(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

[post_whitewash]

Suuuuuuure he's harmless. And Cata's head of the Kwartan governing council. (Kwart, incidentally, is the only one of the Six Lands that didn't take part in Mizzamir's democratic reforms; they stuck to the feudal system out of deference to their particular Hero.

Funnily enough, democracy seems to be surviving Mizzamir's demise, at least for now.)

Anyway, in Jim's observations, he might take note of the black-clad woman at a table that commands an excellent view of the bar proper, scowling at a stack of papers.

[jimfrom_i_t]

He might.

He might even notice the scowl.

But what reason might he have to speak to this woman?

Hm...

[post_whitewash]

After a few moments, she rolls her eyes.
"Poisoning someone by ear?" she says, half to herself, and half to the paper she's looking at. "Have I taught you people nothing?"

[jimfrom_i_t]

That gets a smirk as Jim sips his wine.

One of the first rules of being a murderous bastard is to not talk about it in public.

I mean, really.

[pushtheboatout]

Mohawks aren't too common in Dakin's Where and When, so that gets his attention, though the "clink clink" is just annoying enough to make him wince.

"Into the Sex Pistols, are ya?" he says to the girl.

[pushtheboatout]

"That's the only reason I've ever known anybody to have hair like that."

He sticks out his hand. "Stuart."

because indeed WHY NOT

[puckishly]

Puck doesn't often experience the urge to take a really good bath, but there's something about spending a lot of time in Ankh-Morpork that is putting him into the habit.

Therefore: he's freshly scrubbed, though has failed to wash behind his ears, and smells like a number of pleasant but slightly conflicting things.

He is also: eyeing that good glass of wine.

"Should you recommend it?" he asks, appearing at the other side of the table. Out of thin air.

This is almost totally like good manners!

Re: because indeed WHY NOT

[jimfrom_i_t]

"I should," says Jim, raising an eyebrow at the lad. It's not often--or ever, really--that something like someone appearing at his table out of thin air happens.

He thinks maybe he should be more surprised, like a normal person.

But, well. He feels mellow.

[puckishly]

Puck finds normalcy annoying! You have to explain stuff constantly.*

"Ah," he says, enlightened.

"And on what grounds?"

Apparently tonight is the night he learns about wine! It can't hurt, assuming Havelock is ever high and therefore thinks it'd be a good plan to allow him near Disc society more comprehensive than his omniscient aunt whom no one calls Bobbi, actually.

*Puck almost never explains anything to anyone.

[jimfrom_i_t]

"It is well-aged and has a pleasing taste of sage, lavender and oak."

He swirls and sips.

"Shall I order you a glass?"

[ofthosegoodold]

At some point, Moriarty may find that he's being eyed with something like possessive pride.

He can try to look harmless all he wants. Applegate always knows the ones who are his, even the ones from other worlds.

Especially the ones who revel in it.

[jimfrom_i_t]

Jim would be disinclined to agree on that measure. He belongs to no one.

He does preen a little under the eying, though.

[ofthosegoodold]

As he likes. Humans tend, in general, not to take well to the idea of belonging to someone.

(Strictly speaking, they're right, what with the free will and all, but Applegate likes hyperbole. He invented it.)

Applegate smirks in amusement.

"I like your work," he says.

[jimfrom_i_t]

This gets an exaggeratedly raised eyebrow.

"You work for the hospital?"

Butter couldn't melt in his mouth.

[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.