milliways_bar | (no subject)

(no subject)

There is a Stanton boy in the bar - no, it's not the usual one.

He's beginning to be able to deal with this quite well, by now, so he simply shrugs good-naturedly and heads over to take a seat at the bar and watch the chaos.

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James looks over, and blinks. "Everyone says that," he says, rather grumpily. "No one ever says Will looks like me."

He slides his sunglasses down his nose, and gazes at James owlishly.

"Yes, but we all know Will. You, however, are an unknown entity."

"I wouldn't be unknown," James informs him, "if Will hadn't kept his magic bar a secret for ever and a day. Younger brothers."

"Oh, mine isn't that bad. Course, I only have one. Mordred Ambrosius," he offers James his hand.

"And you?"

"James Stanton. I have six - well, five older, one younger. And sisters to boot. It's hell." James shakes the hand amiably. "Mordred, eh? Your parents must really have had interesting expectations."

His lips twitch,

"You could say that, yes."

James gives him a curious look.

"You know, you look a bit like someone I know. Can't quite pinpoint it, though."

Mordred raises an eyebrow, and pushes his sunglasses back up, covering his golden eyes.

"Really? That's interesting."

James thinks.

Unfortunately, James is not the best at thinking, so he shrugs it off and looks at Mordred, rather suspiciously. "Oh well. Are you about to tell me that you're a spaceship or something like that? Because if so, you'd probably best get the shock over with now."

"Ah, no. I am not an alien. I'm dead though, does that count as a shock?"

James thinks about this for a while.

"- not as much as it should be, actually."

He looks rather awkward.

"Um. Sorry to hear it, in any case."

Mordred shrugs. "Eh, used to it by now. But yes, you do tend to meet a lot of dead people. An afterlife with alcohol..."

"By now?"

James looks rather fatally curious.

"Um. Is it rude to ask someone how long they've been dead? I suppose it's a bit like asking a girl how old they are."

He laughs at that.

"I think it is, a bit."

"All right, then. Sorry. Won't ask, and all," James says, although he still looks eaten up by curiosity.

"Of course, if you can work it out, I won't deny it."

James eyes him. "I'll get on it, then."

He grins. "Excellent. I shall look forward to hearing your theories."

And he's gone, in typical Mordred style.

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