(Untitled)

[soapcarvedhands]

He's crazy, he's blond, he's shy, and he's totally at your disposal.

Come say hi to Harding!

(Which is to say, there's a tall, slender blond man picking his way through a plate of tea sandwiches--what? he'd liked them!--and sipping, quite appropriately, a mug of Darjeeling.)

Comments

[puckishly]

There may or may not be a fairy in Harding's immediate vicinity.

However, his theft of one of Harding's sandwiches is pretty indisputable.

[puckishly]

He sniffs curiously at the sandwiches currently assembled.

"Are there any here?"

[soapcarvedhands]

"There were--well, there was at least one."

He peers at the dish, closely, and then--

"Ha!" He picks out a sandwich and hands it to Puck. "Have at."

[puckishly]

"Ooh."

Puck snatches the sandwich curiously and turns it over, then takes an exploratory bite.

..... :D!

"I quite like this," he mumbles cheerfully around the rest of it. "I shall make it a point to have some in the near future."

[soapcarvedhands]

"Really?"

He takes a second look at the plate.

"Huh."

Harding is speechless. Crazy.

[puckishly]

"Really," Puck says with a grin.

"Though I am told my tastes run to the bizarre. Perhaps 'tis not for all palates."

[soapcarvedhands]

"Perhaps," he says. "Though I've not much of a palate to begin with."

Though it might be the incredibly bland food on the ward, and not his palate at all.

[puckishly]

Puck snorts.

"Arguably, neither have I. From what I hear, the true test lies in discrimination."

[soapcarvedhands]

"Of what sort?"

[puckishly]

"Oh, between tastes, I assume."

Puck waves a hand vaguely.

"I appreciate a somewhat wider variety than is apparently traditional: hence, I've no palate."

[soapcarvedhands]

"Oh," he replies. "I suspect I am simply boring."

He releases his hands once more, and they flutter uselessly.

"Something I've never wanted to be, but I fear I've succumbed to it at last."

[puckishly]

He laughs.

"Is that all that determines one's ability to call oneself interesting anymore?"

[soapcarvedhands]

"No, but it is a symptom of dullness. When one cannot discuss food, one is left with the topics of wine, popular culture, and sex--among a few other subjects, I suppose--all things with which I have no recent experiences ."

[puckishly]

"Popular culture, I am afraid, is an area in which I want for experience." A smile. "But on the subject of wine, I think I might be helpful. Do you care for any?"

[soapcarvedhands]

"I am honestly not fond of it--but promise me a good one, and I'll take you up on the offer."

[puckishly]

Puck looks thoughtful, as if giving this potential promise the weighty consideration that it clearly deserves.

Then he smiles brightly.

"That I think I can assure you."

He hails a rat and murmurs something, upon which he straightens up and the rat scurries off.

"She shall be back in a moment or two, I expect," he says.