(Untitled)

[un_fallen]

There's a tired figure sitting at the bar - tired, but a little less weary-looking than he's been on his last few visits. The road grime is gone, too, for which Bar is probably grateful. He's spending less time staring at his glass, instead scanning the bar in a thoughtful way that looks a lot more nonchalant than it is

Comments

[witchy_rebel]

Another angel.

How very odd.

It's probably a little rude, but Morgan can't help but study him. Well, she forgets, sometimes.

[un_fallen]

A couple more passes across the bar, and yes, the girl is still looking at him.

He looks back, finally, and nods acknowledgement.

[witchy_rebel]

She smiles, a little.

"Two angels in one night. It's a little odd." She sounds Cornish, but the Cornish of roughly 1500 years ago.

[un_fallen]

Startled, he doesn't realize his mouth's dropped open until he speaks.

"Didn't think it was that obvious."

He's resisting the urge to look himself over for stray feathers or... glowing, or something.

[a_poor_guardian]

Often, people who meet Archibald Craven expect that he has some great crime on his soul. Raguel ought to know that he doesn't. Still, Archibald has high crooked shoulders and a lined grim face, and he does not smile as he approaches the man at the bar.

"Excuse me, sir," says Archibald in clear if English-accented Italian. "Can you tell me where to find the innkeeper?"

[un_fallen]

"Well, uh. It depends what you're looking for," he says hesitantly, glancing across to where Bernard's red hair is clearly visible. His own Italian is also accented, but it's not with English. He hasn't had any need to speak Italian for quite a while.

"Are you looking for a room?"

[a_poor_guardian]

"Yes, actually." Archibald's pause is slightly too long. "I walked farther than I meant to today."

[un_fallen]

"Well, you can just get a key from the bar, and..."

He trails off, frowning slightly.

"Do you prefer English?" he asks, switching languages abruptly. "It's spoken fairly widely here."

[human_child]

Ever seen someone that looks permanently lost? Like they're meant for somewhere specific, but they're never there?

This kid kinda looks like that. But in a calm way. He just doesn't look like he belongs in a bar.

Looks like a nice kid, though.

[un_fallen]

Raguel's eye lands on him, and keeps coming back as he watches the bar. 'Lost' is certainly one way to put it - the kid seems comfortable enough, though. Something else. He can't quite identify it.

"You okay there?" he calls, when the kid glances his way.

[human_child]

It's kind of like the Pevensies. That odd look of a mortal who's lived a life but is still young. They're always trying to catch up with that life.

"Eh? Oh... Yeah, I guess," he shrugs and mumbles. Stops, for a moment. This guy almost looks like a character he could write. Maybe it's the eyes.

"Just sorta been gone a while."

[un_fallen]

"Oh. Thought for a minute you... weren't sure where you were headed. Place doesn't seem to change much, but the faces sure do. Which is almost the same thing."

[giftedthom]

*Coolly, Thom observes* Still here.

*and sits down without asking*

[un_fallen]

"Do you mean you, or me?" he asks, bemused.

[giftedthom]

You. My sister was anxious.

[un_fallen]

"Oh," he says, and it takes a minute to process that.

"I'm not leaving in the next few weeks, or anything."