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theravenboy in milliways_bar

(Untitled)

Sep 23, 2005 19:11

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

blodwen rowlands, dream, bran davies, owen davies, liz imbrie, mordred

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liz_imbrie_ September 24 2005, 02:23:58 UTC

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

theravenboy September 24 2005, 02:34:29 UTC

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

liz_imbrie_ September 24 2005, 02:39:42 UTC

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

"Hello."

theravenboy September 24 2005, 03:02:34 UTC

[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_ September 24 2005, 03:05:24 UTC

((OOC: No worries, dearling!))

Thank God. That helps.

"Elizabeth Imbrie. How do you do."

Her hand is tiny and perfectly manicured.

theravenboy September 24 2005, 03:15:46 UTC

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

liz_imbrie_ September 24 2005, 03:19:59 UTC

"Philadelphia, 1939. You?"

She gestures to the chair across the table from her.

theravenboy September 24 2005, 03:28:13 UTC

"Wales, 1977." Bran takes the chair, positioning his harp in his lap. "If I may ask, what day is it there?"

liz_imbrie_ September 24 2005, 03:30:38 UTC

"September...twenty-third?"

She tilts her head.

"Three days 'till we go to press, and we go to press on Mondays, so, yes, the twenty-third."

theravenboy September 24 2005, 03:44:19 UTC

"Not a good year, that." Bran shakes his head. "Do you work on a publication, then?

liz_imbrie_ September 24 2005, 03:47:14 UTC

"It's not been so bad," she says, and then draws a breath. Wales. He comes from after her. He might know.

She doesn't ask. She doesn't know what the right questions would be, and she's no longer sure she wants the answers.

"Y--yes, I do. Destiny magazine, you don't know it, and if you do, don't admit it."

theravenboy September 24 2005, 04:12:16 UTC

"I don't know it," Bran says, laughing.

liz_imbrie_ September 24 2005, 13:19:08 UTC

"Splendid! You have taste."

theravenboy September 24 2005, 20:09:45 UTC

Drily, "Sounds like an interesting publication, then."

Discussing magazines Bran has never heard of is much safer than discussing 1939 politics. Bran Davies, unlike certain friends of his, is not sure he is immune to paradox.

liz_imbrie_ September 24 2005, 21:21:52 UTC

"Interesting, in the train-wreck sort of way."

She's not looked away from his face. Bran is interesting, in a not-at-all train-wreck sort of way.

"Where in Wales do you come from? Is Milliways the local --" she flounders for the word for a moment and gives up, "bar?"

theravenboy September 24 2005, 23:17:40 UTC

Bran snorts. "Not local, but it is the only bar I ever go to. There is a pub in Tywyn, down lower in the valley, but I have never been in."

He shrugs. "I live on a farm in the Dysynni Valley, with my da. Very quiet up there.

"Is this the local bar in Philadelphia, then?"

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