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

Havelock shrugs. "As you like. We can be spontaneous if need be."

He really can! He may prefer to plan, but sometimes - like when you're with your faerie boyfriend - plans don't work out.

"How perfectly charming," he laughs, a sudden grin lighting his face.

"I shall plan for't."

"Do."

Havelock throws the towel impatiently over the arm of the couch, apparently deciding that actually getting his hair dry is a lost cause.

They need to extricate themselves from... a number of situations first, of course.

Puck's well aware it's a little pointless to talk about leaving just now, though he has a feeling lately that Havelock may be up to something ...

He's fairly certain that if it involved a direct confrontation with the vampire, however, he would tell him first. (Wouldn't he?)

He sips at his cocoa innocently, regarding Havelock with curious blue eyes.

Havelock? Up to something?

...Okay, you may have him there.

But then, he mostly always is.

He leans his head back in a relaxed and meditative attitude, and after a moment, his eyes flick sideways to meet Puck's. His are a colder blue, and give nothing away.

But Puck might be able to read something into that very blankness anyway.

He laughs, softly.

"Aye?"

Slowly and slightly, Havelock smiles.

And keeps deliberately quiet.

Puck snorts.

"Terrible man."

"Always."

You expected anything less, Puck?

He rolls his eyes and flops back in his seat.

The cocoa will console him.

Cocoa is probably more emotionally expressive than his boyfriend, it has to be said.

Havelock watches him with calm interest.

(He'd tell him if he thought it would help.)

Puck sneaks glances at him from over the rim of his mug.

... And you know what? Today is a different day from all other days. Today, he's not going to be baited into throwing a tantrum and begging for attention just because Havelock's glacial exterior is so very good.

THAT'S RIGHT.

TAKE THAT.

Not that he's saying Havelock ever baits him.

Heaven forbid.

Puck's restraint is incredibly impressive.

Havelock is most appreciative.

...

You know, quietly.

Puck hums to himself, idly, and distracts himself with pondering which of Havelock's books he shall feed to Julia Fruitnugget first.

If Havelock has anything to do with it, one of the decoys.

Ahem.

He smiles down at his hands, soft and conspiratorial.

Puck narrows his eyes.

He's totally going for Machiavelli.

Good luck finding him, Puck.

Havelock has been prewarned.

(By him.)

There's only so many places one can hide books around here.

If worst comes to worst, he'll just steal whichever of Machiavelli's tomes may be still in the library and get rid of them.

His plan is sheer elegance in its simplicity.

Oh, obviously.

All the same, Havelock doesn't look too worried.

(He knows that librarians are not to be lightly trifled with.)

Hum hum dum de dum.

If Havelock requires it, Puck shall be silent forever.

Or at least until supper.

Puck can be silent as long as he likes!

...Unless Havelock decides there's been enough quiet and takes steps, perhaps.

Steps?

Oh, no, anything but steps!

Puck is unperturbed!

Or maybe he just has no idea.

All the better.

He'll never see it coming.

Wait see what?

:D

...Or not.

:|

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river_meimei - 2010-03-29 23:38 (UTC) - Expand

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