(Untitled)

[likesthecoat]

Ianto has decided he has a theme. Stick with what you're good at. It seems to make people happy.

TONIGHT'S SPECIALS
MARTININS
for example
ABSINTHE
BLACK
CHOCOLATE
DIRTY
EMERALD
FUZZY
etc.

COFFEE
ANY WAY YOU LIKE IT

At the end of the bar, Stuart Dakin is smiling to himself as he enjoys a pint. Amazing things have happened today. The first is

Comments

[scots_wolf]

[[OOC: Dakin please -- assuming it's not too late to tag?]]

Urquhart wouldn't usually notice the boy or young man, but he wears clothes like Posner's.

A lot like Posner's, actually.

If Urquhart doesn't want to be seen observing something, the object of his curiosity will never notice him. But now, Dakin will probably notice, sooner or later, the wandering attention of a very tall, very broad-shouldered man with long striking blond hair and a medieval looking long black cloak casually wandering over him from time to time.

The man is leaning against a pillar and eating figs, biting into the fresh, velvety fruit with strong white teeth.

[pushtheboatout]

Dakin gradually becomes aware of the scrutiny. It makes him twitchy. He's used to being looked at, really, but normally its before a line of some kind--or someone working up the courage to chat him up.

This is different. He doesn't like it.

[scots_wolf]

With a casual snap of his fingers, the tall blond man flips the hard twig-end of the fig into the fireplace, where it only gives the tiniest pop among the glowing embers.

He looks at Dakin again, more openly now, with calm amber-coloured eyes that sometimes remind people of the way a strange wild animal might look at them -- a wolf maybe?

Arrogant. Distant. Wary. Superior. Dangerous.

[pushtheboatout]

"What?" Dakin says finally, turning to the man impatiently.

[scots_wolf]

"What you're wearing looks familiar," the man says, eying the tie.

[pushtheboatout]

"It's a uniform. You must know Pos. We go to -- we went to the same school."

[scots_wolf]

"David Posner, you mean?" Urquhart says. "He didn't mention that another boy from his school had come here, too. Interesting."

[pushtheboatout]

"Are you someone he's in the habit of telling things?"

[scots_wolf]

"Oh, we chat," Urquhart says. "Occasionally. He's a very intelligent, well-educated young man, capable of independent thought."

[pushtheboatout]

Dakin smiles at that. "Yeah. I know."

He sticks out his hand. "Stuart Dakin."

[scots_wolf]

Urquhart has heard the name, but he doesn't bat an eyelash.

He takes the hand and shakes it.

"I'm Urquhart."

[pushtheboatout]

"Nice to meet you," says Dakin as he lets go of Urquhart's hand.

[scots_wolf]

"I don't know what David has told you about the people he's met here, and whether he mentioned me?" Urquhart says.

[pushtheboatout]

"He's not told me much," Dakin says, and leaves out the fact that it's probably because he hasn't been asking Posner about his life. Something he vows to change. "I don't think he's mentioned you, no."

[scots_wolf]

"I'm a professional killer," Urquhart says, blandly, "from the year 1260."

Scared now?

[pushtheboatout]

Maybe. Not that he'd let it show.

"Oh, really? Must've been easier before forensics."