(Untitled)

[milkbonesoldier]

Wells, being busy with other things, couldn't take Arithon to his daughter's house for the warding thereof. He could, however, set the fellow on the right course without disrupting his day's activities too much. It's not far to Philippa's house, after all, and the route is fairly straightforward.

Comments

[prince_arithon]

Arithon is a long-time sailor. He manages to get there without having to ask for directions.

This time he didn't give the modern clothing back to Bar, so the person who knocks on the door is, well. To all intents and purposes, he's a really long-haired teenager in a green and black leather jacket, green shirt, and black jeans with several necklaces tucked under the collar, more than a few rings, carrying a small duffel bag that bulges in interesting places.

[milkbonesoldier]

"Harry, I- oh."

The person who answers the door bears a strong resemblance indeed to the Wells that Arithon knows, but he's visibly older and has considerably more hair. Exactly why anyone would do that to perfectly good hair is something of a mystery, but- Well, maybe it'll look better after he washes it out. It's still got plaster dust and other things in it from working in the basement.

"Ah. Can I help you?"

[prince_arithon]

"Good day!"

His voice is quite cheerful, and he avoids staring at the hair. Somehow. He offers a hand after a slight hesitation,

"I am not, as you see, Harry." pun resisted. Barely. "I am a friend of his, however, here to assist as I may with keeping his kin safe in the coming months."

The voice sing-songs in a decidedly not-English manner.

[milkbonesoldier]

Mr. Wells frowns faintly, though he reaches for the offered hand and shakes it politely enough. "He did mention someone'd be stopping by," he says carefully. "I'm his father, Philip Wells. Pleased to meet you, Mr.....?"

He's not letting the stranger across his daughter's threshold without a name.