(Untitled)

[oneman_onevote]

Assassin, bar, shadowy corner thereof.

Havelock is unobtrusive as always, but solidly there to all eyes, in a way that sometimes he manages not to be.

He may know about this. Then again, he may not. It is unclear

Comments

[sto_helit]

Birds of a Disc feather flock together.

One Duchess of Sto Helit, sitting in the bar not far off.

[oneman_onevote]

He may notice her.

It's even probable, in fact, as his eyes travel over most of the bar, taking the place and its patrons in. Some people only see what is obvious. Havelock Vetinari was never one of them.

But for now he remains silent, sure fingers delicately checking balance and catches, and waits.

[sto_helit]

Susan's seen pictures of the Patrician before, can guess at this man's identity. Appreciates, very fully, that she's sitting a short distance away from the most dangerous man in the Disc.

"I hope it's not aimed in my direction," she says calmly, in a low, even voice, to her drink.

[oneman_onevote]

He might seem a good deal younger than his pictures. But Susan, of all people, shouldn't have trouble with that. He tilts his head quietly down at the weapon.

"No violence in the bar," he quotes dryly. "And no business either. That is two rules most stringently enforced in this place."

The suggestion that he might shoot it by accident gets no consideration.

He doesn't have accidents with weapons. Not him.