withoutverona: (Watching fishies)
Romeo blinked himself into alertness early, shaking off a dream in which Mercutio performed a frantic can-can, and was almost surprised when he realized there was another warm body in the bed.

Surprised, perhaps, but far from displeased. After his shift at Pixie Dust, he and Yurika had spent a lovely if handwavey evening together -- one that had ended, late, here in his room, the cost of maintaining separate beds for the night far more dear than that of explaining themselves to his roommate.

He nuzzled into Yurika's hair, wondering if he could feign sleep so well that it came to court him again. But no; he was too happy, he needed to move or he would surely jostle her awake.

And Teyla certainly deserved a bribe for so stoically putting up with the overnight guest.

Dropping a kiss on Yurika's forehead, he gently disentangled their limbs to roll out of bed, then found clothes, shoes and his jacket. He'd steal into town and return with breakfast for all before he needed to be in class.

As he'd be gone such a short time, he didn't leave a note before heading off.

[OOC: For the others in the room. Dojima modded with permission. Up early because I am.]
withoutverona: (smoking so beautiful)
It was a cold day, and quiet on the beach, but anyone out for a walk might notice a blond seated on a rock, hugging himself as he stared at the water. A pen and notepad were by his side, but he wasn't actually writing anything.

The last few days couldn't be real. Him, a con man named Frank? It must be some kind of delusion caused by drinking too much during I Never, the foul game. (Which reminded him, he might do well to talk to Inara again.)

And if it wasn't real, it mean he hadn't emptied his bank account and gotten his wallet stolen, and he feared what his father would have to say about that. And he certainly hadn't called Master Skywalker "Pal" or Teyla "sweetie", flirted with two cute sisters (though he had a hard time regretting that one too much, despite his dead wife), gotten drunk with someone from a ship that sank 90 years before, learned way too much about the entertainment industry, or rambled on to Amber about it being 1966.

And no way, no way, had he gotten his life threatened over a mere $300, let alone been enough of a coward to turn and run.

Of course, if it wasn't real, that didn't explain the pilot's cap that had been in his coat pocket that morning. With a final glance at the waves and the sad realization he was past due at work, Romeo stood and walked back to town.

[OOC: Open if you're on the beach, I guess.]
withoutverona: (shh they're sleeping)
Romeo Montague was having the oddest dream. Andrew tried to sell him a potion to take away strange bloating and moodiness. "'Twill taste like peanut-butter brownies!," he promised, while a girl astride a dragon nodded her agreement. Romeo took a brownie and wandered off, to be met by a statue of Apollo, who handed him a chisel and begged him to make the unkindest cut of all. Gobsmacked by this even in a dream, Romeo stood there ... and the floor melted into a Slip-n-Slide covered in chocolate. Rikku waved goodbye, a little sadly, as he sped toward a distant wall.

And as he slid, Friar Laurence grabbed at him, hauling him off his path. "So this is how you mourn?" he asked, with eyes clear and angry. "This is how you mourn."

He woke up gasping for breath.

[OOC: Closed unless Teyla wants to comment.]


withoutverona: (Default)
Romeo Montague

August 2012

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