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Post by Tiger on Apr 17, 2010 20:21:39 GMT -5
"Tut, dun's the mouse," Francis added, not missing a beat with this opportunity to make a pun. "The constable's own word: If thou art dun, we'll draw thee from the mire of this sir-reverence love, wherein thou stick'st up to the ears. Come, we burn daylight, ho!" He flicked his hand forward, beckoning the group forward.
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Post by Jimmeh on Apr 17, 2010 21:27:19 GMT -5
"Nay, that's not so," Arthur snapped. His patience had waned to barely a sliver now. He was particularly irritated since he knew Francis's constant teasing of the Briton's hopeless romanticism was true--at the time, he was convinced he would spend his life waiting for the rare chance of love. Matthew's introversion and Francis's attractiveness was no aid to this. [/color]
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Post by Tiger on Apr 17, 2010 21:37:28 GMT -5
Francis frowned, transforming his face into the romantic pout that he so often used to make his prey swoon. Although that was not his intention at the moment, the muscle memory could not be helped. "I mean, sir, in delay we waste our lights in vain, like lamps by day. Take our good meaning, for our judgment sits five times in that ere once in our five wits."
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Post by Jimmeh on Apr 18, 2010 8:36:39 GMT -5
"And we mean well in going to this masque, but 'tis no wit to go." He uncrossed his arms and let them fall to his sides, nearly angry with himself for taking things too seriously. He feared the worst for attending the masquerade--certainly a handful of Capulets around. Perhaps they didn't want any trouble, he thought in a struggle to act optimistic. [/size][/color]
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Post by Tiger on Apr 18, 2010 14:54:31 GMT -5
"Why, may one ask?" Unlike Arthur, Francis was looking forward to the ball, if only because it was a great opportunity for him to showcase his flair for flirting. He could not understand why the fete would be anything but a blast. Of course, he did not need to worry as much about the Capulet threat; he actually belonged to the ruling house of the city but his closest friends were both Montagues.
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Post by Jimmeh on Apr 18, 2010 17:33:59 GMT -5
"I dreamt a dream tonight," he admitted quietly, and fell into step with the both of them. Part of him feared the new topic would end in ridicule, but perhaps Matthew would at least listen, but definitely could not be expected to reply. He was far too shy for that. [/size][/color]
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Post by Tiger on Apr 19, 2010 18:30:25 GMT -5
Francis gasped in mock surprise. "And so did I!" he exclaimed, playing up the small amount of emotion that could be expressed with such a statement. Naturally, he did this only to annoy Arthur, which was definitely one of his five favorite things to do. Not the first, of course, but it was up there. With a smirk, he looked the other man right in the eyes, awaiting his reply.
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Post by Jimmeh on Apr 19, 2010 20:34:32 GMT -5
Arthur merely rolled his eyes and averted his gaze, but looked back a moment later, deciding to play along--perhaps he would be able to laugh it off. "Well," he said in a tone of false wonder and curiosity, "what was yours?" [/color][/size]
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Post by Tiger on Apr 19, 2010 20:44:29 GMT -5
"That dreamers," said Francis, grinning from the joke he was about to make, "often lie." He began to laugh, evidently not aware of how silly and arrogant for laughing at his own pun. One of the things he thought very highly of was himself, although not quite to the point of infatuation, just enough so that he thought he could do no wrong and that nothing was his fault.
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Post by Jimmeh on Apr 20, 2010 14:33:32 GMT -5
In spite of himself, Arthur smiled slightly. They were not visible at all times, but Francis had several assets, including his good humor and perpetual cheeriness. "In bed asleep," he concluded, nodding his head solemnly, "while they do dream things true." [/color][/size]
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Post by Tiger on Apr 20, 2010 16:03:43 GMT -5
"Oh!" exclaimed Francis, "Oh! oh, then I see Queen Mab hath been with you! She is the fairies' midwife"--he was sure that Arthur would be aware of this bit of mythology due to those odd creatures he apparently liked to swat at--"and she comes in shape no bigger than an agate stone on the forefinger of an alderman, drawn with a team of little atomies athwart men's noses as they lie asleep." He turned and began to walk backwards, facing the other two as his words grew more excited and energetic. "And in this state, she gallops night by night through lovers' brains, and they dream of love. Sometimes she driveth o'er a soldier's neck, and then dreams he of cutting throats, Spanish blades, of heaths five-fathom deep! and then anon drums in his ear, at which he starts and wakes, and thus, frightened, swears a prayer or two and sleeps again. This is the very Mab that plats the manes of horses in the night and bakes the elflocks in foul sluttish hairs, which, once untangled, much misfortune bodes. This is she--!"
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Post by Jimmeh on Apr 20, 2010 19:51:42 GMT -5
"Peace, peace, France!" Arthur shook his head lightly--his annoyance had slightly wavered, and he had picked up Francis's grin, to his vague embarrassment. "You talk'st of nothing." Perhaps the dance would lighten his bad mood a shade for a while, he decided, but only temporarily. [/size]
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Post by Tiger on Apr 21, 2010 18:51:37 GMT -5
"True," said Francis, still smirking, with a shrug of his shoulders. "I talk of dreams, which are the children of an idle brain, begot of nothing but vain fantasy, which is as thin of substance as the air and more inconsistent than the wind, who wooes, and, being angered puffs away from thence, turning his face to the dew-dropping south." He whirled around and fell back in step with Arthur and Matthew, now walking alongside them instead of backwards while facing them.
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Post by Jimmeh on Apr 21, 2010 20:32:44 GMT -5
[[ooc: By the way, we don't have characters for any of the servants or for Cousin Capulet, so that would have us skipping ahead a few pages to Romeo's entrance, which is line 38 in my book.]]
"This wind you talk of blows us from ourselves; supper is done, and we shall come too late." Matthew kept calm in his tone, but held the look of an older, impatient man; it was almost ridiculous, to the point of it provoking a smirk from Arthur before he switched back to his ordinary disconsolate way of speaking.
"I fear, too early: for my mind misgives some consequence yet hanging in the stars shall bitterly begin his fearful date, with this night's revels and expire the term of a despised life closed in my breast, by some vile forfeit of untimely death," he concluded, and nodded solemnly, then paused, contemplating the situation. There was certainly nothing to lose, and perhaps the course of life would steer him properly. "But He, that hath the steerage of my course, direct my sail--on, lusty gentleman!"
"Strike, drum," Matthew called to a follower, nodding in agreement. The intense light of the torches did not falter for even a moment as they continued on, even though the darker shadows of the city.
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Post by Tiger on Apr 23, 2010 15:04:04 GMT -5
The dance hall in the Capulet home was nearly full, crowded but not too crowded, filled with partygoers whose minds were muddled with food and drink. A group of musicians rested against the high stone wall, murmuring amongst themselves and hoping that Roderich would not come and reprimand them once more. But they needed not worry; he was casually chatting with the guests, conversing with dignity for the most part. "Will you tell me that?"
Kiku stood at the edge of a small, quiet circle of people, occasionally taking a sip of sake or a bite of torte. He had trouble following the conversation, but did not really care about what they were saying. These people were not his friends, nor was he theirs. All they had done was let him stand near them so he did not look like a loner, receiving nothing in return from his presence. However, he was able to fake belonging. When the group chuckled, he smiled along, and when they gasped, he did too.
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