milliways_bar | (no subject)

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The door opens, as it does every hour of every day, and someone steps in. Hardly an unusual occurance, but the boy-prince who just stepped through would strongly disagree.

This is not his twin's room, and as that's where he was heading...

Melehan, son of Mordred and his lady-wife Cywyllog, is staring at the bar in utter shock. Shaking his head slowly, he pinches his arm in an attempt to wake up. No such luck. He takes a step forward, still staring with too-wide dark eyes, and wondering why the hell this place seems vaugely familiar.

Slowly, knowing it's no good, he whispers,

"Melou?"

[ooc: I'm here for just under an hour, then I'm vanishing for an hour due to class, but then I'll be back.]

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There is a Tim, although not the right Tim, but nonetheless a Tim who knows things. Far more then he should.

"Hey there kid. You all right?'

Mordred's son looks at him, shaking his head again.

"I'm fine. But. This isn't Melou's room."

"No, it's not. This is Milliways."

Mordred is obvious in the boys face, at least to Tim. And more then a trace of his grandmother.

"Bar at the end of the universe."

"...the door normally opens onto Melou's room." See Melehan be calm?

Tim understands that type of calm.

"It's a random kind of magic. It brings people here who need to be here, for whatever reason."

"For whatever reason...ah-huh."

"Your mother comes here, from time to time."

He's not going to mention Mordred.

Unless Tim wants a fist in the jaw, this is probably a good thing.

Blankly,

"My...mother?"

"You are the son of Cywyllog, aren't you?"

"Of course. But not that's what I meant."

A gesture.

"Well, what did you mean?"

"What would my mother do here."

"Relax? Make friends?"

A pause.

"Enjoy herself."

"...she doesn't do that. Really."

A raised eyebrow.

"Why not?"

He shifts, slightly uncomfortable.

"Because she never has. And not now, really. Not with father dead."

A steady blink.

"That's... interesting. I have seen her many a time in here."

Cywyllog in the bar is twenty-one, with twin toddlers. Melehan's mother is, in his timeline, thirty-three.

"...but she never goes anywhere."

That's gotta suck.

"Time has been known to stop."

"...how can you stop time?"

[ooc: also, need to run and have a late lunch - slowtime, wrap?]

"Magic, of course."

(Slowtime is good.))

"That would take a lot of it, wouldn't it?"

"Well, yes?"

A slight pause.

"Maybe not as much as you might think. The magic activates, drawing someone here from their point in time. then, when they open the door, they come back to that same point, because the magic takes them back that way. Time isn't stopped, per se, people are simply returned exactly after they left."

Melehan frowns.

"Oh...I think I understand."

"It's confusing for me, and I know magic."

There's a small girl watching him from a few steps away, a little warily.

Lets just say that he knows where he is by now. Feeling a gaze, the young prince turns his head and meets the little girl's eyes.

If she is a little wary, he is defining the word.

Mary's chin rises, a little; she meets the boy's gaze squarely.

"You were staring first," he points out.

"Yes," Mary admits.

A beat.

"But I was here first."

"I'm...not allowed to come here?" Melehan asks.

Yep, he's a brother.

"I did not say you were not," Mary says, stiffly.

"Only that I have not seen you before - so I am allowed to stare."

"And I'm not? Seeing as I've never been here before, I would think I had more right to stare at people."

"I did not say you could not either," Mary points out, loftily.

"Never said you did."

"You were arguing as if I had," Mary says, rather smugly.

"It is foolish to argue against something that has not been said."

"Never said I was sensible." It's said almost cheerfully.

Mary gives him a slightly odd look.

"Why would you not wish to make sense?"

"Because I like winding people up."

"Oh - you are just contrary, then," Mary says, tossing her head a little, with the air of One Who Knows.

"But you can be contrary and still make sense."

"I can make perfect sense when I want to."

[ooc: also, need to run and have a late lunch - slowtime, wrap?]

[OOC: Good either way. *grins*]

"Well, I have not seen it," Mary retorts.

"Well, I've only spoken to you once. I'll hunt you when I'm back."

He grins.

"Probably with my brother. Good day."

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