milliways_bar | (no subject)

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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!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Havelock fails generally at hot weather.

And, for the record, at Veelas in gold mesh bikinis, although in his case it was a goddess of love.

Havelock assesses their conversation.

"So it has," he says lazily. "I don't know what my excuse can be."

Puck pretends, cheerfully, to be asleep.

Oh wait! Words!

"Perhaps 'tis simply that I exhausted you."

"Perhaps," Tom says, and the scowl appears. Oh, Puck. You make it so easy for Tom to scowl. Tom's not that dull!

"And perhaps I should leave you gentlemen to dry out and enjoy your evening beside the fire. In any case, I'm debating whether I want another scotch or whether I should go tackle my paperwork and be done with it."

He nods his head to Havelock and manages to stop scowling at Puck.

"Good evening."

Tom walks over to the bar, still undecided whether he's staying much longer or not.

Havelock's eyes follow him, thoughtful.

"Stay here a moment?" he murmurs to Puck, unfolding himself from the couch.

Puck laughs a little at Tom's departure, waving, but tilts his head curiously as Havelock rises.

"Of course," he says, and looks up at him with a decidedly puppydoggish aspect.

"Do hurry back."

Havelock nods absently, but brushes the back of his hand lightly against Puck's hair as he passes behind.

The bar is crowded this time of the evening, but he doesn't have far to follow Tom.

"Before you leave entirely," he says, once he is close enough, and his expression has slid into something much cooler and quieter. "May I join you for a moment?"

"I decided on a second scotch, so yes, of course," he says, frowning slightly.

Hmm. He hopes Havelock wasn't offended by the scowling at Puck. It's second nature by now.

Whatever the emotion buried beneath a glacial exterior is, it probably isn't offense.

Havelock leans forwards on his elbows against the bar.

"I wanted to ask you a little more about your magic," he says. "It's something I have no aptitude for, but living here-- only a fool would ignore it."

"Oh, yes," he says, somewhat surprised. Although, truly, it's a sensible matter of inquiry for someone living at Milliways
without access to it.

"What would you like to know?"

Havelock pauses just a little longer than necessary.

It's probable that Tom will read something into it - that's all right. he intended it that way.

"Magic that can be used on the mind," he says quietly. "Reading it, or affecting it. I would be interested to know what types there are - what applications."

Usually people don't ask him about specific kinds of magic unless they have need of them. Interesting. Tom is intrigued.

"I can speak to both, actually. In my world, mind magic is not unknown, but neither is it common. I am gifted in both Legilimency, which is the reading of minds, and Occlumency, or the shielding of one's own mind. I do not use Legilimency here, unless I've been asked. It's- an intrusive method, but I've helped others retrieve lost memories at their request. However, I use Occlumency at all times."

"May I ask why you want to know?"

Havelock listens intently.

Intrusive describes the vampire's methods well enough, although their styles clearly differ. It's possible that it could help.

He turns a little, towards Tom, and then his eyes track past back to where Puck still sits near the fire.

"It's for a friend," he says, grim and pointed. "With an unfortunate inability to speak of what trouble he may be in."

He follows Havelock's look. Ah. Tom knows how it is to seek out help for someone close to him in need.

"He's bespelled?" Tom asks, his voice low. "Was it done by one we've discussed recently?"

Meaning Blodwen, of course.

Havelock shakes his head.

"A vampire of some kind, it seems," he says, voice soft but manner calmly conversational.

As if there's more than one trouble-causing bloodsucker out there.

(Well. It is Milliways - but only one is currently notorious.

Somewhere, Harth Fray gets the sudden feeling that he's letting the side down.)

"Oh. Oh, the one that's been causing problems since the holidays? I had no idea Puck would be susceptible to such a creature."

But then again, he doesn't know a great deal about fairies in general, aside from the fact that they seem to get into predicaments at a fairly frequent rate.

"You say he cannot speak of it. Can he write words down? That's how I got around a similar situation with Blodwen, as I recall mentioning."

He knows too well that feeling of not being able to help oneself in the face of a more powerful opponent.

Havelock nods.

"Apparently so," he says, rather dry. "And no. The loophole we found - have you met a girl called River Tam?"

It's not the most pleasant feeling in the world, no.

"Yes. I've known River for quite a long time."

The corner of his mouth turns up. Aha.

"And she happens to be a psychic. Has she tried to look into his mind already?"

"Yes," says Havelock.

"And she has agreed to try again, hopefully to pick up information on how it can be broken."

"If you have a solution to the problem, then why are we discussing what my magic can do?"

He's not asking in a confrontational way. He's merely curious. Were it he in this dilemma, he'd want a few back up plans. He imagines this may be the case.

Partially, a back-up plan is what this is.

However.

"She has difficulty with communicating what she hears," Havelock says. "We understand each other quite well, I think, but I always find it better to have options if possible."

"I wonder. Perhaps-"

If River looks into Puck's mind, and then Tom in turn looks into River's... He knows her issues with communication. He knows she sees things others do not.

"I should speak with her. We may be able to work together and help you both."

He thinks, for a moment, about the favor he's promised Havelock in exchange for Ingress' lessons. This could fulfill his commitment. In the grand scheme of things, though, he'd offer his help freely in a case such as this. Milliways is a second home. Keeping people safe from harm is what he's often done in the past, if only to make things easier for him and for those for whom he cares here.

Havelock looks over, relieved despite himself.

It stings not to be able to cope alone, but there is no shame in finding help with something he physically cannot do himself.

"I would greatly appreciate it," he says quietly.

"We help each other out here. I shan't even call this a favor called in. I owe Puck for his kindnesses to Ingress."

Besides, he's developed a high regard for Havelock in the short time he's known him. Allies are good to have.

"I shall look for her."

"I won't forget it," Havelock says.

Tom is rapidly establishing himself as a solid ally in Havelock's eyes.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

He won't forget it, either. But that's not a bad thing.

"I'm afraid I cannot stay much later tonight, but I shall come back as soon as my duties allow me. We've put down something of an uprising today, and unless things get out of hand again, I should have time."