fandomtownies | Graduation Brunch: The Park, Sunday, mid-morning to mid-afternoon

It was the Grads' Brunch in the park today, as the brightly coloured banner -- CONGRATULATIONS, CLASS OF 2008! -- indicated.

There were lots of tables and chairs set up in the park, under sails for shade, and long tables groaning under the weight of the food and drink. Not just traditional ~~moddable~~ brunch foods, but a wide selection of ~~also moddable~~ greek dishes and delicacies.

Coffees, teas, punch, juices and softdrink were only some of the ~~also also moddable are you sensing a theme here?~~ wide range of drinks.

Music played quietly in the background, the speakers hanging from the trees, and bocce ball and croquet had been set up. There was even space for dancing, a hard floor having been laid over the grass between the trees.

It may be the Grads' Brunch, but everyone was welcome! Come and congratulate the class of 2008!

[ooc: What it says up there! This is a picnic to celebrate the 2008 graduates and their guests, but it's open to all of Fandom.

Plz wait for OCD

OCD? We has it.]

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Romeo rose to his feet in a sudden, steady motion, one trained in street fights. He didn't know this girl, but he could tell something was very wrong.

"You don't know me," he pointed out. "How can you need a word with me?"

"I met someone once when my friend thought she was her. The twelve-year-old you married, to be specific, you utter, utter, flinker what the squall were you thinking?" Zero demanded, hands on hips. Ooooh, blond boy thought he was tough. As if.

Romeo's mouth dropped open at this. He'd expected the trouble from the whole thing to follow him to Fandom someday, just ... not this way.

"She was almost 14, not 12," he protested, hand running through his hair. Because, clearly this made a huge difference. "And, anyhow, I didn't know how old she was, not then."

Not until someone showed him her obituary, actually. He had never asked her for ID.

"Because that makes such a huge difference," Zero snapped. "Wait wait wait you married a thirteen-year-old and you didn't know how old she was?! How do you marry someone and not know how old they are?!"

Romeo wasn't sure why he was required to defend himself to this girl, but he kept talking anyhow.

"We got married in some haste," he snapped. "I'd known her only a day. There were some family circumstances that made it seem like the best route." Also true love, and a priest with visions of his own glory to egg them on.

"And I was 16, myself."

"SIXTEEN?" screeched Zero. "SIXTEEN? And you married a girl you'd only known a DAY AND THEN YOU DIDN'T EVEN ASK HER HOW OLD SHE WAS?" Pant pant. "Aren't there LAWS about that where you live?"

That was an easy question, at least. "No," Romeo glared.

Twelve counted as of age in Verona.

"That's horrific. Where do you live? I am going to picket the hell out of your city hall."

"It's how things are," Romeo said, a bit affronted. "Usually it works well."

"The city's called Verona, in California." Probably not Zero's California, however.

"YOU CAN'T GET MARRIED AT TWELVE IN CALIFORNIA!" Zero screeched.

"Take that up with the Verona government, not myself," Romeo answered, surprised. "How old do you have to be to get married in California?"

"Eighteen. Which is still too young, but don't tell Aeryn I said that. Or Rory. Please."

"I've never met either of them, so that will be easy enough to abide by," Romeo pointed out, furrowing his brow. "Eighteen is next to an old maid at home."

Zero just stared. "Your world is a horrible, frightening place," she finally decided.

It was, actually.

"Because we marry young?" Romeo was incredulous.

"Because you marry CHILDREN!" Zero flailed expansively.

Romeo was trying hard not to shout; his sunglasses were gripped in his fingers so tightly they might snap.

He hissed instead. "Juliet's parents would have married her to another, if she hadn't chosen me," he said. "And she paid with her life, which I hope satisfies your morality."

"Do I seem a child to you?"

"YES!" Ask a stupid question...

"So it's supposed to make it BETTER that the poor girl might have had to marry some other taking-advantage-of-her bastard? Is it supposed to make BETTER that she's--oh, that's great, marry a little girl AND THEN SHE DIES? WHAT KIND OF LIFE IS THAT YOU WANKER?"

"I did not take advantage of her, and she had no life at all," was Romeo's still-hissed response. He was concentrating very hard on not hitting her. "What doest thou want me to say? I've no intention of getting married again, maybe ever, nor am I going home."

"'I'm a frak-up who's ashamed of myself for marrying a little girl' might be a start."

He stared, for a moment, more bewildered than furious. A fuck-up, yes, even in some ways ashamed of himself.

But never for his marriage.

"Then I've nothing to say to you."

Graduation Brunch: The Park, Sunday, mid-morning to mid-afternoon

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