othercaptjack | Jack Harkness' room :: Mid-2005 timewarp AU

The view through the keyhole is ... exceedingly sleek.

And, perhaps nearer to the point, empty.

Puck turns the knob and pushes through.

Havelock stalks through after him, wary and reserved.

But he needn't be so cautious at this time - the rooms appear pristine in their emptiness.

Also: decorative!

It is curious that it is so silent in here.

(The idea of soundproofing is several hundred years ahead of Puck.)

He sniffs the air curiously, then steps forward into the room. Aside from a few broken glasses, which he tiptoes round, the place appears in perfect order. In the far right corner, there is a small but elegant bar counter; the selection behind it seems to render Puck's own bottle somewhat superfluous. There are more discreet doors leading out from this room, all of which look a great deal like the one Puck and Havelock have just entered through.

Strangely enough, despite the fact that most other suites are simply rectangular, this one seems to have ended up with more than its fair share of dark corners.

Perhaps most importantly, one of those discreet doors leads out to a balcony.

Havelock smiles at the sight - or at least, the blank set of his features unbends in a vaguely positive manner - and he makes for it after a swift, sweeping assessment of the rest of the room.

Puck is starting to determine a trend here where the dreadful mortal goes places and he just ... follows him.

To be fair, Puck does not tend to blaze his own trails. And if the dreadful mortal goes first, he's more likely to provide human shielding.

The balcony offers a view of the lawn, lake, distant mountains, and the start of the woods, all of which are significantly corpsier than they once were. Nothing much is moving, because in the absence of prey, the dead creatures seem to sort of shamble about aimlessly.

Havelock appears to be completely fine with this state of affairs.

Either that, or he thinks nothing of it - instead, he leans thoughtfully over the railing, to survey the grounds below. Although the creatures appear docile for the moment, there are still a lot of them. Too many to go down without a clear aim. He turns around after a moment, leaning back of his elbows to look up at the wall above, trying to see how tricky the way up would be to another window, or the roof.

As it happens, he gets a good view of Puck's toes.

That's what is dangling down from Puck's newest, precariousest perch up on the eaves above the balcony. It's largely a decorative structure, and therefore doesn't offer the greatest roof access ever, but Puck seems largely unperturbed.

Except by the zombies.

"They have certainly multiplied themselves," he observes in a mutter.

Havelock takes a moment to eye Puck's feet, before shaking his head slightly and leaning further outward to peer politely around him.

"Their condition appears highly contagious," he says. "Do tell me if you start craving the flesh of the living."

More than usual, if that's your thing!

"I'll do the same."

PERFECTLY NORMAL PRECAUTION.

Puck laughs humorlessly as he surveys the landscape.

"Very well," he says.

"An I do, I hope you shall apply your blade to me as readily as you have these others." An absent tilt of his head, as he regards the cloudless sky and not immediately assailable roof. "I may beg it of you in any case, before all this is done. It would be quick."

Havelock tilts his head a little, gazing up at him; and seems to think before speaking.

"If need be," he says at last. "But I think you are too quick for any of them."

The narration wishes it could say that Havelock's methods of killing are always quick, but sadly... no, not always.

The fairy looks both a little amused and a little flattered, but immediately casts aside both reactions in favor of looking a little aloof.

"Shall I to the rooftop, then? I am not sure we shall profit by it, but I haven't anything else at present."

Havelock nods.

"I should check the doors inside," he says.

Otherwise, he has a feeling he will wind up waiting out here for Puck to return. And that would be unproductive.

(Besides, if he reaches safety - maybe he won't return at all.)

Puck is gone about five minutes.

When he returns, it's perched on the balcony rail, and he is picking dirt insouciantly from beneath his nails.

"There is little to the roof but a view," he says.

"I think you might manage the climb, had you a mind to."

Havelock has made himself busy in the meantime, and two doors - one to the outside corridor, and the one through which they are arrived - are now effectively barred with what chairs and tables he could find; the other doors stand open from when he had checked to see where they led. They are mostly bedrooms, but two lead to small bathrooms (complete with jacuzzis, because the proprietress has her priorities straight) and one to a smaller private bar.

He reappears from the latter once he hears Puck's voice, and nods thoughtfully.

"I may well do before too long," he says. "Though we are reasonably secure here for the moment - and there may be a way downstairs that bypasses the corridors."

"From the roof, do you mean?"

Puck looks inquisitive.

Havelock shakes his head, and moves back into the room he had been investigating.

"Here," he says, going to the wall, which has a discreet hatch installed. From the size of the thing, it looks tight but possible for even a tall man like Havelock to climb into.*

"This probably goes down to the kitchens."

So saying, he starts undoing the hatch to have a look.

* Milliways remains committed to the easy and convenient flow of the narrative.

And in a flash, Puck is there at his side to peer down the hatch himself.

"In the kitchens," he notes, conversationally, "there is likely to be food."

"That's the usual state of affairs," Havelock agrees solemenly.

Puck's gaze slides suspiciously to him.

He cannot tell if the mortal is mocking him.

Havelock's face is as calm and unreadable as ever, opening the hatch and looking first up and then down into the darkness.

It may be a question that not even the ages can answer.

The longer this moment of calm and non-readability extends, the more clearly Puck's expression darkens into glowering territory.

"... What is your name?"

Havelock's gaze slides sideways to catch Puck's.

He considers for a moment - there are various theories he has read on the importance of names to faeries, enough to instill a vague caution. (Or a little more than his baseline, at any rate.)

Still.

"Havelock."

"Havelock," Puck repeats.

He seems faintly surprised that the dreadful mortal has a name at all, but rolls with it.

And, only slightly sarcastic, says, "Enchanting to make your acquaintance."

Havelock raises his eyebrows with the calm of complete innocence.

"Likewise."

His face may lie, but he rather thinks that this is quite true.

Even if it is only in the literal sense.

Puck, not sure what to do with that except scowl more, peers down into the darkness once again.

His fingers curl over the edge of the hatch and tap fitfully.

Then he makes a face.

"... We needn't go now."

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stealing from emmy's descriptors with abandon

You THIEF.

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