Owen Evers

Keeper of artifacts. Maker of pancakes. Friend to toasters.


Owen looks as though he has perpetually just rolled out of bed, which is even funnier when you consider that he never sleeps. His hair is a puff of curls which does whatever it feels like in any given moment, and he tends to wear plain dress shirts or sweaters and slacks, occasionally with a vest. His blue eyes are often wide open, either from curiosity or enthusiasm.


Owen is very, very old, and very, very mad. His madness is mostly harmless and contained to talking to inanimate objects … which is a side effect of having had telemetry for hundreds of years, really.   Long retired from field work, he runs the storefront antique business that Janus created as a front for the Organization, and helps appraise and assess all the items that are brought in, both for sale and for storage.  
His personal favorite antiques to hoard are pens (mightier than swords) and pez dispensers (sometimes there’s just something about collecting disembodied heads), and he has perfected the art of the pancake, particularly at odd hours of the day, since he doesn’t sleep much.  His _anima_ is a magpie.

Owen Evers

Aviario: The Archivists MsFeistus