milliways_bar | (no subject)

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

'That's a very negative outlook to take, Havelock,' he murmurs, without looking at the man. 'If you believe you'll be dead before you begin then you might well be, with or without my help.'

Did Puck tell him of his ability to read human minds? If not, it was very lax of him.

'So that's your only term - that there be a judge? And what, may I ask, would be the point? What are they going to do if they dislike the turn the game takes? And as I have no rules written down, how are they to know if any are being broken?'

He is Very Much against the idea of written rules, for obvious reasons.

Puck's eyebrows arch, mouth pressed into a thin line.

"I've several terms, if you like ... or, I expect, if you do not. Havelock, being a mortal man and certainly under no charge to deal with you, may take an interest in them as well."

He resists the urge to count points off on his fingers. "First-- that in whatever contest any of us is party to, there shall be no infliction of instantaneous and irreparable torment. Being torn asunder, or burnt to a crisp, or subject to any killing force taking place at such an interval-- that shall be the first test of whether your games may be won." A slight pause. "Second, that there shall be some judge, agreed to by us all and in full apprised of any rules we should create, who shall interpret them as justly and strictly as they may."

A beat.

"Third ... that the game shall take place in Milliways, somewhere within its confines, and in no other place for its duration. And that this contest, once its rules are determined in full, shall be waged over a single night, from sundown to sunup in its natural course, in exchange for the knowledge of how Blodwen Rowlands may be forever destroyed and made harmless to us while we live. And, I shall amend, if there be no objection, for the assured security of Lilly Kane and the children Aria Moonshine, Adrian Sunbeam, and Raspberry Beret Goodfellow-Kane from any violence, harm, or other molestation from yourself or at your direction."

Edited 2010-03-27 06:14 (UTC)

Havelock prefers to consider the worst in all situations. That way, he can decide what to do should it come to pass.

As far in advance as possible.

He brings out a notepad and pen from a pocket, and starts noting down what Puck says in shorthand.

He rolls his eyes behind his shades and does a good impression of not listening. But he's Satan. He hears just about everything, whether he wants to or not.

'I've heard a lot of things in my time. Things you couldn't start to imagine.'

Beat.

'But I still can't believe you called the squid Raspberry.

That aside, I have no objection to keeping your children out of this. And their mother.'

For now. Puck didn't, after all, specify a time frame.

'I already told you it would be in Milliways, and last for one night. A judge...' he sighs. '...I suppose so. On the stipulation that any interpretation of the rules will not be conveyed by either of you if I'm not present. Make a list of suggestions for that and I'll think about that.

As to the first one,' he shrugs, 'if you'd prefer me to think up some slow deaths for you, I'm fine with that. So I can agree to that one, yes.'

"I imagine slow death is rather the purpose," Puck points out dryly, and adds to Havelock, "do feel free to improve upon my terms should something strike you. Have you aught to add at present?"

Havelock keeps writing absently.

"The judge being a party neutral towards all of us seems fair," he says. "More generally, what happens on the night's conclusion - one way or another? A clean slate on both sides would seem logical."

Satan gazes on him evenly.

'If Puck's alive at the end of the night, he gets what he needs to kill the woman. That's it.'

If one or both of them die, well, Satan wins even though their deaths are not something he's actively seeking. And blank slates become irrelevant in that case anyway.

Puck glances to Havelock.

He's not, perhaps, entirely sure what to make of that-- or it could be he wants to hear what Havelock will say.

Terms such as those are certainly curious.

Havelock considers for a moment, still writing.

"And the safety of Lilly Kane and all the children under her care is assured," he adds quietly and neutrally. Stating 'her children' could be tricky, given that neither Raspberry nor the twins are biologically hers.

And it also allows for the eventuality of Puck and Lilly acquiring any more in the future. He rather hopes not. Three is a perfectly adequate number.

(He also wonders if blending a paralysing agent with aconite would produce symptoms of both, or if one would overpower the other first, or if some other effect would occur? He should look it up.)

'Didn't I already say that?'

He spreads his hands wide, like he can't understand why they're reiterating the point. Neither one of them have stated that they want her safe indefinitely, or the children.

'I have no interest in them as long as neither of you give me a reason to get interested.'

And interestingly, an equally plausible reading of the clause is that in absence of an end date, the terms simply continue indefinitely.

"Yes, yes, of course," Puck nods seriously, peering over Havelock's shoulder.

Given the number of clauses and subclauses he can already see flowering on the latest page ... they may be here for some time.