(no subject)

[theravenboy]

Owen Davies heard the harpsong in the upstairs hallway and asked politely if he could come along with Bran.

Therefore, both Bran Davies and Owen Davies are walking through the doorway to Milliways now.

[In which Owen Davies demonstrates the presence of a backbone! Accompanied by Bran, Owen listens to Dream of the Endless compliment his son, speaks politely to Mordred and invites Mordred to visit. Owen and Bran talk to Blodwen Rowlands and escape unscathed. Score: Davies 6, Blodwen 3. Also, Bran meets Liz Imbrie [slowtimed].)

Comments

[liz-imbrie-.livejournal.com]

Therefore, Liz Imbrie is staring at Bran Davies. Really, 'staring' doesn't begin to cover it.

[theravenboy]

Having come from inside the cottage, Bran is not wearing his dark glasses. He returns her look with a cool golden stare.

[liz-imbrie-.livejournal.com]

She blinks and tries very hard to look away. Failing, she instead smiles.

"Hello."

[theravenboy]

[ooc: Sorry for slowness. I had a phone call.]

Bran smiles, shaking his head so that his hair flies everywhere. It makes him look much less like a spirit walking out of an old story.

"Hallo. Bran Davies." He offers the woman his hand to shake.

[liz-imbrie-.livejournal.com]

((OOC: No worries, dearling!))

Thank God. That helps.

"Elizabeth Imbrie. How do you do."

Her hand is tiny and perfectly manicured.

[theravenboy]

Bran shakes firmly. "Very well, thank you. Where are you from, ma'am?"

[liz-imbrie-.livejournal.com]

"Philadelphia, 1939. You?"

She gestures to the chair across the table from her.

[maydaybrat.livejournal.com]

Flippantly from his normal table,

"Hail, brother. Good afternoon, Mr. Davies."

[owendavies.livejournal.com]

"Good afternoon," Owen says, with a polite, distant almost-smile.

"Prynhawn da, Mordred, Good to see you," Bran says.

Owen glances at Bran but says nothing.

[maydaybrat.livejournal.com]

Mordred unwinds his lanky body from the chair, gets to his feet with a warrior's grace, and sketches them both a mocking bow.

"So, brother. What brings you and your day here, business or pleasure?"

[theravenboy]

Bran glances at his da, and says mildly, "I haven't been here in a few days. Da wanted to come along."

[maydaybrat.livejournal.com]

"Shiny," he says, briefly.

[owendavies.livejournal.com]

"I do like to know where my son goes," Owen says, unsmiling, but his lip twitches faintly.

Bran notices the twitch; his own smile suddenly warms.

[white_flowers]

From a corner booth, half-cloaked in shadow, the woman in white looks up from her knitting, with a warm smile.

It's a sky-blue shawl.

[owendavies.livejournal.com]

Owen approaches Blodwen. The lines in his face go deeper than usual.

"Good evening, Blodwen," he says. Only the tightness in his shoulders betrays that Owen knows something of what happened last month.

[theravenboy]

Bran stands behind Owen and to the left, gripping his harp tightly. He does not bother to greet Blodwen Rowlands.

[white_flowers]

"Good evening, Owen, Bran," she says warmly. "It is lovely to see you both again."

The soft clicking sound of the needles does not falter.

[theravenboy]

"The pleasure is entirely yours, I am sure," Bran says, eyes flickering first to his da and then to the front door.

[owendavies.livejournal.com]

Owen ignores the hint.

"I hope..." Owen Davies' social skills, never very good, are not sufficient for the challenge of maintaining small talk with one's evil dead neighbor. "I hope you have been well."

[lord-of-dreams.livejournal.com]

"Good evening, Bran and Owen Davies."

A nod to both of them from the enthroned Endless.

[theravenboy]

Bran straightens and raises his chin.

"Da, this is the Lord Morpheus. Dream of the Endless."

[owendavies.livejournal.com]

Owen stands stiffly, his arms close to his sides. "I have heard about you. From Bran."

[lord-of-dreams.livejournal.com]

"I would hope that he told you the difference between me."

The voice is mild, and mildly amused.

"Welcome to Milliways, Owen Davies."

[owendavies.livejournal.com]

Bran has indeed explained the difference to Owen. This does not mean that Owen understands it, or that he would trust Lord Morpheus any more if he did understand it.

"Thank you, my lord," Owen says tightly, averting his eyes from the dreams spinning in the Dream-lord's coat.

[lord-of-dreams.livejournal.com]

His robes do disturb many people. For Bran's sake, he sends them back to the Dreaming, leaving him in a black sweater and black slacks.

He is still barefooted.

"I regret that I have not paid my respects before now. Bran is a fine young man."