withoutverona: (battles over)
Some people get to live long lives.

Some don't.

Even with an extra hundred years, Romeo did not.

It wasn't a bad life, though, nor one that made him more unhappy than he would have made himself anywhere. It ended on a battlefield somewhere in Europe, on March 15, 1918.

Romeo was either 36, or 72 years from being born.

He wasn't supposed to be armed ... )

[OOC: And the ironic thing is his birthday is armistice day. NFB, NFI, OOC = pie, my apologies for the spammage.]
withoutverona: (Montague)
It had been three hard days of travel, and Romeo had sold near everything save his clothing and his gun to raise the costs of the trip, desperately hoping he would do something that was worth it. He wasn't sure how, but somehow everyone in Italy could tell he was an outsider, and charged him correspondingly higher prices. And then there had been the confusion over who, exactly, he wanted. Montague, it turned out, was French, an Ellis Island change; the family name in Italy was Montecchi.

After all of it, though, Romeo was here at what he assumed had to be his great-great-grandfather's home. He squinted at it; it seemed awfully ... small, smaller than he had imagined, and there was a pen of squealing pigs right next to the stucco farmhouse. Nothing smelled terribly good.

But all greatness starts somewhere, and Romeo had to assume this was where part of his family's story started. Tentatively, he knocked on the wooden front door.

Cut for preplay )

[OOC: NFB, NFI, and a very special thanks to [livejournal.com profile] the_merriest for being my Angelo. OOC = love.]
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: (Default)
Romeo Montague

August 2012

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