milliways_bar | Just like roaches, I always come back.

Current Mood: chipper

Just like roaches, I always come back.

*Puck saunters into the bar with a charming grin for everyone he sees. The grin that doesn't quite disguise mischievous intent.

No, Robin is sulking no longer. His issues with Oberon are still troubling, but getting up to his old tricks has proved most therapeutic. Why, after sticking that old woman in a tree, he felt downright chipper.

He leaps into the air and performs several impressive acrobatic turns before landing rather hard on an empty barstool.*

... Ow.

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Desire turns up after the conversation with Morpheus, standing nearby at the bar and deciding what next to drink. The Endless glances at the Faerie, and is reminded of one of Dream's associations. Unable to keep a small smirk at the half-recognition, Desire bows slightly to the faerie.

[OOC: I want to play, so we have to do a little continuity switching. ;)]

*Puck returns this rather-androgynous-and-exceptionally-attractive being's bow, feeling a sort of change in the atmosphere. It's gotten a bit cozier in here, he notes with interest-- is that a whiff of peaches?

And what's that smirk for? he wonders. Probably saw my grand entrance ...*

*grin* I recommend the mead.

"Do you? Well, then I will have some. Thank you for the suggestion, Robin Goodfellow." Eyes as golden as the mead sparkle with mirth, and Desire has two cups of mead in hand. The Endless passes one over to Puck, turning to glance out at the room.

*And one for me! Yessss.

Puck sips jauntily, glancing at the being out of the corner of his eye.*

You've got me at a disadvantage, I'm afraid. Robin Goodfellow is indeed my name-- what's yours?

Puck's companion laughs. "Forgive me, sweet Puck, I forget -- We haven't met, you merely remind me of someone I know. I am Desire."

*Most aptly named, Puck decides.*

I do, do I? And this someone just happens to share my name? *a grin* If this fellow's half as good-looking as I am, I'll have to meet him.

*Puck preens for a moment, then takes another drink.*

A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Desire. My hearty thanks for the mead.

"My pleasure, Puck -- Imagine it thanks for the suggestion."

Desire returns the grin, toasting Puck before taking the first sip of mead. "I imagine you share a lot more than that, o mischevious one -- Or perhaps I confuse you with him, again?"

*Puck regards Desire shrewdly.*

No, I'd say you have it about right ...

Have you ever been to Athens?

"Not in more years than I care to remember, but yes." Desire's head tilts, assuming a small mischevious smile. "Why do you ask?"

Because I think it's possible that we've met before, after all ...

*Puck sips his mead, noting in dismay that he's nearing the bottom of the glass. He looks up at Desire and sees that hesheit has become distinctly more male. The golden eyes, however, remain the same.*

Now I recognize you. *grin* What brings you to a place like this?

Desire winks and laughs, pointing at the other tables -- Adam's, Crowley's, and Odysseus'. "Look around. This place practically called me to visit -- Besides, you have to admit it's interesting. And outside a fair number of rules, at that."

*Puck follows Desire's gesture, smirking.* That's true. It's piqued my curiosity as well-- they all bring their baggage and their petty troubles here with them. They're a different sort of mortal, but they're still vulnerable, in their ways ...

*He grins.* And it is rather liberating to be here, answering to no one. For a time, anyway.

"Mm. Well, I wouldn't say answering to 'no one,' sweet Puck." Desire nods toward the bar. "The bartenders take the no fighing rule fairly seriously, and everyone here seems to protect their own -- Whatever 'their own' may be."

Desire surreptitiously drops more coin on the bar, and another mead appears for Puck to notice.

"So long as no one's toes are more than bruised, I find I'm left alone to my business."

*Puck waves aside the notion of answering to bartenders, picking up the next glass of mead.*

I'm sure they're excellent peace-keepers ... but that isn't what I meant.

*He downs the mead a little quicker than his last mug. Even with his unusually high tolerance for alcohol, he's on his way to drunkenness. Not that he minds.*

"Oh, I know. Just passing on the knowledge from my experience." Desire watches the bar, smiling into his half-finished cup of mead.

"It's strange. This place has a bad habit of changing its patrons."

*Puck cocks his head to the side.* Change? How so?

"For one, I've been accused of being more human," Desire says, conspiratorily.

Of course, Desire lends no hint to whether the accusations against him are true or not.

*Puck raises an eyebrow, grinning,*

More human? How dreadful.

*The Fair Folk, of course, being terribly snobbish about their magical status. Puck drinks again, smacking his lips.*

Well, I don't think I'm quite drunk enough to handle the idea of becoming a human. *lopsided grin*

"Why, dear Goodfellow. Are you perhaps hoping for another round of generosity?" Desire's tone is decidedly teasing, resting the near-empty glass against his cheek.

Well, can't very well pay for my own drink, can I?

*He smiles charmingly.*

"No, not at all. What am I thinking?" Desire shakes his head rather fondly at Puck, and once more provides a cup of mead for the faerie.

*All right, so he's getting pretty drunk.

Must keep ... all dramatic confessions ... to self ...*

Mmm, this is good. Verrry good mead. Yum.

"I would hope so, else that's a wasted recommedation." Desire finally sits in the stool next to Puck, finishing the last of his own mead.

*Puck shoots Desire a look, smelling peaches again.*

Do you doubt my recommendating skills? *sensing something wasn't right about that sentence* Er, wait ... *frown* Ne'er mind.

"I would never presume to question a faerie's skills," Desire assures Puck, all seriousness on the outside.

*Puck takes yet another long drink, realizing with his final shred of sobriety that he's probably going to do something mind-blowingly stupid very shortly. What he doesn't do with his final shred of sobriety is wonder how he got so drunk after only two-and-a-half mugs of mead.*

That's good! 'Cause if you did, that'd be making a mistake. Big mistake. Can't go 'round questionin' m'skills ... even Ob'ron doesn't question ... me ... and skills ...

*Yup. That was it. Stupid.*

Desire leans on the bar, resting his chin in his hands. "Oberon, you say? My, you are in the know, aren't you?"

*If he'd been slightly less inebriated, Puck would have stiffened a bit, then laughed off any mention of his master. As it is, he sort of droops onto the counter, chin in hands.*

I miss 'im.

... I mean, saw 'im yesterday, but I still do.

Desire nods slightly, listening: Another cup and a half of mead, and the drink is passed to the faerie again.

*Puck feebly protests.*

No. Nooo ... too drunk t'drink. *This thought amuses him, and he giggles. He downs another half-cup of mead.* Too drink t'drunk ... waitaminute, what was I saying?

"You were remarking the mead is terribly good." Another sip himself.

*Puck straightens up, slamming a fist down emphatically. The bar is not likely to appreciate that.*

And so it is! I toldya that, din't I? *frowns* Feel like 'mgoing in circles ...

Desire wisely doesn't make any comment about fairy rings.

*Puck frowns in concentration. There's something he's not getting, and since he's the only one talking, that's not a good sign. He decides to stick with what he knows.*

Things're confusing here. Clever mortals. Clever bars. Ne'er met a smart bar before ... 'sdifferent.

Don' wanna go home, s'not that ... but I know what's what, y'know, when he's 'round.

"Very different," Desire agrees. "It has a sense of humor, and a wicked one at that."

"There's nothing stopping you from coming back, that I've seen."

Good point! *Puck hadn't thought of that, and the idea cheers him up considerably.* Maybe I c'n go back now? *He tries to stand and fails miserably.* Maybe not.

Anyway, shouldn't talk 'bout me. Not polite. *He giggles at the thought of being polite.* Haven't even told 'im, anyway. Ob'ron, I mean. Prolly knows, but I haven't told. Bet you knew, din'tya?

Desire smiles, faintly. "It's hard to sneak such things past me, Robin Goodfellow. It's my nature. And speaking of natures..."

Desire glances quickly about to make sure they aren't overheard, and leans in closer to speak with Puck. "I could help you, a little, in that regard."

Hm, 'spected so.

*Puck raises a rather unsteady eyebrow (a testament to his complete drunkenness) at Desire's offer of help.*

How?

Desire smiles. "How much do you want that?"

*Puck frowns, looking much more sober than he actually is. Because if he were actually sober, he might be wondering if this is wise.*

Don't you know? So, so, so much ... hurts to want so much ... sound like an idiot, but that's the truth. *he grins feebly*

Desire nods, giving Puck a light pat on the shoulder. "Don't fret, Puck. I know just the thing."

And maybe Puck's shoulder is tingling a little, warmly, as if Desire's hand were still there after he'd moved it.

*Puck touches his shoulder lightly, a slow smile growing on his face. Eventually, it becomes a sultry smirk.*

Mmmm ... thing indeed. Just the thing. Think I could walk now.

*Puck staggers to his feet, swaying a little bit. His wings are about the only things enabling him to keep his balance.*

Goin' back, now, I think. Mmmmhmmm. 'Nks for the drinks, v'ry helpful. See you 'gain?

*With that, Puck turns around several times and finally stumbles out of the correct doorway.*

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Just like roaches, I always come back.

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OOC: Who'd've pegged Puck as a melancholy drunk?

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