(no subject)

[oneman_onevote]

The sky over Milliways outside has elected to break into one of those energetic downpours that the optimistic call a 'spring shower.' Sparring in adversity is one thing, but a sword fight becomes a tricky thing when you are rapidly beoming soaked to the skin.

Therefore Puck and Havelock have called a finish for today and open the door from the bar, each carrying a sword, and shaking off water.

Havelock peels off his coat, revealing a marginally drier shirt. "That went well, I thought," he says breezily, heading for the bar.

"Oh, I quite agree," Puck replies, who himself appears remarkably unconcerned by the fact that he is dripping all over the floor. "I am amazed, but it does seem your tutelage begins to stick."

(This might be putting it slightly optimistically, but at least Puck remembered to actually attempt to formulate his own sequence of attacks rather than just mimicking Havelock's.)

"It would seem so," the assassin agrees gravely, navigating around a table full of patrons. "Soon your technique will match your speed, and then I'm afraid I'll be no challenge at all."

Puck bats his eyelashes. "You flatter me," he says cheerfully. "Bar darling, could you see your way to a bit of cocoa?"



A few moments later sees the pair drying by the fire, Puck having been coaxed into a fresh shirt and breeches and Havelock with a towel, idly rubbing at his hair. The swords - both cleaned and dried before Havelock started on himself - are still in evidence.


[OOC: A combo post for all your threading needs! Merc and I are both here, taggable, and good for slowtimes!

EDIT: And now I am abed! Threads continue tomorrow? <3!]

Comments

[river_meimei]

The front door opens and closes a dozen times an hour around here. You stop noticing, really, unless you're particularly paranoid or keeping an eye out for someone specific.

Since Havelock Vetinari is at least one of those things, however, it bears mentioning that presently, it happens to be River Tam who steps through that doorway.

Her glance slides across the entire room; if it lands on Havelock and Puck longer than anyone else, it's only very slightly so.

Then, watching the floorboards with a distracted, concentrating air -- as if they're very fascinating, perhaps, or whatever else she sees in them is -- she drifts over to a booth, and thence to the rafters. She doesn't make any particular effort to keep to the shadows, once she's there. Instead, she meanders idly along the beams, a silent purple-clad figure apparently entirely intent on the hallucinations around her, and eventually settles down to lie stomach-down a few tables' distance away from Puck and Havelock, albeit several feet up.

Her head is turned away from them; she runs her fingertips lightly over the rough-sanded wood, exploring its texture. Her eyes are open.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

Puck, for his part, hasn't seen her, but is sipping his cocoa with religious attention.

"Mmm," he sighs, and plucks at the breeches. His expression is a little mystified.

"This was most fashionable of her, I think-- by the standards of my own day, insofar as it is that."

[oneman_onevote]

Havelock examines him from under his towel.

"Close enough by mine," he says, thoughtful. His eyes track momentarily past Puck and up to the rafters.

"You wouldn't look out of place in the city, like that."

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

Puck laughs.

"I rather did the last time, though, did I not?" He takes another sip. "It might be quite the thing to someday make up for it."

(Puck's not really leaving the bar right now, lest it be viewed as some form of opposition.)

His eyes follow Havelock's to the rafters.

[oneman_onevote]

"Hmm," Havelock agrees noncommittally.

[river_meimei]

The rafters are quiet.

There's a lot to see in Milliways. A lot to listen to.

You could lie still for a long time just absorbing these surroundings. River has, before.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

Puck pouts prettily.

(He's not certain it will work on Havelock.)

"Do you mean to say you should never have me back?"

[janebecomes]

Jane is in a remarkably good mood and smiles at the rather odd sight of Puck and the rather serious man with him. She is not sitting terribly far away and notes their swords,

"Gentlemen, I do hope that your blades suffered no ill effects from their drenching."

[oneman_onevote]

Havelock gives her a quiet nod.

"They should suffer no lasting harm now they are dry," he says.

Although perhaps he should sharpen them before they go away. A sword is not his standard weapon, but it is as well to be ready to use it if need be.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

Puck waves cheerfully.

"Hullo, Mistress Jane. How does your neck?"

[janebecomes]

"Quite well as does all of me, Master Goodfellow. Do introduce me to your companion."

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

Puck laughs. "With pleasure."

He gestures, in a little flourish, with the hand not holding his mug. "Jane Austen, permit me to introduce Havelock Vetinari. Havelock, this is the lady Jane Austen."

[oneman_onevote]

Havelock nods courteously, somehow managing to give the impression of a full bow while still seated.

"Delighted, Miss Austen."

[burning-evil.livejournal.com]

And just like that, the chair opposite the pair is occupied. Satan is, as ever, dressed in the finest of tailored suits, wearing shades and a quiet smirk with a cigarette burning in his right hand.

'Well well,' he murmurs, the corner of one side of his mouth curling upwards, 'isn't this cosy.'

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

Puck's smile goes a little ... fixed.

"Oh," he says.

"My."

A beat.




"Hullo."

[oneman_onevote]

Havelock doesn't say anything, but that's really par for the course.

He does lower the towel, however, and gives Satan a cautious and noncommital nod of acknowledgment.

[burning-evil.livejournal.com]

'Hello, Robin.'

He's looking at Havelock, though it might be hard to tell behind those glasses.

'Havelock.

Anyone would think you two weren't pleased to see me.'

How rude.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

"Would they?"

Puck frowns, eyes sliding to Havelock before returning to Satan.

"What do you make of that, Havelock?"

[oneman_onevote]

"I think it would depend on the person doing the thinking," Havelock says, glancing back at Puck, just a little rueful.



"Good afternoon."

[young_tmriddle]

"Hullo, gentlemen," Tom says, strolling over with a scotch in hand. It's been a long day, and he's earned one. Maybe even two.

"All is well, I hope? If rather damp."

[oneman_onevote]

Havelock glances up, and nods courteously.

The grace of the gesture is a little hampered by the towel as he rubs his hair dry.

"Tom," he greets him, in a manner close to friendly.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

"Hullo, Master Riddle," Puck says cheerily.

If he is thrown by the proximity-to-friendliness in any way, it doesn't show.

"All's well enough, I think. How do matters go with you?"

[young_tmriddle]

The power of Ingress compels him. It was a matter of time before the goodwill towards Puck wore off on Tom.

"Aside from dealing with a tiresome new conflict in the Underside, quite well. Although Ingress informs me she would like to keep knives in her new boots once she receives the permission."

He doesn't look overly perturbed by this, but he tries, at least, to look slightly stern.

"I can't imagine where she got such an idea."

[oneman_onevote]

Havelock raises his eyebrows.

"She is keen," he remarks, mildly amused. "She'll have to wait a little longer if it's my permission she's waiting for."

Sliced ankles are not in the least conducive to learning.*

* Unless other methods of encouragement fail.

[puckishly.livejournal.com]

Puck laughs, surprised.

"Is she? I must confess I should not have expected it of her-- but she is a sensible sort of child, after all."

Puck's definition of the word 'sensible' may be slightly skewed.