(Untitled)

[soapcarvedhands]

He's tall, he's blonde, he's prettier than your average bear.

That's right. Harding's here to play.

He's not been to Milliways in months, and judging by the dark smudges under his eyes, he's missed his refuge. He is sipping tea and looking content; that does not mean he would mind some company.

Please! Sit. Catch up a while; he's got the time.

Comments

[underwater_owl]

Oh look. Another gentleman with dark circles, and tea.

Random's tea has a fuckload of booze in it though. He wins.

He has a smile for Harding.

[soapcarvedhands]

And Harding has a cheery, if well-abused, smile for him.

"Hello?" he says. "Have we met?"

They might have. Forgetfulness is one of his less stellar qualities.

[OOC: Sorry, I didn't see this!]

[underwater_owl]

"I don't think so. It's been a few years since I was in the bar though, so I couldn't entirely say."

Random isn't forgetful, per se, he just has an awful lot to remember.

[soapcarvedhands]

He holds out a hand, then; it is long and pale and almost femininely pretty.

"Dale Harding," he says. "And you are?"

[all_in_plato]

Digory Kirke smiles as he approaches the table. "Good evening, Mr Harding," says the Professor. "Did you receive the books I left for you?"

[ooc: This conversation is paused.]

[soapcarvedhands]

"I hadn't," Harding says, looking at him curiously. "A trip to Bar will make up for that, though, won't it?"

And so it does; on his way back, he's reading the back of one book and holding the others with his free hand.

[all_in_plato]

"I hadn't meant to leave so many," Kirke explains, looking ruefully at the dozen books Harding is carrying, "but I had lent some of the books to some friends of mine here, and they've since left Milliways. I thought you might like them as well, and I surely will not miss any of the volumes."

[all_in_plato]

[I'm around and playing Kirke tonight, if you're interested in continuing.]