oneman_onevote | (no subject)

It is dark and silent inside the sparse hallways of the Assassin's Guild.

Nevertheless, Havelock is even quieter and more careful than he had been outside. Assassins are creatures of the night, so running into another student or a professor is not at all unlikely.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The fairy ... continues to smile. Sweetly. Straight at Downey.

Downey is Not Looking at Robin.

"You'll get held back. Again," he continues.

Havelock just looks politely at him, as if he doesn't see why this might be a problem.

Puck claps his hands together brightly, making a surprisingly loud noise.

"Well! As charming as this line of discourse is, I fear I am quite faint for want of sleep."

"Of course," says Havelock.

"We should be leaving. Goodnight Downey, Stanford."

Downey almost jumps at the noise, eyeing Puck for a moment before nodding.

Puck takes Havelock's arm and draws him down the hall, despite the fact that he does not actually know where he is going.

"Well," he says in a conversational tone (which Downey and Stanford can probably hear, not being terribly far away), "what a singularly unpleasant fellow. I could turn him into a penguin, if you like. No one need know."

Havelock allows Puck to lead, only resisting when the fae seems about to make a wrong turn.

He looks perfectly calm, but his voice is amused. "Tempting as it is, I prefer him to believe me harmless. He is useful for spreading that idea about, and if it were known I had a... friend who turned him into a flightless avian, it might upset that."

There is an air of vague regret. Downey would make a wonderful penguin.

"Well, please yourself," Puck replies, looking slightly downcast. Downey would make a wonderful penguin.

Then he chuckles, giving Havelock a sly look.

"Harmless."

Havelock looks blankly back.

"I major in languages to further that opinion."

The fae snickers.

"Oh, you're a crafty one, Havelock Vetinari."

He does Puck proud.

Havelock shrugs gracefully, discreetly steering Puck around a different corner than he had been heading for.

"I try."

Puck lets him steer. In fact, he slips a little closer to Havelock as they go. For easy steering.

"Are all your fellow-students such delightful ignoramuses?" he inquires.

Havelock considers.

"No, not all," he says. The lengthy pause indicates that he does consider most of them so, however.

Puck gives him a dubious look.

"The first impression does not leave me with much hope."

There are perhaps one or two," he says non-committally.

"Bravo," Puck replies dryly.

And Havelock has to live here?

He does indeed.

The assassin opens the door to a very small room - students everywhere are doomed to sleep in spaces approximating cupboards. It is, however, neat enough, being Havelock's.

Puck smiles, not minding the size at all. ~~After all, it's really about how you handle it.~~

Now comes the fun part.

"All yours?" he inquires. Innocently.

"Yes, Puck," he replies. Obliviously.

Havelock is absently checking around the room - for what is unclear. Booby traps, perhaps.

It is not the best of ideas, perhaps, for Puck to sneak up behind Havelock while he's thus occupied-- but he does so anyway, sliding his arms around him.

"What are you doing?" he murmurs against his ear.

Perhaps not, though Havelock is sensible enough to realise who it's likely to be grabbing him from behind.

"Checking that all is as I left it," he murmurs back.