensive drinks. (She succeeded more often than not, Romeo and willpower not having much more than a nodding acquaintance.) Somehow, they started talking about high school.

She discreetly found a way to cut him off when he started telling zombie invasion stories. It seemed like some things were too strange even for paid companionship.

Romeo scowled at his beer. Some nights he really missed Fandom; it would be a relief to be back there at the end of the week.

[OOC: Open to anybody who wants to bother a mildly inebriated Shakesperean. He has his phone and everything.]
withoutverona: (Default)
In honor of the double occasion of Valentine's Day and his two-year anniversary, Romeo had tried to find the absolute best restaurant in Tokyo.

He'd quickly given up on that, and had settled for a reservation for a very good room at a very nice hotel. The in-room table was covered in room service trays, and there were roses in every possible nook.

Never let it be said that Romeo didn't do romantic holidays with a vengeance.

He checked his suit in the mirror one last time and sat to wait for Yurika.

Yurika, for her part.... )

[OOC: Preplayed with the gorgeous [livejournal.com profile] dojima_hime. NFB, NFI, OOC = win.]
withoutverona: (B+ W grin)
After stopping at the brunch, Romeo made his way to a bar where it seemed vaguely possible the more medieval members of their party would either fit in, or have enough Guinness that it didn't matter.

"Is this all right?" he asked, more as a point of courtesy than because he actually had any interest in going anywhere else. He was feeling lazy and self-satisfied.

[OOC; For those who know who they are.]
withoutverona: (all stubbly and grrrr)
Romeo's nineteenth birthday started with a package from his father containing a collection of Lord Byron's works, a dagger that was about twice as elaborate as anything Romeo had any business carrying, and a letter that suggested -- in a polite, backhanded, and elaborate way -- that Romeo was missed and should make it his business to visit Verona sooner rather than later.

There was also a large box of chocolates. They were good. Romeo ate the caramels as his breakfast. He should have been reading about the equilibrium point in supply and demand, but that kept turning into perusal of the poetry. Really, the poetry struck him as more relevant.

[OOC: For the girlfriend, or for birthday emails/calls/texts/homing pigeons.]
withoutverona: (reading)
Romeo's college required he take a business ethics course. It wasn't such a bad idea, really. In Verona, showing up with a few bodyguards and asking pointed questions about how attached a rival was to his cars was considered a reasonable opening salvo. He flipped through the text with a highlighter in hand, occasionally shooting worried glances at the door.

Yurika wasn't saying anything, but he could tell something at work was troubling her. A friend had died; that was as much as she'd told him, and that was worry enough.

He reread the passage on ethical hiring practices and hoped she'd be home soon.

[OOC: For the hime and calls/emails/texts.]
withoutverona: (white t-shirt)
Romeo wasn't a girl anymore, and Monday meant that Yurika's need to at least put in a guest appearance at her office put an end to their Romeo-isn't-a-girl-anymore celebrations.

So he'd gotten out of bed, gone to the bookstore to get his textbooks, stopped at a noodle bar for lunch, and was now back home. There was nothing on television except a cartoon about pixies who solved teenager's romantic problems, and that was a little sappy even for Romeo. He turned the TV off and started copying kanji out of his beginner's penmanship book.

He had lovely handwriting when he was writing English. The problem was getting that to carry over.

[OOC: Open for phone calls, texts, girlfriends who may wander home, etc.]
withoutverona: (* wedding ring)
Wrapped snug on a futon in their new apartment in Tokyo and with nothing particular calling him into the day, Romeo could have slept the day away if it hadn't been for the singing.

...close my eyes and the flashback starts
I'm standing there
On a balcony in summer air

See the lights, see the party, the ball gowns
I see you make your way through the crowd
and say hello


A girl's voice -- and not, though he loved the sound of it, Yurika's -- was coming from the spare bedroom. Romeo yanked on a t-shirt and carefully crept toward the song. "Who is there," he asked from the doorway, "and wherefore?"

The young woman who turned to see him was exceptionally beautiful, with flowing blonde ringlets. She balanced a guitar on her lap. "Oh, Romeo, thou hast found me!" she said, as if she'd known him for years. She launched herself at him reaching for his left hand. "I half thought myself forgotten, shut as I was in this dreary room. Now I see thine love lives on and hast drawn thee to me."

Romeo, very intelligently, stared. "Who art thee?" he asked, slipping into his old tongue and ignoring the persistent tug on his hand. "I can tell thou art of Verona, yet I know you not."

The girl's laugh was of silver and bells. "Of course thou knowest me. I am the wedding ring thou set to the side for so long, given this happy shape so I might bring a song to you." She held up her wrist to show a bracelet tattoo of rough crosses with 'Romeo + Juliet' tattooed underneath. "Thou cannot have forgotten me."

As the girl talked on -- and, somehow, Romeo found himself believing the story -- he winced. This was going to be an interesting one to explain to Yurika.

[OOC: Open for SP/phone calls/what have you! And yes, I'm earworming you. Mwah ha ha.]
withoutverona: (not ashamed)
And so it was that after a good party, a last bout in the Salle, a frantic trip to the post office to send off most of his boxes (and why was overnight, cross-universe shipping to Tokyo so expensive? It was a good thing Romeo didn't care about money or he'd be rather peeved), a quick visit to the church where he never spent nearly as much time as he should, and a last mocha with extra chocolate sauce at the Perk, Romeo Montague came to wait for the portal that would take Yurika and him off to Tokyo.

He shifted his bags hand to hand a little impatiently. Mostly, he wanted all of this goodbying to be over. He'd miss everyone; he knew that. But having so many last things was wearing on him.

Homecoming wasn't so very far away, was it?

[Last post in Fandom for Romeo & Dojima! [livejournal.com profile] dojima_hime modded with permission. If you want a call inviting you to come see one or both of them off, well, you got it!]
withoutverona: (romeo romeo!)
It had been an interesting night last night in the common room, and a more interesting morning on the roof. The island was playing with Romeo's hormones, Ender said; Romeo wasn't honestly sure he would have figured out anything was especially wrong without that discussion.

For now, he was going to lie back on his bed with his journal, and will very hard that his girlfriend psychically sense his, ahem, time of need before he'd filled the whole thing with the sorts of odes to girls' hair he thought he had outgrown years before.

[OOC: For one, please! And NWS. I know, you're stunned.]
withoutverona: (Greetings from Verona)
Reno, Romeo thought wryly as he took a seat in one of the plush chairs in his father's office, could be trusted with many things. They included Romeo's life; it also included finding the best bar wherever he happened to be. The dive they'd ended up in after dinner the night before was down a street Romeo had never even noticed in the 17 years he spent in Verona, and the one-handed bartender was not stingy with the whiskey.

Romeo still felt it, more than a little. He shifted in his seat and tried to focus on his father. Reno, spared this particular display of family awkwardness, had taken Balthazar and Benvolio to the same bar; Romeo tried not to wish he was with them.

How does this day find thee, my son? )

He didn't know which would win.

[OOC: NFB. Reno modded with permission. Happy birthday, Mr. Shakespeare.]
withoutverona: (Greetings from Verona)
As soon as he could escape from his Heroing final, Romeo dashed back to his room to pick up his overnight bag, then went to the causeway to wait for Reno and their portal back to Verona Beach. He couldn't help but pace a little nervously; not only did he have his concerns about what his father would have to say, but he wanted Reno to like his home.

And, he thought ruefully, he wanted his home -- because Verona was home, even if he lived in Fandom or Tokyo all the rest of his life -- to appreciate Reno.

[OOC: For the person going with him.]
withoutverona: (writing)
Romeo was done putting together his bag for his trip to Verona, and now he was sitting on his bed, frowning at the rest of his room a bit.

He was seeing it clearly, now; the room was all but brimming with sixteen months worth of books and papers and clothes and the odd bit of rubbish that had never quite made it into a bin. When Teyla lived there, he'd been neater about his things, but now that she didn't he only had to be tidy enough that Dojima wouldn't flee screaming when she visited.

And, soon enough, it would all need to be boxed up and discarded, sent home to Verona, or shipped off to Tokyo.

He thought about doing some of the organizing tonight, but, ultimately, settled in with his journal. There were things on his mind.

[OOC: Open door -- I just felt like posting him]
withoutverona: (shh they're sleeping)
Inside the hotel room, Romeo and Yurika slept the sleep of those with quiet(-ish) minds, aided by everclear in the punch and certain ... other ... get-to-sleep activities. In the midst of a dream, Romeo brought his hand to rest on the small of Yurika's back; that was as much movement as there was inside the room.

Outside the hotel room, a small blond boy and an even smaller blond girl were poking at the hotel room door and chattering in an excited mix of English and Japanese.

"Hana, remember, I showed you how to pick this kind of lock!" Kazuki Montague informed his sister. "You poke the pin, and you just jiggle."

Hana watched with wide eyes and fingers in her mouth. She was only three, and thought her eight-year-old brother was about the smartest person in the world.

As Kaz kept trying to pick the lock, his putative parents slept on. Kaz knew they'd be so surprised to see him again.

[OOC: For [livejournal.com profile] dojima_hime and for SP.]
withoutverona: (extreme woe!)
The day was yet young, but Romeo felt much older than he had been at dawn as he returned to his room, not bothering to close the door behind him.

Reno. Dojima. Gone to him, almost as surely as Mercutio or Juliet were. He badly wanted to break his promise to Arthur and go out alone again to kill or to be killed. It was much the same to him.

Friar Laurence's voice rose through his mind. Thy noble shape is but a form of wax, digressing from the valour of a man ... A pack of blessings lights up upon thy back.

He felt no pack of blessings just then, but he did need to be a man. Or to try. Somehow. Letting himself be taken would be of no use to anyone; he had to center himself on that fact, as badly as everything in him shouted that the sleep of death or undeath would be but a relief.

After making a single phone call -- she needed to know, and he kept his words simple so he wouldn't choke on them and give himself away -- he settled back on his bed and permitted himself the unmanly luxury of tears.

He was still crying when his phone rang.

[OOC: Mostly establishy, but his door is open.]
withoutverona: (emo on the beach)
Romeo had, it was true, said several times yesterday that he wouldn't go looking for a fight.

And he wasn't. Honest. But it was a rainy day, and there was a particular and rather inaccessible corner of the beach that he liked especially well when he was trying to write. He couldn't imagine many zombies would be out yet; if they were, he was armed.

Sitting on a rock, he stared moodily into the ocean and thought about death that was not death.

[OOC: For two zombies in particular and then someone else. Thanks!]
withoutverona: (just woke up)
The weekend had been kind to young master Montague. There had been mud fights and muffins and even two birthday parties. And, when it got quite terribly late -- 9 o'clock at least -- he drifted back to his room with Yurika by the hand. They watched cartoons until they fell asleep on the bed like a pair of puppies, TV still droning away.

When Romeo first woke up on Monday, it took him a moment to feel as if anything beyond gratitude to be his proper size again, followed by annoyance at the grit of mud behind his ears and in other places his five-year-old self had forgotten to wash. He'd seen that shock of blonde hair in the morning many times.

Then he realized he hadn't so much, lately. Drawing away to get a better look, he held his breath. He was going to savor these moments until she (perhaps inevitably, he thought) made her excuses and left him alone again -- or at least tried to.

[OOC: For the taller and modded-with-permission birthday princess. Also, he's very unlikely to get around to opening Pixie Dust today -- drop me an email if you have a desperate need to shop there and we'll work something out. Also, going NWS because reunion sex is awesome.]

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withoutverona: (Default)
Romeo Montague

August 2012

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